15

Delilah walked back to her room in a slightly slower gait than usual but that was to be expected because, even though she had regained the ability to walk on her own two feet, her ankle still hurt with a vengeance with each wrong move. She composed her face before she walked in knowing full well that any sign of discomfort would cause another bout of panic in Cecilia. With this reason firmly in her mind she breezed in her room with a smile and was startled to find Cecilia beaming back in a smug, satisfied cat like fashion.

"What have you done?" Delilah asked cautiously placing her books down carefully on the table.

"Cousin, I am now convinced you have a secret admirer," Cecilia giggled and pulled out a pot from behind her back. Inside the gold gilded pot was a plant with a small bud at the very end. Delilah barely needed a closer look to know the rose bud was blue. It did not take a genius to figure out who the sender was.

Delilah pursed her lips not sure how to explain anything to Cecilia so she did the next best thing and feigned ignorance like she had been doing for the last three days.

"You know I do not know why I'm being sent these gifts. It must be a case of mistaken identity," She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, tensely.

"At first I thought you were being sent flowers because you were hurt so publically. They seemed to be from people who witnessed that incident and wanted to wish you well but now I have been persuaded otherwise. They all seem to be from the same man. The repeated use of the same style of card is rather telling," Cecilia mused, absorbed by the mystery that lay before her. She pulled out a gold edged card that had been delicately perched on one thorny branch by the sender.

"How do you know this person is a man? It could easily be a female and besides how do you know that these flowers aren't for you?" Delilah sat down on a chair looking agitated. She regretted her swift movements because her foot twinged instantly.

"It's a he, of course. Look, this card smells like a man," Cecilia placed the card under Delilah's nose but her prey instantly pulled back with a look of disgust.

"How do you even know what a man smells like?" Delilah frowned, nose twitching.

"How could I not after being forced to twirl with each and every person asking for the pleasure of my company. I would be a fool if I didn't," Cecilia smirked, settling down next to her cousin, "And these are not for me. This person knows you too well. None of these flowers are culled; the lavenders were nicely trimmed, the pansies bright in their pots and now this rose. Each and every one of them came in their own pot knowing full well you'd throw a fit if someone gave you a murdered plant."

"It still does not prove anything," Delilah crossed her arms; looking the most petulant she had in years.

"Of course, it doesn't but I also know nobody is asking for my forgiveness. Every single present contains one tiny card and all it says is 'forgive me'. Lord Puddle might have stepped on my foot the whole time he danced with me but I doubt he needs to go to such great lengths to get me to forgive him. He is just one of those hundreds of men in this castle who is too arrogant to admit to a mistake," Cecilia wriggled her eyebrows as she continued, "And you paled when you saw that lavender bush the very first day. I know you did. You cannot fool me. I think you know who the mystery sender is."

Delilah looked away feeling incredibly bad humoured.

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"She is hiding something," Cecilia murmured to her friends as they swerved another group of over enthusiastic Ladies. The Palace was hosting a shopping bazaar especially for women and no one seemed to have missed the opportunity of obtaining new clothes and jewelry. One of the larger ground floor halls had been converted to into a shopping arena divided into stalls. There were new hats on sale, kid skin gloves, loose cloth and even some readymade gowns.

"You are too paranoid for your own good," Isabella shook her head shaking her curls in the process.

"So, someone is sending her flowers and she is showing signs of being upset," Mary shrugged, "Maybe they are from someone she does not like."

"Or maybe they're from someone she does like," Cecilia added with eyes still fixed on Delilah who was standing at a shop examining a silk scarf.

"That actually makes sense because I imagine she would be very upset if some handsome lord started clambering after her. She isn't too keen on socializing," Isabella thought out aloud.

"But that doesn't solve the problem of the 'forgive me' notes. There's more to the story," Prudence interjected.

"All we have to do is see who she is avoiding, then," Isabella nodded decisively, "She has to be if this somebody has to resort to using notes and flowers."

"She has been spending a lot of time in the library. I just thought she was injured so she wanted a quiet place to settle down but maybe she is actually avoiding someone," Cecilia wondered and then looked utterly horrified, "Oh no, she's eyeing that dreadful peach jersey. She looks dreadful in that colour. Get her away from it, now."

All four girls raced across the marble floor to slide next to Delilah. Cecilia promptly snatched the offending material and placed it back with a large smile at the perplexed shopkeeper. They marched Delilah away from the stall.

"I refuse to let you go near that colour," Cecilia commanded.

"It's perfectly acceptable looking," Delilah tried to argue but she resigned herself to being walked away. The five girls ended up at a lovely stall with many newly made gowns and embroidered pieces. Even Delilah could find no fault in their choice of shop.

"This is exquisite," Delilah murmured as she picked up a black lace material. Cecilia smiled, finally approving of her choice. They had only browsed for a few more minutes when the Mary began to fidget frantically.

"Hide me," Mary hissed suddenly clenching her hand into Prudence’s shoulder painfully, looking like a mouse caught in a trap, "My sister in law is coming this way."

Delilah looked up and indeed Lady Beatrix and a small group of her female friends were strolling right towards their stall. From the way their eyes were on them they it was clear they intended to make some kind of contact.

"And so is my sister," Prudence winced pulling the hand off her shoulder. Prudence was the most acerbic out of their lot of friends but she was soft as a dandelion compared to her sister and spent most of her time avoiding her. She had spent the first week trailing behind her sibling but had cut loose as soon as she had found support amongst Cecilia and her friends.

"Good Evening, Ladies," Lady Beatrix graced them with a red laced smile as she stood at the entrance of the stall and even Cecilia was dazzled by her charm and confidence at this proximity but the illusion was soon shattered.

"Good Evening," Delilah replied demurely, hiding her confusion, speaking for the rest of the girls. Mary stammered something intelligible and Beatrix gave her a careless wave of the hand.

"So this is where my sister lurks about. Her mother does fret so often that she rarely mingles with the fashionable ladies of the ball," Beatrix raised an eyebrow.

"I assure you, Mary is in good hands. Flaunting oneself in front of all and sundry is not the only way to be a successful debutant," Delilah answered with a calmness only blessed onto her.

"Successful debutant," Charity, Prudence's sister, snorted skeptically.

"Now, now, no need to be cruel. I am sure Lady Delilah here knows what she's doing. After all this has to be the second royal ball she has attended. Why on earth would she be a spinster chaperon if this was her first experience?" Beatrix commented and she looked highly satisfied to see her wild guess reach its destination. Before Delilah's sudden inability to form words could be fully felt Prudence mustered her courage to barge in.

"At least she still doesn’t run after the same man after being rejected by him unlike some people we know," Prudence alluded to Beatrix's marriage and the rumours that she would have married the Prince instead if she could have.

Beatrix narrowed her eyes in a way that made Mary shudder.

"In all this delightful chatter I seem to have forgotten that I am only the messenger here to convey an invitation to a private dinner amongst friends this evening. He will not take no for an answer," Beatrix belatedly added, arousing the curiosity of everyone around them.

"We accept," Isabella spoke abruptly knowing full well that Delilah was going to refuse and also knowing that refusal would mean defeat in this play of cat and mouse only women could understand.

"I don't believe I invited you," Beatrix paused and considered something, "Oh, very well. You four join in the merriment as well. My new mother can finally stop nagging me about introducing little Mary to a higher standard of people."

Delilah finally looked up after taking a deep long breath and met Beatrix's eyes who seemed to want to say so much more than they had.

"I do not know what he sees in you," Beatrix stated softly giving Delilah a long look of disapproval. Her loathing at Delilah's plain clothes was palpable.

"I do not know what you are talking about," Delilah replied and to her credit her voice only wavered minutely.

"Don't you? I don't believe you to be quite so dim witted regardless of how you appear," Beatrix smirked.

"Maybe I am as I look. I doubt you shall be disappointed," Delilah spoke brusquely, a foreign feeling of anger blossoming inside her.

"He has been like a besotted calf all around you. I doubt you cannot see his attempts to communicate with you after all you seem to be rejecting them quite deftly."

"I have repulsed no one's attempts at communicating with me. Whoever wants to talk can approach me without using such indirect means," Delilah replied truthfully.

"That is indeed what he shall be doing tonight," Beatrix raised her nose in the hair looking she could smell something horrid, "Though why, I shall never understand."

Beatrix handed her an enveloped card containing the invitation. She tilted her head as a way of farewell and sauntered away with her admirers trailing behind her. Delilah stared at her retreating back until the crowd melded and melted like a pool of water and hid them in its depth.

"The nerve of that woman," Cecilia looked like she was on the verge of stamping her foot like a five year old. She clenched her fists, creasing her satin gloves looking like her self control was hanging by the barest of threads.

"Ridiculous," Prudence sounded angry with them and probably herself for not taking the opportunity to destroy her opponents verbally.

"What was she talking about?" Mary hissed, embarrassed that her brother was married to someone so alarmingly offensive to her friends.

Delilah stood in the middle looking lost and troubled. She suddenly looked up, thrust the invitation in Cecilia's hand and started to walk away.

"I know you're angry but we couldn't let that woman plow us over," Cecilia pleaded trying to make amends, the anger replaced instantly by guilt and worry.

"I'm not angry, actually. I think I need to be at the party. I might actually get some relief from this incessant badgering," Delilah added under her breath as she turned to look at her friends, "I need a bit of fresh air to clear my head. It's not every day one gets accosted by such high bred ladies."

She smiled tensely and walked off eyeing the exit to the room. Her friends looked at each other with curious eyes.

"I told you the story was more complex than it looked," Prudence lectured.

"It is," Cecilia looked saddened, "I would ask her about it but I don't think it will be kind to annoy her so after what we've forced her to put up with. I don't think she was too inclined to accept the invitation."

"At least we shall be closer to the truth tonight since we managed to get ourselves invited," Isabella laughed as she remembered her faux pas.

"Did you see how she looked at your cousin? Like she was beneath her," Prudence muttered nastily, smoothening her yellow coloured frock.

"She always looks at me like that," Mary spoke morosely and Isabella patted her on her shoulder.

"Well, not tonight," Cecilia answered decisively. All four girls smiled at each with steely determination.

"Does she have something suitable in her wardrobe? I only see those wretched grim coloured matronly things," Prudence asked with a mock shudder.

"She has some beautiful dresses hidden inside her cupboard. She used to wear so many of them back home before….," Cecilia trailed off trying to remember the exact moment Delilah chose to go into that shell of hers, "When I was a child I used to think Delilah was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and now after I have been at this ball and met so many important people I still think she is the most beautiful."

"Well, it's time the whole world sees it," Isabella smirked clapping her hands together.

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"Cecilia, what have you been doing in my wardrobe?" Delilah announced, speaking for the first time since she returned to their rooms.

"What is it that you mean?" Cecilia blinked her bright, green eyes like a lost lamb. Delilah read through her antics very quickly.

"It looks like a gust of wind went through it and that could mean only one thing," Delilah stated with a raised eyebrow.