“Angel!”
“Coming.” Turning on her heel, she entered the still dark room to find Mrs. Stone awake and sitting up in bed. She shut the door gently behind her and padded over to the bed.
“You should be resting,” Angel said softly. “You did not sleep much.”
A smile broke across Mrs. Stone’s lips. “Was that my nephew I heard in the corridor?”
The temptation to lie burned strong though Angel could not fathom why. “Yes, he had just come back from a morning ride.”
“He does so like his physical activity.”
“I can tell.” Angel widened her eyes and quickly clamped her lips together before turning away to fiddle with the curtains, letting in a little gentle daylight. “That is…”
“Do come here, Angel.” Mrs. Stone patted the bed beside her. “I am not the only one who needs some more sleep, it seems. You are looking quite bedraggled.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Stone,” Angel said dryly as she came to perch on the side of the bed.
“I mean no insult.” Mrs. Stone grinned. “You are quite becoming when you are all tousled, even if you could do with a little color in your cheeks.”
Angel sank onto the mattress and took Mrs. Stone’s outstretched hand. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Stone? Would you like me to request breakfast in bed? Or will you try to sleep a little longer?”
Mrs. Stone shook her head, sending little wisps of white hair bouncing about her face. “Strangely enough, I feel quite energetic. I was thinking we might do some more reading today and then perhaps spend time in the garden.”
“It is raining today, unfortunately.” As Angel knew all too well from Mr. Hunter’s damp appearance.
“Well, I am sure we can find some ways to keep us occupied.” Mrs. Stone tilted her head to eye Angel. “You know, you may have only been here a few days, but it feels as though we have been friends forever. You are just the breath of fresh air this house needs.” She leaned in. “And, unfortunately, my nephew thinks me far too old and addled to partake in anything interesting.” She dropped back onto the pillow. “He’s a good boy, really he is, but he can be a little dry at times. I blame his mother.”
“Oh?” She should not wish to know, not really. Mr. Hunter’s business was none of hers, and did it matter if he was dry? Once these two months were over, she would likely never see him again. It seemed he did not spend much time at parties or balls nor at any of the large house parties in the country.
“She was rather inattentive, unfortunately, and a horrendous flirt.”
Angel pressed her lips together. She was not unaware of her own reputation for being a flirt. And it was true. At least to an extent. She thoroughly enjoyed male company, but more than that, she simply enjoyed fun. And according to society that made her just about the most incorrigible flirt out there.
Though, at least she understood now why Mr. Hunter was so immune to her charms.
“She has brought a lot of problems to the family and still does sometimes.” Mrs. Stone released a lengthy sigh. “Reuben spends much of his time having to deal with her messes. Not to mention all of his sisters. Sweet girls, and all married now, but never easy…”
Well, at least Angel could say she was innocent of leaving messes. She had never flirted with any married man or done anything untoward. The steady guidance of Minerva always helped temper her fun-loving nature. It was funny, though, because she did not think she’d ever been grateful for her sister’s voice constantly in the back of her mind reminding her not to create scandal.
“I do think if he found himself a lovely girl, he could at least share his worries.”
To find a wife, one had to actually be polite to ladies. She doubted his stern brow and taciturn manner did much to charm the ladies, not that Angel would tell Mrs. Stone that.
“I am sure he will find a wife soon enough.” Angel patted Mrs. Stone’s hand.
“A girl like you would do wonders for him.”
Angel rose from the bed and tweaked the blankets. Considering Angel was not exactly an expert at holding in her opinions, Mrs. Stone still managed to surprise her with her unapologetically frank manner. If the statement did not cause a riot of discomfort inside her, Angel would be applauding her.
“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable, my dear.” Mrs. Stone’s gaze sharpened. “I would have thought you would find it amusing, the idea of marrying a man like my Reuben.”
“Oh yes, it’s very amusing.” Angel forced a light laugh. It should have been and yet… Angel frowned to herself. That man—and her reaction to him—was strange indeed. The sooner she got control of this situation, the better.
Angel moved around the bed to plump up the pillows behind Mrs. Stone and help her sit up a little farther.
“You do look tired, dear. Why do you not go and get some rest? We will not be eating for a few hours, and I think I might sit and read for a little while.”
“Are you certain?” The sparkle in Mrs. Stone’s eyes made her stomach bunch, but a yawn escaped her before she could hold it back. She did indeed need a little extra rest.
“Yes, yes.” Mrs. Stone waved a hand. “I will be no trouble, I promise.”
“Very well, I shall check on you before breakfast.”
Angel left the bedroom and headed to her own room, picking up her pace when she went past Mr. Hunter’s room. She did not need to see him again, especially before taking some time to rest. If she did, she feared she’d spend the entire time picturing him all wet and half-clothed. She shook her head to herself. What the devil was wrong with her?
Chapter Six
Straightening his cravat, Reuben marched briskly through the corridors of Kinden House toward the breakfast room, the speed of his pace mostly dictated by his fear of running into Angel.
No, not fear. That made him sound as though he had been cowering in his room since meeting her in the corridor. Yes, he had found his thoughts occupied by her while he bathed and dressed, but he was not scared of her. He simply did not need any more conflict, and for some reason, she created a lot of it, even if she did not realize it.
Why the devil he should be allowing the woman to occupy his mind so much, he did not know. If he were merely dwelling on the idea that she was not suited to looking after his aunt and he was not certain he could trust her, that would be well enough.
For some bloody reason, it had been the way her hair was mussed around her face, and then there was that little crease in her cheeks from sleep, and how pink her cheeks were, how full her lips looked in the morning light.
A flourish of heat rolled through him, and he clenched his jaw. Being under the same roof as her had been a hasty decision driven by…well, by that damned Cartwright. But it would give him the chance to keep an eye on Angel.
Angel…
He should have stuck to formalities, but now her name was fixed in his mind. He sighed and pushed through the door to the parlor room. If anyone was incorrectly named, it was her.
A thump echoed through the house. Reuben stilled in the next corridor and frowned. He tilted his head and listened as another muffled thud rang through the house. He waited and, sure enough, another thud followed. He could hardly claim to know the servant’s routines, but he could not fathom what they should be throwing around to make such a noise.
Striding up the corridor, he stopped outside the door to the library. Another thump confirmed his suspicions that this was where the noise was coming from. He eased open the door and pushed his head through. The library was small by some houses’ standards, but bookshelves spanned all four walls, even the one broken up by three long windows. Books were crammed onto thin shelves between each window and also stacked on the windowsills. Reading had been his uncle’s passion, and there had rarely been a day when he’d seen him without a book in his hand.
These books were precious to Mr. Stone.
And at present, dozens were scattered all over the floor. He scowled and scanned the room then closed his eyes briefly wi
th a faint groan.
“Aunt, what are you doing?”
The pale figure sheathed in a white nightgown twisted to eye him, leaning precariously back off the spindly ladder. His heart nearly jumped out of his throat, and he hastened forward to stand beneath her.
“Good morning, Roo,” Aunt Jean said cheerfully, apparently unaware or uncaring of the danger she put herself in. If she fell, she could very well break something or worse.
“You need to get down,” he said with far more patience than he felt.
“I will in just a moment.” A book went flying past his face and thudded against the floorboards, throwing up a cloud of dust and spilling open so that the fragile pages splayed out.
“Christ,” he muttered to himself. Some of these books could be old and worth a fortune, and his aunt was throwing them around like a child kicking about leaves in the autumn.
“What was that, dear?”
“I said, do you not think you should come down, Aunt?”
“I must find this book first.” She started muttering something to herself while running her fingers along the spines of the books on the top shelf.
Reuben eyed the determined old woman and weighed his options. He did not dare climb the ladder and stand behind her as he doubted the wood would take both of their weights. He did not think he could grab her forcefully without doing any damage either, nor would his aunt be too impressed. His only option was to remain at the bottom of the ladder and hope if she fell, he could react quickly enough to catch her.
Another book went flying, barely missing his foot. He darted aside and shook his head. “Perhaps throwing the books is not the best idea,” he suggested.
“Then how will I know which ones I have already looked at.” His aunt pressed a finger to her lips, leaving her clinging to the ladder with one bony, frail hand, and a cold shiver ran down Reuben’s backbone.
“It was one with a red spine,” she murmured.
Another book crashed down.
He blew out a frustrated breath. “Aunt,” he tried again, but she ignored him and flung another book down.
How had this happened? Why was she even alone? And in a state of undress? Damn it all, he knew Angel was not suited to this job.
“Where is Angel?” he asked, hardly managing to suppress the annoyed note in his voice.
“Oh, she’s resting,” his aunt said airily as she reached for another book.
Heart in his mouth, Reuben braced himself to leap into action. She balanced on the step with one foot while she reached for a book, fingers outstretched.
“Why do I not look for you?” he suggested.
“No, only I know what I’m looking for.” She snatched the book and pulled it out before peering closely at the spine then casting it onto the growing pile of books to the side of the ladder.
Behind him, the library door creaked open. He turned to view Angel stepping into the room, looking neat and tidy and perfectly pressed in a pale purple gown. “What is—” Her mouth dropped open. “Oh dear.”
“Yes, oh dear,” he said tightly.
Angel stepped into the room and came to stand at his side, craning her neck to view his aunt. “Mrs. Stone, what are you doing? I thought you were going to stay in bed and read.”
“Yes, well I could not find the book I wanted.” Aunt Jean tutted and pitched another book to the floor.
Angel darted to one side and narrowly avoided being struck. She pursed her lips and took a step back. “It’s nearly time for the morning meal, Mrs. Stone, why do you not let me look?”
“She said she is the only one who knows what she’s looking for,” Reuben muttered.
His aunt paused and glanced down at Angel. She smiled warmly. “You are a good girl.” She made her way gingerly down the ladder, and Reuben stepped back to let her descend.
He shook his head. One sentence from the woman and apparently his aunt was going to cooperate. As if she had not been the one to let his aunt get into this mess in the first place.
“I am feeling peckish,” his aunt said brightly.
“Why do you not go and dress while we look?” Angel suggested.
He had to bite back a grunt of dismay when his aunt nodded and patted Angel’s hand. “See what a good girl she is, Roo.” Aunt Jean looked at him, forcing a response.
“I see,” he said tersely.
“It’s a red book with gold lettering,” she explained to Angel.
Angel nodded. “I will find it and bring it to your room.”
Aunt Jean gave a satisfied smile and left the library. Reuben waited until the library door was shut before turning to face Angel. Arms folded, he forced himself to take a breath. “Why was she alone?”
Angel peered around at the mess. “Well, this is going to take a little tidying.”
“Angel,” he bit out. “Why was my aunt left alone?”
“She told me to get some rest. As she said, she had decided to stay in bed and read for a while.” She lifted both hands. “I did not know she was intending to turn the library upside down.” An amused smile flickered on full lips.
Reuben glared at her, making his stare hard, mostly so he did not dwell on how tempting her lips looked when tugged into a smile.
“She could have been severely hurt. And look at the mess she created. I cannot believe you find this amusing.”
Her smile dropped swiftly. “I think your aunt is entitled to make a mess in her own house, and she told me to leave her be. What was I to do? Insist I shadow her every step? She is a grown woman, Mr. Hunter.”
Mr. Hunter. The formality bit through the air, striking him deep in the chest. He had deliberately avoided asking her to call him by his first name, thinking it would be easier to keep some distance between them if she did not call him Reuben.
Maybe it was keeping some distance between them, but he was not sure he liked it. He blew out a long breath. “You are meant to be looking after her. What if she had fallen?”
“I do not wish harm to come to her any more than you do, Mr. Hunter, but I must rest at some point or I will be no good to your aunt at all.” She folded her arms across her chest.
Reuben released his own arms when he realized she mimicked his stance. Pressing fingers to his forehead, he turned his gaze to the stacks of books. Mostly so he did not have to admire the appealing image of her stubborn chin, flashing eyes, and determined stance. Why he suddenly found an obstinate look appealing on a woman, he did not know, but there was no denying the tension coiling in his gut.
He bent to pick up one of the discarded books and leafed through it, checking for damage. “Some of these books are from the medieval era.”
“They look like they have survived. Perhaps it would be an idea to hide the ladder,” she mused. “But we cannot stop her from looking through her own books.”
He nodded. “I know.” He ran his fingers over the leather cover of the book. “I hate seeing her like this,” he admitted, the words surprising even him.
Angel put a hand to his arm, and he had to force himself to remain motionless at the unexpected touch. “She is scattered at times, but she is a content and clever woman still. I did not know your aunt before old age took its toll, but she is quite special.”
Peering at her, he struggled for a response. He’d half-expected some sort of tirade after he had scolded her for something that was not really her fault. She could not be by his aunt’s side every hour of the day, he did understand that, even if he let his frustration get the better of him.
Angel saved him a response and dipped down to gather a couple of the books. “Let’s get this straightened, and then we can eat.”
“Yes.” The word came out slightly strangled. Few people surprised him. Ever. Lady Angel Templeton was something different, however. Perhaps he had misjudged her.
He paused as he collected more of the discarded books. “I have little idea which book she was looking for.”
Her smile turned wry. “I suspect she will have forgotten about it lat
er.”
“Of course.” The words came out hollow. He was not sure he was going to enjoy these daily reminders his favorite aunt was going slowly addled.
“She likes gothic novels.” Angel waved a book at him. “If you spot any of those, keep them aside.”
Reuben blinked at her. “She does?”
Nodding, her smile grew. “We read two last night, and now I keep thinking I’m going to see ghosts at the windows or be haunted by my dead love.”
“You have a dead love?”
She laughed. “If I were in a gothic novel, I would have at least two I am certain!”
He felt the smile twitching the corner of his lips and quickly tamped it down. Despite his doubts about his first impression of her, he should remain cautious. The news from his friend in London was enough to make him wary. There was no doubt Angel was an intelligent lady with a charming manner. The chance that she was simply using his aunt existed, and there was still that uncertainty as to why she had taken on the role of lady’s companion.
Reuben climbed the ladder with a handful of books and placed them carefully back on the shelves.
“My sister would love this library,” Angel commented.
“Oh?”
“She adores books of all sort, especially older ones.” She passed up a book and their fingers brushed. A tingle sent the hairs on the back of his arms standing on end. He swallowed and focused on putting the book back carefully, but when he turned back to get the next book, he saw her flex her hand.
Damn it all, she had felt it too. What the bloody hell was going on?
“Are you close to your sister?” he asked and hoped she did not hear the strangled note to his voice. If they could just talk about light matters, maybe he would not have time to dwell on the enticing view he had of her from up on the ladder.
“In a way. We are extremely different.” She handed up several more books. “And there are a few years between us, but with two brothers, we often had to join forces.” Her lips curved. “She’s always tried her best to look after me, even if I did not wish her to.”
“She sounds like an excellent older sister.”
There Are Plenty More Dukes in the Sea (The Inheritance Clause Book 1) Page 5