Angel's Devil (20 page)

Only then did it hit him-Simon didn't want Angelique! His mind began
running in a hundred directions. He'd put himself in a hole by telling
Angelique that he didn't believe in love. It would take some work to convince
her otherwise. There was another problem, though, in that Simon had not yet
broken the engagement. Duty bound as his cousin was, it was entirely likely he
wouldn't back out of the marriage regardless of whose happiness would be
ruined.

James gave a short grin. That actually could work to his advantage. At
the moment, he was expected to continue flirting with her until her parents
decided to save her from ruin by marrying her off to his cousin. Hopefully
Simon wouldn't give in to his guilt over Lily, because if Angelique knew the
truth, she might very well back away from the Devil before he had a chance to
win her. She would also be hurt, knowing that Simon didn't think her proper
enough to wed. If there was anything James didn't want, it was to see her hurt.

"Brutus!"

Henry's voice came from close by, and the dog gave a happy woof.

"Angel, he's over here! I heard him!"

"I have him," James called, and dimly heard the other children
cheer.

This was a careful hand he'd have to play, keeping both her parents and
Simon at bay. If he went too far in either direction he'd lose her. The Duke of
Wellington had once told him he had a remarkable gift for strategy, but he had
the feeling that this would be the most difficult battle of his life—for the
simple reason that he'd never so desperately wanted, or needed, to win.

11

"I
told you, Angel, if you see a bear, climb a tree."

Angelique grimaced and glanced about. "That's easy for you to
say," she returned, pushing after her brother as they followed the sound
of James's voice. "You're not wearing a dress. Besides, bears climb
trees, don't they?"

"I don't know." Henry giggled. "But don't worry. I'll
protect you. Lord James would be mad if I let a bear eat you."

"Don't you mean Simon would be mad?" she returned wistfully,
wishing her brother were correct.

"I don't know about Simon, but Percival Alcott said you were a
hoyden, and Lord James said if he ever said anything else bad about you, he would
hand that fop his teeth in a bag."

Angelique's heart began hammering. "And when was this?"

"Last night." Henry paused while Angel pulled her skirt free
from some brambles. "In the drawing room. I wanted to ask Lord James if he
would help me teach India that bowing trick he does with Demon. You know which
one?"

"Yes."

"It's a fine trick, ain't it?"

Angelique chuckled. "Yes, it is. Finish the story, Henry."

"I followed him upstairs. He stopped outside your room against the
railing, and just stood there in the dark, looking at your door."

A blush crept up Angel's cheeks. She hadn't been sleeping , well for the
past few nights. Not since James had kissed her, in fact. The idea that he'd
been standing outside her door while she lay awake in bed . . . "I forgot
to give a book to him. He was probably trying to decide whether I was still
awake or not," she offered.

Henry made a face at her. "I think he just likes you," he stated
matter-of-factly. "You should marry him."

"Henry! I'm engaged to Simon," she said firmly.

"Indeed she is," James said cheerfully as he and Brutus
emerged from the undergrowth, "and woe is we who waited too long to
woo."

"Brutus!" Henry ran forward and threw his arms around the
mastiff, who lifted a wounded paw for examination.

"So waiting was woe?" Angel laughed, kneeling to receive a
rather damp nose in her ear and much amused by the marquis's good-humored
silliness. It made her quite forget about Simon's ill-humor.

"Only for wooing."

"But would you have wooed if you hadn't waited too wong, er,
long?"

James smiled softly. "Indeed, I would have wooed." Angel
didn't quite know what to make of where this conversation seemed to be going,
but she wished to follow it

"But why?" she said quietly.
    
,

Again he seemed able to read her thoughts. "Why would I woo, or why
did I wait so long to return to London?" The emerald of his eyes was
bewitching, and she didn't dare look away. "The first should be obvious,
and the second I will never forgive myself for."

"Never?" she whispered.

James knelt beside her. "Never."

"Was he caught in a rabbit snare?" Henry queried, and Angel
started and turned her eyes from James.

The marquis cleared his throat and stood. "And the poacher who came
upon that catch would have been rather surprised.”

Henry laughed. "I'll say." He looked over at Angel as she
rose. "He might even have thought he caught a
bear."

Angel cuffed her brother lightly on the ear. "Stop that, you wicked
boy," she admonished with a half-annoyed grin.

"I told you, Lord James and I would protect you," Henry
replied, urging Brutus toward the path.

"We would happily dedicate our lives to such a noble cause,"
James elaborated with a wolfish grin.

He was obviously forgetting something. Or rather, someone. "And
what does that leave for Lily?" she returned.

Annoyance crossed his sensitive features. "Whatever's
necessary," he muttered.

"Not changing your mind about her, are you?" she queried
off-handedly, hoping he had. For her own sake, not Lily's.

James glanced away. "I don't know," he said quietly.

It was the truth, she realized. “Well, Lily will be relieved."

"And what about you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm relieved as well. I told you she would never suit
you."

He pursed his lips. "Yes, what were those requirements again? Ah, I
remember. Intelligence, sense of humor, beauty, wit, charm and-what else was
there?"

"You've left out demure and respectable," she offered,
swallowing.

James waved a hand as though pushing those two qualities away.
"That sounds rather dull, don't you think? I've decided to do away with
them."

"Oh, you have, have you?"

"I have," he returned, undaunted by her tone. He tapped his
chin with one long finger. "Now, who does this describe, do you
think?"

"Angel," Henry answered, grinning at her.

"Henry, be quiet," she ordered, flushing.

"Do you think so, m'boy?" James jumped on her brother's
comment.

"Unfortunate then, that you waited too long to woo, isn't it?"
Angel cut in, and stomped ahead to walk with Brutus.

"No wedding bells have rung yet," the marquis murmured behind
her, but she pretended not to hear.

She avoided James for the rest of the evening, but spent another night
tossing and turning when he refused to leave her thoughts. It wasn't fair, she
kept thinking, that he had been in Belgium when she'd had her Season, so that
Simon was the cousin who had proposed. He didn't believe in love, she told
herself over and over, James didn't believe in love and so they would never suit
anyway. She would marry Simon and they would live at Turbin Hall, and she would
be happy. She turned her face into her pillow so Lily next door wouldn't hear
her crying. She would be happy if it killed her.

The next morning James came into the breakfast room shortly after she
did. He greeted his guests, then glanced from her to Simon, his gaze far too
speculative and scheming for her peace of mind, or heart.

The marquis reached for a slice of toasted bread. "As we're all
gathered together, this seems a good time to announce that there is to be a
ball at the Wainsmore estate on Saturday. All of the local gentry will be
there," he went on, his jaw twitching with amusement, "including the
rather frightening Agatha, Lady Fitzsimmons—"

"Jamie," his grandmother admonished.

"I'm not the one who saw her taking tea with her cats," James
noted, and smiled as the children giggled. "Katherine and Harold wish all
of my guests to attend as well."

"Ooh, a ball," Helen said excitedly, but Henry shook his head
at her.

"He means all the adult guests," he corrected.

James nodded. "You're quite right, Henry, and I do apologize."

Henry grinned. "That's all right. I don't like any of that stuffy
dancing, anyway."

Helen pouted. “I do."

"You don't know how to dance."

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

Simon coughed as James elbowed him in the back. "Perhaps we can
arrange our own soiree," he suggested.

"Excelleat idea," James seconded immediately, and Angel
realized he must have been planning such a thing all along.

"And I suppose a roving band of musicians happens to be travelling
through the village at this very moment?" she said coolly.

James raised an eyebrow at her. "As a matter of fact, one is. And
they have agreed to play for us tonight."

"Lord James?" Helen called excitedly. "Yes, my
dear?"

Helen gestured at him, and with a slight smile he came around the table
and leaned down while she whispered into his ear. Angel found it a constant
source of amazement that this man, who had such an awful reputation, could be
so wonderful with children.

At every turn she expected him to tire of the novelty of their presence,
but he had not. Instead they had all become fast friends, and he their
champion, and Angel had begun to believe that even after they returned home,
she would never hear a sentence uttered by either twin that didn't include
James's name. He would make a splendid father, she thought, then blushed
furiously.

The marquis nodded and whispered something back to Helen, who giggled. “It's
all settled, then. Our own soiree tonight, and then the Wainsmore ball on
Saturday."

"Are you certain?" Angel's mother asked. "That's a great
deal of trouble to go through to please the children."
          
 

"I would hope it would please you, as well," James replied.
"And you should know by now, my lady, that I thrive on trouble."
               
.

Again his glance was at Angelique, and she self-consciously looked over
at her parents. It was still the plan, for him to be pretending to fall for
her, but he was being so . . . obvious about it. That was quite unlike him, and
she had to wonder if perhaps he was attempting to sabotage their efforts. She
needed to speak to Simon about it. She glanced at him. He was scowling as
Percival recited a sonnet to Lily. Or perhaps she wouldn't. April was beginning
to seem closer than she had realized.

After much debate Angelique decided to wear her midnight blue gown, for
it was her favorite. The silver ribbons Tess wound through her mistress's long,
tumbling hair brought out its copper highlights, and as she gazed at the confused
hazel eyes looking back at her from the mirror, she marvelled that she had let
things go as far as she had. This had to stop, for her own sanity. It didn't
matter who she loved. She had made a promise.

That resolution crumpled as soon as she made her way down to the grand
ballroom and found James lounging in the doorway talking with his grandmother.
He was dressed all in dark grey, and as he glanced over in her direction her
breath caught in her throat. He was magnificent.

The marquis strolled over and took her hand, brushing her knuckles with
his lips. As he straightened and looked down at her, his green eyes were
twinkling and merry. "You are breathtaking," he murmured, and kissed.
her hand again.

Angel felt shivery allover. Even when James Faring was behaving, he was
still wicked. "Where is Simon?" she queried. Out of the corner of
her eye she noted that Lady Elizabeth was pretending not to watch the two of
them, and she tried to extract her fingers from his grip.