Here her thoughts failed her, a squeezing sensation in her bosom making it difficult to breathe. Was it love to be fearful for a man’s life? To be trying what she could to avert his falling into his enemy’s hands? She’d found him a romantic figure from the first. But there was a difference between fantasy and fact. He was half a phantom, appearing out of the blue, turning her life upside down and vanishing again. No, she could not believe in a future with Giff. Once he was safe, she would slip back into the dull existence that was her lot. Her heart dropped at the thought, but rose again when she reflected that she must first ensure his safety.
Her aunt spoke at last, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Very well, child. I will accept your denials for the moment. But you may confide in me at need, Delia. Who knows but I may be able to help you?”
Delia eyed her, wary and a little tempted. But it would not do. Giff was her secret, and she could share him with no one. She’d been obliged to tell Sally of her adventure, but not a word of Giff’s return had passed her lips.
“I thank you, Aunt Gertrude, but truly I have nothing to confide.”
A sigh escaped Lady Matterson and her eyes dulled. Guilt rushed through Delia and she almost gave in. But in a moment, her aunt resumed her normal manner.
“If you have finished, my dear, we should start for the Assembly Rooms. I am engaged to play whist with Mrs Poynings and Lord Hadlow. Though if I am again paired with Warbleton, I shall be less than pleased.”
She did not revert to the subject of the morning, much to Delia’s relief. And once out of doors, they very soon encountered others who had likewise enjoyed their breakfast after an early dip and were ready to embark upon the pastimes of the day.
Delia had deposited her aunt in the card room, where her cronies were gathering, and managed to avoid Miss Watkinson, who was haranguing her acolytes into arrangements for an excursion to the ruined Sandsfoot Castle. Delia would doubtless find herself cornered in due course, but she needed breathing space after the quizzing she’d gone through. Slipping away, she had headed for the circulating library, where she found her mind just as jumpy and distrait as Lady Matterson had described.
She wandered along the shelves, picking out volumes at random and flipping them open. But not a word she read made sense.
Had Barney passed on her message? One would think he would do so immediately. Then why had Piers not made any move? Giff said he was staying nearby. The wretched man had only to ride or drive into the town to find her. Or was she too late? What if Giff had confronted him already? Might they have fought? Was Piers injured perhaps? That would prevent his coming. But then what of Giff’s safety? A horrid thought surfaced.
He’d been taken!
Delia’s heart began to thump, and she stared at the book open in her hands without seeing it. Yes, that must be it. He was captured. Even dead by now. He’d run his head into danger and the villain’s men had murdered him!
“Miss Burloyne?”
Delia’s heart jerked with violence. She gave a shriek of fright and the book leapt from her hands.
The voice was male and had spoken low near her ear. As she turned, a gentleman was bending to retrieve the book.
“Good heavens, sir, how you startled me!”
He rose and Delia, still breathless, her pulse racing, found she was gazing at an unknown face. It was alien, yet achingly familiar and she at once knew who had accosted her.
“Mr Gaunt!”
He was engaged in straightening the bent pages of the book she’d dropped, but he looked up at this, surprise in his eyes — so like and yet unlike. “You guess correctly, ma’am.”
“It’s no guess, sir. I can see the resemblance.”
His brows rose and his features creased into a fastidious sneer. The similarity to Giff faded. Giff never sneered. “I cannot say I am flattered. However, I see I was not mistaken. You were in his company that day.”
Her pulse was still abnormally fast, but Delia hit back boldly. “I should not otherwise have known how to send to you, should I?”
A thin smile curved his lip, fuller than Giff’s she saw now. Piers’s features were altogether more rounded, without the lean-toned muscle that characterised her prince. Delia doubted he had the same wiry strength or stamina. “You surprised me, Miss Burloyne, I’ll give you that.”
“Indeed? Why, I wonder? Did you think me an innocent victim in this farce? Why should you suppose your quarry would try to reach me in that case? That is why you’ve had me watched, is it not?”
His eyes narrowed. “You do favour a direct approach, ma’am.”
Delia eyed him, debating her next move. Her pulse was settling and she could think with more clarity. She opted for duplicity, pinning a smile to her lips. “I could think of no other way to be rid of the horrid sensation of being spied upon.”
His brows drew together. She’d puzzled him. Would he admit the truth?
“That’s why you sent to me?”
“Why else? It’s excessively uncomfortable to feel one is being watched. And those creatures of yours managed to evade Captain Rhoades’ men.”
His frown persisted. “You bewilder me, Miss Burloyne. How much do you know?”