“And we’ve decided, Dot, that you can go, too,” Delilah said hurriedly.
“Oh, HOORAY! Thank you thank you thank you!” Dot gave a delighted hop.
And Alexandra was suddenly radiant with delight and surprise, even as she looked uncertain.
“Delacorte and I will take good care of the ladies,” Magnus assured everyone present.
Thusly earning beams from everyone present.
“Be prepared for lots of cheerful shouting.” Delacorte was brisk. “But wear something you don’t mind getting splashed.”
“Splashed? With what?” Dot wondered.
“Oh, it could be anything, at the donkey races,” he said happily.
Two old brown wool cloaks were scared up, and these were meant to cover Dot and Alexandra from head to toe, so that they looked a bit like monks or peasant women and less like nice young women who had no business going to a donkey race. Theytied aprons over walking dresses and wore their sturdiest walking shoes. Mr. Delacorte apparently kept an old coat and a pair of trousers just for such occasions as nighttime donkey races, but Magnus hadn’t brought any very old or worn clothing with him to The Grand Palace on the Thames.
“I’ll hope for the best,” he said dryly.
This odd little band filed out the door, promising to be in well before curfew.
Angelique went upstairs in search of Lucien.
And just like that the sitting room was quiet at seven o’clock in the evening for the first time in the history of The Grand Palace on the Thames.
Delilah looked at her husband, then went to sit down across from him.
“Well, my love,” she said. “Everyone except Angelique and Lucien has gone to a donkey race. What shall we do?”
Captain Hardy clapped his book closed. “Go to church.”
Just one of the delightful aspects of being married was the gradual development of their own secret coded language.
“Go to church” meant “make love.”
It had as its origins the meandering discussion they’d had one night about the “with my body, I thee worship” part of the traditional wedding ceremony. They had both taken this part of their vows quite to heart.
They’d been married for a little over a year and he could still make her blush.
“You certainly didn’t need much time to ponder that.”
“Why would I ever need to ponder that when I’m married toyou, Delilah?”
“Unassailable logic.”
He grinned at her.
His grin faded. “The truth is, I’m beginning to feel outclassed by a bloody corporal.”
“Oh, it’s probably theater. The noises. Don’t you think?”
“Perhaps. But let’s say it is. How would a girl like that know what sort of sounds she ought to make?” he asked.
“Hmm. Good point.”
They contemplated this a moment.
“I’m a little worried they’re going to wear it out,” Delilah said.