Del nodded. “My batman is Cobby, and…” He looked at Deliah.
With a slight frown, she supplied, “My majordomo is Janay.”
“Excellent-I’ll speak with Mr. Cobby and Mr. Janay. I take it your carriages are outside?” When Del assented, the clerk dispatched his underlings to direct the carriages into the mews, then came around the counter. “If you’ll come this way, Colonel, Miss Duncannon, I’ll show you to your rooms. Your bags will be brought up momentarily.”
The next hours went in the inevitable bustle of settling into their rooms. The suite-something Deliah wouldn’t have thought of to request-was commodious. Both the large sitting room and her adjoining bedchamber had wide windows overlooking the street. Contrary to her expectations, Del had managed the arrangements perfectly well. While she dressed for dinner, she thought again of the stipulations he’d made, a clear indication of how seriously he took the threat of the Black Cobra.
She sat at the dressing table and let Bess have at her hair.
Deftly rewinding the long tresses into a neat knot, then anchoring it atop Deliah’s head with a tortoiseshell comb, Bess nodded at her in the mirror. “Just as well I didn’t put all your evening gowns in the big trunks.”
Deliah grimaced; most of her clothes, along with all her other baggage, were traveling north by carter. “How many do we have?”
“This, and the emerald silk.” Bess set in the final pin. “There.” She stood back. “Perhaps if there’s time while we’re in town, you might get another. If we’re going to some duke’s house, even for a few days, you’ll need it.”
“We’ll see.” Deliah rose; she paused by the cheval glass and checked the fall of her plum silk gown, with its raised waist and scalloped neckline. Satisfied, she headed for the door to the sitting room.
They’d arranged to have dinner in the suite. Approving the menu was something Del had left to her. Janay and Cobby would serve the meal, leaving them free to discuss their plans.
Walking into the sitting room, she found Del standing by the window looking out over Albemarle Street. He turned as she entered; for an instant he seemed surprised to see her, then a knock on the door had them both turning that way.
“Come,” she called.
The door opened to admit Tony and Gervase. Both nodded rather vaguely, absorbed with scanning the room, taking note of the window and the door to her bedchamber, before surveying the table laid ready for dinner, the comfortable armchairs set before the hearth, and the excellent fire.
Brows rising, Tony strolled forward. “Not a place I’d have picked, but it seems very well suited to our needs. Our rooms are right by the stairs, and we saw where yours is-couldn’t have been better.”
Del glanced at Deliah. “The accolades are due to Miss Duncannon-Grillon’s was her suggestion.”
Both Tony and Gervase smiled and half bowed to her.
The door opened again. Seeing Janay bearing a tureen, Deliah waved to the table. “Pray be seated, gentlemen. Dinner is here.”
Del held a chair for her. She sat, with Gervase on her right, and Tony opposite.
Janay served the soup, while Cobby offered bread. When they setttled to sup, the two men left to fetch the next course.
“I have to say,” Gervase murmured, “that I never thought I’d ever stay here, bastion of the prim and proper that it is.” He glanced at Deliah. “We formed the Bastion Club late in ’15, more or less immediately we returned from the Continent, and for those of us without houses in town-like Tony here, and me-it’s become our London base over the last years.”
“We originally set it up as a gentlemen’s club,” Tony explained, “but we all married in ’16, over a period of about eight months, and our wives elected to use the club, too.”
“Gasthorpe, our majordomo, and his staff adjusted very readily.” Gervase grinned. “They’ve even coped with children on occasion.”
They were just making conversation, but Deliah wanted to know more. “How many club members are there?”
They explained, and when she probed further, elaborated. The more she heard of their families, their pasts, their presents, the more she understood of their connection to the people on their country estates-an evolution from the protectiveness that must have driven them into the services years before-the more she relaxed with them. The more she trusted them.
The fruit platter had been decimated. As Cobby and Janay cleared the table, she glanced curiously at Del. She’d trusted him from the moment they’d met.
She knew better than to trust her instincts where men were concerned-especially handsome men who made her pulse race-yet there was no denying there was something very steadying, very steadfast, about Colonel Derek Delborough.
In lieu of port, Del told Cobby to fetch a bottle of arrack from his bags, Gervase and Tony having voiced a wish to sample the Indian version of brandy.
Tony glanced at Gervase, then looked at Del. “Perhaps we should repair to your room.” He turned his charming smile on Deliah. “We should discuss strategy, which will no doubt bore Miss Duncannon to tears.”
Deliah smiled, equally charming. “On the contrary, Miss Duncannon is all ears.” Her smile took on an edge. “I know all about the Black Cobra-or at least all I need to. You and Gervase may speak freely.”
Tony and Gervase exchanged a swift, surprised, not entirely approving look, then glanced at Del.
“Two men tried to abduct Miss Duncannon during our halt at Windlesham.”
Tony and Gervase straightened. “That,” Gervase said, glancing at Deliah, “is not good news.”
“You didn’t manage to capture them?” Tony asked.
Briefly, Del described what had happened. “After that, as Miss Duncannon-”
“Please call me Deliah-it’s simpler, and we’re clearly all in this together.”
Del inclined his head. “As Deliah subsequently observed, given that the Cobra has demonstrated he definitely has her in his sights, it was too dangerous for her not to know what, precisely, was going on.” He met her gaze. “Incidentally, did you get any hint that there were others nearby-the man who shot at me, for instance?”
“No-it was just the two you saw. I don’t think there were any others close.”
“Can you describe both men? The rest of us barely saw the one who fled.”
She complied, painting a picture sufficiently detailed to have all three men frowning.
“It sounds very much as if the Black Cobra is hiring locals to assist him-specifically to act against us so that there’s no chance he or his lieutenants will be implicated.” Del’s gaze rested on Deliah. “You described the man who shot at me in Southampton-thinking of that now, I can’t be sure if he was Ferrar’s man Larkins, or a local hired to do the deed. If you saw him again, would you recognize him?”
“Definitely,” Deliah averred. “I looked directly at him, and there were only ten yards or so between us.”
And that, Del thought, very possibly explained the attack on her. Ferrar would also know that kidnapping her was a surefire way of pulling him into pursuit-pulling him away from his defined route, deflecting him from his mission.
“Given the current state of play”-he chose his words carefully-“you shouldn’t venture outside-anywhere in public-without at least one of us in close attendance.”
When he glanced at her, he was surprised by her ready nod. As if sensing his latent suspicion, she arched a brow. “After all you’ve told me, I have no wish to become a…guest of the Black Cobra.”
“No, indeed.” His expression stripped of all levity, Tony looked at Del. “I should mention that while Gasthorpe and his minions are desolate to have missed the pleasure of putting you up, they’re always delighted to play supporting roles in our little adventures. Consequently, they’re presently throwing themselves into watching the hotel and scouting out the surrounding streets for any hint of our pursuers.”