“I am very clumsy this evening,” she said ruefully. “On my honor I swear not to touch another dish.”
The maid grinned as she scooped up the mess and mopped the floor. “Why don’t you go and listen to the lecture on Florentine leather dildos? Or watch the exhibitionists? Trios are always more fun than couples.”
“I might just do that,” Delilah replied, glancing at the floor again and sighing in disappointment at the wasted dessert. With a distinct lack of orgasms in her life since she’d sent Ben home, sweets were the next best thing and she loved berry tarts.
Really, she needed to stay away from Temple patrons until her head cleared and she returned to being her usual calm, cool-headed self. It had taken quite literally years to build the club reputation as a place of discretion, luxury, and impeccable service, but as any business owner knew, reputation could be destroyed at any moment with a misstep. Especially when it was scientific fact that scandal crossed London at twice the speed of praise.
Smoothing her skirts, Delilah retreated from the gaming hell and made her way to the theater. The lecture had commenced about ten minutes prior, so she wouldn’t have missed very much. After nodding to the footmen on the door, she stepped carefully on tiptoes so her heels didn’t make a noise, and entered the darkened space. Fortunately there was an available seat close to the wall so she could leave again if need be, and Delilah slid into it with a small sigh of relief that she had avoided any more mishaps.
The speakers were actually a husband and wife who had previously run a lackluster shoe cobbling business until deciding to change course and craft sexual accessories. A rather inspired choice; they now sold across the continent and had admirers in many of the royal courts due to the quality and durability of their items. Of course it helped that they were both charming, and as the lecture continued, the two had the audience roaring with laughter as they recounted in great detail all the times things had gone awry when they tested their accessories on each other.
Delilah relaxed in her chair. Exactly the remedy required for her woes, some good healthy laughter.
A woman leaned over. “Good evening, Mrs. Forbes. Aren’t Mr. and Mrs. Pucci wonderful? I may have to add to my toy collection.”
Good grief. Of all people.
“They are indeed, Lady Judith” she whispered. “I didn’t realize you and his lordship were attending tonight.”
“A last minute decision. We were going to attend the Nawton ball, but I persuaded Preston to change his mind. The old fashioned way.”
Delilah coughed to disguise a giggle in the temporary quiet of the theater, as the other patrons listened intently to the couple speak on the tools used to make sexual accessories. She’d always wondered in the past how Lady Judith and Tunbury could be such opposites. Now she knew the truth, that both siblings were delightfully wicked. “Well done.”
“I thought so.”
A quarter hour later, just as Mr. Pucci began explaining how best to clean and care for leather accessories while Mrs. Pucci demonstrated, a flurry of movement next to the wall caught her eye, and she turned her head to see a footman hurrying toward her.
The young man leaned down so he might whisper in her ear. “Tunbury is here, ma’am. Says he needs to speak to you.”
“Tell him I’ll be there presently,” she murmured, glad only the stage was brightly lit in the theater, for her cheeks were flushing with excited anticipation. Ben had returned!
“Beg pardon, but he says it is most urgent.”
Delilah frowned as her stomach began to churn. That didn’t sound like a lover come to claim what was his, it sounded downright bloody ominous. “Very well,” she replied quickly, bracing her hands on the padded seat in front of her to rise.
“Mrs. Forbes?” said Lady Judith, placing her gloved hand on Delilah’s sleeve. “Is something amiss?”
“No, no. Just an unexpected visitor. I hope you and his lordship enjoy the rest of the lecture.”
But with each reassuring word to her patron, Delilah’s anxiety grew. Why did Ben need to see her so urgently? He knew that at this time of night the club was at its busiest, so surely wouldn’t be here to discuss personal matters. If he had forgotten and come for that purpose, she would grumble at having insufficient time for simple vanities like freshening her chignon or applying a little rouge to her cheeks. Delilah Forbes might be the most contrite woman in England after tossing Ben out of bed, but she certainly didn’t need to look like she’d been pining for him.
Shaking her head, Delilah followed the footman out of the theater and into the entrance hall to see Ben pacing in front of the fireplace. He looked so very ducal and even more handsome than she remembered in his formal evening clothing; black jacket, white silk knee breeches, silver waistcoat, and an intricately arranged cravat had never looked so delicious.
“Your Grace,” she said a trifle breathlessly, dipping into a curtsy. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Ben stared at her, and for a moment his eyes glowed with pure hunger. Just as quickly the lust vanished, and once again she mourned the loss of her wicked lover.
He bowed. “Mrs. Forbes. I am pleased to see all is well here.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” she asked, frowning.
“Lord Fletcher is on his way. We were both at the Nawton ball, I went to dance, then his father Lord Hurst informed me that his son intended to protest the membership decision. He’s well in his cups, so stopped on the journey to…well, I’m sure you can guess. That is the only reason I managed to arrive before him.”
Furious dismay coiled so tightly in Delilah’s stomach she felt ill.
The scandal of a drunk, well-connected lord making a scene in the Temple was the very last thing she needed. The reason wealthy patrons came here was because of the exclusivity and strict rules to ensure their comfort and privacy. If they decided this wasn’t a sanctuary from everyday life, that non-members could arrive and make trouble or even force the Watch here to raid the premises, they would leave in droves. The Temple’s reputation would be mud, subscriptions would be cancelled, and the new owner might well decide that legal proceedings were in order.
Such a disaster could not be permitted.
“What is his lordship wearing?” she asked swiftly. “I will call for extra footmen. He cannot be allowed in here, Ben. It will ruin everything—”
“Delilah Forbes! Where is that bloody woman? Take your hands off me, you lowborn sewer rat.”
Her heart plummeted to the tips of her toes as the loud, slurred voice echoed across the entrance hall. Footmen were attempting to escort Lord Fletcher back out the door, but the viscount was resisting, and if anyone left the theater or gaming hell they would witness the fracas.
Oh God. Years of hard work and sacrifice could be destroyed in an instant because of a selfish, petulant fool.
What on earth was she supposed to do now?
Chapter 7
He could practically feel Delilah’s fury at Fletcher and fear of a business-collapsing scandal.
Bennett stood motionless beside her, his palms positively itching to leap in and beat the cretin to a pulp. But this was Delilah’s Temple. Her decisions, her rules, and he would respect whichever way she wished to resolve the matter. It needed to happen quickly however; at any moment patrons could leave the theater, gaming hell, or one of the pleasure rooms, and see this nonsense. And shoving Fletcher outside wouldn’t necessarily be better, as the other residents of Golden Square or even newly arriving patrons would have a prime view of the altercation.