Free Miss Delacourt Has Her Day by Heidi Ashworth

the morning sun to wait, knowing he would eventually find her. Wherever she was, wherever she might go, he would never fail to find her.
    Why the devil could he not find her? He had searched the breakfast room, the morning room, the parlor, and even Grandmama’s study. He was about to start opening bedchamber doors willy-nilly, but was stopped in his tracks by the sight of a green ribbon on the hall table. It was his favorite color for Ginny to wear, much greener than her eyes but just the thing to coax the emerald sparkle out of her mostly gray orbs. Pocketing the ribbon, he resolved to buy her yards and yards of the stuff-if only he could find her!

    He headed up the stairs to the third floor and opened the first door he came to. The room that lay beyond was furnished in dark wood, and blue velvet hangings adorned the bed. He realized with a start that it was the room he had been given for his use on those few occasions he had stayed with Grandmama since she had taken up residence at Wembley House after his grandfather’s death. Only once had he stayed overnight when Ginny had also been in London, yet he had no solid memory of her at that time. It seemed strange that she had slept in a room just down the hall, had sat at breakfast across the table from him, and he, all the while, was without the slightest inkling of how deeply in love with her he would one day be.
    True, at the time, he and Ginny had moved in very different circles. She, preferring books and flowers to the company of Society, had all but given up moving around in her delegated circle, while he had simply moved around and around in his, getting nowhere at all whatsoever.
    He drifted to the window. There must have been times when she was hiding out in the garden, wishing him at Jericho, while he was in the house busy with his own activities, too intent on nursing the paltry wound Lady Derby’s betrayal had done to his pride to notice how Ginny had blossomed into a beautiful, intelligent woman. It had happened right before his very eyes, but he never saw it until one fateful day a fortnight-and a lifetime-ago.
    Suddenly he saw her sunning herself on a bench in the garden, her feet curled up in the hem of her gown. Her hair, he noticed, was lacking adornment of any kind and hung down about her shoulders in scandalous disarray. She was gazing off into the distance, an air of patient waiting stamped upon her features. She looked for all the world like something out of a fairy tale, one in which the prince has been long delayed with the slaying of dragons while the beautiful and virtuous milkmaid remains steadfast and faithful that he will save the day and return to her side.

    If only he hadn’t been so caught up in the ways of Society, he might have come to her much sooner.
    She looked up then and saw him. The smile that lit her face made his breath catch in his throat. He was torn between standing there to drink in that smile forever and climbing out the window to take her instantly into his arms.
    “We are on the third floor, you buffle-headed fool!”
    Anthony whirled to face the door. “Grandmama! How did…”
    “You talk to yourself. Out loud. I daresay your valet has mentioned it to you once or twice. He finds it disconcerting in the extreme, but it has its advantages,” she said with a nod at the window. “Now, go and tell her what you have come to say, but use the stairs! I won’t have you breaking your head open on my property. I would much prefer you make that your mother’s problem, should push come to shove”
    Anthony felt an icy finger make its way down the length of his spine. “My mother? Has she been here already?”
    “At the crack of dawn, riding her broomstick.”
    Anthony groaned. “That is all that is needed! How did Ginny fare? Is she terribly upset?”
    “She didn’t throw anything, if that is what you are wondering” She sighed and sank onto the bed, looking suddenly every day of her age. “Anthony, matters are much