A Guardians Angel (13 page)

“Bothersome? I did not know that you had met Lord Harrington.”

“Once. When I went to tell Thomas that he must return here posthaste.” She frowned. “I do not understand why Rodney acquiesced to Thomas’s demands that we pay Lord Harrington a visit.”

“This call upon Lord Harrington will be excellent practice for you.”

“In making calls on folks I cannot tolerate?”

“Leonia!”

The young woman sighed and flounced back toward the stairs. “Why must I call there when I truly want to visit Mrs. Raleigh and her daughters? They have recently arrived from Town, and I am sure that they must have the latest copies of
Ackerman’s Repository.
”

“The fashion-plates will be waiting when we look in on them next week. By then, you will have had this chance to use your new skills at Harrington Grange.”

“I called upon them in India many times.”

“But this is not India.”

“I believe I noticed that.”

Angela sighed. Leonia was being as petulant as Thomas today. “You must understand that while Mrs. Raleigh might condone a
faux pas
or two because you are so newly arrived from the East, the rest of the Polite World will be less forgiving. Before you give anyone beyond your closest neighbors a look-in, you must be well-versed in all the nuances of making a call.”

Leonia grumbled, “But Consuelo Raleigh will have chosen all the best designs by then and will have requested her
modiste
to make them. If I want something that is not just like hers, I shall have only the leftovers.”

“I doubt Mrs. Raleigh will grant her leave to order every gown she wants.”

“But if we go to Harrington Grange, we shall have to listen to Thomas and the viscount’s bibble-babble about butterflies.”

Angela smiled. “And that will provide you with an excellent lesson to prepare you for your entry into the
ton
. Not every conversation you will be part of during the Season will be scintillating and interesting, but, as a guest, you must not reveal that.” She patted Leonia’s shoulder. “The cart is waiting. Please get your sister and brothers. Then we can go.”

“If you wish …”

Angela was glad that Leonia’s eyes remained downcast, because her own must be glittering with the anticipation of talking with Justin again. The mercurial man might today be a jesting fool or the man who spoke with such fervor of his hobby of chasing butterflies across the moor. Or he might be the beguiling man who had swept all thoughts from her head with his ardent kisses. Whatever he was, she was drawn back to him.

Her hope that the other children would be more eager to get out of the grand house vanished as soon as Esther ran down the stairs to her. Seth was on her heels and copied Esther when the little girl clamped her arms together in front of her and regarded Angela with ill-concealed irritation.

“Mrs. Meyer says Wallah must remain here,” Esther said with a scowl. “If Wallah cannot go, I shall not, either.”

Looking past the little girl to where the governess was shaking her silver-gray head in dismay, Angela said, “Esther, there are many plants in the garden at Harrington Grange. Any of them could be lethal to Wallah. Once you have looked at the plants there and checked them in one of your guardian’s books to identify them, then you can be sure Wallah will be safe.”

“You want me to do all that work? It sounds like what Mr. Weare makes us do.”

“If you wish to take Wallah out beyond Oslington Court’s gardens, you must be certain he is safe.”

Esther’s stance grew softer, but she mumbled, “He had better be invited to go with us next time.”

Seth seconded her sentiments by nodding and following her toward the front door.

“Where is Thomas?” Angela asked.

“In his room,” Mrs. Meyer said, adding in a near whisper, “He is no happier about going to Lord Harrington’s than the younger ones.”

“No happier?” Angela had been sure Thomas would be ecstatic about the chance to visit his friend without skulking across the fields. “Why not?”

“Because I am going to have to share the scanty time I have with Justin,” snapped Thomas as he came down into the foyer. “I thought you were supposed to help me, Miss Needham.”

“This was the best I could do. Your guardian was emphatic that all of you or none of you would call at Harrington Grange.” She did not add that she believed the duke hoped to put an end to any calls there after today. “His Grace has said we can call for two hours, which will give you time to retrieve some of your artwork to show him.”

“Two blasted hours,” he grumbled, “and I have to share them with my prattling sisters and my cabbage-head brother.”

“Thomas!”

The ginger-hackled boy scowled at her, then strode out of the house.

Angela sighed as she had so often since she had come to Oslington Court. She had not guessed that Thomas would be so jealous of the small amount of time he had with his friend. If only he would realize how fortunate he was to have this opportunity, but his frustration had blinded him.

The ride from Oslington Court in the pony cart was as gloomy as the day was bright. Angela’s few attempts at conversation were met with silence. She wondered if she should turn the cart around and simply send word to Harrington Grange that they must postpone their visit. This would not be the best way for the children to meet Justin’s daughter. She resisted giving in to defeat. If she hesitated now, she suspected both Justin and the duke would rescind their agreements to allow the children to visit.

At the gate of Harrington Grange, Esther and Seth tumbled out of the cart. Angela thanked Thomas for handing her down, but his only reply was a mutter, warning that he had not changed his opinion about this call. She had no time to watch him assist his sister, for the younger children launched into a brangle. They were debating—ever more loudly—which one of them could run faster and reach the end of the garden wall first.

Angela said, “Do have a race, and be done with it.”

If they were startled by her vexed tone, she gave them no time to comment. She walked through the gate, wishing she could convince the children that this visit to Harrington Grange was so very important. Not just to them, but to Justin’s daughter. She had explained nothing to the Sutton children, because, until she was sure how Delicia Harrington would react to meeting her neighbors, she did not know what to say. How could she prepare these children when she was so uncertain herself?

Her heart banged against her chest so fiercely that she was amazed that neither Leonia nor Thomas said anything about the frantic sound. She could barely hear past its thud. Even more than the children’s meeting, she was unsure about how to act when she saw Justin for the first time since he had kissed her. More than once in the past few days, she had considered what a skimble-skamble she had made of the already tenuous situation by letting him seduce her into his arms at the very time he had come to apologize for being so bold as to kiss her hand. Her hand? ’Twas her lips that ached for his kiss now.

Angela looked around the small garden. She had guessed that Justin would be waiting for them. When she saw no one, she wondered if he had become immersed in his studies and forgotten that this was Thursday and the Sutton children were to meet Delicia.

Or had he remembered, but changed his mind about the call? She could not forget the fury in his eyes when they had locked with the duke’s.

Her hands fisted by her sides, but she forced her fingers to loosen. She had no reason to believe Justin would renege on his promise. That he had welcomed Thomas to Harrington Grange showed that Justin would not feel compelled to obey his neighbor’s orders.

Angela knocked on the door, but received no answer. Hearing uneasy rumbles from the children, she forced a smile. “Leonia, if you would please take the others to sit in the arbor by the garden path, they might be more comfortable. This sun is very bright.”

“Is something wrong?”

Wavering between a falsehood and the truth, Angela had no chance to answer. The garden leaves rustled, and the bare-bones housekeeper emerged from the overgrown vines.

“Mrs. Graves!” Angela could not silence her shock to see the housekeeper sneaking through the brush.

Mrs. Graves glanced toward the house, then at the children standing beside Angela, their mouths wide with amazement. “Miss Needham, may I please take a moment of your time?”

“Of course.”

“Alone?” When Angela frowned at the peculiar request, the older woman hurried to say, “I needed to speak to you before his lordship brings Delicia out.”

Angela nodded. “Leonia, please take your sister and brothers and sit in arbor.”

“But, Angela—”

“This will take but a moment.”

Leonia scowled, but herded the others ahead of her through the garden. The look she shot back at Angela announced that
this
was not her idea of how to pay a call. Nor was it Angela’s.

“Is Delicia ill?” asked Angela as soon as the children were out of earshot.

“No, but I beg you to reconsider your plans for today,” Mrs. Graves answered, wringing her hands in her apron.

“Why? Lord Harrington has approved of them.”

The older woman shuddered. “Mayhap he does not fully understand their import.”

“Import? I realize he and the duke have a long-standing feud, but that should not preclude the children from playing together.”

“Delicia is not at all like the Sutton children.”

Angela smiled as she glanced at where Seth and Esther were busy swinging on the gate. Their laughter and shouts filled the garden, and she did not have the heart to remonstrate with them for disobeying her request to sit in the arbor. “I doubt if there are many children like these. They are so rambunctious, and their manners can be abominable. However, they have warm hearts, so you do not need to fear on Delicia’s behalf. I know they will be eager to meet a new playmate, for they were accustomed to being with other children in India.”

“Will they be so eager when they see how she is flawed?”

“Delicia cannot hear, but she is not flawed,” Angela fired back. She struggled with her abrupt anger, for it would do no good to release it. Yet, she could not allow Mrs. Graves—who thought she was speaking out of love—to ruin this day and what might be the single chance for the Sutton children and Justin’s daughter to meet. “You must not speak of her as if she is nothing more than a piece of furniture which should be hidden in the attic when it is no longer perfect. No child is perfect.” Her smile returned as she heard the gate give a protesting creak before banging closed, but she became serious again when she added, “Delicia is a little girl who needs to be with other children, so she can learn to be a child just like them.”

“She cannot be like
them.
” Mrs. Graves’s face grew long with dismay.

“She must have the chance to be as boisterous and play as a child should.”

“If—” The housekeeper clamped her lips closed as the front door of Harrington Grange opened.

Angela was sure she had never seen a more charming
tableau
than Justin in the doorway, his hand in his daughter’s. Seeing them standing next to each other, their kohl hair glistening in the sunshine, their eyes of the same sea-green shade searching the garden, she was surprised that she had not sensed the truth that Delicia was Justin’s daughter from the very first moment she saw the child.

Delicia’s bonnet tied under her chin with green ribbons that matched the ruffles on her skirt. Justin’s single-breasted coat was as dark as his hair, but he wore a flowered waistcoat which was only a shade darker than Delicia’s ribbons.

Angela was abruptly aware of the dusty state of the children she had brought with her. Patting at her hair, which refused to stay confined beneath her straw poke-bonnet, she brushed her hands against her pink muslin skirt. She took a single step forward, wishing someone else would speak first.

Kneeling, she smiled as she saw bafflement and uneasiness in Delicia’s eyes. She held out her hand and said slowly, “Delicia, I am Angela.”

The little girl put her fingers on Angela’s lips, startling her.

“Say your name again,” Justin whispered, as if his daughter would hear him if he spoke louder. “It gives her some comfort.”

Angela resisted retorting that the child needed more than comforting, but pointed to herself and repeated her name. Then she pointed at Delicia and said the child’s name. A wisp of a smile teased the little girl’s serious face.

Standing, Angela motioned for the Sutton children to come forward. They were as silent as they had been during the drive to Harrington Grange.

Justin stayed close to his daughter, who stared at the youngsters flanking Angela. With a low laugh, he said, “We look like a group of widgeons when we stand here like this.”

“Yes, we do.” Angela drew Esther forward, then gave her a gentle shove toward the younger girl. “Esther, this is Delicia Harrington.” Bending, she murmured in Esther’s ear, “Say your name slowly. Delicia cannot hear when you speak.”

“Cannot hear?” Esther’s eyes were large as she looked from Delicia to Angela.

Seeing Justin tense, Angela hurried to say, “She lost her hearing when she was a baby. She is only a little younger than Seth, so I thought you and Seth might enjoy playing with her. Do you think she will like Wallah?”

Esther grinned at the mention of her pet. Stepping closer to Delicia, she must have forgotten Angela’s request to speak slowly because she prattled like her monkey.

Angela was about to reprove Esther, but bit back her words when she saw how fascinated Delicia was with the other little girl. Esther held out her hand as Angela had, never pausing in her chatter as she now related how she and Seth had swung on the gate.

Delicia looked to her father. Justin nodded, and the little girl clasped Esther’s hand. When Esther led Delicia to meet her siblings, Angela released a sigh of relief. The children were not yet friends, but she could believe that was possible.

Thomas pushed past the other children. “Justin,” he said, unable to quell his excitement, “I want to show you the information I discovered yesterday in Rodney’s library about that butterfly we saw when we went out for that walk last week.”