Just her, being there.
Just her, in his arms.
Just her lips against his and her body surrendered.
Her commitment. To simply being there.
For him.
Deliah couldn’t mistake the tenor of his kiss, the truth, the simple honesty, the directness. As if barriers had fallen, as if he’d set some shield aside, she felt immeasurably closer, more linked.
More a part of him.
Sensed that he would be-wanted to be-more a part of her.
Myriad images whirled through her mind. The faint color in Patience’s cheeks as she’d left the conservatory, the glint of something in Catriona’s fine eyes-and the devilish look in her husband’s-when they’d finally congregated on the floor below…was this what they’d been doing?
And was that what she and Del were doing now?
Simply being together, a couple together, acknowledging what lay between them…
Admitting what lay between them.
Yes, that was it.
She knew it was unwise, but as his lips moved on hers, as his tongue caressed hers, she sank into the kiss, sank her hands into his hair and gave herself over to it. Gave herself up to it. Surrendered.
To the simple communion of two people who shared.
The caress stretched, warm, real. They’d reached some plateau-of reality, of understanding-and lingered there for some time, long enough to feel settled, before, with obvious reluctance, he drew back.
It was with real regret that she relinquished his lips and, with a sigh, returned to the mundane world.
Opening her eyes, she looked into his. Dark, rich, inexpressibly warm, his gaze held her.
Told her. Spoke to her. Reminded her of all they’d just shared.
He’d meant it, she realized. Meant her to see, to sense, to know. To experience and understand how he felt for her.
Her heart swelled with the knowledge that she felt the same for him.
For long moments, they stood locked in each other’s gaze, communing silently as they had through the kiss.
A noise-a stealthy shuffle of leather on wood-had her blinking.
Had Del frowning. Raising a finger, he laid it across his lips, then hers.
She nodded. They remained as they were, unmoving and silent. Earlier, locked in the kiss, they must have been all but soundless and motionless for minutes-five, or even more. Long enough for someone hidden to have assumed they’d gone.
But where the devil was he?
Slowly, she turned her head, visually searched one side of the room while Del did the same for the other.
She didn’t immediately see it, not even when another slight sound reached her ears. But the sound fixed her attention on the window…on the window seat.
Del had turned, too. He studied the seat, then glanced at her.
They exchanged a look, then he nodded.
His arms fell from her. Together they turned and silently crept across the floor to the window.
It was a bay window. Without touching anything, she peered around and out, looking through the side panel along the wall of the house. She saw the window of the next bedchamber along-another bay. It would be identical to the window they were studying, and it told her what she needed to know.
Groping blindly, she grasped Del’s sleeve, tugged. Glancing at him, she pointed out of the side window, then silently stepped back.
He looked, saw, but when he turned back to her, incomprehension lit his eyes.
With her hands, she sketched in the air what he’d seen-the protrusion of the bay beyond the wall. It didn’t stop at the bottom of the window, as some bays did, nor did it stop at the level of the window seat. The built-out section continued to floor level, including the area between the seat and the floor.
There was a cavity of some kind beneath the seat.
Understanding dawned; Del pointed below the seat, and she nodded.
Carefully, they lifted the cushions off the wooden seat. Del felt with his fingers, and located the hinges set in the wooden top near the wall.
He glanced at her, and reached for the edge of the window seat.
She did the same, grasping the wooden edge.
She drew breath, then together they swung the seat back.
And looked down into a shadowed box, and a pair of stunned dark eyes.
“Aii-yii!” Sangay let out a wail, struggled to his feet, and tried to leap from the box.
Del caught him, initially by the collar, but when Sangay, head down, flailed at him, he grabbed one thin arm, then the other, swung Sangay around and, pinning his arms to his body, hoisted him out of the window seat and stood him on his feet on the floor.
Trapped with his back to Del, Sangay wriggled, squirmed, then tried to kick.
“Sangay!” Deliah loaded the word with command, and was relieved when the boy slowed his struggles to glance at her. “Stop it. You’ll only hurt yourself. The colonel doesn’t want to hurt you-no one will hurt you if you’ll just stand still.”
Eyes huge, he stared at her, sniffed.
Then his face crumpled. “Oh, no, miss-you don’t understand. The man-the evil sahib-he will hurt my maataa if I don’t-” He caught his breath on a giant sob. “If I don’t, he will…”
Overcome, Sangay opened his mouth to wail again.
“No, he won’t.” Releasing Sangay’s arms, Del dropped a hand on his bony shoulder, gripped firmly. “The evil-sahibs won’t be able to hurt your maataa, Sangay.”
Very slowly, Sangay turned his head to look up at Del. The dawning, all but disbelieving hope in his eyes was painful to see. “They won’t?”
Del shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll be able to. But to be sure, you’ll need to tell us your tale-where you come from, and how you came to be working for the evil-sahibs.”
Sangay swallowed, his eyes locked on Del’s face. “Only one, colonel-sahib. I have seen only one evil-sahib.”
Del nodded solemnly. “I see.”
“I didn’t want to be working for him,” Sangay replied, equally solemn.
“We know that, Sangay,” Deliah said. “He told you that he’d hurt your mother if you didn’t bring him the colonel’s scroll-holder. Is that right?”
Sangay, all round eyes, nodded. “Yes, miss. That is it exactly.”
“Where were you when the evil-sahib found you?” she asked.
“I was in London, at the East India Docks. My captain-I was on a ship from India, you understand. First cabin boy, I was, until…” Sangay blinked. “My captain sent me to fetch him some tobacco from the shop near the docks. The evil-sahib saw me. He took hold of me and dragged me aside, into an alley. He told me his men had my maataa and she would die a terrible death if I didn’t do what he wanted.”
Eyes like bruised brown pansies, Sangay shrugged. “So I had to go with him, and he took me in a coach to some other town with ships-then he sent me into the inn where you were staying to find the scroll-holder.” Sangay paused, then went on, “Then there was the pistol shot, and then there was the panic, and because I had to search the luggage Cobby put in the carriage, I went with it.” He looked up at Deliah, then Del. “With you.”
Sangay studied Del’s face, then swallowed. In a small voice, he asked, “If I tell you all I know of the evil-sahib, will you let me go, and let me give to the sahib this scroll-holder so he will not kill my maataa?” He shifted, looked down, straightened the sleeve of the page’s coat he wore. “I know you don’t think he will be able to do that last, but how can you be sure? And”-dragging in a deep breath, Sangay looked up again, into Del’s face-“you see, I must be sure.”
Del looked down into the boy’s big eyes, read the tortured uncertainty that held him. Crouching down so his eyes were level with Sangay’s, he said, “We’re going to find a way to keep you safe, and also to ensure-make absolutely sure-that your maataa is safe, too. I don’t know at this stage exactly how we’ll do it, but we’ll make a good plan, and we’ll make sure.” Del searched Sangay’s dark eyes, then added, “I’m thinking that killing the evil-sahib would be a good first step. What do you think?”