Page 76 of Bad Luck Bride

She walked to her writing desk, shoved aside the latest pile of bills, and reached for pen and paper. She scribbled a note for her mother and Jo, then put on her hat, grabbed her cloak and her handbag, and went down to secure a cab. She needed to go to the West End.

The Mayfair Hotel, if Kay remembered rightly, had never been much of a hotel. Despite its prime location, nestled in the valuablewedge of real estate between Park Lane and Devonshire House, it had long been regarded as a second-rate hotel, only in demand during the London season, when any decent room in town was hard to come by. It had been, she remembered, a rather seedy-looking place, with sooty limestone walls and shutters in need of paint.

But now, looking at it as she stepped out of the hansom cab, Kay was impressed. As the manager, Delia had done some marvelous things to the place. The soot had been washed away, revealing the mellow, golden stone beneath, the shutters had been painted creamy white, and boxes of ivy and red geraniums adorned the windows.

A liveried doorman held the plate-glass door open for her, and Kay walked through it, crossing the inlaid floor of black-and-white marble to an oak desk with a wall of cubbyholes for letters behind it. A clerk looked up as she approached.

“May I help you?” he asked.

“I was hoping to call on Lady Stratham,” Kay said. “Is she in, by chance?” she asked.

“I will find out. Who is calling, please?”

“Lady Kay Matheson.” She handed over her card, and the clerk bustled away. Returning moments later, he beckoned her to follow him. “This way, my lady.”

He led her down a well-lit, carpeted corridor to an office at the very end. It seemed to be an antechamber of sorts, where packing crates and filing cabinets lined the walls and the contents of some were scattered heedlessly across the floor. Picking her way carefully through the chaos, she followed the clerk to a closed door at the other end of the room. He opened the door, announced her name, and stood aside.

Delia looked up from her place behind a massive desk, its mahogany top barely visible beneath stacks of manila files and piles of correspondence. “Kay, darling!” she cried, beckoning her forward. “Come in, come in.”

Kay accepted the invitation, stepping carefully around two more packing crates by the door, but she was only three feet into the room when she noticed a man rising from the chair opposite Delia’s desk, and as he turned toward her, Kay froze in her tracks.

It was Devlin.

“You?” She sighed. “I knew I should have telephoned first.”

“Lady Kay.” He bowed, smiling a little. “I’m delighted to see you, too.”

“Now, now, children,” Delia chided. “Don’t start squabbling, or you’ll make me cross.”

She once again waved Kay to come all the way in, but Kay hung back. “I don’t want to interrupt,” she said, her mind reaching for ways to make a graceful exit. “I’ll do some shopping and come back later.”

“No, no,” Delia said, circumventing an easy escape. “We were just conducting some hotel business, and I think we’re nearly finished. Aren’t we, Devlin?”

“I believe so,” he replied. “I’ll be on my way, then, and you ladies can have your visit. Before I go, Delia,” he added, “let me say how much I appreciate your help with this… project.”

“I’ll do what I can, of course,” she replied, “but as I told you before, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. It will be up to you to make the most of any opportunities that may arise.”

“I understand.”

“I wish you the best of luck, Devlin. You’ll need it.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” He bowed to both of them, tipped his hat, and departed.

“Devlin?” Kay echoed, once she had determined he was safely gone. “Delia and Devlin? When did you and that man start using Christian names?” she asked, a bit nettled by this intimacy between her friend and the man who kept turning her life upside down.

Much to Kay’s chagrin, Delia merely laughed. “We’ve been working together a great deal lately. Simon wants to expand the Mayfair Hotel conglomerate, and lots of work will be required in the weeks ahead. I’m in desperate need of help and advice, and Devlin has very kindly offered to extend his London visit and provide some of both.”

Kay sniffed. “From what he said, I got the impression he was in need of your help, not the other way around.”

“Well, this sort of thing works both ways in business.” She gestured to the chair Devlin had vacated. “Do sit down and tell me what’s brought you to my side of town. Did you come to have a look at the place?”

“I’d love a look around, of course, but I came for a different reason. One I hope you don’t think is cheek. You see…” She paused and took a deep breath. “I’m rather at loose ends these days, as you know. And I’ve plenty of time on my hands. Josephine is fully immersed in the season, and my mother is driving me mad.”

“I’m happy to get you out and about,” Delia said at once. “The fuss about your broken engagement will die down soon enough, I daresay, and you’ll be able to move in society again without enduring anyone’s—”

“That’s not it,” she interrupted, cutting to the heart of her purpose, just in case Delia was about to make an offer to be hermatchmaker and find her a wealthy man to marry her and solve all her problems. “I’m here because I want your advice. And perhaps your help.”

“I’m happy to help you in any way I can, of course, but as for advice—” Delia broke off and laughed. “I’ve made a mess of my own life so often in the past, I’m not sure I’m qualified to give anyone advice.”

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