“Here you are, Miss Delia.”
She sat up, taking the cup between her hands. The warmth of it soothed as Sally banked the pillows behind her.
“There, now, is that more comfy?”
Sitting back, Delia sighed, and the uncomfortable knot in her bosom eased a little. She sipped the hot liquid, grateful for its bitter tang and the honeyed sweetness that followed. She took several swallows, feeling the comfort all the way down to her toes.
“Mm, that’s good. Thank you, Sally.”
The maid nodded, but her expression was grim as she perched on the edge of the bed. “Now then, young madam, what’s the tale?”
All Delia’s careful arguments vanished, along with restraint as a heartfelt sob escaped. “Oh, Sally…”
“Miss Delia! Ah, don’t cry, dovey! What a wretch I am to plague you after such an ordeal.”
Delia tried to sniff back the tears, but it was of no use. As fast as she dashed them away, more trickled down her cheeks. The cup was taken out of her hand and set aside. Next moment she was pulled into her maid’s arms, just as she had been in years gone by, and Sally was crooning into her ear.
The incongruity of it made her laugh and she recovered swiftly, pulling back and groping under her pillows for the handkerchief that was always there. Sally waited for her to wipe her eyes and blow her nose and then handed her the cup of chocolate again.
“There, finish that up, dovey, and then I’ll leave you to rest. You can tell it all later.”
But the urge to talk about Giff was too strong. “No, I’ll tell you now, only you must promise to keep mum.”
The maid bridled. “As if I’d give away one of your secrets, Miss Delia! You know me better than that.”
Agitation crept back. “But this isn’t my secret, Sally. It’s vital you don’t speak of it. A man’s life is at stake!”
Sally’s eyes grew round, half in astonishment, half sparkling in gathering wrath. “A man, Miss Delia? What man is this, if I may ask?”
Delia let out an overwrought breath. “I knew you’d start! For heaven’s sake, Sally, if you are going to be difficult, I shan’t be able to tell you.”
“You’ll tell me right now, young madam, or you’ll be telling her ladyship.”
“Betray me to my aunt? You wouldn’t!”
“I’ll have to if you won’t start talking.”
“Ha! So much for all your dovey stuff, you traitress!”
Delia thrust the empty cup at her and threw herself back against the cushions, folding her arms and glaring at the maid, who stared her out in silence. Many an argument had she won thus, but Delia was determined she would not win this one. She knew Sally would never carry out her threat. The maid was far too fond of her to prove disloyal.
Sure enough, in a moment Sally began to fidget and look away. She uttered a mewl of frustration. “Try the patience of a saint, you would, Miss Delia! All right, you have my word. I won’t say nothing to no one.” She put up a warning finger. “But I’ll have the truth now and no nonsense, you hear me?”
Delia smiled at her, leaning in and putting out her hands, which the maid grasped and squeezed. “You’re a treasure, Sally. I’ll trust you.”
“So I should hope, my dovey. Now, then, what’s all this about a man?”
Delia drew an unsteady breath. “His name is Giff and he’s a fugitive.”
Waking all too early again, Delia lay blinking in the dazzle of morning. It was too hot to be enclosed in the stuffy cocoon of the bed-curtains, and she’d left them tied at the posts and kept the shutters open at the windows too.
Another glorious dawn awaited. She wished she might find it in her to rejoice, but her mind obstinately dwelled on a back room in a far rectory. If she’d not been obliged endlessly to repeat the expurgated tale of her so-called adventure, she could have allowed the whole episode to sink into the background. In the few days since Aunt Gertrude had recovered enough to venture forth, it seemed every second person wanted to hear Delia’s story.
The tale had spread within hours, bringing Lady Matterson’s friends to their parlour to exclaim and bless themselves. Delia could escape from there, but it was impossible to evade the questions once she accompanied her aunt abroad. Scarce a moment in the routine of the day was spent without company. Aunt’s cronies even came to breakfast once or twice to partake of the fresh fish procured from the fishing boats down at the market on the beach.
Delia thrust herself out of bed and padded over to the window, from where she had a view of the sea beyond the Esplanade, bounded by a stretch of sand. The dippers were already busy, but it was no use hoping for a bathe this early. Aunt Gertrude would be cross if she went without her. A longing to be out in the fresh air would not be contained. She would dress and accompany Scoley down to the fish market.
Thus determined, she rang the bell for Sally.