Angelina (9 page)

“Angelina would. As it’s obvious one of us is to be put in the position of losing face, I’ve determined it will be you on this occasion. If Celine can accept the gift with pleasure and grace would you spoil it for her? His face softened when Rafe relaxed. “Your pride will not hurt so much when you see how well your sister looks, and I shall let you have the honour of choosing her hat.”

* * * *

Rafe was bored, but didn’t allow it to show as he stood behind the chairs occupied by Celine and an aging dowager. The slightly remote smile he wore was assumed for such occasions, donned like a pair of stockings, or a hat. His manners, learned through familiarity with society were a set ritual of grace and blandness. He commanded a great deal of respect despite his poverty, for his powerful size when combined with his enigmatic approach was attractive to both men and women.

Even though the drawing room windows were ajar, the salon was hot and stuffy, and redolent of the jasmine perfume Constance Snelling wore. The perfume was as familiar to Rafe as the layout of her bedchamber, for he’d indulged in a brief, but passionate affair with the woman two years previously. Beneath the petticoat flounces, perfume and learned graces was a woman of coarse nature, well versed in the darker pleasures of lovemaking. His disenchantment had soon turned to disgust.

There were rumours about her son. His glance touched on Nicholas and he was hard put to stop his lip curling. The youth’s cut away jacket was of pale lilac stripes, his buttons mother-of-pearl, and his stock, a large purple bow to matched the pair adorning his shoes. Even his stockings were striped lilac, with posies of flowers embroidered at the ankle. The colour looked well against the youth’s Latin darkness, but his appearance leaned towards the feminine.

Nicholas was talking to Angelina, his dark soulful eyes intent on her face, his lips parting every now and again in a smile. A stab of annoyance shot through him when she laughed for the second time in as many minutes.What did she find so amusing about the fellow?

Then Angelina glanced at Celine, but she was deep in conversation with the dowager. The appeal in them turned to desperation. For a second her eyes caught his. They widened a fraction, then moved on to James.

James was trapped on a sofa between two determined looking mamas. His friend should have learned by now, it was easier to extricate oneself from such a situation if one remained standing. He’d have to rescue Angelina himself.

Unhurriedly, Rafe worked his way through the crush towards his prey. Angelina was elegant in a gown the colour of toasted almonds, with a flounced hem and striped overskirt. Her hair was fashioned into tiny curls, and ringlets bounced against her shoulder every time she moved her head. He preferred her hair as he’d first seen it, hanging in shining ripples of liquid amber down her back.

Exquisitely beautiful, she resembled a delicate figurine. But inside...? He grinned to himself when she edged her hand away from Nicholas’. Inside her, he suspected, lurked the disposition of a tiger if someone were to push her hard enough.

 “My dear, Lord Lynnbury. We missed you at the Pallisters last week. “

“I had urgent business to attend to and recently took leave of them.” Rafe automatically bore a gloved hand to his lips. “You are well, I hope, Lady Margaret.”

“Well enough, well enough. It’s such a pleasure to meet your sister. A pity she has no prospects.”

Rafe didn’t let his anger show at the slight.

A fan touched his sleeve, delaying his passage. “Tell me about Angelina Wrey? Is it true she’s inherited the Pakenham fortune.”

“As to that you will have to ask her brother.” He kept his voice non-committal, refusing to let his irritation show by any outward change of expression or stance. “Lord Romsey is in attendance somewhere.”

“She’s a pretty child, if one can overlook her unfashionable colouring.”

“Her colouring is unusually beautiful, like that of her mother, Lady Elizabeth.”

“Quite so.” Lady Margaret’s voice dropped a little, inviting his confidence.

“One hears the girl was abandoned by her parents at birth. I cannot imagine why. Is there a deformity do you think?”

 Rafe levelled his eyes on her. “I’m led to understand she has three legs?” He laughed inside when the woman’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“How very odd.” 

Beginning to enjoy himself, Rafe kept his face as bland as possible. “Three has always been an odd number “

“Quite! quite!” Lady Margaret”s glance darted beyond Rafe’s shoulder and her voice became breathless with excitement. “Oh, there’s Beatrice. Excuse me, My Lord. I really must talk to her before she leaves.”

When Rafe reached Angelina, his good humour was totally restored. Dropping his pose he smiled warmly at her. “James is neglecting you, Angel,” he drawled with easy familiarity. “Take a turn around the garden with me.”

“I was just about to recite a love poem I composed.” Nicholas  looked petulant for a moment, then his eyes turned up to Rafe and his long dark eyelashes fluttered. “Perhaps you’d care to hear it too, Lord Lynnbury.”

“Some other time.” When Angelina’s hand touched lightly on his offered arm Rafe steered her through the open windows on to the terrace. The deep breath she took was faintly audible, her eyes took on the green of summer leaves as they turned his way.

“Thank you, Rafe. I didn’t know how to escape from him without being rude.”

“You manage it with me,” he said with a chuckle, “Though I must admit you’ve not yet learned the knack of graceful withdrawal from a skirmish.”

A faint blush tinted her cheeks and she giggled. “You’re different from anyone else I’ve met, Rafe.”

“Should I be flattered or offended by that remark?” He led her down the steps towards the rose garden “Pray, elaborate.”

“You will not tease or laugh?” How trusting her eyes looked. That same second resignation crept into them. “Of course you will laugh. You’re of the opinion I’m an ignoramus who has been kept isolated in the country. I deserve to be teased.”

“Do not presume to know my opinion of you,” he said lightly. “I do not tease you because I think you deserve it. I tease you because I like the reaction I get. Sometimes you’re angry, sometimes you blush and sometimes you’re confused. Always, your reaction delights me.”

“I’m pleased I’m able to provide you with such amusement.” A scornful toss of her head contradicted the words.

“You’re not pleased at all.” He placed his hand over hers so she could not flee. “There’s a difference between amusement and pleasure. It’s pleasure your reaction gives me.” He picked a white daisy from the garden bed, holding it out to her. “If my pleasure is gained at your expense I’ll cease the practice of teasing you instantly.”

“Then I should have nothing to chastise you for.” She accepted the daisy, briefly inhaling its fragrance before threading it into the ribbon tied around her throat. “I’ve noticed the sort of banter we engage in is very fashionable in society, so I must confess to being grateful for the practice you afford me.”

“Then you do not wish me to stop?” He chuckled when she pursed her lips in annoyance. “You said yourself I would be perfect if I did. To my mind there’s nothing worse than being considered perfect, except, of course, being aware of one’s perfection and acquainting others with the fact.”

Tipping her head to one side she regarded him with mock seriousness. “Those were not exactly the words I used, nor the sentiment expressed.” The smile she gave was unguarded, almost intimate. “Your perceptions are correct though. Nicholas Snelling is convinced he is perfect. To be honest, I’ve never met anyone quite so tedious.”

 “You’ll cross him from your list of prospective husbands then.” He lifted her gloved hand to his lips and placed a kiss in the palm. “Undoubtedly, you can do much better for yourself.”

“I haven’t got a list. If I did have, the beautiful Nicholas would be at the very bottom.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He is gynandrous, I think.” 

Shock ripped through him. Where had Angelina learned such a word, and did she know its meaning? His eyes hooded in contemplation of her. “Some subjects are considered unseemly for young ladies to have even heard of, Angelina, let alone discuss. You would be wise not to make such comments in future. James would not find it amusing.”

“I apologise,” she murmured, her eyes lifting to his in horrified awareness. “I spent too much time in the library when I was growing up. Lord Pakenham was a physician by profession, and many of the books in his library were medical in content.” Her hands covered her heated cheeks. “I studied them merely to learn midwifery skills. I hoped to work with Lady Alexandra in the charity hospital amongst the poor.”

“A worthy aspiration, but I would not have you witness the bitterness and misery of the poor as yet. The experience will rob you of much of your joy and innocence. Promise me you’ll abandon that pursuit for the present.”

“If that’s your wish,” she murmured. “I’ll make you that promise.” 

Removing her hands from her face, Rafe gazed into her limpid green eyes and forgave her her indiscretion. He hoped James would not be in too much of a hurry to see her settled. He had strangely ambivalent feelings towards this girl. In her company he felt refreshed, and he wanted to get to know her better.

A group of three girls sauntered past. One of them looked Angelina over and giggled, the other two held their laughter until they were safely past.Her fingers applied pressure to his arm, bringing his attention back to her. “Please do not tell James. I’m trying so hard to earn his affection, and could not bear to find censure in his eyes. “

He turned her back towards the salon. “He’ll not hear it from my lips.”  

It seemed to Rafe that every pair of eyes in the room was upon them when they entered the salon again. His glance swept to his sister, who was talking to James. James looked rattled, and a relieved smile touched his lips when his eyes met Rafe’s, then faded to a frown as they lit upon Angelina. Detaching himself from Celine’s side, he made his way over to them. 

“It appears you’ve made yourself noticed, Angelina.” Taking her by the arm he drew her aside. “There’s a macabre rumour going around that you are the possessor of three legs.”

Rafe smiled when Angelina giggled. 

“Rumours of this kind are not funny, my dear. They spread like wildfire. Can you think of anything you said to encourage such a tale?”

“It’s not her fault,” Rafe growled before James could investigate further. “It’s mine. Lady Margaret was insufferably inquisitive about Angelina’s circumstances, and I was ironic in my reply. I didn’t imagine she’d take the remark seriously.”

“You told her I had three legs?” Angelina’s eyes became bright with laughter. “Oh Rafe, that’s wonderful.”

James looked discomforted. “It’s not in the least wonderful, everyone is laughing at you.”

 “I do not give two farthings for their laughter.”

 “Who are you feeling embarrassed for, my friend?” Rafe asked him. “Yourself, or Angelina? If Angelina is not bothered why should you be?”

“I could lift my skirt and reveal I have the standard number of legs,” Angelina suggested
sotto voce
.

Rafe exchanged an amused glance with her when James interjected hastily. “I forbid you to do anything so immodest.”

Her eyes began to smoulder and her chin lifted. “Am I to be reprimanded in public because idle tongues have nothing better to do than wag at another’s expense?”

Celine saved the day. Joining them, her hand jerked. A few drops of lemonade splashed on Angelina’s skirt.

“How clumsy of me,” she declared, dabbing at the wet patch with a lace-edged square of linen. “We must sponge this off before it stains.”

Within minutes they were in an ante room, where Angelina was persuaded by Constance Snelling and Lady Margaret to step from her petticoat whilst a maid rinsed the stains from her dress.

Angelina made a show of straightening her stockings and retying the ribbons before allowing herself to be gowned again. Lady Margaret sniffed before hurrying away with the news.

Constance Snelling, whose eyes had taken in every move, looked almost as disappointed as Lady Margaret to discover that her guest was normal, after all. Suspecting she’d been deliberately made a fool of she raised her eyes to Angelina’s and discovered them full of laughter. Her own eyes hardened.

She’d been watching the girl, watching the way she handled herself. Angelina Wrey seemed to have Rafe Daventry wrapped around her little finger. Constance smiled at the thought, finding it oddly satisfying that this pert little snip could capture the interest of an elusive rogue like Rafe.

Constance had discovered to her expense that Rafe wasn’t a man to be trifled with. He’d been the best of lovers, until she’d wanted to play games. He’d declined, she’d insisted, sure of her power to win him round. On finding another man in attendance one night, he had simply walked away. This was the first time he’d entered her house since. He was not a man to be bought despite his circumstances, and to see him so obviously enamoured by this girl amused her. Despite his poverty, Rafe was a rarity amongst men. Angelina’s wealth would not sit easy with him, and his arrogant pride would get in the way of a match.

As for Angelina Wrey? Her eyes swept over her in disdain. The girl’s air of independence was vexing, as though the objectionable Lady Alexandra had set her in the same mould as herself. She did not look biddable.

Nicholas had shown considerable interest in her, which was a pity. He was becoming independent of late. Constance would prefer his future wife to be less intelligent than Angelina Wrey. Without thinking, Constance shook her head. “Fortune or no fortune, she’ll not do for Nicholas.”

Constance realised she’d spoken aloud when Angelina Wrey gazed at her with an offended expression. She wasn’t given a chance to redress her insult with a lie or a pretty witticism. Angelina’s green eyes narrowed almost cruelly on her when Constance smiled disarmingly to cover her faux pas. Angry rags of colour skimmed the young woman’s cheeks. Her voice was soft, but pitched to carry. Ears were always canted to catch the latest tid-bit of gossip, and the door had been left ajar.