The Unchaste

Bosom Friends

Drinking had never been anything of luck of the draw short for Delilah. Ever.

Never.

So when she had said it and was done, her face turned lost color, and then attained it back tenfold.

“Oh dear...good God.” She whispered frantically, not realizing just how barely she was indeed audible to him. “Foolish! Foolish…you!”

The duke leaned forward.

“I beg to differ.” He argued softly. “I haven’t even said anything to be arraigned of such labels yet.”

Delilah watched him in a startled alarm and admiration. He could hear her thoughts dammit!

“Only when you are thinking out aloud like that, Miss Eves.” He gave her a solemn look. “And because we are sitting so close.”

Delilah’s awe-struck face soon gave into the profoundest scowl feasible as his words cut through the haze enveloping her mind.

That dreadful, dreaded drink!

“About Lady Tiffany, your Grace,” she cleared her throat subtly. “I beg your pardon. That was very assertive of me.”

“Was it, Miss Eves?”

She stole a quick look of his face and his calm and clear façade bewildered her fairly. Men, usually, had been an easy read for her.

“I shall be leaving, your grace.” She dropped her silverware and wiped her mouth. “Or so help me, if I stay, I am going to damage things for everyone.”

She stood up abruptly, staggered light-headedly as Lord Richard rose from his chair beside her followed by every other man but he grasped her arm right in time.

“Excuse me, my lord, lady Tiffany. Gentlemen. My injuries seem to be taking a toll on me. I beg to be acquitted, I fear I must retire now. Good night.”

“Would you like me to escort you, Miss Eves?” Tiffany left her seat in concern. “You look as if you would drop dead.”

Delilah so wished she could. With passion.

“I thank you, my lady but that would be much done on my credit.” She smiled. “I shall be fine on my own.”

Richard’s finger around her arm were embedding burns to her flesh and she backed away from him the moment he let go. She was quick enough to leave the hall. She stepped out into the dark, cold and quiet corridor and sighed in relief.

It was a challenge, stepping up the flights of the two grand staircases but greater still disputes charged her when she reached her floor and found that she couldn’t find her room at all.

***

“…Delilah! This was extremely foolish of you.”

“Gng.”

“Delilah. Eyes, Goddamnit!”

The tone of that sharp voice contained stunned outrage and Delilah stirred slightly, squinting her eyes open to stare into chilled darkness. She rolled her body along the wall she was sitting beside, the floor hard but warmed by the carpet. She searched the darkness until she found a dark figure looming over her. It took her several minutes to collect back her wits.

“Ah.” She grouched. “Morning.”

“Midnight.” The shadow spoke coolly. “Why aren’t you in your room? No, pray tell me, why on earth are you sleeping on the earth?”

Her neck tickled as cold hiss of mid-night air ran across the warm, newly exposed flesh. Her tummy had an unfamiliar fizz in it.

“I intend to address that problem as soon as I am able to find my door, Sir.”