Read Palace Circle for Free Online Page B

if he did she might, in a little while, even turn to him for comfort.
    With any other woman—especially a woman so overwhelmingly desirable—it was a ploy he wouldn't have thought twice about using. Delia, however, was different. In the short time they had known each other she had become a friend and, unscrupulous as he was about many things, he was always punctiliously truthful to his friends.
    “No,” he said. “I'm unfaithful to Sylvia because being unfaithful is in my nature. I'm sorry if I disappoint you, Delia.”
    She shook her head to show that it didn't matter to her; only Ivor mattered to her. Ivor, whom she suddenly felt she didn't know at all.
    Jerome changed gear. “Would you like me to take you somewhere so you can get your thoughts in order before going home? We could drive out to Hampstead if you'd like?”
    She shook her head. “No. I want to be in the house when Ivor arrives. I want him to explain about the photograph to me—and I want him to tell me that I need never spend time with Sylvia again after she presents me.”
    They were driving down Park Lane, Hyde Park dark and mysterious on their right side.
    He frowned, his face grim. He had thought that she understood—and he now knew that she understood barely anything. He said unhappily, “If you need me, you've only to telephone my club, the Carlton, and leave a message for me there.”
    “Thank you—and thank you for bringing me home,” she said, as he turned into Cadogan Square. “And don't worry about me, Jerome. You once told me that marital fidelity wasn't a virtue highly esteemed among the British aristocracy, but my marriage is far different. Whatever the situation that existed in the aftermath of Olivia's death, it isn't one that will continue. Ivor loves me now and he will be as faithful to me as I will to him.”
    He brought the car to an abrupt halt, knowing that he should say something.
    With the breath hurting in his chest he walked around the car and helped her step from it.
    She squeezed his hand tightly and then, before he could speak, ran across the pavement and up the steps.
    If Bellingham and Ellie and the rest of the servants were intrigued seeing her arrive home without Ivor they gave no indication. Bellingham was as imperturbable as ever and when Ellie removed the white rose from her hair and unpinned her chignon, she did so swiftly and silently.
    Later, when Ellie had left her, Delia seated herself at her dressing table and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The face looking back at her was not the face of the carefree young girl who had left the house three hours ago.
    White lines of tension edged her mouth. She had told Jerome that whatever the situation that had existed between Ivor and Sylvia after Olivia's death, it was one that existed no longer, but as she remembered the expression in Sylvia's voice, fear flickered in her chest.
    Sylvia's demeanor had not been that of a woman whose lover had fallen in love elsewhere. Her expression was one of a woman whose lover's marriage was of no consequence whatsoever.
    It would, though, be of consequence to Ivor. Of that she was sure.
    She looked toward the small clock that stood on her dressing table. It was now an hour since Jerome had escorted her home and with luck he had already told Sylvia that no matter what her expectations to the contrary, her affair with Ivor was over.
    Fraught with tension Delia began brushing her hair hard. Then, from the street, she heard the sound of a car door closing. She held her breath, the hairbrush motionless in midair. Moments later the front door opened.
    Slowly she laid the brush down.
    There was a sound of muted male voices, though whether Ivor was speaking to Bellingham or to his valet she couldn't tell. She heard his tread on the broad sweeping staircase.
    She remained where she was sitting.
    The door opened and their eyes met in the mirror.
    He smiled and closed the door behind him. “I take it you've recovered from your