“The weakness in my plans
has always been that I was not fully prepared. Or perhaps they were not well thought-out,”
she added under her breath.
As evidenced by Camille’s Christmas plan to substitute a theater troupe for her family
to impress a prince into a marriage proposal, not well thought-out was something of an understatement.
“Here’s an excellent possibility. In fact there are several.” Camille glanced up.
“Mother has done a very good job. Better than I would have thought.” She looked back
at the guest list. “Most of these gentlemen meet all your requirements including that
of age. Let me see, there is Lord—”
“Goodness, Camille, that’s enough.” Delilah blew a long breath. “Any other time, I
would quite relish this discussion and perhaps later we can look at every eligible
gentleman on the guest list and debate the possibilities. But right now I would really
rather discuss something, anything, else.”
Teddy cast her a sympathetic look. But then Teddy, far more than Camille, could understand
how the fear of becoming penniless might well take the fun out of debating the relative
merits of one prospective husband over another.
“Of course.” Camille smiled affectionately at her younger sister. “There’s time enough
for this later. Why, there’s no hurry at all, really.” She turned to Teddy. “And aren’t
we supposed to be discussing the flower arrangements?”
Teddy nodded, pulled her notebook closer, and flipped through the pages. “We’ve ordered
nearly everything at this point but unfortunately, the . . .”
Perhaps Camille did understand, at least a little. After all, it was one thing to
wish to marry a man with a suitable income and position and quite another to need
to. Regardless, Delilah had no intention of leaping into an ill-advised marriage simply
to save herself from poverty. She did hope for a certain amount of affection in a
new match. If nothing else she wanted to like the next man she married. She intended
to spend the rest of her life with him after all. But as much as she wanted to marry
again, and there was no doubt as to the type of man she wished to wed, the idea of
having to do so for financial reasons did indeed make her feel like a fortune hunter.
Still, she had no intention of becoming a poor relation either.
No, Camille was right. There was no hurry at all. Besides, this claim on Phillip’s
estate was more than likely bogus and would be settled any day now. Once the sense
of imminent disaster hanging over her like a black cloud had abated she could look
for a new husband unfettered by the slightest doubt. Nonetheless, she fully intended
to take advantage of the opportunity afforded by Camille’s wedding and accompanying
social events to inspect suitable candidates. It would be foolish to let this opportunity
slip away. She would engage them in intelligent conversation. She would be charming
and flirtatious, she had long enjoyed being flirtatious, and by the time Camille was
wed, Delilah would be headed in the direction of the altar as well.
All things considered, and barring any unforeseen complications, it was an excellent
plan.
“There you are, Camille,” Grayson’s voice sounded in the doorway behind Delilah. “Clement
said I would find you on the terrace.”
Her sister’s eyes lit with pleasure at the sight of her fiancé and the slightest twinge
of what might have been envy stabbed Delilah. She ignored it. It was all well and
good that Camille and Grayson had found love, and Delilah wished them nothing but
happiness, but she had no interest in love. Not this time.
“It’s such a lovely day, it was a shame to stay indoors.” Camille stood and moved
toward him.
Delilah twisted in her chair to get a look at the newcomer. But he stood in the shadows
of the doorway, a step behind Grayson. He was tall, Delilah could tell that much.
But then it did seem that