The Unchaste

The Pendant

It was a fine day in the country; even the northernmost Yorkshire looked resplendent in that debonair winter sun, warming the chilled ambience and defrosting the frozen birches in the forest.

Delilah watched the far and wide raging curves of rampant moors fill the landscape from Lord Richard’s study’s floor-to-ceiling window, longing to step out in the open air but was waiting for His Grace to appear as it had been still two minutes to ten and he was still to come into attendance.

Her head throbbed from the exploit she had pulled last night by entrusting herself to alcohol and her nerves were jittery because despite all imminent after-effects of intoxication, she remembered_ word to word_ the conversation she had had with the duke at the table last night.

She had once prided herself for discretion, of her diplomacy and simple lack of judgment for those around her but with Lord Richard, she had done all things antithesis. Goading his personal affair with Lady Tiffany and Kissing him made to the top of her list.

Could she have unkissed him, she would have.

Her pacing stopped when she heard his voice outside the door, which then was shifted ajar and the said lord entered the room, communicating some lasting order with the officer who remained beyond the door.

As soon as the privacy of closed chamber was provided to them, Delilah curtseyed to the man, who had_ without acknowledging her_ walked up to his desk and was standing beside it no, reading a parchment.

Something was amiss.

Delilah suffered it in his air and tensed unconsciously. He was quiet, he hadn’t regarded her yet and he was yet to address her.

If it was about her comment on lady Tiffany last night, then his umbrage was rational and Delilah was genuinely apologetic. Wicked or not, his interest in a woman was none of her bleeding concern. She had just no right to ask him of his mistresses so outrightly.

“Your Grace_”

“Some of us have casual death-wishes.” He commented abruptly_ uncaringly, and such a comment that it was, Delilah frowned. “Don’t you agree, Miss Eves?”

It would have been absolute imprudence to speak, like walking into the cage of Siberian lion painted in blood, so Delilah remained cautiously out of words. She didn’t cower from the dark radiance he seemed to be exuding but she dared not open her mouth and give away how nervous she was inside.

“Take you, for instant.” His icy blue eyes shredded into her. “I take the pain of warning you again and again and you do most mendacious things out and out. You do have a death wish here, don’t you Miss Eves?”

Lord Richard had never, ever talked to her like this. He had been skillfully crafty in his warnings, he had been obliging. Never had he spewed out assertions so openly.

Delilah stood airily there, looking him into his eyes and wondering how to take his words. What had given her away so completely? Had she revealed something to him in her state last night?

What even was he talking about?

“If this is about the former night, your Grace_” She licked her lips. “I am deeply regretful for my behavior.”

“Oh you do know what this is about.” He tilted his head in slow study. “You know very well.”

Delilah opened her mouth to voice her oblivion but paused and wondered. She knew?

“I doubt I do, your Grace.” She blubbered and lowered her eyes to his desk.

Richard straightened further and folded his hand behind his back, which professed his shoulder into a broader stance, he had always towered her but now, he was towering her intentionally. The lord sauntered in front of her and Delilah tensed all the more.