Forbidden Angel (8 page)

Too aroused to sleep, Adrian descended the first flight of stairs toward the dining room. Although he’d thought of Angeline often throughout the years, she now invaded his dreams at night and the very air he breathed during the day. Her scent, the shimmer of her hair in the light, the soft, lilting sound of her laugh was like a drug, one he needed to survive. If he’d refused to acknowledge his need for her before, he no longer could. He wanted her desperately.

He found Joel leaning against the wall, waiting.

“What are you doing here?” Adrian growled as he strode by.

“I thought you might need some company. May I buy you a drink?”

“Make it coffee. I doubt I’ll sleep anyway.”

“Coffee it is.”

The dining room was all but empty, the lights dimmed for the few remaining guests who sat, conversing quietly. Adrian sank into a chair against the wall and leaned back, waiting until his brother-in-law had taken the seat next to his.

After a few sips of coffee, Adrian blew out a long breath. “William asked me to consider marrying Angeline. I’m not unaware of her feelings for me, but I believed them to be only a young girl’s infatuation.”

“You
believed
them to be? She’s a woman, Adrian, and knows her own mind.”

“So it would seem.”

“What are your feelings for her?”

Adrian hesitated before responding. “My feelings are complicated. How can I offer her a life with a man who some believe killed his fiancée in a fit of jealous rage? I couldn’t subject a wife and children to that. But at the same time, I can’t let her go.”

“That is something to discuss with her, Adrian. I assume she’s aware of it.”

A shadow fell across the table and Adrian glanced up. Every muscle in his body tensed.

“Windsford. It’s been a long time.” Charles Malcolm stared down at them, a look of snide satisfaction on his face.

“I wondered when you’d show.” Adrian didn’t rise, nor did he invite Charles to sit.

Charles’ face flushed at the affront. “I’ve come for what is mine.”

“And what would that be?” Adrian’s hands tightened into fists.

“Lady Angeline Ashley. She is to become my wife,” Charles announced. A triumphant smile lit his smug face.

Rage erupted within Adrian and he fought the urge to fling himself at Charles. “Leave now while you still can.” His words sounded all the more ominous for their softness.

“Threatening me changes nothing. I would have thought that a lesson learned, Windsford.” Charles rolled back on his heels. “I plan to return to England with her. When she is wedded, and bedded,” he smirked, “she will thank the heavens I came for her.”

As Joel rose to his feet, Charles sent a quick, dismissive glance in his direction before returning his attention to Adrian. “Her quick flight here only whetted my appetite. I do so love a good challenge.”

With a roar, Adrian leapt from his chair as Joel reached out to stop him.

Malcolm stepped back out of reach. “I’ll make arrangements to collect her.”

“Do not even try,” Adrian ground out.

“I suggest you speak to Lady Angeline. In the meantime, don’t
you
try and stop
me
. I shall have her and enjoy every exhilarating moment of it.” With a nod in Joel’s direction, Malcolm strode from the room.

Adrian sank into his chair and closed his eyes.

“What is this about, Adrian?” Joel dropped into his chair. “Who is he?”

“His name is Sir Charles Malcolm. His grandfather was given the honorary title of Baronet which passed down to Charles. At one time, they owned some good farm land and a home in the country. After his father died, under questionable circumstances, Charles sold the land and went through the money quickly. Everything that wasn’t entailed was eaten up with gaming, women, and opiates. It was rumored that he was involved in all forms of debauchery. I know personally of one woman he brutalized and murdered.”

“My God.”

“Her name was Lady Pricilla Hamilton, the daughter of the Earl of Stonebrook . . . and my fiancée.” Adrian leaned back and rubbed his hand over his brow.

“We were at a ball Stonebrook had given to announce our engagement. The party was a crush, with all the best families represented. My father and Sir Harris Malcolm were friends, so of course Charles was invited. While talking with some friends, a footman handed me a note I believed was from Pricilla. She asked that I meet her in the formal gardens behind the house. When I got there, she was lying in a pool of blood from a gash on the back of her head. She’d been brutally beaten, her dress torn where she’d tried to fight off her attacker. She lived long enough to verify Charles as her assailant.”

Joel scowled. “Surely no one believed you would kill your own fiancée?”

“So you would think.”

“Why was he allowed to get away with it?”

“I was holding her in my arms, covered in her blood, when I heard a woman scream. Then Charles began shouting that I’d killed her in a fit of jealousy. He claimed she’d planned to cry off and marry him. None of it was true, but no one else had heard her name him, but me.”

Joel uttered an oath. “Why would he do such a thing?”

Adrian sighed. “He’s always had some perverse desire to have all that is mine. A few of us grew up around each other, with Charles being the eldest. He was already at Eaton when I was called up. We spent some time together, but we were not close. We both went on to Oxford but Charles had to leave early. Financial difficulties, I heard later.”

Adrian reached for a cigarillo and lit it. “He’d always shown extreme antipathy toward me, generated, I would assume, from his jealousy. I was the son of an Earl, a viscount in my own right and my family held an old and respected title that went back nine generations. We had accumulated a substantial fortune, with lands and well-cared-for estates. I was also building quite a nice personal fortune through investments. My father was highly respected in Parliament and I was set to follow in his footsteps.”

Adrian drew on the cigar, letting the smoke out slowly. “Women vied for my company and I had entrée to all the best gatherings. Not so with Charles. Even then, he was a womanizer and his treatment of them well known. No father who cared anything for his daughter would let him near her.”

Adrian snuffed out the cigarillo. “I went after Charles in front of everyone and threatened to kill him for what he’d done. He claimed my loss of control was another example of my murderous temper.”

“Was this why you left England?”

“Partly. Under normal circumstances, they would not arrest a lord of the realm without absolute proof. Understandably, Stonebrook was very distraught at Pricilla’s death, and wanted justice. I wasn’t even allowed to attend her funeral. Out of concern, my father booked passage for me to America.”

“But if they didn’t formally charge you with her death, why have you stayed away?”

“I’d never set a foot wrong, never once done anything to bring disgrace to our family name. I knew from the beginning what my responsibilities were. I studied hard and learned everything I could, from politics to managing the estate. I knew all our tenants by name. And then . . .” Adrian shrugged helplessly. “It sounds lame, but when Pricilla died, so many people that should have known better, stared at me as if I was some monster.”

“You were young, Adrian, and grieving. Perhaps that wasn’t what they felt at all,” Joel suggested. “Did you ever resent having your life so dictated?”

“Resent?” Adrian thought for a moment. “No. I felt pride in myself, my family. But I found a freedom in America I never imagined existed.”

“Your father died. What of your title?”

“The title passed to me, as did my inheritance. My uncle agreed to manage things in my absence.” His mind drifted to England. “All of our tenants have been there for generations and are trustworthy. Spencer House in London is shut up, with just a caretaker in residence. The same is true at Windsford Hall.”

Adrian rolled the coffee cup in his hands, then shoved it away. “Jeffrey’s a good man and has managed my interests quite well, but he grows older and I’m asking a lot of him. Truth to tell, I’ve shirked my responsibility in England for the thrill of building something entirely new, something of my own and not what was handed down to me. In England, I have the responsibility of maintaining, and hopefully increasing, what others of my family before me have built. Here, it is what a man can envision and build with his own hands.” He glanced at Joel. “I’m not unaware that many would love to be in my position.”

“The title didn’t go to your uncle in your absence?”

“No. It doesn’t work that way. He is my uncle through my mother’s side. Only the male line inherits. My father and grandfather before him had no brothers. Neither do I. If I die without producing a male heir, the title will be lost and the entailed property will revert to the crown.”

“So, what will you do?” Joel lit a cigarillo, blowing the smoke into the air.

“It’s time I return to England and, if possible, prove Malcolm’s duplicity.”

“You could also marry Angeline and produce an heir,” Joel pointed out calmly. “I don’t suppose you would find that a hardship, and marriage would solve both your problems.”

Adrian absently tapped a finger on the table. “I believe Michael will ask for her.”

“Is that what you want?”

Adrian paused. “No. It’s not. But like most women, she’ll want love in the bargain. I can’t promise that.”

“Then tell her the truth, all of it. She’s a smart woman and obviously cares for you.” Joel leaned back. “If you want my advice, I would talk to her soon. It doesn’t appear there’s much time.”

Malcolm climbed into the rented hackney and tapped on the roof with his cane. All of his hard work might come to naught, and all because of Adrian Spencer. The chit had fled. He’d had to take what modest funds he could raise and chase after her. The cards had not been kind to him lately and he was, again, in dun-city. His creditors were after him. If he wasn’t careful he would end in debtors’ prison, or deported to the continent. And, if the cent-per-centers caught up with him before he had the money, he would end up floating in the Thames.

It had been an absolute stroke of luck when Lady Longhaven sat at his table to play cards. Good fortune had indeed been his when the game was whist. She was known to be a terrible player. With a little encouragement and a few glasses of wine, she’d lost heavily.

A walk out onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air, another glass of wine—this one laced with a touch of laudanum—and she had signed the note without questioning what was on the paper.

And then, when an accident had claimed both Lord and Lady Longhaven, leaving no one to dispute his claim, his plan had seemed so very simple.

Windsford! How Charles hated him. Adrian had everything, everything that should have been his. If his brainless twit of a mother had only married Elliot Spencer when she had the chance, instead of his weak and useless father, all would be different.

Charles had bested Adrian once and he would do it again. He would have the lovely Angeline, and everything else for which he’d planned so carefully.

Adrian relaxed in the swaying carriage, and eyed Angeline thoughtfully. If she believed he offered marriage only as a way to protect her, she would hie off to England as soon as she attained her twenty-first year. Although he’d threatened, he wouldn’t be able to stop her. Pride, and a misguided belief in the emotion called love, would not let her accept anything less.

Passion, he could promise her, and fidelity. But, love, well . . . that left one vulnerable.

He would give her the protection of his name, children, and anything else that lay within his considerable means.

He’d cared greatly for Pricilla, but there’d been no risk of falling in love. Their union had seemed the perfect match, one that would have advanced both his plans and goals and her desire to become a countess. She’d been a biddable, somewhat timid woman, and he’d wanted to make her happy.

Although Pricilla had indicated some reluctance to sharing the marriage bed, Adrian had considered her lack of enthusiasm just maidenly jitters, and planned on siring quite a few children by her. While she was busy having his children and acting as his hostess, he would press forward with his political career.

With Angeline, the attraction was different. She was vivacious and innately sensual. He’d never been as driven or as lustful for any woman. Inordinately beautiful as she was, having children with her would be a natural consequence of his unquenchable desire for her. Her response to his caresses had been full of passion and augured well for their future.

If she refused his offer of marriage, he would use passion to entice her into his bed and into marriage. The risk lay in his ability to avoid falling victim to that passion himself.

Angeline leaned back against the soft squabs of the carriage and surveyed Adrian through her lashes. The kiss last night had both surprised and thrilled her. From the look on his face, he’d been as shocked as she at her response.

His gaze met hers. The corners of his mouth lifted as if discerning her thoughts. She glanced away, suddenly occupied with the passing scenery and the plucking of a nonexistent speck of lint from her gown. Beneath the clatter of the horses’ hooves she heard him chuckle.

Well, two can play at that.

She tipped her head and sent a heavy-lidded look in his direction. When she swept the tip of her tongue along the edge of her upper lip, his eyes narrowed. The smile he sent her promised retribution. She thrilled at the thought of what that reprisal might entail.

Although her plans had not changed, what harm could there be in a light flirtation? Admittedly, she found his about-face suspect, but she enjoyed the delicious feelings he could invoke with just a mere touch. And his lips . . . Her face heated at the memory.

They arrived to find other carriages and buggies lining the long drive to the Johnson house. Many were already parked beneath the huge shade trees that dotted the grounds. Guests wandered through the gardens, visiting with each other and sipping various types of beverages.

Instead of the stigma of attending a wedding in black or gray, Angeline chose a gown of sprigged muslin. Tiny blue flowers lined the neckline and hem and perfectly matched the confection of blue cornflowers encircling the brim of her straw bonnet.

Adrian offered his arm and smiled warmly at her. “You look quite charming, Angel, but then you always do.”

“Why thank you, Adrian.” She flushed with pleasure.

“I’m only speaking the truth. It would be remiss of me not to tell you.”

Hmm.

The gardens of the Johnsons’ home had been transformed into a fairyland for the upcoming event. Hundreds of lanterns hung from the large, oak trees, and continued to the lake below. The sound of music drifted through the afternoon air, adding to the hum of men and women’s laughter.

Joel and Virginia were seated at one of the long trestle tables when Adrian and Angeline finally joined them. Mounds of pork sat in a place of prominence at each table, along with bowls of vegetables, beans, various fruits and cheeses and a selection of fruit pies. Loaves of fresh bread and tubs of churned butter had been placed at each end.

“My goodness.” Angeline gaped at the feast set before them.

“Choose what you like, but you must at least taste the pork.” Adrian took a tiny piece between his thumb and finger. Leaning toward her, he placed it against her lips.

Surprised by the intimate gesture, she nevertheless opened her mouth to take the offered bite. Her lips closed around the tips of his fingers. His heated gaze locked with hers.

Virginia coughed lightly.

Her cheeks flaming, Angeline narrowed her gaze on Adrian. “You’re drawing attention to us and people are staring. You know what they will think.”

An easy smile played at the corners of Adrian’s mouth. “Let them think what they will. Tongues started wagging the moment we arrived.”

“Why should they?” Angeline asked with a frown.

“My esteemed brother never attends any gathering in the company of a woman. You can be sure public speculation is rife,” Virginia explained. “And with that small display, gossip will reach epidemic proportions before we get back to town.”

Angeline eyed him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He flashed a devilish smirk. “I would think that obvious, my dear. I’m merely stating my intentions.”

“Don’t gammon me, Adrian. We both know that is not true.”

Adrian raised a brow. “No? We shall see, my sweet.”

“I do not give a fig for what people may believe. If you think to compromise me—” Angeline began, her ire rising.

“Make no mistake, Angel.” Adrian leaned toward her, his voice lowering. “If my desire was simply to compromise you, you would find yourself flat on your back and most thoroughly and enjoyably ruined.”

Virginia gasped.

“That will never happen, my lord. And should you even
try,
you may find some of your most vital parts missing,” Angeline hissed defiantly.

Joel choked back a laugh.

“Both of you stop it this instant.” Virginia peeked over her shoulder at the curious stares of other guests. “You are drawing quite a bit of attention and I, for one, am not comfortable with it.”

Angeline sent an apologetic look in Virginia’s direction. “I am so very sorry.” She drew in a deep breath. “My father always said I had an unruly temper for a female, and a tongue to go with it. But it seems to me that if men are allowed to strut around—”

“We do not strut,” Adrian muttered.

Angeline gave a little inelegant snort. “If they can
swagger
around, boasting about their conquests and what lies beneath their breeches—”

Virginia’s groan silenced her.

Adrian again leaned toward Angeline, his eyes glittering. “And what, pray tell, do you know about a man’s private parts?”

“Enough!” Virginia almost shouted. “Now, I suggest that we finish our luncheon and talk about other things. Pleasant things.”

“What I’m thinking now is most pleasant,” Adrian proclaimed, just above a whisper.

He raised his hand in surrender as Virginia choked out, “Good Lord.”

They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Angeline refused to even acknowledge Adrian. Which did not have the effect she’d expected. Slanting him a glance, she was surprised at the calculating gleam in his eyes.

Her attention caught elsewhere, Angeline looked across the lawn at some men installing long, wooden planks. “What are they building?”

“That will be the dance floor,” Virginia explained. “You’ve never seen one before?”

“No. After my mother died, I stayed at Ashley Manor for most of the time. I did attend one or two country soirees with friends, but nothing in London. Although my father and Beth attended many social functions, I never went with them.”

“Why ever not?” Virginia asked, obviously surprised.

Angeline shrugged. “Elizabeth thought it best that I remain at home. When they first married, they entertained often, but Father asked that I stay upstairs for those.”

“Did you meet many of the guests?” Adrian asked casually.

Angeline shook her head. “Father didn’t want them around me. Later, he stopped allowing them at the house altogether. That was the only time I ever heard my father and Elizabeth have words.”

Adrian exchanged a quick glance with Joel.

Virginia held out her hand to Angeline. “If you gentlemen will excuse us, we’ll go and change for the evening festivities.” Together, they headed toward the large house where they could change and prepare for the evening.

Adrian waited until the women were out of hearing.

“I’m concerned that my youngest sister made friends with the wrong sort of people, and at Angeline’s expense.”

“You’re probably right. Talk to Michael and see if there was something said that might add some insight.”

Adrian found the suggestion of Michael being privy to more of Angeline’s life than he, quite unsettling. Suddenly, he realized how little he did know. He knew nothing of her likes or dislikes, or her favorite color.

She enjoyed riding, but did she like the theatre or art? What other types of entertainments might she enjoy? All he had were memories, and impressions based on brief encounters.

As the sun set, the candles in the lanterns were lit. A soft breeze set them swaying, and sent a show of light and shadows across the lawn. The lanterns above the dance floor cast a soft glow over the wooden planks. The moon was full, the stars bright in the evening sky, and a group of musicians played softly. Ladies in beautiful gowns, the kaleidoscope of vibrant colors adding to the gaiety of the evening, walked on the arms of men resplendent in evening wear or dress uniform.

Adrian conversed with Joel and Michael, only half listening to the conversation, as he waited for Angeline. His mind searched for possible opportunities to be alone with her, to press his suit.

About to flick the butt of his cigarillo, he froze. Virginia and Angeline wove through the crowd toward them. At his preoccupation, the other two men turned.

Virginia, tall and slender, was dressed in red. Her blond hair, now piled atop her head in an array of bright ringlets, seemed to glow in the subdued light. Joel smiled proudly and went to meet her.

But it was Angeline that Adrian could not take his eyes from. In a gown of deep gray, with an overskirt of silver tissue silk, she seemed almost ethereal as she came toward him. She would have commanded attention in sackcloth, for she had that indefinable
something
that made the eye follow her. Angeline was the sort of rare woman who carried her beauty instead of wearing it.

The gown fell in soft folds down her body and showcased lushly rounded curves. When she moved, the light from the many candles caught the silver threads and seemed to dance over her.

His gaze slid to the creamy skin and rounded fullness of her bosom, revealed by the deep décolletage of her gown. Only the capped sleeves held the bodice of her gown in place. His blood heated, his heart pounding in his ears.

Angeline’s black hair was secured at her nape in a net of silver threads and crystal beads. Deep-gray gloves covered her hands and arms. He wanted to tear them off to feel the touch of her fingers. A silver locket hung from a chain around her neck, and settled in the valley between her breasts. He longed to replace it with his lips-and would at the first opportunity.

When she stopped in front of him, Adrian almost reached for her. Instead, he bowed formally. She curtsied and smiled—a brilliant, heart-stopping smile—that almost brought him to his knees.

“You both look very beautiful.” Joel gazed tenderly at Virginia.

“Very lovely, indeed,” Michael added. His gaze traveled over Angeline, before it moved to Virginia.

“You’re in uniform this evening, Michael.” Angeline smiled warmly at him.

He nodded. “I almost always am. It would seem strange to me if I weren’t.”

The first strains of dance music drifted through the night air. Joel held out his hand to Virginia. “May I have this dance?”

“I would be delighted.” She offered a gay laugh.

“My Lieutenant is beckoning. Save a dance for me, Angeline,” Michael said, rushing off.

Adrian grinned. The Lieutenant did indeed look as if he might bolt at any moment. He extended his arm to Angeline. “Would you walk with me, or do you care to dance?”

She slipped her arm through his and paced beside him as he matched his stride to hers. “A walk sounds lovely. The grounds are so beautiful. The decorations remind me of a book I used to read as a child.”

“You could have stepped from one of Clairece’s fairytales.” He touched the nape of her neck, lightly tracing the tiny, heart-shaped birthmark with the tip of his finger.

“My mother said the mark was an Angel’s kiss.”

He wanted to run his tongue over the spot and taste her. Just then, the music changed, and Adrian bowed. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

“I don’t believe I know it.”

“It’s called a polka. The pattern is more a hop-step-close-step. Come, I think you’ll find it fun.”

Angeline took his hand and stepped up on the dance floor, uncertainty in her eyes as she observed the swirling couples.

He laughed. “Just follow my lead.”

Within moments she seemed to give herself up to the music. She laughed and unconsciously moved closer. He certainly didn’t object to her nearness, though his heart began to pound and he felt his body harden.
Heaven help me
.

“No closer, Angel, or I will most definitely embarrass us.”

Her cheeks flamed and she eased back. After a few more turns around the dance floor, Adrian took her hand and led her away.

Angeline flipped open her fan and waved it before her face. “You were right. That was quite exhilarating.”

“Come with me. It’s cooler down by the lake.”