was the possibility—even the probability—of hurt.
For both of them.
And could she do it? Could she be someone who partook of pleasure for pleasure’s sake, without feeling like an object again, like a man’s means to an end? It was not so long ago she’d reclaimed her true self. It was still a little fragile, fresh out of the cocoon, as it were.
Would the hurt be worth the pleasure?
Oh, how she wanted to know about the pleasure.
When she could move again from the window, she went downstairs to the kitchen.
And as she’d anticipated, the kitchen was so bustling—Angelique and the two maids-of-all-work and Helga were all chatting, chopping, and peeling—it was temporarily easy to forget that while the rest of the building was emptier than she preferred it to be, one particular man seemed to take up an undue amount of space and air.
Delilah sat down and took up a paring knife and set into the apples.
“They eat like horses, men do!” Helga said happily. She was in her element stuffing hungry people full of food. “Girls, the scullery needs attention. Off wi’ ye now! Dot, would you be a good lass and go and fetch a bit of butter?”
The scullery maids and Dot scurried off.
Delilah lowered her voice. “May I ask you ladies a question? I must warn you it’s of a rather personal nature.”
“Of course, Lady Derring. There is very little what can surprise me now at me age,” Helga said briskly.
“Perhaps you’d like to put the pan down first, Helga?”
Angelique had already fixed Delilah with a wary look. Almost as though she knew precisely what she was about to ask.
“Well, now, I’m just about to put these apple tarts on to bake, Lady Derring. I’ve not a moment to spare, if we’re to have them with dinner, and I assure you my constitution is sturdier than even this.” She gave the bottom of the cast iron pan an affectionate pat.
“Very well.” She cleared her throat. Her face was already scorching. “My question is . . . my question is this. Does . . . having . . . er, relations with a man ever feel . . . well, pleasant?”
They all clapped their hands over their ears when the pot hit the floor.
They really had no choice but to wait it out as it wobbled to a stop.
“Is it really that shocking of a question?” she asked, weakly when it did, finally.
“From you,” Angelique and Helga said at once.
“Sorry,” Helga had the grace to add hurriedly. “It’s just you’re so sweet and proper, Lady Derring, one doesn’t imagine you . . . wondering those sorts of things. Or doing those sorts of things.”
Delilah was scorching with a blush now, but she was determined to soldier through. “Because proper women don’t do them?” she said dryly. “Or because proper women don’t enjoy them?”
Helga and Angelique didn’t answer this question.
“Delilah . . .” Angelique began. “Whatever you’re thinking or considering, you ought to stop it straight away. You do not have the experience or the constitution to handle the consequences.”
To her astonishment a red haze of fury moved over Delilah’s eyes.
“Angelique.”
Her tone made Helga and Angelique go motionless in shock. It dripped icicles.
Angelique’s eyes went huge.
“I understand that life has been unfair to you and that your acerbic nature is something of a defense,” Delilah said. “I enjoy your humor more often than not. But I’ve grown weary of the condescension and I will thank you not to treat me like a child. Please remember how and through whom we came to be acquainted if you think to lord your experience over me.”
She was an aristocrat speaking to an underling. Even as the words left her mouth she was aware that she’d said too much, in the wrong tone, and in the wrong place, and the wrong time, and it was thanks to her nerves being abraded by want and the lack of sleep due to lustful imaginings.
And yet. The words and the sentiments had been simmering there all along.
Angelique’s face had blanked utterly.
Her eyes fixed on Delilah, unblinking.
Then she slowly pushed her chair back.
Stood motionless for a millisecond, while everyone watched her breathlessly.
And walked out of the room with the grace and dignity of an empress.
She didn’t look back once.
The room was silent after that.
“Shall I begin looking for other employment?” Helga sounded resigned. She’d worked in a number of households and circumstances, was accustomed to thinking three steps ahead. “Will it all go to pieces now?”
“No. Forgive me,