Enlightening Delilah by MC Beaton Read Free Book Online Page B

steps of a mansion.
    There was a very grand liveried butler holding open the door.
    He bowed and said, ‘The Misses Tribble are awaiting you in the drawing room. Please follow me.’
    Harris, the Tribbles’ butler, led the way up a curved staircase to a room at the top on the first floor. He threw open the double doors and announced, ‘Mr Wraxall and Miss Wraxall.’
    The squire and Delilah entered. Two ladies rose to meet them. Delilah’s eyes flicked over the tall flat figure of Amy and came to rest on Effy. Effy’s white hair gleamed like silver. She was wearing a lilac silk gown covered with a gauze scarf of deeper lilac. Her face had a delicate faded prettiness. In her hand she held a painted fan which she raised to her face and batted her eyelashes at the squire over the edge.
    ‘We have not met,’ said Effy. ‘I am Miss Effy Tribble. You have, I believe, already met my sister, Miss Amy.’
    Delilah concealed her surprise. So the other one was Miss Amy. Amy was wearing a scarlet merino gown, beautifully cut. On her head was a scarlet velvet cap trimmed with gold. She had the face of a rather sad, tired horse.
    ‘This is my daughter, Delilah,’ said the squire. Delilah curtsied. ‘Come and sit by the fire,’ said Effy. ‘You both must be frozen. We were going to offer you champagne before that freezing fog came down, but I think a bowl of punch will be more the thing.’
    Two footmen came in with a punch-bowl and all the ingredients and placed them on a table. Amy set about making the punch. ‘Always do it myself,’ she said with a grin at Delilah. ‘Servants never make it strong enough.’
    That grin altered Amy’s face. Delilah’s heart sank. Miss Amy Tribble had a certain direct charm. But she also looked formidable, the sort of stepmother who would not appreciate having another woman running the household.
    ‘Sit down by me, Mr Wraxall,’ cooed Effy, ‘and tell me all about your journey.’
    Amy glared at her sister and poured a whole bottle of brandy into the punch-bowl. Amy knew Effy had a weak head for spirits.
    The squire was not at ease with Effy. Her flutterings and sly glances made him feel hot and awkward and miserably aware that the linen of his cravat was speckled with soot.
    Amy poured glasses of punch and a footman took them round. Delilah nearly choked over hers, it was so strong, but soon the punch began to spread a warm glow throughout her body.
    ‘I hope you plan to spend a few days in Town, Mr Wraxall,’ said Amy, sitting down on the other side of him from Effy.
    ‘I plan to leave the day after tomorrow,’ said the squire.
    ‘Have you ever been to Astley’s Amphitheatre?’ asked Amy.
    ‘Terrible place,’ interrupted Effy with a delicate shudder. ‘I detest circuses. Full of low people.’
    ‘I have never been,’ said the squire, ‘but I’ve always longed to go.’ He looked apologetically at Effy. ‘I fear I do not have very sophisticated tastes, as Miss Amy well knows.’
    ‘I took the liberty of getting us tickets for tomorrow night,’ said Amy cheerfully. ‘That is, if you would care to accompany me, Mr Wraxall.’
    The squire’s blue eyes lit up. ‘I should be honoured and delighted to go, Miss Amy.’
    ‘Amy!’ said Effy sternly. ‘You are surely not thinking of starting Miss Wraxall’s début in London at Astley’s!’
    ‘Not I,’ said Amy. ‘I only bought two tickets. I have the same unsophisticated tastes as Mr Wraxall.’
    Effy drank another glass of punch. ‘And what am I supposed to do with Miss Wraxall?’
    ‘Begin her education, if you like,’ said Amy and then coloured as the squire flashed her a warning look.
    ‘What education?’ demanded Delilah. ‘I am long out of the schoolroom.’
    ‘But you have not been in London before,’ said Effy. ‘You need town bronze.’
    ‘We have many notables who attend our local parties and assemblies in the winter,’ said Delilah. ‘I know very well how to go on.’
    ‘We shall shee,’ said