A Guardians Angel (23 page)

Angela nodded, knowing how lonely it could be to live in a house where nobody seemed to care about the needs of her heart. She had escaped from her brother’s house, but Leonia would only escape from the duchess when she married. With a sigh, Angela knew she must not do anything that would persuade the duchess to banish her and leave Leonia without a confidante.

But that meant turning her back on Justin. Her hands tightened on the books. Could she protect Leonia at the cost of heartbreak? She had no answer, so she forced a smile and said, “Leonia, I have no intention of leaving as long as the duke wishes me to remain.”

“Rodney appreciates what you do! I wish he was himself again! Then he would set his mother to rights.”

“I hope your guardian knows how much you have done for him.” She could not agree with Leonia, for the duke had complied with his mother’s wishes since her arrival. Or had that been because he was too ill to begin a brangle?

“I hope so, too.” Leonia rushed away along the hall as a clock somewhere chimed the half hour.

Angela followed Culver in the opposite direction. The valet had been wisely silent. Glancing back, Angela promised herself that she would find a way to spend more time with Leonia now that His Grace was on the mend. And if the chance arose to mention this problem to him today, she would do so.

Tilting the books Leonia had given her, she read the titles.
Notes of a Journey in India. Egypt and Its Many Lost Treasures. The Indian Ocean and the Subcontinent
. She smiled, delighted that the duke had such books in his library. She must ask him if she could read them as well, for she loved the idea of traveling beyond England’s shores. How she had dreamed of wandering far from England! When the children spoke of their long journey from India and the wonders they had seen in that distant land, she had hidden her envy.

Culver opened the duke’s door, and Angela entered to see that a set of drapes that had always been closed were now pushed aside. A pair of glass doors were thrown open to let fresh air into the room. Sitting on a chair on the small balcony, the duke was bundled in blankets as if the day were as chilly as midwinter.

“Miss Needham, Your Grace,” the valet said with a bow.

“Thank you, Culver.” The duke’s voice was weak, and his hand quivered as he gestured to another chair. “Do sit, Miss Needham.”

“Shall I bring tea?” Culver asked.

The duke glanced toward the sky. “Ah, I see it is already time for that. Yes, bring some tea and some of Cook’s excellent chocolate cake if she has any.”

“I shall find out, Your Grace.” With a glance that seemed to warn Angela to treat the fragile man with all gentleness, the valet went back into the house.

“The day goes quickly when one naps most of it away,” the duke said as Angela crossed the balcony.

She set the books on a low table beside the stone railing. “Leonia thought these might entertain you during your convalescence.”

“She is a dear child.”

“She is not a child any longer, Your Grace.” She sat and faced him. His coloring was still pale, but he looked better than he had any time since they had returned from Scotland. “Leonia taught Dr. Young and Culver what they needed to know to tend to you.”

He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, and she stiffened, for the motion brought his mother to mind. “I should have brought Mohun with me.”

“Mohun?”

“My servant in India. He wished to stay in his native land. He would have served me better than that kindly old man that my father bequeathed me along with his title.” He raised his hand. “Do not think that I am belittling Culver’s skills, for he is an excellent valet. It is that he does not understand this condition I suffer from.”

“None of us did, save for Leonia.” She smiled. “And what matters is that you are recovering nicely. I daresay you soon shall be riding about the countryside.”

“Thanks in large part to you, Miss Needham.” He took her hand, shocking her. “There were so many times when I was half-awake, and I could hear you giving orders to see to my comfort and well-being.”

“I was glad to help, but I was only there when—”

“Angela!” Seth raced out onto the balcony. He did not seem to notice his guardian as he grabbed her hands. His large, blue eyes were filled with trepidation. “Angela, Esther needs your help. Wallah is climbing to the very top of the curtains in the nursery, and Mrs. Meyers is threatening vapors, and—”

“She does hot wish the duke to be disturbed,” interrupted the duke.

The child blushed as he turned to face his guardian. “Rodney, I thought you were in bed!”

“I was, but now I am speaking with Miss Needham and telling her how grateful I am for her care.” He smiled at the little boy who was standing as straight as a tin soldier. “Will you be so kind, Seth, to inform your sister that Miss Needham is busy speaking with me?”

“Esther will not like that.”

“I did not think she would.” He smiled, a sight that always astonished Angela because it changed his whole demeanor. “Ask Mrs. Meyer to take herself to her room. I fear Mrs. Burkhardt is far too busy to burn feathers to rouse a swooning governess. Have your brother fetch Wallah down from the ceiling, and tell Esther to keep him on his leash.”

“Thomas is not here.” He clapped his hands over his mouth and looked guiltily at Angela.

“Where is he?” asked the duke.

Angela stood and went to look past the trees edging the balcony. As she had hoped, she could see the roof of Harrington Grange from here. “It is Thursday,” she said without emotion. “I suspect he chose not to obey Her Grace’s edict that the children stay away from Harrington Grange.”

“I told them that they could continue to call there on Thursdays.”

“True.”

“My mother countermanded that order?”

“Yes.” She bent and gave Seth a shove toward the door. “Go and tell your sister what the duke has asked you to tell her. Mr. Weare should be able to fetch Wallah down from the curtains.”

“All right, Angela,” he said, his eyes wide as he looked at his guardian, who was now scowling.

“It appears, Miss Needham,” the duke added as soon as the hallway door closed behind the little boy, “that there have been some changes since I took ill.”

She did not want to speak against his mother. When she stumbled over a noncommittal answer, he said, “Do not fill my ears with useless comments. You need only answer one question: Why have you allowed Thomas to pay a call at Harrington Grange without you?”

“I find it impossible to be in two places at the same time.”

“Do you?” He arched a brow, and a hint of a smile returned to his lips. “I have to own that, as proficient as you have proven in altering my household, Miss Needham, I am astounded you cannot perform so minor a miracle.”

“If you wish me to retrieve him at Harrington Grange—”

Her hope that she finally had the excuse she needed to call on Justin vanished when the duke said, “No!”

She stared at him, shocked by his sharp retort.

“Forgive me.” He laughed shortly. “You cannot guess how it nettles me to see all of you going
ventre-à-terre
to that blasted place. Pray do not glower at me, Miss Needham. I know I agreed to these weekly calls. However, on this matter, I may have to agree with my mother, something that I do not do often. I would like the children to see less of Harrington.” He rested his chin on his fist. “I believe he has been using them to further his own goals.”

“His own goals? I do not understand, Your Grace.”

His brows arched again. “No? Think, if you would, Miss Needham, why I asked you to come to Oslington Court. Although you have taught Leonia some of your charming graces, your foremost concern should be assuring that she does nothing beyond the canons of propriety.”

In spite of herself, heat scorched Angela’s cheeks. These words she comprehended all too well, for they were equally insulting to her and to Justin. She guessed the duchess had come to the duke after dressing Angela down for letting Justin embrace her.

“Your Grace, I assure you that nothing I have done—”

“You?” He shook his head, then put his hand to his forehead. “Miss Needham, I have no quarrel with your actions. I worry instead about Harrington’s. Leonia is an impressionable young girl.”

“Leonia?” Angela almost laughed. Apparently the duchess had not regaled him with how Angela had been discovered in Justin’s arms. “You need have no worry in that quarter, Your Grace. The viscount treats Leonia just as he does the other children.”

“Good, for I have no wish to hear of an announcement from that quarter.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You need not look as if I have put you to the stare, Miss Needham. As Leonia’s guardian,
my
obligation is to be certain that she makes a match that will be both pleasing and proper for her.”

“She will be pleased to know that.” There must be a way for Angela to tell him that Leonia’s heart already was aching to be given to a man she loved. Again the temptation to laugh taunted her. The duke believed that Leonia might fall for Justin when Leonia loved her guardian. At the same time, Angela could not find an excuse to go to Harrington Court to ask Justin to be honest with her … as she would be when she told him that she was in love with him. Knowing she must add something else, she said, “I can assure you that Leonia will be well prepared to be fired-off when the next Season begins.”

“I have no idea where Leonia or any of us shall be by the time the Season starts anew. Burn it! England is boring.”

“Your Grace?”

His gaze focused on her. In the sharpest tone she had ever heard him use, he snapped, “You need not act so dashedly polite every minute of every day. Don’t you get tired of being prettily mannered and having to do the same blasted things every day until you are sure you will go quite mad with
ennui?
” When he put his hands on his chair to push himself to his feet, she stepped forward to make certain he did not collapse. “Stay back, Miss Needham. I am not ready to cock up my toes yet.”

“As you wish.”

“As I wish? What do you wish?” He set himself on his feet, but was prudent enough to keep his hand on the back of the chair. “Is
this
the life you dream of? A tranquil house in the country where you can hear the walls moldering around you?”

“No.”

“Neither do I!” He was steadier on his feet than Angela had dared to hope as he walked the few steps to the edge of the balcony. Leaning on the thick wall, he said, “I have had a lot of time to think about this while I was bed-bound. Now I know that I have made a mistake, and I intend to rectify it as soon as possible. But, first, I need you to do something for me.”

“Your Grace?”

“Miss Needham, take the pony cart and retrieve Thomas and his sketches from Harrington Grange posthaste.”

“But you said—”

“I made a mistake there as well.” He did not face her, so she could not read his expression as he said, “Do not think me mad, Miss Needham. Mayhap this bout with the malaria was a blessing in disguise, for it has shown me that I am a fool not to do as I wish.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” She had no idea what else to say.

“And right now, I wish for Thomas and his sketches to be retrieved. Tell Thomas to bid his farewells to Harrington, because he has made his last call there.”

Angela was glad the duke could not see her expression, which was certain to reveal her despair when she whispered, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Posthaste, Miss Needham.”

Going into the house, she narrowly missed bumping into Culver. She mumbled an apology to him as she went out into the hallway. Numb, she went along the hallway. The duke was planning something. She was not sure what. The only thing she was certain of was that this could very well be her final call at Harrington Grange.

Sixteen

Angela held her head high as she knocked on the door at Harrington Grange. Otherwise, she feared tears would leak from her eyes, and she would reveal the sorry state of her heart.

When the door opened, Mrs. Graves had barely a chance to greet her before a small, pale-pink whirlwind rushed out to throw her arms around Angela. “She has been waiting anxiously,” Mrs. Graves said.

Squatting, Angela smiled at Delicia. “Good afternoon, Delicia.” She put Delicia’s fingers to her mouth and repeated herself.

The little girl grinned, her lips moving in a copy of what Angela had said, although no sound emerged. Then she waved both hands in the air at about shoulder level.

“I don’t understand,” Angela said.

Tapping Angela’s arm, Delicia made the motion again, this time with impatience.

“I am sorry, Delicia. I do not understand.”

“She is asking,” Justin said as he walked toward them, “where Esther is. That is the motion she makes when she greets Esther.”

Angela came to her feet slowly. Her eyes feasted on the sight of him. His collar was missing, and his waistcoat was unbuttoned to reveal the easy ripple of muscles with each step. His feet were bare beneath his breeches, and she was sure she had never seen him look more beguiling. His tousled hair teased her fingers to sift through it, and she could not keep from staring at his sensuous lips.

A tug on her skirt pulled her from her dream of being in his arms. Looking down at Delicia, who was making the motion again, Angela shook her head. “Esther is not here.”

Delicia’s face fell.

“Mrs. Graves?” asked Justin.

“Yes, my lord.” Putting her hands on Delicia’s head, she turned the little girl’s head toward the kitchen. “Come, lamb, and let us make your favorite cake.”

Delicia broke away and ran to her father. Once more, she made the motions. He shook his head. Her shoulders sagged, and tears glistened in her eyes when she took Mrs. Graves’s hand and walked out of the entry hall.

“She has been making that motion since our midday meal was served,” Justin said, not coming closer to her.

“I did not think that you put much value into the signals she makes with her hands.”

“I have changed my mind.”

“So has the duke.”

His face became grim. “I was afraid of that when your usual time to call came and went without any hint of anyone but Thomas.”