Delia had always been the sort to prefer fire to water, so staring down at the canal rushing under the chinese house became dull very quickly, especially since it would not be deep enough to drown that ginger slut. People watching held more appeal, but only slightly. There was nothing worth watching, which she found terribly odd as all classes of London society were in the gardens, even the lowest classes that could afford to get in were on their best behavior. She was terribly disappointed by the whole thing, but at least she was out of the house, away from her father and Viv, who were probably doing unspeakable things to each other in his office as they were so fond of doing.
That mental picture was enough to make her ill.
Looking up from the water she glanced over the banks, hoping that she had been mistaken in her earlier thoughts of there being nothing to see. Blue eyes scanning drown the row of chairs, they suddenly stopped on a certain Spaniard. If judging by the ball and her current mood, she was sure the man only appeared when she was having murderous thoughts about Viv. Mildly amused by the thought of him not belonging in a place like this, she kept her eyes on him, smirking a bit when a bunch of 'powder-puffs' as she called them, walked away from him indignantly. He must not have given them even the slightest acknowledgment, what a bright Spaniard.