Until now.
Tightening his grip on the cup until the delicate china shook in his hand, he dropped it quickly on the table before he made a show of himself. He caught himself pinching the bridge of his nose again. This entire situation was untenable. He should remove himself from it as soon as possible.
“Your nephew really is a handsome fellow,” one of the ladies declared as though he was not even there. He glanced at the frizzy-haired lady who scanned his person as though he were some meat hanging in the butchers. Now he understood how Angel felt when Cartwright had insisted on doing the same to her. He fidgeted in his seat, and his gaze caught on Angel’s lips as they quirked in an attempt to keep her amusement at bay.
“Is he not the most handsome man in Berkshire?” Aunt Jean said with a wide grin. “Many a lady has hoped for him to ask for their hand, but he has yet to settle. Too much time spent escorting his sisters around.” His aunt gave a dramatic sigh. “I had so longed for children in the family before I passed.”
Reuben frowned to himself. His oldest sister had two children—though with her husband in the military none of them saw them as much as they liked. He somehow doubted his aunt was forgetting that, though.
Or at least not without purpose.
“Aunt, you know—”
“I have several granddaughters who are quite accomplished and have wonderful figures,” commented another of the ladies. Reuben had given up keeping track of who was who approximately five minutes into this affair.
“They would be lucky to have him,” Aunt Jean said proudly.
“Oh they would indeed.” One of the ladies lifted her glasses in front of her and peered at him through them. This made her eyes bug out of her head through the glass from his viewpoint, and he hardly knew where to look.
Not at Angel, whose eyes were beginning to sparkle with mirth.
Aunt Jean took a casual sip of tea. “I have yet to see a man with such bearing anywhere else. Do you not think, Angel?”
Angel blinked and straightened in her seat. She gave him a long, slow perusal, forcing him to tug on his cravat. Who thought it would be a good idea to entertain in this parlor room? The sunlight streaking in had turned it as hot as hell.
Her gaze locked onto his for what may have been mere seconds, but it felt an eternity. He glanced down to her lips where they curved at the edges. Lips that, were they not surrounded by old ladies, he might well have risen from his seat and tried to taste. He gripped the arms of his chair with both hands.
“Well?” his aunt prompted.
Angel nodded slowly. “Yes, you are right, Mrs. Stone. He has a bearing quite unlike any other.”
Reuben scowled. Now what did she mean by that?
“And he really is handsome indeed. He should find a wife before he gets too old and provide you with lots of children, Mrs. Stone.” Amusement crinkled the corner of her eyes while his aunt’s friends nodded rapidly. “We should host some of your granddaughters,” she suggested to the ladies. “They are sure to fall for him with such good looks and regal bearing.”
He tightened his grip on the chair and narrowed his gaze at her.
Aunt Jean clapped her hands together. “Oh that is—”
“Of course,” Angel continued. “You would risk a fight between all the ladies so perhaps we should not invite all of them.” She peered at the coffee table in the center of the chairs and rose. “Oh dear, we are all out of biscuits. I shall go down to the kitchen and see if there are more.”
“Just pull the bell, dear,” his aunt said.
“I won’t be a moment.” She snatched up the almost empty plate as one of the ladies reached for the last biscuit, hardly giving up a second to grab it before it was taken away. “Will you help me, Mr. Hunter? I would not wish to drop any.”
“I—” He took a second to gather himself and not become lost in those wide, innocent eyes. He coughed and stood. “Yes, of course. I would hate for those, um, biscuits to fall foul of an accident.”
He dipped his head to his aunt’s friends and hastened after Angel. She set down the plate on the side table in the hallway and blew out an audible breath.
“Oh goodness.”
“And here I thought you were having fun,” he said dryly. “At my expense.”
“Well, it was a little amusing, but your aunt’s friends are quite the handful. And to think I thought I had rambunctious friends.”
“I would have thought they would need to be to keep up with you.”
Her lips pursed but her eyes remained twinkling gemstones of amusement. “You really have me marked as quite the unruly woman, do you not, Mr. Hunter?”
“I think you quite like the label.” He inched closer, forcing her to lift her chin to meet his gaze. “I think you would loathe being called boring.”
“For someone who has only known me a short while, you certainly do declare to know me quite well, Mr. Hunter.” She folded her arms in front of her chest, and he could not help drop his gaze briefly to eye the swells of her breasts that were framed perfectly with tiny stitching on the neckline of her yellow gown.
“I think you can call me Reuben now. After all, I know you quite well.”
“Not Roo? Or Roo Roo?”
He lifted a brow. “Not if you want an answer.”
She tilted her head. “Reuben,” she said experimentally. The sound of his name on her lips gave him more pleasure than it should have. “You know, you believe you have me all figured out, but I do not think I understand you.”
“What is to understand?”
“Well, my first day here, you were ready to have me flung out of the house and sent back to wherever I came from. But now…now you are being practically nice to me! It is quite strange indeed, Reuben.”
“Believe it or not, I am capable of being nice,” he said, aware his tone had turned gruff due to her proximity. “And I am actually usually a good judge of character. Perhaps…just perhaps I misjudged you, Angel.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. When her gaze locked onto his and he saw the darkening of her pupils, he knew he should never have admitted such a thing. Yes, he had misjudged her, and yes he liked her now, but that did not mean she was not entirely wrong for him. Hell, he still didn’t understand why she was here. Maybe it was all one big game for her.
Except any hint of amusement had gone. It grew difficult to breathe, each inhale and exhale felt weighted with anticipation. He leaned closer, just an experiment, but she did not move back. He couldn’t fathom how or why, but she wanted him to kiss her.
And he’d be damned if he could deny her a kiss.
Reuben put a hand to her cheek, a featherlight caress. He heard her inhale. Tracing a path down, he curved his hand around her neck, never breaking eye contact. As he moved closer, her lids fluttered closed. He savored the image of her lashes fanning across her cheeks briefly before—
A crash followed by a scream came from the drawing room. He jerked back, and Angel’s eyes flew open.
“Oh no!” She dashed into the drawing room before he’d even managed to get his thoughts straight.
He followed her in, his palms clammy to spot his aunt clutching her hand, blood welling between her finger tips. A broken cup sat nearby.
“Reuben, do you have a handkerchief?” Angel demanded.
He swung his gaze to her and nodded. “Yes.”
“Then give it to me!” She thrust out a demanding hand.
Reuben tugged the handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. Angel made swift work of binding what looked like a deep cut and urged his aunt to hold her hand in the air.
“This will help the bleeding slow,” Angel explained, while his aunt’s friends fussed and squawked and generally got in the way. Which was how he was feeling right now.
In the way.
Angel had already taken care of anything and was now uttering soothing words to Aunt Jean.
“I think we need a doctor, Reuben. Can you send for one?” Angel asked.<
br />
He blinked and nodded. “Yes. I’ll go myself.”
He stole one last look at Angel clasping her aunt’s hand and stroking her hair. Yes, he had to admit it. He’d been entirely wrong about Lady Angel Templeton.
Chapter Nine
“Mr. Barton, whatever are you doing here?” Angel eyed the spectacled lawyer whose eyes were shadowed by dark patches and his clothes were rumpled, presumably from the journey here.
He gave a brief smile. “I am visiting to ensure you are still here and fulfilling your task.”
Angel motioned to Mrs. Stone, who was currently sunning herself on the front lawns. “As you can see, I am still here and looking after my charge to the best of my ability.”
Mr. Barton glanced briefly at his feet. “I had, um, heard that Mrs. Stone had an accident. That her hand was cut.”
A swirl of tension tied itself around her stomach. She took a breath in an attempt to relieve it. What if Mr. Barton thought it was her fault? What if this was it? She had failed, and her siblings would never forgive her.
“That was an unfortunate accident,” she said cautiously. “Shall we take a walk about the gardens?”
“Mrs. Stone will not mind?”
“We will not go far, and she does so love to show them off.” Angel waved a hand at the gardener. “Mr. Higgins can keep an eye on her for a moment, but I suspect she will be sleeping for another hour or so.” She eyed the lawyer. “I am not certain how I shall explain your presence, however.”
“You can say I came with news from your brother,” he suggested.
“And have you news? Has Seth found himself a wife yet? Had Minerva finished her task? What of Theo?”
Mr. Barton tugged at his cravat. “I cannot say, I am afraid. You are welcome to write to them, but I am not allowed to interfere in any way. If I told you of them, it could be construed as such.”
She let her shoulders sag. Hopefully her siblings were doing well. Minerva would surely not fail nor would Theo. Seth had to be her biggest concern. It would be simple enough for him to find a wife, but he was easily distracted. Still, if she could manage—and even enjoy—looking after Mrs. Stone, Seth could settle into a marriage.
Angel led Mr. Barton around the gardens, showing him the ancient yew trees and the walled garden. “I do not have much to tell you, Mr. Barton,” she admitted. “I have been looking after Mrs. Stone, and she has been pleased with my performance.”
“What of Mr. Hunter?”
Her heart gave a little jolt at the mention of his name. Silly girl. They had not really had a moment alone since that near kiss and the disaster that had seen his aunt harmed. She wondered if he considered that her fault, but he had not said as much. Surely he would have taken the time to scold her if he had thought so?
But she could not help wish they had snatched a moment together. Just so she could see…
Well, she was not certain what it would reveal, but at least she would understand that near kiss better. Even now, she recalled the touch of his fingers on her neck and how his azure eyes had dug deep, deeper than any duke or other titled gentleman had ever been. Certainly they all flirted with her, and the Duke of Norwick often sent naughty little looks her way, but none had ever looked at her like that.
The lawyer stopped in the gateway that led back to the house. “Mr. Hunter is staying with his aunt, is he not?” he prompted.
“Oh, yes. He is.”
“And why is that?” Mr. Barton peered at her intensely over his spectacles.
She pursed her lips. What could she say? She was not positive she wanted to reveal that Mr. Cartwright was trying to swindle Mrs. Stone. It might make her look terrible that she had not prevented the man from being around at all.
“I am not certain, Mr. Barton. I think he felt his aunt needed the company.”
“And not…the protection?” Both greyed eyebrows rose.
“Mr. Barton, do you really think an old lady needs protection from me?” Angel pressed a hand to her chest.
“I have been the family lawyer for many years, my lady. I know you well enough by now. Working as a lady’s companion was intended to be a test, and as much as I want to see you succeed, I must ensure I fulfill my job properly and with care. If Mrs. Stone is in any danger, it is up to me to make sure no harm comes to her.”
Angel blew out a breath. She knew she had a reputation as being a lively girl, but this was ridiculous. Did people really think she would fail so badly that an old lady might end up hurt or…or dead?
“Please believe me when I say that I have been playing my role to the best of my ability. Mrs. Stone enjoys my company very much. You need only ask her. I have been working hard to ensure she is well-looked after and her every need is catered to. I swear it, Mr. Barton. I would not wish for harm to come to her any more than you would. I…I like Mrs. Stone a great deal.”
Mr. Barton’s gaze searched hers before he finally nodded. “I believe you, my lady.”
She let a smile spread across her face. “Thank you, Mr. Barton. It means a lot.”
It really did. There were few people who believed in her ability to do anything other than flirt and dance. It was an odd sensation really—this sort of pride that filled her and made her want to stand taller. She, Lady Angel Templeton, had gone to work and survived. And not only that, she had made an old lady extremely happy.
“Well, as everything is well, I shall leave you to it, my lady. So long as all goes smoothly, I shall anticipate a meeting with you in London after your time is up.” Mr. Barton tipped his hat.
“Are you to visit my siblings?”
He nodded. “Though I will not be visiting with Lady Minerva. She only needs to come to me when she has completed her task.”
Angel nodded. The fact that Minerva was travelling made things difficult. Angel was no letter writer, but she wished she was able to contact her somehow. Just knowing how she was doing would make things much better. Now she knew Mr. Barton was happy with her progress, her thoughts turned to her siblings.
“Please tell them I am thinking of them.”
He smiled. “Of course, my lady.”
Angel watched the lawyer until he vanished around the garden wall. It was a good thing that he had visited. She had been able to show how well she was doing, and so long as Mr. Cartwright did not cause any problems, all would be fine.
She bit down on her bottom lip. Lord, she hoped he did not cause problems.
Shaking her head to herself, she walked back to where Mrs. Stone still snoozed in the late-afternoon sun. The lady opened her eyes as Angel approached and narrowed her gaze at her as she sat up.
“Who was that gentleman? Did he not wish to stay for tea?”
Angel shook her head and seated herself in the chair next to Mrs. Stone, closing her eyes briefly to savor the gentle warmth of the sun touching her skin. With bees buzzing around and the fragrance of lavender suffusing the air, she had to admit, Berkshire was not the tiresome, dull place she thought it would be.
Very well, perhaps it could be considered dull, but she was discovering she did not mind dull—for a while. She was not certain that if it was not punctuated with a few parties she would survive a lifetime of this, but another three weeks would be easy indeed.
Goodness, only three more weeks. Three more weeks of Mrs. Stone’s companionship, and quiet, lazy afternoons, and painting, and reading, and paddling in the stream.
Three more weeks of Mr. Hunter…
“He was my brother’s lawyer,” Angel explained. “He wanted to let me know my brother had travelled home.”
It was not a lie as such. Theo had indeed gone home—a rarity for him. Even so, she did not much like telling falsehoods to Mrs. Stone, not after she had been so kind to Angel and was still recovering from that ghastly cut on her hand.
“Ah,” was all Mrs. Stone said.
Angel closed her eyes again. She supposed once all this was done, she could tell Mrs. Stone the truth. She probably would but not before telling
her how lovely her company had been and how much she had learned about herself. Perhaps she was not wholly changed, but she had gained the ability to put others’ needs before her own.
Oh dear, she hoped Mrs. Stone was not upset when she left. She would have to arrange to see her on a regular basis.
Of course, that would mean seeing more of Reuben Hunter, an excited whisper told her.
The afternoon and evening proved to be quiet and uneventful. Angel could not decide whether that was a good thing or not as she retreated to bed. It gave her far too much time to mull things over. Whatever would Minerva think, seeing her mull things over. Angel could not recall the last time she had mulled things.
As she tossed and turned in her bed, her mind raced to the visit from Mr. Barton to how her sisters were doing to what would Mrs. Stone think to realize this job had been more than a mere job to her. Angel sat up sharply and pressed both hands to her cheeks.
What would Reuben think? She suspected he might have changed his mind entirely about her, but when he realized she had taken this job to ensure she got her inheritance, he would think poorly of her once more. She was not sure she could stand that.
Huffing, she flung aside the bedsheets and shoved her feet into slippers then stuffed her arms into her robe, letting the ties hang at either side.
Since when did she care what anyone thought? She stomped across the bedroom and lit a candle to take downstairs. Creeping through the house, she made her way to the library and lit a few more candles. Books towered above and around her, cocooning her in the scent of leather and dust. She might have no inclination to read them, but she was starting to understand why Minerva found such comfort in libraries.
The golden candlelight created an amber glow that danced about the room. Already, she could feel her worries quelling. She supposed she ought to pick out a book so she at least looked like she was reading. Not that she had an audience.
What the heck was wrong with her?
Shrugging, Angel climbed the slim ladder and plucked up a book with a red cover. Perhaps it was the one Mrs. Stone had been after all those weeks ago. Still standing on the ladder, she flicked it open and read the blotchy scrawl inside. No declarations of love or anything affectionate unfortunately. How dull.
There Are Plenty More Dukes in the Sea (The Inheritance Clause Book 1) Page 7