Vanquished

That night,after they had arrived at St. James Park, Delilah thought she would walk about the grounds with her father, but he quickly became engaged in conversation with a fellow horse enthusiast, so he urged her to walk about on her own.

She passed by vendors hawking their wares, selling everything from food stalls, to pottery, jewelry, and brightly colored scarves. There were even printed sheets to commemorate the special occasion. Performers were engaging the audience with various acrobatic stunts while bands were set up to play, some of which were even taking advantage of the entertainment to dance. Men were walking about dressed in naval uniforms and mock canon battles were taking place among the grounds, with cheers and applause commonplace everywhere that she went. Lanterns were being lit and floated along the night sky like sparkling diamonds to rival the stars and the hot air balloons that had taken flight.

There was a large Temple of Concord to celebrate England’s victory in battle and every now and then a showering display of vibrant fireworks were set off.

It was truly a magical celebration like nothing Delilah had ever seen before, and she had to admit she was glad her father had convinced her to stay and enjoy the scene. She just wished he was there with her to remark upon certain things, so that they might have something to remember together.

As Delilah grew closer to the Chinese bridge, she gasped when she saw the towering, wooden pagoda standing tall and erect over the assemblage, boasting several pyramids. Boats were sailing nearby and were enjoying the magnificent sight, lit up with numerous gas lamps.

She paused on the bank and crossed her arms as a faint smile touched her lips. While she would worry about her bruised heart tomorrow, tonight she intended to enjoy this remarkable gift and be thankful that she was able to witness it.

“Have ye ever been kissed, lass?”

Delilah’s breath caught when that familiar, Irish drawl flowed over her skin. Gooseflesh instantly broke out over her arms, but she adopted a neutral expression as she turned to her left to see Conor standing beside her. She didn’t know how he’d managed to sneak up on her so effortlessly, but she decided it was just another one of his many charms. He looked resplendent in a pair of black trousers, jacket, waistcoat, and boots, a plain white shirt and cravat.

Recalling the question, the same one he’d asked her the first day they’d met such a short time ago, and yet, what now seemed like ages, she replied, “As a matter of fact, I have, although I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Oh?” His green eyes were illuminated by the lamplight and caused her heart to ache that much more. “And why is that?”

She smiled sadly. “I’ve found it can be rather painful when there isn’t any emotion behind it.”

“No emotion?” He seemed to mull this over, and then he shook his head. “I’m afraid I would have to highly disagree with ye.”

“Would you?” she snorted. “I doubt that very much.” She hugged herself more tightly. What was he doing here except to torture her further? Hadn’t he already done enough?

Hurt her enough?

“Then how might ye explain this?” She reluctantly glanced at him to see that he was holding the strip of her black and white checkered gingham dress that she’d torn off in a desperate attempt to warn the racers. He lifted the fabric to his nose and closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply. “Certain objects can be a funny thing. Take this piece of cloth, for example. Something as simple as this can spark a memory, a feeling.”

Delilah’s heart threatened to leap out of her chest, but she wasn’t about to be tricked by his flattery again. “Indeed? And what might you be feeling? Resentment? Anger, perhaps?” she mocked.

He looked directly at her as he slowly lowered the fabric. “Love.”

The sky was abruptly illuminated with a shower of fireworks, but while they might have been beautiful, she only had eyes for him. “What did you say?” she breathed.

“Delilah, I—”

A sudden, sharp scream pierced the night air. It was the only warning Delilah had as a deafening explosion came from behind her.

“Get down!” Conor shouted and threw himself on top of her, shielding her body as the pagoda suddenly burst into flames. Between the heat from the fire and the sound of crackling wood that was blistering apart, Delilah saw the chariot in her mind, watched as it broke into pieces.

She covered her ears with her hands and shut her eyes tightly as she was suddenly yanked to her feet. “Run!” She heard Conor yell, but she couldn’t seem to make her feet obey the command. She was suddenly frozen in fear.

And then she was flying.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she realized that Conor had thrown her over his shoulder and was rushing away from the blazing inferno of the pagoda. What had once stood so strong and tall was now becoming a crumbling rubble. People were still shouting and scrambling to get away from the deadly blaze.

Once again, the festivities had come to an abrupt end.

After they were a safe distance away from the fire, Conor stopped and set Delilah back on her feet. “Are ye hurt?” he asked, his eyes wide and concerned.

She managed to shake her head, noting that her hair had fallen out of its pins and hung around her shoulders as she shivered. It was relatively warm that evening, but her tremors had nothing to do with the temperature of the air.

Nevertheless, he took off his coat and laid it over her shoulders and proceeded to rub her arms through the fabric.

“I thought it was you.” Conor stilled and looked at her. Rather than allowing herself to be intimidated, she went on. “At the race, I ran onto the track and risked my own life because I thought you had been injured.”

His gaze softened. “Aye. I figured that was the case.”

Her eyes filled with shameless tears. She no longer cared if he rejected her. She couldn’t hold back any longer. It was her last chance to tell him how she felt. “I love you, Conor.” She sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but—”

She was cut off by his fingers on her chin, as he kissed her tenderly. “I love ye too, lass.”

This time a drop of moisture dared to trail its way down her cheek. “What?”

He smiled. “I was about to pour my ever-loving heart out to ye when the pagoda caught flame. I’m rather upset that it ruined my grand gesture. I had it all planned. We were going to take a boat ride together and I was going to ask ye to marry me under the stars.”

“You were?” she whispered.

“Aye. I even made sure to ask yer father’s permission beforehand. I told him to get ye here and I would take care of the rest.”

Her mouth went slack. “My father was party to this?”

“See for yourself.” He gestured over her shoulder, and she turned to see her father was indeed, standing a short distance away, but when he caught her eye, he smiled and then continued on his way.

Delilah laughed.

“Ah, lass. What a lovely sound that is.”

She turned back to Conor and allowed all the love she felt for him to shine through her eyes. “I’m glad you like it, for you will have to get used to it for a long time.”

“Aye. I’m counting on it.” He bent his head and kissed her long and deeply.

When he pulled back, Delilah tilted her head and asked sincerely, “What made you change your mind about taking a risk on being hurt again?”

He ran his fingers lightly down the side of her cheek. “That’s easy, lass. I realized I didn’t have to prove anything to myself anymore, because all of my fears and doubts had already been vanquished by ye.”