Chapter Six

T he grand duchess's mansion was in full regalia, even more than the party when Delilah had arrived back to London. There were casks of champagne being brought in by porters, and the staff was hustling and bustling with flowers, going into the main ballroom, and decorating the halls outside in the foyer. Even the stairs were wrapped with flowered garlands, and there was a small orchestra setting up to play, including a harpist. It all seemed much too extravagant for a bon voyage gala, and while Juno was completely enthralled, Delilah's frown deepened. She went quickly along the marble-floored hallway to find her godmother among her plants in the solarium.

"Aunt Bibbie," Delilah said.

Her godmother turned and smiled. "Delilah, good, here you are. I am picking a few blooms that match your dress for your hair. It has just been delivered, and it's absolutely gorgeous. I had one of the girls hang it in your room with the new shoes."

"This is too much, Aunt Bibbie," Delilah said firmly. "All because I leave in two weeks?"

"Darling, let me have my fun." Her godmother moved to put the blooms in a crystal bowl that one of her staff held. "I want them added to her hair when she's dressed. Smatter them everywhere. I want her hair to frame her face."

"Yes, Your Grace," the maid said and took the blooms away.

"What are you not telling me?" Delilah prodded again, more insistently.

Aunt Bibbie gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. "Nothing, darling, it's just a wonderful time for blooms and celebrations. I know you don't know, but Julian has literally destroyed Lord Gibson in society. His wife has returned home to her father. All his accounts closed, the house gone, and now he's living in a hotel. I hear he shall be returning to America with Ian Saur, to be a cowboy or some such nonsense. An uncivilized place for a Neanderthal creature."

"I did not know any of this." Delilah sat down and pressed her hands against her stomach and tried to take a breath under the corset. "Why would Julian do any of this?"

"Why do you think?" the grand duchess asked gently.

"Me?" Delilah said the word in soft question.

"Yes, dear child, he is enamored with you." Aunt Bibbie sat and took her hands. "So much so that this was delivered for you just a few moments ago." She handed her an envelope sealed with the Blackshire emblem in wax, the second in so many days. "Darling girl, you can put the past behind you and move on, maybe with Julian."

"London and Barbados are quite a distance away," she pointed out.

"Maybe concessions can be made..."

Delilah shook her head. "Not by me, I can't fathom living here, Auntie. Wearing these foul corsets daily, people looking at me as if I'm something disgusting on the soles of their shoes."

Aunt Bibbie patted her hands. "I understand, darling. Still, tonight will be glorious."

"I'm sure," Delilah murmured.

"Go, read your letter, and I hope it creates a fire in your loins for the handsome duke," Aunt Bibbie said.

"Auntie, about certain things, when he kisses me, why do I feel so...so"—Delilah tried to find the words—"like there is lightning from my lips to his, and I feel something within me quake."

"That, my lovely daughter, is called desire, want, need, and the first pangs of love," Aunt Bibbie sighed. "Even if it's not wanted, it happens in the blink of an eye. My liaison with Julian's father, for instance, was quite invigorating."

"I don't want to know." Delilah felt her face warm.

"Go read your letter." Aunt Bibbie gave her a gentle shove. "Tonight, we celebrate."

"What are we celebrating!" Delilah asked in exasperation.

Her godmother's laughter followed her out the door. Delilah chose the gardens to read her letter, even while the staff set up lamps and sitting areas outside. She found a quiet spot under the gazebo, broke the wax seal that held the letter together, and began to read the words.

My Dearest Delilah,

As the ink meets paper, my heart swells with a fervor that only your presence can evoke. I picture your face, and the hollow, quiet chambers of my soul fill with something passionate and wild. It is a feeling that I longed to have, and you brought it from the shore of your island with you, and just like the fragrance of your sun-kissed skin, it intoxicates me. You enchant my thoughts in my every waking moment. I am compelled to touch you, to kiss your lips as the fire of need courses through my veins.

I may be foolish to be so enamored to write this letter to you, since no other woman has compelled me to share my thoughts onto paper. From the moment our eyes first met outside the ballroom of your godmother's home, I knew my fate was forever entwined with yours. The strength of your courage, grace, your beauty, and the ineffable charm that emanates from your being have ensnared my senses.

I am spellbound.

In your eyes and when I touch your lips alone, I find a universe of untold wonders, and I know to have you in my arms would hurtle me to the stars. I long for your affection, like a man dying of thirst. It must be mine and no other's. Our shared passion within the gardens of your home, to see your body through the nightgown bathed in moonlight, has aroused me like no other. On my knees, I beg for your love, your desire, to taste your need and want, wet upon my tongue. To taste your nipples and hear the cries of my name fall from your lips. Mine, no other's, for no one else can claim what is mine.

My Delilah, you are the sun that graces my dawn and the moon that guides me through the darkest night and the shadows that haunt me. Your laughter is a simple joy that not many hear, and I am charmed. I am reminded that destiny itself has conspired to unite our fates, and to ignore her direction is for foolish men.

With each passing day, the anticipation of our union grows, and I find myself counting the minutes that pass until I can be in your presence once more. Until then, know that my heart beats in synchrony with yours. I am your protector, a port in the harshest storm, and my thoughts are consumed by the need of wanting you to be with me in in love's eternal embrace.

Yours, now and always,

Duke Julian Blackshire

"Oh goodness," she said and read the words again.

She had never read anything like this in her life, and it was for her. Delilah could find no deception in his words. She felt the same in everything he wrote, but also, these feelings terrified her. Not because of him or his touch, she felt no fear of Julian at all, but the outcome of their desire. Would she be left with only memories while he married someone more suitable?

Did he want her to be a mistress in the islands, carrying his illicit children, knowing they would never be allowed to have his title or name? There was no certainty in their lust and wanton behavior, and as she told her godmother, she doubted any duke would stay away from society for too long, even if he chose to travel back with her to see the distillery and her business.

That early evening, it took hours for her to get dressed, and she shifted impatiently as her hair was meticulously styled. Diamonds and emeralds at her ears and neck enhanced the emerald-green dress she wore. White blooms from the duchess's solarium were added to her hair, running from the side down a single plaited braid down her back.

"You look like a princess," Juno said with her hands clasped. "The duchess said I could be inside the ballroom tonight with her. I have a beautiful dress, and I am to sit and attend to her tonight."

"I'm sorry you have to be placed as lady-in-waiting," Delilah said.

Juno gasped. "Please don't apologize. This will be one of the most amazing nights. I cannot wait to go home and tell my mother and friends about this. Your godmother says the dress is mine to keep."

Delilah sighed. "I'm glad you are excited at least. This will be a trying night for me. I have to sit upstairs until I am announced. I hate the grandeur of it all, and I want this night to be over."

This time it was only her godmother who greeted guests. More were in attendance than the first gala, where she met Julian for the first time. Each guest or family was announced formally while she waited upstairs, and that included Julian and his father, plus Cameron Hershel. It was five minutes after the last guest had arrived that Delilah made her way down the stairs and was announced.

"Delilah Le Croix, goddaughter of Grand Duchess Ellington."

Her name was called with formality, and she stepped inside the ballroom to gasps of awe. The grand duchess, in her own regalia and satin silver dress, seemed to sail over and took her hand to lead her further into the room.

"You look ethereal," her godmother whispered in her ear.

"Aunt Bibbie, you're up to something," Delilah murmured.

Julian came up next to them and took her hand, kissing her knuckles in the presence of everyone. He was dressed in black tails with a pristine white shirt, his tucked ascot the exact same color as her dress.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to celebrate with us tonight," the grand duchess said. "What are we celebrating, you may ask? The courtship and engagement of my goddaughter, Delilah Le Croix, to Duke Julian Blackshire!"

Another round of gasps echoed in the room, and exuberant laudation came from Julian's father, Cameron, and her friends Mallory, Betsy, and Gwen. While they all looked stunned, their faces were pleased, while others glowered and looked offended by the announcement. Julian, on the other hand, looked victorious. Delilah could barely fathom the news. She didn't know she was being courted, let alone engaged, and when she faced Aunt Bibbie, her smile was wide.

"Everyone, dance and celebrate the union of my goddaughter and the duke," Aunt Bibbie called out. "Begin the music!"

The orchestra began a happy melody with the harpist as guests came forward to offer their congratulations.

"You didn't tell us that you were being courted." Betsy took her hand when her friends came to offer their own blessings.

"It was a surprise to me as well," Delilah murmured.

Julian soon took her hand and led her away to dance with the others on the ballroom floor. "I know this comes as a surprise."

"Very much so," Delilah answered. "Why I wasn't informed of this development, I'll never know."

"Because The Sun Catcher would've sailed that very same day so you could avoid the celebration and marriage," he replied, amused.

"There are many women who are more suitable—"

"No, they are not." Julian stopped her words and met her gaze. "None of them are you. We will talk about all of this after this is all over, myself, you, and your godmother. The benefits of our union secure your position as well."

"My position?"

"To be your own woman, independent, and to hold on to all you have built," Julian said in a low voice. "My Delilah, there are others who know the value of all you have built and wait patiently for Bronwyn to die so they can take it from you. The dangers do not end because you sail away from London shores. But no more of this. We'll discuss this after the ball."

"Am I being forced to marry you?" she asked bluntly.

"I would never force anything on any woman, especially not you," Julian said emphatically, then gentled his voice. "You have free choice to make that decision after we talk, but I would hope you have some affection for me and say yes."

"Your letter, it stirred something within me. Did you mean all you said?" Her heart raced in her chest as she stared into his eyes. The room seemed to disappear, all except the music, as they moved across the floor.

"Every word and more," Julian answered huskily. "You are mine, and I will not let anyone else take you from me. You are in every breath I take."

"Am I in your heart then," Delilah said, "and this is no deception?"

"You are," he said simply.

Delilah let their words fall away as they danced. As the night progressed, more people offered their well-wishes. They all wore forced smiles, thinking that their deception didn't travel to their eyes, but she could see it. The hate, jealousy, and bigotry of people who thought themselves better than her but were too afraid to show it in front of her godmother or her fiancé. The word came easily to her mind and didn't fill her with as much terror as she would have thought.

Yet the clawing desperation of needing to escape and take a deep breath of air became all-consuming. Delilah made her way to the French doors that led to the garden. No one strolled on the path. A rain had come through and left the outside damp and the grass wet, and the air smelled clean and fresh as she inhaled. She lifted her head to the sky and wished the night to be over soon. Delilah strolled away on the path, not afraid of the damp on the hem of her dress. Two figures stepped out of the darkness, and her heart froze in her chest. The cruel face of Ian Saur appeared first, then Lord Gibson's leering smile.

"It seems congratulations on your upcoming nuptials are in order." Lord Gibson spoke in a mild voice. As they stepped forward, she stepped back.

Delilah lifted her head defiantly. "I'm sure your name was not on the guest list."

"Listen to her putting on airs," Saur said. "If she was in America, she would know her place. Her kind needs to be beaten into submission."

"And if you know my intended, you'd both fear for your lives right now," she added bravely and cast a disgusted glance at Ian Saur. His short, stocky build and bullish face did not make him appealing in the least. "One of these days, the souls of all you hurt are going to drag you into the grave."

"She's a brave girl now. Remember how she cowered and begged in those stalls?" Ian leered. "We have plans for you, little whore, and what's between your legs."

"You abused a young girl. I am a woman now, and I refuse to cower for the likes of you." Delilah spat out the words. "Go back to your new life, Lord Gibson. I hear it's a hotel, poverty. And take your rabid dog with you."

"You'll regret those words." Lord Gibson grabbed her shoulders and tried to kiss her. Delilah struggled against him and bit his lip, drawing blood that she spat away in disgust. "Julian will have your hands for touching me."

"He'll have to catch us first. Take her, Ian," Lord Gibson ordered.

The bullish man tried to grab her around the waist and cover her mouth with his hand. Delilah bit him until he gave a shout of pain and let go. A slap burned her face and made her cry out, and she tasted the blood from her lips before she heard a primal cry of pure rage. She turned to see Julian rushing toward her with two of her godmother's house guards. Fear crossed Saur's and Lord Gibson's faces, and they took off running as the guards ran past her to stop them both from escaping. Julian stopped and took her into his arms.

"Are you alright?" he asked and turned her face to his. Seeing blood on her lip, he took his handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against her skin. "I'm going to make them pay for drawing blood from your lip, and for the scar on your back."

"They said they have plans for me." Delilah looked up at him.

Julian pulled her into his strong embrace. "None of which will come to fruition. They'll be arrested now, being on the grand duchess's property, accosting her goddaughter. They'll be taken to the magistrate's and be put in prison with the other sycophants, rapists, and murderers just like them."

"And if they get away?"

"Then I will track them down myself and dispatch my own justice." Julian pressed a soft kiss on the corner of her lip that was bruised, then another. "My Delilah, my forever."

This time it was she who settled her lips on his and, regardless of the dull pain on her mouth, shared an intimate kiss. With a deep groan, he pulled her closer to his chest and took over. Delilah felt like heat infused her body, and all thoughts of Lord Gibson and Ian Saur drifted away from her memory.

Julian lifted his head. "I shall never have enough of your kisses. We should return before people think I'm taking advantage of you."

"We know what they think about me." Delilah smiled. "More than likely, they will assume I'm seducing you."

His laugh echoed in the night as he took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm. "Let us rejoin our engagement party."

Before they could step away, Delilah noticed one the flowers from her hair on the pathway and bent to take it up.

"May I have it?" Julian asked. "As a memento."

"Yes, you may. Will it be pressed into your journal?" she teased.

He pressed a kiss at her temple as they began to move again. "Exactly that."

The night progressed according to plan. Delilah watched in amusement as Emma Smith shot her deathly looks from across the room. She breathed a sigh of relief when guests started to leave, and with the last one, she was able to kick off her shoes and wiggle her toes.

Aunt Bibbie came up and held out her hand. "We shall talk in the solarium, away from prying ears, as the cleanup of the ballroom begins."

"I saw Julian leave with his father," Delilah pointed out. "Can we do this tomorrow?"

"Julian is already there, the pretense of his leaving with his father to uphold our reputation," Aunt Bibbie replied.

"As if I have one." Delilah smiled tiredly. "It always amuses me that you think high society sees me as anything but your pet."

Aunt Bibbie's lips firmed in a tight line. "What they think is no concern of mine unless it is said to my face. Then I will answer the insult in kind. Until then, we follow etiquette to the letter to maintain your social standing."

"Does this mean I have to put my shoes back on?" Delilah asked, batting her eyes at the only family she had in this world.

Aunt Bibbie lifted the hem of her dress. "Mine have been off for at least an hour before people started to leave. How no one noticed I lost two inches in height, I will never know."

"You are such a naughty woman." Delilah took her hand with a laugh. "And they wonder where I learned all my bad habits."

"They will never know." Aunt Bibbie laughed as they walked through the massive house to her sanctuary in the solarium.

Julian stood from where he sat when they entered the room. "Ladies, you are still a vision even after this long night."

"I don't want to ruin your image of the perfect beauty of women, but we left our shoes in the ballroom," Delilah told him.

He grinned. "In the defiance of society's norms, makes you all the more flawless."

The two women sat down before Julian took his own seat. Silence reigned before Aunt Bibbie finally spoke.

"I have no children, no heirs, and at my death, my wealth will return to the Crown, as will my title," she said bluntly. "That includes any gifts I made to my goddaughter: the land where your home sits, the distillery, the sugarcane fields, all of it. Regardless of my fondness for you, Delilah, or the fact that I consider you, my daughter."

"Can they do that?" Delilah gasped. Her heart hurt at the thought of losing all her home and all she had built. "There are titled lords and ladies of my color."

"They can, and to not let anyone know this has happened with their approval, they will marry you off to the first person willing to claim you as a wife," Julian replied. "Those titles are gifts to save face and make it seem as if high society is truly equitable for people of brown color. It was highly opposed by many, but as you know, the Queen is very rarely given a no by King."

"If you marry Julian, I can bequeath you both my wealth, and you can become Grand Duchess. Julian is next in line for the highest title other than king and queen," Aunt Bibbie said gently. "They cannot refuse the wife of the grand duke her title. I would rather see you have it all or burn it all to the ground before I see it go to some of these so-called high society people, the best and the worst of us."

"A marriage of convenience." Delilah gave a short, caustic laugh. "I thought I was free of all this—the politics of using women as a source of power and wealth."

Julian took her hand. "Much more than a union to join wealth. I care for you, and I hope you'd have the same affinity for me."

"I'm to trust your feelings now?" she asked. "You and Aunt Bibbie had this planned before I even knew. I was given notification with everyone else tonight."

"If anyone else knew of this, our plan could have been thwarted," Aunt Bibbie pointed out. "The marriage will be in three weeks, so you must extend your time here until then."

"Doesn't this give Lord Gibson and his cohort more time to try and hurt me?" Delilah asked. "After tonight, I can see they have nothing to lose."

"They were here tonight?" Aunt Bibbie asked sharply.

"They accosted her and tried to take her," Julian affirmed. "They will be on the run now, fearful of the constables and magistrates."

"Even so, men in desperation often act like feral animals when cornered," Aunt Bibbie said. "The audacity of them both to step foot on my property. Guards will now watch the estate around-the-clock until the wedding happens, and you are securely away back to Barbados."

"And what of this union? I shall be tucked away on the island while Duke Blackshire is free to do as he wants within society?" Delilah glared at him. "Was this your intent all along, to play with my emotions and enact your true plan?"

"You approached me, Delilah, not the other way around," he replied smoothly. "I plan to be with you on The Sun Catcher and on the island. I will stay. I find that London and its politics no longer suit me. We will continue as before, traveling only when need be to ensure our business assets are running smoothly, with trusted people in place in our absence."

Delilah looked at him, shocked. "Why, the island doesn't have many of the amenities you have here, no real tearooms or seasons of events and parties."

Julian grinned. "It sounds perfect for me then."

Aunt Bibbie gave her a direct look. "Since you left, I have very rarely asked for anything, except a cask of rum or two when you do visit. This marriage will happen. I am still your benefactor, and no monies or dowery will leave my hands until it does."

Delilah could see she was serious. "I want writings in place to show my assets. The ones I built are mine alone."

"The contracts will still stand, Delilah. Nothing changed because of our union," Julian promised. "On my honor, all I want to do is marry and protect you. You have secured my affection, and that will never change."

"You'll be a duchess, and all that is mine, including this house, will be yours at my death," Aunt Bibbie promised.

Delilah noted that he voiced his caring but not love. Wasn't that the most important part of a foundation of marriage? She assumed that they would grow fond of each other over time, but this news made her wonder. They both looked at her, patiently awaiting her decision, but as Aunt Bibbie pointed out, the marriage would happen, and she had no choice.

"Very well then, three weeks and a marriage before I leave for home," Delilah said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Very good!" Aunt Bibbie clapped her hands happily. "Now I will leave you two for a moment to say your goodbyes."

Julian stood as Delilah did, and after she kissed her godmother's cheek and the older woman left the room, it was only then that she turned to him. He pulled her into his embrace, but her body stayed stiff because she didn't know if she could trust her feelings or his intent.

"I promise you, Delilah, I am not going to hurt you," Julian said fervently. "There is nothing to fear from me ever, not my touch, my honor, my care for you."

"Care, it sounds so much less than love." Delilah looked up at him, stepped out of his arms, and turned to walk away. "I trust neither."

"Then trust what I make you feel. Trust my words in my letter," he called to her.

Her steps faltered for a moment at the door, but she didn't turn to face him. Instead, she moved up the steps to her rooms on bare feet. She was to feel free when she left London again, but Delilah now felt trapped, smothered by the place and the people, and her life being dictated by others. They both said it was to protect her, but she was just in another gilded cage.