Free The Untamed Bride by Stephanie Laurens Page B

refused to stop at the larger Pelican Hotel. “There’s so many of us to accommodate—they’re more likely to have room.”
    “The Pelican is largely timber and lathe.”
    “So?”
    “I have an unreasoning fear of waking to a house in flames.” The Black Cobra’s men had been known to use fire to flush out those they were chasing, without the slightest thought for any others who might get caught in the ensuing blaze. Climbing out of the carriage in the yard of the Swan, Del considered the inn, then turned to hand his burden down. “The Swan, however, is built of stone.”
    Taking his hand, she stepped down, paused to look at the inn, then, expressionless, looked at him. “Stone walls in winter.”
    He glanced up at the roof, to where multiple chimneys chuffed smoke. “Fires.”
    She sniffed, lifted her skirts, climbed the steps to the porch and led the way through the door the innkeeper was holding wide, bobbing and bowing as they passed.
    Before Del could take charge, she did, sweeping to the inn’s counter and stripping off her gloves. “Good evening.” The innkeeper scurried around the counter to attend her. “We need rooms for us all—one large chamber for me, another for the colonel, four smaller rooms for my staff and two more for his staff, and the colonel’s parlor maid can room with my lady’s maid—that’s wiser, I think. Now, we’ll all want dinner—I know it’s late, but—”
    Del halted just behind her—she knew he was there—and listened to her rattle off orders, directions and instructions, more or less without pause. He could have stepped in and taken over—he’d intended to—but as she was making such an excellent fist of organizing their combined party, there seemed little point.
    By the time the luggage had been unloaded and ferried inside, the innkeeper had sorted out their rooms, arrangedfor a private parlor to be prepared for them, and sent orders to the kitchen for their meals. Del stood back and watched a round-eyed maid lead his charge upstairs to her chamber, then he turned to the innkeeper. “I need to hire two more carriages.”
    “Of course, sir. Dreadfully cold already, and they say there’s worse to come. I don’t have any carriages free myself, but I know the stableman at the Pelican—he’ll oblige me, and I’m sure he’ll have two he can let you have.”
    Del raised his eyes to the top of the stairs—and met Miss Duncannon’s direct green gaze. She said nothing, however, but with a faint lift of her brows, continued on into the gallery. “Thank you.” Returning his gaze to the innkeeper, he arranged for the members of his household and hers to be given whatever they wished from the tap, then left the now deserted foyer to climb the stairs to his room.
     
    Half an hour later, washed and brushed, he was in the private parlor when Miss Duncannon entered. Two maids had just finished setting a small table for two before the fire; they retreated with bobbed curtsies. Del strolled to hold a chair for his charge.
    She’d removed her pelisse, revealing a garnet-red gown trimmed with silk ribbon of the same hue, over which she’d draped a finely patterned silk shawl.
    Sitting, she inclined her head. “Thank you, Colonel.”
    Strolling to his chair on the other side of the table, Del murmured, “Del.” When she raised her brows, he explained, “Most people I know call me Del.”
    “I see.” She considered him as he sat and shook out his napkin. “As we’re apparently to be in each other’s company for some time, it would be appropriate, I suppose, to make you free of my name. It’s Deliah— not Delilah. Deliah.”
    He smiled, inclined his head. “Deliah.”
    Deliah struggled not to stare, struggled to keep her suddenly witless mind functioning. That was the first time he’d smiled at her—and she definitely didn’t need the additionaldistraction. He was ridiculously handsome when serious and sober; when his lips softened and curved, he was