Season's Feather

Chapter Fifteen

Anthony sighs as he faces Daphne. Her facial expression changing into that of confusion. She looked over to Delilah, "You told him?"

"I had to say something," Delilah said as she pulled back from Daphne.

"All will be well, though, I assure you." Anthony interrupts bringing his hand around Delilah's waist again. Daphne scoffs.

"Despite what you and my brother may think, I am quite capable of speaking for myself. You had no right 'Lilah. Even if you were in the right that night." She looks directly into Delilah's eyes. Delilah looked up at Daphne with hurt eyes. She had only been trying to help, why had it all gone so wrong?

"I was only trying to help." Her voice comes out weak, but Daphne's gaze stays firm.

"Well, you did not. All you did was underestimate Nigel's entitlement. Not to mention, people are watching. You cannot assure me of anything." She gives one last look towards Delilah, her own eyes appearing glossy.

Daphne turns and walks away. Delilah watches with tears in her eyes, until she spots Berbrooke slowly mangling through the crowd in Daphne's direction.

"Don't worry love, she's just upset. She'll come around." Anthony said, bringing a hand to wipe stray tears off her face.

But she was no longer sad, she needed to get to Daphne. "Yes, yes, I know. I just need some air. I'll be back darling."

Delilah was walking around London when she stumbled across Simon. He looked equally surprised to see her.

"Lily?" He asked.

"Hello." She smiled sadly.

He slowed his step for her to come next to him, "I take it Daphne was not happy with you either."

"No," Delilah shook her head, "She was not."

Silence transcended upon the two of them until hurried footsteps sounded behind them. Delilah and Simon both turned quickly to see Nigel Berbrooke there. He took a step back at the sight of them both.

"Only me, Your Grace," His eyes looked over at Delilah, "Miss Silvester."

"Are you following me, Berbrooke?" Simon's voice came, "I thought this matter was settled."

"It was settled until Miss. Silvester had to go and spoil it." Berbrooke said, "I implore you to speak with the viscount again. Last night was a mistake, I admit. A temporary lack of judgment. You understand that, do you not?"

Simon stepped forward a little, "There is not and never will be any kind of understanding between the two of us."

Delilah stood tense. This was not a good situation, her mind was running with all the ways Nigel Berbrooke could spin this moment into a scandal.

"Go home Berbrooke," Simon said.

"But you do not need her." Berbrooke replied, "You are a duke. You already have the money, the connections, and the standing. I need her. Why can't you let me have this one?" He asked.

Delilah was never more angry with men than in that moment. Nigel Berbrooke was not a man, he was a filthy rat who thought because of money and a title that he could have anyone he so chose. It infuriated her.

"I think it really ought to be up to Miss Bridgerton," Delilah spoke calmly.

But that only made Berbrooke more angry. He gave her a piercing look, "When I am buying a horse, I do not negotiate with the horse."

"Go home, Lord Berbrooke," Delilah spoke.

"Why, then, have you not asked for her hand if you are so fond of her, and she is so smitten with you?" Nigel asked, "Why have you not already proposed? Unless you already had her. Or, unless, you are with someone else?"