“She also knows you have no hunger for her money. As do we all. It was an easy decision for her to make.” Mr. Ellis eyed him. “I would have thought you would be glad to have this put in place.”
“I am, Mr. Ellis, really. I am just surprised. I imagined I would have to spend a few more years protecting my aunt’s finances before she agreed to such measures.”
“Well, now you no longer have to worry about the safety of your inheritance,” joked Mr. Ellis.
Reuben ignored the quip. He had enough money of his own, but if he could ensure men like Cartwright did not get another penny, he’d be grateful.
“I’ll be in touch once I have spoken to my lawyer.” Reuben went to stand and paused at the sound of a floorboard squeaking outside. No doubt one of the servants was snooping, but it didn’t really matter. If news that he would soon control his aunt’s finances spread to Cartwright and any other potential swindlers, he would not mind.
He stood fully and offered his hand to Mr. Ellis.
Now that was dealt with, he had a much bigger task at hand. He had to ask Angel if he could court her.
Chapter Eleven
Angel felt the blood run from her face down to her fingertips. She curled them into fists and moved away from the study door as she heard the men concluding their business. She tucked herself into an alcove and tried to take slow breaths that were all hot and spiky. When she spotted Reuben and the lawyer leaving the office, the warmth returned to her face—this time like an inferno had been lit underneath her.
No wonder he had not welcomed her arrival here. No bloody wonder. He was hoping to get his hands on his aunt’s inheritance. And now he practically had it by the sounds of it.
A bitter taste sprung up in her mouth when the lawyer’s laughter echoed through her mind. Now you no longer have to worry about the safety of your inheritance.
Reuben’s voice had been softer so she had not been able to hear his response, but he made no denials, she was certain of that.
Angel pressed a hand to her chest and tried to rub away some of the ache that gathered there. What a fool she had been. Taken in by his gruff looks and increasingly charming manner. Goodness, he probably did all those early morning rides in not enough clothes just to addle her mind. And it had worked. After that kiss…She rubbed her chest harder but the pain still lingered.
After that kiss, she had been thinking all sorts of foolish thoughts. After all, she was due to leave soon. Her commitment to Mrs. Stone would be fulfilled within the week. She’d planned to explain her task to Reuben and hoped he would be open to her coming to visit regularly—and perhaps seeing her in London. And then maybe…
She clapped hands to her cheeks. What a silly, silly girl she had been.
The only reason he had been so nice to her had been because he realized he could not scare her away. Maybe he even intended to slowly seduce her, ensure that she was pliable when he gained control of his aunt’s finances. She snorted. And here she was thinking Mr. Cartwright was who she needed to be defending Mrs. Stone from.
Well, she had some time. If she understood the conversation properly, Reuben wanted his lawyer to look over the papers. If she could persuade Mrs. Stone to put a stop to this, perhaps all would not be lost.
Her return home would have to be delayed, however.
“Angel.”
The deep timbre of his voice sent a traitorous thrill through her. She jumped away from the wall as Reuben strode toward her.
“Oh, do excuse me.” She waved a hand and dashed away from him, taking the steps two at a time until she reached her bedroom. She barreled in through the door and slammed it shut.
Hands to her stays, she drew in a few deep breaths. She would have to avoid being alone with him lest he figured out that she understood his devious plan. She was no practiced liar, but so long as she remained at Mrs. Stone’s side, it would be all right, she reckoned.
Angel eyed the letter on her desk. Usually Minerva would be the one sending letters but this time it was from Seth. Apparently Minerva was still away from home having not yet completed her task. But she could not worry about that right now. Nor could she think on the fact that Seth had not quite received the yes he needed.
Or the fact the Duke of Norwick looked likely to propose to a Lady Emma very soon. Seth had begged her to make haste home as soon as her task was finished to ensure the duke remembered his darling sister.
But the duke did not matter anymore. Not when Mrs. Stone needed her.
Angel sat and pulled out a piece of paper and plucked up a ready-sharpened quill. She scrawled out a quick letter, explaining that her stay would be extended here and to tell Theo and Mr. Barton. There was no way of expanding on her reasons, but hopefully her brothers would not be concerned. It sounded as though they had their own problems to think on anyway.
She blotted the scrawl, folded and bound the letter, then stood. Her heart dropped down to her toes for the second time that day when she glanced out of the window and spied a familiar top hat. Of all the people to visit, did it have to be him?
Lifting on tiptoes to view Mr. Cartwright fully from her window, she clenched the letter hard. She was in no mood for dealing with another swindler.
Letter in hand, she marched downstairs and handed it to one of the servants, requesting it be posted today. By the time Mr. Cartwright had reached the front door, Angel was ready, arms folded across her chest.
Mr. Cartwright grinned as he handed the butler his hat. “Well, I did not expect this sort of a welcome. Did you miss me?”
“Like a headache,” Angel said coldly.
“I am certain that is not true.” He glanced around the empty hallway. “Where is the guard dog?”
Angel frowned.
“The nephew. He is usually here nipping at my heels.”
She lifted her chin. No doubt the only reason Reuben had such a dislike of this man was because Mr. Cartwright wanted what Reuben wanted. Goodness, they were both despicable. She almost preferred Mr. Cartwright at this point. At least his deviancy was obvious.
“I do not know.”
Mr. Cartwright’s smile expanded. “Did he find you too intimidating? Could he not handle a beauty such as yourself?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do such words ever work on women? Because, Mr. Cartwright, I must tell you, they do not work on me.”
“Give them time.”
The drawing room door opened, and Mrs. Stone thrust her head out. “I thought I heard you, Mr. Cartwright. Will you not join me for a quick repast? I am taking a break from the warmth of the day.”
“Have you been painting again, Mrs. Stone?” Mr. Cartwright asked, his face warm and his smile almost genuine-looking.
What a snake he was. Angel would need to think of another way of getting rid of him. She doubted tea on his lap would work again. Perhaps she could faint, and Mrs. Stone would have to fuss over her. She grimaced to herself as Mr. Cartwright settled into his usual chair. No, he would probably relish the opportunity to play some sort of dashing hero, and Mrs. Stone would like him even more.
“I shall fetch some more lemonade,” Angel offered. She had never done so much fetching and carrying in her life, but it would give her a moment away from Mr. Cartwright’s watchful gaze and time to think on how to rid Mrs. Stone of him.
She returned with a pitcher of lemonade and paused outside the door. Apparently today was the day when everyone revealed their secrets behind closed doors. Mr. Cartwright muttered something about an investment, and she heard Mrs. Stone reply with her interest. Angel clasped the handle of the jug so tightly that it shook in her hands. This was not good at all. Mrs. Stone was going to hand over some money, to be sure.
“Angel—”
She jolted away from the wall, sloshing a little lemonade on the floor. Her heart gave a painful spasm at the sight of Reuben. She could not let him see her like this or else she might reveal all she knew with the mood she was in. Biting down on her tongue, lest she give him a lashing with it, she thrust the lemon
ade at him, not even caring that it spilled a little on his shirt.
“Take this to your aunt,” she mumbled before fleeing away from him.
Angel dashed into the gardens and did not stop until she reached where the pristine lawns gave way to wild grass and the shade of trees offered respite from the late summer sun. Sinking down onto the ground, she rested her back against the mighty trunk of one of them and pushed fingers into her hair.
Mr. Cartwright had to go. She tilted her head back and looked up at the leafy branches, spreading their way across the sky. She was no fool. Well, she had not thought she was anyway. When it came to love, perhaps she was. But in other areas, she was not. There had to be some way she could ensure Mr. Cartwright never saw Mrs. Stone again.
Once he was dealt with, she would also have to deal with the issue of Mr. Reuben Hunter. She rubbed at the aching spot in her chest and forced herself to take several deep breaths. He would not be so easy to deal with. Mrs. Stone adored him and…
Angel bit down on her bottom lip. Blast. And Angel had thought she was in love with him.
She swiped angrily at the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Now was not the time for tears but action. If she could send Mr. Cartwright away, that would be one less pressing issue to handle. But how would she do it? What would appeal to him? Women? Money? Prestige.
She allowed herself a small, slightly pathetic smile. She had an idea, but it would take some money—all she had left most likely. However, it would be worth it.
Chapter Twelve
Reuben watched his belongings being loaded onto the carriage from the drawing room window. The drawing room where he’d assumed Angel might be. He’d tried the library too, and the gardens first thing. Somehow—and for some reason—he had not managed to steal a single second with her since deciding it was time to leave. Perhaps she thought him a cad, kissing her then fleeing. But, damn it, if she had a problem with him, surely she would say something? Angel was hardly one to hold her tongue after all.
He’d have to do another search of the house. She and his aunt had to be somewhere, but for some reason, he kept missing them.
Spotting the butler in the hallway, Reuben followed after him. “Have you seen my aunt and Lady Angel, by any chance, Smith?”
“Out on the lawns, sir. Partaking in a spot of archery.” The butler lifted an eyebrow. “Be careful if you step outside, sir. A few arrows have found their way into places they should not.”
Reuben shook his head. He could just imagine Aunt Jean shooting off arrows all over the place, and Angel likely encouraging her. Despite the danger, the image summoned a smile to his face. Suffice to say, Angel had brought more smiles and laughter to this house than he thought possible. Hell, even he was smiling at something that would have had him frowning deeply indeed not long ago.
Keeping a wary eye for stray arrows, he made his way around the house to the long stretch of lawns behind it. His aunt and Angel were near the far end, shooting toward the trees and wild grass that circled the house. Clouds filled the sky, some edged with gray, so both women wore pelisses—his aunt in a dark purple, and Angel in a vibrant pink. His gut clenched at the sight of her even though she was barely more than a speck on the horizon. Today he would declare his intentions. He was done waiting for a second to get her alone. If he had been unable to pin her down over the past two days, he would have to demand a moment with her.
He marched toward the women with a determined stride, jaw clenched. His gut knotted so tight he wasn’t sure it would ever untangle.
Except, maybe, if Angel agreed to be courted.
Still, there was no going back. He was set on this course now, and he was nothing if not determined. He’d never met anyone like Lady Angel Templeton, and he’d known enough women to understand he would never meet anyone like her again. He had to make her his.
He winced as he drew close, and Aunt Jean shot off an arrow that flew way past the target and landed in the grass. Angel nocked her arrow while he approached.
His aunt gave a broad smile and waved vigorously when she spotted him. “Roo!”
Angel turned, bow and arrow in hand. Her gaze narrowed.
Reuben drew in a breath. His conclusion had to be right. She was angry at him for kissing her and not declaring anything. Or maybe just angry at him for kissing her in general.
“I am nearly ready to leave, Aunt,” he said, his gaze lingering on Angel.
The fresh, slightly chilly air had left her cheeks pink. Or perhaps that was her fury. It was hard to tell. At present, he reckoned she was sending pretend arrows his way with her gaze, and he felt them burrow beneath his skin.
It didn’t stop him wanting her with every painful breath he took, though. Even if she agreed to be courted, time apart was going to be agonizing.
However, as much as he had realized he might not need to take life so seriously, this was one thing he would do right. She was the sister of a marquis and a respectable lady. He’d be damned if he messed this up.
Well, anymore than he apparently already had.
“We will miss you, will we not, Angel?” Aunt Jean gave Angel’s elbow a nudge, and Reuben kept a wary eye on the end of the arrow as it jolted.
“Indeed,” she said tightly.
He swallowed hard. “Aunt, I was wondering if I might have a word with Angel?”
“Oh, of—”
“No.” Angel lifted her bow, the arrow aimed directly at his heart. “I am afraid I am quite busy at the moment, Mr. Hunter.”
He opened his mouth and closed it. He was a Mr. again. What the hell had happened?
“Angel—” he tried once more, but she turned and let the arrow loose. It landed directly on the bull’s eye, but she barely waited a moment before nocking another arrow and aiming it.
His aunt gave a little shrug. Reuben observed Angel for a moment. He could not force the woman to talk to him, especially when she was holding a weapon, but this was far from over. If anything, he at least deserved an explanation as to why she was so furious with him.
“I shall leave you to your archery.” He gave Angel a dip of his head. “But I shall be leaving within the hour. I hope you shall see me off, ladies.”
“Of course, my dear.” His aunt gave his hand a squeeze. “Goodness, how we shall miss you.” She held up a hand before he could give any excuses. “But you are a busy man, I know. And I have the lovely Angel here who looks after me so well.”
Angel ignored them both, letting loose a second arrow that struck nearly as true as the first. He rubbed a hand over his jaw and blew out a breath. He could only hope she decided to bid him farewell. Perhaps he would write her a note and pass it to her and at least be able to explain himself that way. He supposed that was the problem with falling for a woman like Angel.
She was utterly unpredictable.
Reuben headed back to the house as the steady thwack of an arrow hitting its mark faded. A lady like Angel was likely used to suitors bowing and fawning over her. Reuben had never been one of fawn nor bow, but he’d certainly welcome a chance to prove to her that he was genuine in his affections.
He paused by the rear of the house and rested a hand against the weather-worn stone, curving his fingers into the gritty texture. Who did he think he was fooling? Genuine in his affections. He made a face at his reflection in the nearest window. He loved her. That woman had worked her way under his skin and made his blood sing. Even now when she was furious at him. She had turned him around and upside down and made him entirely uncertain of everything, and yet he loved her.
Maybe he even loved her more because of it. His solid plan had been pierced at the tip of her arrows and shattered. But maybe that was no terrible thing. His plans had certainly never won him the heart of a woman before now, and Lady Angel would take more than a simple, curt request to court her to be won over.
Nodding to himself, he straightened and marched into the drawing room. Sitting at the table, he drew out a leaf of paper and began writing.
/> Dear Angel…
No, that would not do.
Dear beautiful Angel…
He winced.
Good Lord, he was terrible at this.
Angel…
Better. Brow furrowed, he wrote until his hand cramped. Blotting the ink, he took one last look at it and folded it up small enough so that he could easily pass it to her without his aunt taking notice. He was certain his aunt would approve of their affection, but he could do without any comments from her. It was not everyday a man sacrificed himself on the altar of dignity.
The letter still tucked into his palm, he lingered in the hallway while the last of his belongings were strapped to the carriage. His aunt joined him just as they finished.
“Where is Angel?”
Lord, he hated the desperation in his tone.
“She said she had a headache and went to lie down.” His aunt grimaced. “I am sorry, Roo Roo.”
And she must have escaped upstairs via the servant’s stairs—just to avoid him. There was no hiding his disappointment. He would not even be able to pass her the letter. Perhaps he would save it and post it instead. Or something.
“Give her time.” Aunt Jean patted his arm. “I shall speak with her.”
“I have little idea quite what I have done to offend her, Aunt.”
“If women were easy to understand, men would not enjoy the challenge of winning us.” Aunt Jean smiled. “She shall come around, I am certain. Give her a little time, and she shall miss you terribly.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “After all, it will not be long before we see you again, will it?”
He shook his head. No. He wouldn’t give up on Angel—on this. He’d never felt a thing like it, and he was certain she felt the same. Whatever it was causing her to avoid him, he would conquer it in time.
“There’s my boy,” murmured Aunt Jean.
He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Be good. Do not get her into too much trouble.”
His aunt affected a shocked look then chuckled. “I will try.”
As he climbed into the carriage, he peered up at her bedroom window. His throat tightened when he spotted her there, looking out into the distance. He could not look away for all the world. Did she have to be so damn beautiful? So bloody confusing? So excruciatingly enchanting? Being apart from her was going to kill him, especially knowing she hated him for some reason.
There Are Plenty More Dukes in the Sea (The Inheritance Clause Book 1) Page 9