Page 81 of Lady Delilah Dares a Duke
“It’s your vision, skill, and determination that saw Wimberley Hill go from dream to reality. These actors, painters, writers, musicians… They all haveyouto thank. AndI, Sebastian,” she continued through the emotion clogging her throat, “I have you to thank for this life.Ourlife.”
She found that she had much to say to this husband of hers, and she couldn’t stop now, though she sensed everyone waiting for her. What she needed to say here, to him, was of much more vital importance than anything she would say on that stage tonight.
Oh, what a changed woman she was that that could be true.
“Without you, I would’ve lived a life of frustration. You freed me.” Delilah rubbed her rounded belly. “And this babe—be it boy or girl—will be the most fortunate child in the world to call you father.”
“I’d like her to call me Papa.”
Delilah wouldn’t be deterred by levity. Archie was her brother, after all, so she was well accustomed to such attempts—and how to sidestep them. “AndIam the most fortunate wife in the world to call you husband.” Tears broke free and slipped down her cheeks. “I love our life, Seb. I loveyou.”
*
This tender andvulnerable Delilah in his arms, Sebastian couldn’t have predicted her a few years ago. When he’d first fallen for her, he’d been drawn by the brilliance of her light, but he hadn’t suspected that another light lay behind it. A softer light. A light warm and nurturing. A light that invited growth and bloom. He cupped the back of her head and angled his own down for a kiss—a kiss that ever sparked kindling inside him.
Later, after the play was performed and the audience was on its feet in rapturous applause, Delilah rushed backstage as fast as her belly would allow and found Sebastian in the wings. She took his hand and said, “You’re coming with me.”
If Sebastian had known she was going to pull him onto the boards, he might’ve offered some resistance. But now he stood in a line with all the Windermeres and their respective spouses, and he was glad as he scanned the crowd beyond the stage lights and found the figure he sought. A smile curved his mouth.
Oliver Quincy.
Delilah had been utterly confounded when he’d insisted on inviting the man. “But he’s an absolute twit.”
“True.”
“And he ruined my one night in a featured role with the Albion Players,” she said, the grudge she yet harbored understandably deep.
“Also true.”
Nothing his wife said ran counter to Sebastian’s feelings regarding Quincy, but he’d held firm in his determination to extend the man an invitation. For one simple reason: Sebastian would be forever indebted to Oliver Quincy.
He’d made Delilah run…
To him.
What Sebastian knew was that Oliver Quincy—absolute twit that he was—would always find good favor with the Duke of Ravensworth. He squeezed his wife’s hand and let her warmth—herfire—blaze through him as he met Quincy’s eye and nodded.
*
Oliver Quincy returnedthe Duke of Ravensworth’s nod, as he stood with the rest of the audience. Truly, he could hardly countenance his good fortune.
It was a moment of honesty and self-reflection that passed quickly.
Why wouldn’t a duke defer to him, really? And send him invitations to exclusive performances that had the rest of thetongagging with envy?
No matter that this particular event—really, a duchess heavy with child waddling about a stage wielding a battle axe!—held not the slightest bit of interest for him. But it did confirm the man of quality he was. Others would have to take notice.
And yet…
He couldn’t help but squint against their reflected glory. Gads, those Windermeres were tall and striking…excessivelytall and striking. Their height and good looks and general charm bordered on the garish.
It was simply that those Windermeres appeared so very and unapologetically…
In love.
More than a trifle gauche to be so very, unapologetically—excessively—in love.
But also, it had to be admitted, so very, unapologetically—excessively—Windermere.
The End
