The gala would have been wonderful if she had been allowed to attend. She watched from the front room of the Duke Haskett’s mansion as the guests paraded up the stairs, each more elegantly dressed than the last, laughing, smiling, and ready for a long night of drinking, socializing, and dancing.

Kitty could hear the cheer outside the door to the front room, wondering if she got closer to the door whether she would be able to make out the conversations taking place. But then she would not be able to see them marching in.

Everything looked so luxurious, so exciting, so beautiful. She should be out there, or, better yet, already in the ball room, wearing her sapphire blue dress, spinning and dancing until she was giddy with joy.

Instead, dressed fairly plainly, Kitty sat holding a book in the front room, trying to eavesdrop on the guests as they arrived. She would not be able to listen in once everyone was there. The dancing was taking place at the other side of the vast mansion, and she could barely hear the music.

But people had been arriving for the past hour, and already the crowd was thinning and slowing. Soon everyone would be dancing in the ball room and she would just have to sit in the front room and read a book, like a child waiting to be sent to bed.

As the last coach pulled away and the last beautiful dress waved in the breeze and disappeared through the front door, Kitty curled up tighter in her window seat and finally opened her book.

Before she could even begin reading, the door opened with a slam, startling her.

A young woman walked in, sighing in exhaustion. She turned to the left and arranged her hair in the mirror, before inspecting her face, her jewels, and the fit of her dress. She was oblivious to the fact that she was not alone, so Kitty picked her book back up and began reading it quietly, as though she also had not noticed the other woman.

Nevertheless, she watched over the edge of her book as this beautiful young woman, with a crowded arrangement of silky, shiny, thick black hair, mellow blue eyes, and a sensual gait, preened herself in front of the mirror.

As Kitty turned the page, an abandoned book mark slid out and landed on the floor with a whisper. It was loud enough. The lady turned around and scanned the room.

Then her eyes landed on Kitty. “I beg your pardon, I did not see you there,” she said with a nervous chuckle.

Kitty shook her head. “It is quite alright, I was absorbed in my book. I am Kitty Langley,” she said.

“I am Delilah, Delilah Sinclair,” the woman replied.

Sinclair... Kitty knew that name from somewhere, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was something important, and yet as soon as she felt she was about to recall it, it slipped her mind.

Delilah had returned to her reflection and was aligning her necklace so that the clasp was once again behind her neck.

“Why are you not dancing? At first, I thought you were a member of staff, you are dressed so plainly, but your clothes look far too expensive,” Delilah observed, walking over to the fire place, sitting down before it, and slipping her feet out of her slippers.

Kitty was surprised she could tell from that distance. “I am the daughter of Baron Langley,” she replied. “But I am not allowed to attend the gala.”

“Oh, I see. Are you still a little young?” Delilah asked, placing her bare feet on a little footrest and sighing in relief. “I didn't take you for a child.”

“Not at all. I was going to be there, but I had an argument with my father, and it is my punishment to not attend the gala,” Kitty replied.

“That must have been a serious matter,” Delilah said, finally leaning back in her chair, looking into the fire.

“It was,” Kitty replied. “He had invited a Duke round for dinner, and was hoping that the young man would show some interest in me. But I accidentally mentioned my condition, and he would not have left faster if he had a pack of wolves chasing him.” She laughed nervously. “That happens a lot, though.”

“A condition, eh?” Delilah asked. “I understand that. My own father suffered from chronic stomach and chest pains. The doctors said he had a growth inside him which could not be removed. These things do get in the way of your life, and the life of your family. Not everyone is prepared for that.”

Kitty shrugged. “That is just it, there is nothing to be prepared for. I am managing my condition myself. I do not need a husband to care for me like some invalid. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. But my father does not believe so, and insists on my getting all sorts of treatment. Which, naturally, means all my suitors need to find out about the treatment, and that puts them off.”

“So you are not seriously ailing, or dying?” Delilah asked a little flippantly.

“Nothing so serious, although my father seems to believe I am at constant risk of coming to harm,” Kitty replied. “I can hardly believe that the man who spends half his life talking about how ill and frail I am has punished me for even mentioning my illness.”

“I suppose it is not an easy thing for him to manage. On the one hand he needs to defend you, but on the other he wants to make sure you marry the right man,” Delilah replied. “All fathers are a bit like that.”

Kitty pursed her lips. “I suppose so. But my father has a justification for acting this way.”

“And your mother?” Delilah asked.

“She passed away when I was a little girl. I think my father is more protective because of it,” Kitty explained.

“It must be difficult,” Delilah said, nodding. “But I am sure that you persevere.”

Kitty felt her heart warm a little towards Delilah. “I do my best. It's easier now I'm not quite as ill as I used to be. I used to be such a sickly child. My father doting over me was just what I needed back then. But now I am a grown woman. Sometimes... sometimes it feels as though my condition has moved from being a physical burden to being an emotional one.”

“How so?” Delilah asked.

“I used to hurt, and my joints were stiff all the time. But lately I only have the odd bad day. Most of the time I am no less capable than any other girl my age. And now I must pretend to still be ill, and go along with my father's beliefs, which is ruining my marriage prospects. If I were to act as well as I feel, my father would be saddened by the fact that he does not need to care for me.” Kitty sighed and sank back further into the window seat.

It was odd to talk to a stranger about this, but she felt better for talking to this wonderful young lady. She noticed that although there was a ring mark on her finger, there was no ring.

“Tell me a bit about you, seeing as you know my life story now,” Kitty said. “Are you married?”

Delilah pursed her lips. “I am not.” Then, she fell silent.

Kitty paused, waiting for Delilah to add something else. Especially considering the little white line left behind from wearing a wedding ring many years. But she said nothing.

“Are you engaged yet?” Delilah asked suddenly, before Kitty could say anything else. “You look about the right age.”

“Like I said, my father manages to scare all my suitors away. Or, well, I did so this time. But generally it is him,” she replied. “I don't think any one of them stayed for long enough to get to know me as a person.”

“Oh,” Delilah said, sounding a little disappointed. “I would have thought that, what with you being so pretty, at least one would have given you enough time to prove yourself. I have trouble believing that all young men would be so superficial.”

“Alas, it seems that they are,” Kitty replied.

“You will find the right man eventually,” Delilah said with conviction. “There is no doubt plenty of men out there who would give their right arm to be married to someone as lovely as you.”

Kitty laughed nervously. “No young man would have me, not as I am now. Between my treatments and my father's exaggeration of my illness, none have been brave enough to stay.”

“And why would you want to settle for the sort of man who runs for the hills when he faces even the smallest challenge? If you ask me, your circumstances are a blessing, as they will drive away all but the most serious of suitors,” Delilah mused.

“And what if nobody is serious?” Kitty asked.

“Then would you not rather be a spinster, than married to a coward? I know I would,” Delilah replied with a smirk.

Kitty just sighed.

“But that is beside the point. The right man will come along, you'll see,” Delilah insisted. “And he shall be everything you ever dreamed of and more.”

Kitty smiled. Delilah was such a wonderful person. How could she be so warm, so kind, so encouraging to someone she had only just met? Although they had barely been talking half an hour, Kitty felt a strong affinity for Delilah, as though she were discovering a sister she had never had.

“Thank you for being so kind to me,” Kitty said softly.

“Not at all, I am just telling you the truth. Sometimes we cannot see the truth since our emotions get in the way of our senses, hiding things that are in plain sight. So, like a blind person, we need to have the truth described to us, so that we will recognize it,” Delilah explained.

“So you truly believe one day my prince will come?” Kitty replied with a laugh.

“I do, I honestly do,” Delilah said.

“I just wish he would hurry up. Or I shall be a hundred on my wedding day,” Kitty replied.

“But perhaps then you would both be so old that your ailment will be of no concern to him,” Delilah said. “I am sorry,” she added hastily, “that was in poor taste.”

Kitty laughed. “No, it is also true. Perhaps when I am not so young I can find a man who understands me. Or perhaps, if I look after myself well, I shall soon be considered in excellent health for my age.”

Delilah laughed too now. “Perhaps so. You just wait and see. He will find you.”

A head of shiny blonde hair stuck in through the door. “Delilah, come back to the dance. Duchess Haskett is asking after you.”

Delilah nodded and the blonde head lingered in the doorway, beckoning excitedly with a lily-white arm. “I must go,” Delilah said, turning to Kitty. “I've had a chance to rest my feet and made a friend. I hope I shall see you again soon.”

“I also hope we shall meet again soon,” Kitty replied, watching as Delilah slipped her perfect little feet into her slippers and all but floated out the door.

She was so in awe of Delilah's grace and beauty that she did not pick up her book again until the door had clicked softly shut.