Page 13 of The Danger of Desire
“You know what I mean. You shouldn’t have to... cozy up to some ugly old marquess in hopes that he will marry you and solve all our problems.”
A laugh bubbled out of her. “Trust me, Lord Knightford is neither old nor ugly.” More’s the pity. “And he isn’t in the least interested in marrying me.” Also a pity.
No, she didn’t mean that.
“Are you sure? You’re prettier than you give yourself credit for.”
“Quite sure,” Delia said dryly. “Though I’ll admit Lord Knightford might be interested in pretending to court me to get his cousin out of his hair.”
“Oh. That makes sense. I’m told that Lady Clarissa can be very forceful.”
“You have no idea.” Delia cast her a hard stare. “But you would, if you didn’t hide every time she came to visit.”
Brilliana released Delia’s hands, and Flossie crept into Delia’s lap as if to better protect her. “I don’t hide. I’m in mourning, remember?”
“You don’t hide from anyone else.”
Rising to pace the room, Brilliana wouldn’t look at Delia. “She’s a fine countess, that’s all. I get nervous around such ladies.” Brilliana shook her head, sending lush waves of chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders. “Besides, we weren’t talking about your friend. We were talking about her cousin. Aunt Agatha says Lord Knightford has a reputation with women.”
“I’m well aware.” Delia scratched her cat behind one ear. And the marquess’s reputation was richly deserved, judging from how easily he could unsettle a woman and make her pulse leap. A fact which Delia dared not let on to Brilliana.
So she went on the offensive. “Anyway, why would it be wrong formeto marry in an attempt to save Camden Hall when you’re proposing to do the same thing?”
Brilliana shrugged. “First of all, your marrying isn’t likely to help us, while my marrying will. I’ve already been married, so I know how it works, and it wouldn’t be that difficult.”
“It wouldn’t be that easy, either. How will you find a husband in enough time to prevent the foreclosure? You’re certainly beautiful enough to attract a man, but burdened with a debt-ridden estate and having a small child will complicate matters. Besides, you’re still in mourning; you can’t even go into society.”
“It ends soon. As long as we can convince your aunt to remain in London a bit longer, while Parliament is in session, we might have some nice social engagements where I can meet gentlemen. She has said she would give me a small dowry, too. And besides, Silas needs a father, particularly someone wealthy enough to bail out the estate and oversee his education as heir.”
“In exchange for havingyouunder his control.” The very idea of her sister-in-law being forced to marry yet again under such circumstances made her stomach roil. “It’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourself because ofmybrother, who went off to London to gamble and then abandoned you and Silas. It wasn’t right of him to do what he did to you.”
Dear Delia, I’ve lost everything. There’s no more reason to live. Take care of Brilliana and Silas for me. I can’t bear it anymore. Forgive me.
“He was drunk. It was an accident,” Brilliana said.
Blast. Delia had forgotten that her sister-in-law didn’t know the truth about how Reynold had died. No one but Delia did. “An accident. Yes.” She hated lying, but there was no point in heaping another burden on Brilliana, who already staggered beneath a host of them.
Much as Delia had loved her brother, the way he’d gone about gaining Brilliana as a wife had left much to be desired, and the woman had deserved better than to be abandoned in the end.
The raw anger swelling in Delia’s throat threatened to choke her. “I should have seen how upset Reynold was and kept him from going out that night.”
“If I couldn’t, how could you? Your brother always did as he pleased.”
How well she knew. He was as selfish as every other man in that respect. “And no more so than when he came to London to gamble. Did he never say why he felt compelled to do that, when he claimed to dislike it as much as I?”
Brilliana shook her head. “All he told me was that he wanted to call on a friend.” A shadow crossed her face. “Imagine my shock when I learned he’d gone to some gaming hell, where he’d lost so much money he had to mortgage Camden Hall to pay his debt.”
That was the crux of it. Reynold had gambled with strangers for no reason that they could discover, and the only way Delia could save the estate from foreclosure—and either her or Brilliana from having to marry for money or become governesses or something like that—was to catch the card cheat in the act.
No lord of any reputation dared to be exposed as a cheater, so the wretch would pay back what he’d taken from her brother—even if she had to blackmail him into it. Because there was no way on God’s green earth that Reynold had lost all that money simply by playing badly.
Not the son of Captain Mace Trevor, card sharp extraordinaire, who’d taught her and Reynold everything they knew.
Which reminded her... Delia glanced at the clock. Nearly midnight. She only had an hour to make her preparations; she needed to get rid of Brilliana.
With a big yawn, Delia rose from the bed. “My, my, I must be more tired than I realized. All that dancing.”
As she’d expected, Brilliana leapt up. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Here I am going on and on, and it’s far too late for that.” She headed for the door. “I’ll see you in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”
