The Earl Claims a Bride (30 page)

“Lady Railbridge!” he interrupted. “I should have known she had something to do with this. Where is she?” His voice rose angrily. “I knew I would rue the day I brought her into this house to help me care for you.”

Angelina had expected her father to be shocked, maybe even angry about what she had done, but not hostile.

“Papa, none of that is important now.”

“You give me a sack of money like this and you say it’s not important how you obtained it? You say you sold your paintings like a backstreet tradesman and you think that’s not important to me?”

Angelina’s happiness was evaporating fast and her courage was fading even faster. She didn’t know what to say except, “I don’t understand, Papa. I thought you’d be happy to be able to pay your debts yourself so you wouldn’t be obligated to the Prince or anyone else.”

“But I’m not paying them off myself, am I? You are!” he yelled. “By subjecting yourself to ruin, ridicule, and probably no small amount of danger, too. And with the things that you treasured most.”

Angelina had never seen her father so enraged. This wasn’t what she’d expected. “They were not treasures, Papa. And even if they were, you are more important than anything I have. I would have sold everything I have to keep you from going to prison.”

His hand clutched the neck of the bag so tight his knuckles were white. “I can’t imagine what madness came over you to do this. And that your grandmother aided you! I’m glad your mother didn’t live to see this day.”

“Papa, no,” she said, his words slicing like a knife through her heart. “Don’t say that. I only wanted to help.”

“Help who? I didn’t need any help!” he said, so vehemently his face shook. “The Prince agreed to pay all my debts and my daughter was going to marry an earl. An earl, by the way, who would have taken very good care of us both. What in God’s name could have possibly made you think I needed help? You are the one who wasn’t happy, Angelina. You did this for you and that captain and not for me at all.”

Angelina was astounded. Was that true? Had she done it all for herself all along? Yes, she wanted a choice in who she married, but she also wanted her father to be free of the threat of prison, free of the Prince paying his debts.

That was not wrong.

From somewhere deep inside herself she found the courage to shore up her confidence. Calmness settled over her again. Her shoulders and her chin rose a notch. “It is true that I wanted to be free to choose my own husband, but that is not the main reason I did this, Papa, and you saying it won’t make it so. I know I did this for you.”

He looked as if he was going to say something else but didn’t. He picked up his glass of port and drained it before he brought it down from his mouth. He then threw the glass into the fireplace. The shattering noise made Angelina flinch.

Her father walked out the door clutching the heavy bag without saying another word.

For the second time that day Angelina felt close to tears.

Chapter 27

What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.

Lucrece
–211–12

Harrison watched Angelina dance with yet another gentleman. He knew she didn’t like to dance, but there was something else wrong with her tonight. Her face was tight, her movements stiff. Maxwell had to be the reason. What had the officer said to her? Or done to her?

Harrison was close to winning Angelina’s heart. He was sure of that. Perhaps he had already. But he hadn’t won her. She had an irrational sense of duty to Maxwell that was driving Harrison insane. Yes, the captain needed her, but Harrison did, too.

“You were always so much like my son. You and Adam Greyhawke, too.”

“Your Grace,” Harrison said, and kissed the Dowager Duchess of Drakestone’s offered hand. He was studying Angelina so deeply he hadn’t heard Bray’s mother walk up beside him. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever given me a compliment.”

She gave him a doubtful expression. “Perhaps, and if so, don’t ever expect another.”

“After that one, another will not be needed.”

She smiled. “You know, he never would have gotten into any trouble, and would never have been as wild as he was a few years ago if it hadn’t been for you two.”

“I take full responsibility for all your son’s bad behavior, Your Grace.”

“Mr. Greyhawke must share in that, my lord. I know you and Bray recently went to see him. Tell me, how is he doing now that it’s more than a year past his tragedy?”

“It’s difficult to speak for anyone else, but we thought he seemed better.”

“Good. Have you seen Bray tonight?”

“No, but I haven’t been here long.”

“Hmm,” she said, and for some reason she pretended to be distracted for a moment. “How about Miss Rule? Have you seen her?”

“She’s on the dance floor.”

The duchess raised her eyebrows. “Yes, I thought you would know exactly where she was.”

Harrison realized too late that he had just been fooled by the duchess. “It’s hard for a gentleman to miss such a lovely lady.”

“I’m sure,” she replied. “When you speak to her will you tell her I want to see her? I want to ask her about a fan.”

“You are assuming I will speak to her?”

Her Grace smiled again. “Oh, you will.”

The duchess opened her fan and Harrison saw a beautiful white peacock with its tail spread wide. His body went still. He’d seen that fan at Angelina’s house the day she painted it. How did the duchess get it?

“This is lovely, isn’t it?” she said, looking down at the fan.

“Very,” Harrison agreed, keeping his voice level and feigning disinterest.

“It’s by the same artist who paints Miss Rule’s fans.”

Harrison had no doubt of that. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about fans.”

“No reason you should. I have a question for Miss Rule about the artist.”

So do I.

“I hear the artist also paints miniatures and mourning boxes,” the duchess continued.

Yes she does.

“If I see Miss Rule, would you like for me to tell her you’re looking for her?

“Yes, do that for me, my lord. And give my regards to my son when you see him as well.” She closed the fan and walked away.

Harrison’s body tightened. Oh, yes, he knew Angelina had painted that fan, and the duchess knew it, too. The duchess didn’t miss anything.

So Miss Angelina Rule knew how to break Society’s rules when she wanted to. But if she was doing what he thought she was, he had a few things to say to her. He knew she and her grandmother were looking for a way to pay her father’s debts, and now he knew why she was always painting.

He wanted answers from Angelina, and he couldn’t get them fast enough to suit him.

Harrison had been coming to the Great Hall for over ten years. He knew every dark corridor, every servants’ door, every nook and cranny. He intended to find a place he could talk to Angelina where they wouldn’t be disturbed.

As soon as the gentleman escorted Angelina back to her grandmother, Harrison spoke hastily to Lady Railbridge. To Angelina he said, “Come with me for a glass of champagne, Miss Rule.”

Then not giving her time to accept or reject him, Harrison touched her elbow and guided her away from her grandmother.

She stopped and lifted her arm away from his. “Excuse me, my lord, but didn’t you promise to give me time to accept or reject an offer from you before just rushing me away?”

Harrison was in no mood for this but he said, “I didn’t forget, but I have something very important to discuss with you. Would you please join me?”

She nodded.

Instead of taking her to the champagne table, he whisked her out a servants’ door hidden behind one of the large fluted columns. The corridor was dimly lit. He knew they would see a servant or two pass by them, but in all his years of sneaking young ladies out for a few kisses, he’d never had a servant say a word to them or tattle.

“Why are we going in here? Where does this lead?”

“The servants use it. Don’t worry, we’re going no farther than a few feet from the door.”

She stood under the yellow glow of a lamp. Her hair sparkled. The low neckline of her dress showed the beautiful swell of her lovely breasts, and a row of garnets hung around her neck. Her face was still tight. Something was wrong with her. But he’d find out about that later. First things first.

“I saw something tonight.”

She blinked. “Something that would be of interest to me?”

“Yes. A fan.”

Her eyes twitched at the corners, just enough to give her away. He didn’t really have to say anything more.

“There are many fans in a ballroom, my lord. Which one are you referring to?”

“Have you noticed how you call me my lord when you feel you are telling me something I won’t like?”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Her eyes searched his. There was something unreadable in hers and he was trying to figure out what it was that was bothering him. “It’s true. Why don’t you have a fan with you tonight?”

She looked down at her gloved hands and for a moment he thought she was looking at something that wasn’t there. “I don’t know. I guess I forgot to bring one.”

“You forgot, or is it that you don’t have one?”

Her lids flew up. She looked at him with her black-fringed, blue eyes. She moistened her lips and backed against the wall. “Of course, I
^____
I have plenty of fans. Why are you questioning me about this? Surely you don’t care whether or not I have a fan with me. Nor did you need to drag me into this darkened corridor to ask me about it.”

“I remember the night the duchess stopped us and was interested in your fans, and I told you she would buy them.”

Angelina kept silent. A sadness filled her eyes, and he knew for sure what she had done.

“You sold her your fans?”

“No—no.” Her chest heaved.

He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her shoulders. “Why?”

“No,” she said again, and then quickly added, “Yes, if you must know. I sold my fans to the duchess. I sold my snuffboxes, my mourning boxes. Everything else I’ve ever painted. I sold it all!”

His stomach tightened. She was too bold and daring for her own good.

“To who?”

“To who, Angelina?” he asked again.

Tears filled her eyes. She looked away and shook her head. “Most of it to a shopkeeper. The rest to the duchess.”

The thought of her going into a shop and selling her paintings hit Harrison hard. Damn, she was filled with more courage and determination than he’d given her credit for. He’d known she wanted, planned to do something to pay her father’s debts so she would be free to marry Captain Maxwell, but Harrison had always assumed that help would come from Lady Railbridge finding a private source to loan her father more money. Harrison never dreamed Angelina would sell her artwork.

“Tell me which shop and I’ll buy it back for you.”

She frowned. “I don’t want it back. Besides, it didn’t do any good,” she whispered. “It was—I thought I was helping.”

Please don’t cry
, Harrison thought. He never wanted to be responsible for making her cry.

He spoke quietly, soothingly. “Angelina, do you have any idea how much your father owes? You could never sell enough fans and paintings to buy him out of prison.”

“You’re wrong!” she said earnestly. “I did get enough. I didn’t do it by myself, I had help, but I gave Papa enough money to pay his debts.”

Harrison stiffened. How? He leaned in close to her. “What kind of help did you get?”

“A man named Bishop Worsley took the money and multiplied it by gambling.”

“Damnation, Angelina,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders. “Did your grandmother agree to this?”

“She knew about it, yes.”

“Why would you do something that risky? Why would you involve yourself with a professional gambler?”

“You know why,” she whispered softly. I wanted to be free to make my own choice. To marry who I pleased because it was my decision and not because I was being forced.”

She pushed hard on his chest, shoving him away from her. Her hands did little to hurt him but her words cut like a blade.

“This is what you have been doing. You have been painting every day so you wouldn’t have to marry me.”

“You nor anyone else I didn’t want to marry,” she said on a choked-back sob. “I gave the money to my father. He has it now.”

Harrison sucked in a deep breath. She was free now to marry anyone she wished. He shouldn’t have been surprised by what she’d done, but he was. He knew she liked to take care of things, people, and dogs. It stood to reason she would do everything possible to take care of her father’s debts, too. She’d told him she would, but he had underestimated her.

He wouldn’t be guilty of that again.

“I would have paid your father’s debts,” Harrison said.

“My father is not your responsibility. He’s mine and I took care of him.”

“And now you are free to marry the captain.”

She wouldn’t look at him. Harrison’s first thought was that he’d lost again. He’d vowed he would never fight for another lady, but he had. Angelina was worth it. And he had fought fairly. But he knew what Angelina didn’t seem to know yet. She didn’t love Maxwell.

Without further thought he took hold of her arms again and said, “I love you, Angelina. I want to marry you.”

Her head jerked up and her eyes watered again. Her chest heaved. “You lie.”

“No. You know I have many vices, little patience, no boundaries, and I ignore rules, but I do not lie. I love you. Say you’ll marry me.”

Her eyes searched his face. For a moment he thought she would agree but then she said, “I can’t.”

He winced inside. “It’s time for you to make up your mind who you love, Angelina. Captain Maxwell or me.”

It was the most difficult thing he’d ever done, but Harrison turned her loose and walked back through the servants’ door and into the ballroom.

He headed toward the exit. He loved her. He wasn’t sure he knew it until after he’d said it. There was never any doubt he wanted her. From the moment he saw her, he wanted her to be his. Now he knew he loved her and he wanted her to know it, too.