Forbidden Angel

by Sandra Lea Rice

  “Come, Angeline.” He took her hand to lead her to a table. He stopped abruptly and shoved her behind him as a group of well-armed men rode through the arched gate and onto the macadamized drive. Long before he’d slowed his horse in the forecourt, she recognized Charles Malcolm.

  Chapter 19

  The ranch hands quickly placed themselves between Angeline and the group on horseback. Others, carrying rifles and shotguns, moved up behind Adrian.

  When Joel and Frank took positions on either side of him, Virginia and Shirley grabbed the children and hustled them inside the house.

  “You’re not welcome here,” Adrian announced curtly.

  “I came for what’s mine, Windsford. I told you I would.” The enmity riding in Malcolm’s eyes as he glared at Adrian was unmistakable.

  Adrian let the hatred and loathing he felt for Malcolm show in his face. There would be no London niceties, no rules for gentlemen in this battle. It was a war between two, old enemies, one he had no intention of losing.

  “There’s nothing of yours here. My wife and I are entertaining friends, and you were not invited.”

  “Wife? You’re lying,” Malcolm shouted angrily, startling those nearest to him.

  Adrian bared his teeth menacingly. “I assure you, I’m not. Now leave Spencer land.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Malcolm stepped his horse closer to Adrian, crowding him.

  Adrian grabbed the reins on Malcolm’s horse and jerked backward. The animal swung sideways, almost unseating Malcolm. “Then believe this. I’ve warned you for the last time. I told you I would kill you if you came near her again. This is a special day, and the only reason I don’t end your miserable life right now.”

  With wide eyes, Malcolm made an appraising sweep of the men surrounding him, gaping at the open aggression.

  Angeline moved from behind Adrian and, as she did, slipped a pistol hidden in her skirts into his hand. “As my husband has said, you have no business here.”

  The men riding with Malcolm took in the quiet, watchful faces of the ranch hands, many of whom held guns pointed directly at them. Then slowly, they placed their hands on the saddle horns and didn’t move.

  Once more, Adrian nudged Angeline behind him, allowing Charles to see the pistol he now held in his hand.

  Malcolm’s fuming gaze lifted from the gun to Adrian’s face. “You haven’t heard the end of this, Windsford. I will yet have her.”

  When Adrian started to raise the gun, Frank placed his hand on Adrian’s, pressing it to his side. “You been asked ta leave, I suggest ya do it. Now.” With a nod to the ranch hands, all guns were cocked and aimed at the intruders.

  In one motion, the men with Charles Malcolm spun their horses and rode off, leaving Malcolm alone. The raised guns now pointed directly at him. With a furious shriek, he whirled his mount and galloped after the others.

  Adrian took a deep breath and faced Angeline. “I will never let him have you. You do believe me, don’t you?”

  “I know you will try.”

  “There’s good food goin’ ta waste. Let’s get to it,” Frank shouted to the group, dispelling the tension that still lay heavily over the gathering.

  Men began to talk and laugh and fill their plates.

  “Thank you, Frank.” Adrian shook his hand.

  “Not necessary, Boss.” Frank touched the brim of his hat to Angeline and with a “ma’am” sauntered over to join the other men.

  “Whose gun is this?” Adrian asked, eyeing the weapon in his hand.

  “Mr. Bingham’s.”

  Adrian turned to find Bingham standing slightly behind them. “Thank you.”

  With a nod, the other man smiled.

  Later that night, Adrian walked down the hall to the door of his wife’s bedchamber. He tapped once and waited, not really expecting a response. Yet he reached for the knob, even as he paused to consider.

  Despite the edict he had leveled at her in anger, he would by no means force her to take him to her bed. He had never lain with a woman who didn’t want him, and he’d certainly not force his own wife. She deserved his care and protection. Quietly, he retreated.

  Angeline sat with Virginia sharing their morning tea in what had become a custom for them. She would miss this time when she left.

  She’d scarcely seen Adrian during the days following the wedding, and nothing of him at night. No matter the terms he had issued, he had not come to her bedchamber.

  “Please forgive me for asking, but how are things between you and my brother?” Virginia questioned over the rim of her cup.

  Finding it difficult to discuss anything of a more private nature, Angeline merely replied, “Nothing has changed, nor do I expect that it shall. We barely see one another. When we do, it is as if we hardly know each other.”

  “I’m truly sorry. Some men just cannot say how they feel.”

  “Adrian said he holds me in the deepest regard. He’s never said he feels more than that for me. At least in that regard, he’s been honest.”

  After Virginia excused herself to check on the children, Angeline decided on a stroll through the gardens. She glanced up in surprise when Adrian joined her.

  He regarded her for a moment. “Do you still wish to accompany me to England?”

  Relief filled her. “Yes. I must have some answers.”

  His gaze drifted over her face. “Then we shall see what we can find.”

  “And is it your plan to clear your name?”

  He inclined his head. “It is. You were right in saying I have delayed in going back, but not entirely for the reasons you think. Sometime, if you are interested, we can speak of it. You mentioned a house in London?”

  “Yes, in Mayfair. I’ll arrange a meeting for you with Edward Thornby after we arrive.”

  Adrian hesitated. There was obviously something he was reluctant to say.

  “What is it, Adrian?”

  His features were stiff, his voice tense. “What I did to you was dishonorable and most likely unpardonable, but I do ask for your forgiveness. If we are to make a life together, we must find a way through this. Although I meant no disrespect, perhaps my actions couldn’t have been perceived otherwise. My only defense is that I was motivated by my need to protect and keep you safe. Will you forgive me, Angeline?”

  She wanted to believe him and in fact, did. The problem lay in not what he had done or said, but that he would betray her to get what he wanted.

  Angeline met his gaze. “I do not mean to be cruel, Adrian, when I say I need time to consider what I do feel, and if it is possible to put what has happened behind me. I know doing so would be for the best, but knowing and doing are sometimes two very different things.”

  Adrian reached for her hand. She resisted the urge to pull away. He was correct; they had to start somewhere. She allowed the kiss to her knuckles.

  He gave a sigh of relief and some of the tension left his face. “Thank you, my dear. Your consideration is more than I deserve.” Releasing her hand, he stepped back. “I need to attend to a few matters before we leave in the morning, but I will see you at dinner.”

  “By now it must be very cold in England,” Angeline ventured to say as she laid her napkin down.

  Virginia eyed her across the table as she considered. “It’s November, so I imagine it will be. Do you have warm clothing?”

  “I have what I brought with me. That should suffice.”

  “Nonsense. I have some much warmer things packed away upstairs. They’ll be too long, of course, but Shirley could take them up for you on the trip.” Virginia folded her napkin and laid it alongside her plate.

  Adrian looked up from his meal. “I’ll see she has whatever she needs as soon as we arrive in England.”

  “Yes, but until that can be arranged, she will need a few things. If you gentlemen will excuse us?” Virginia reached for Angeline’s hand.

  Angeline could sense Adrian’s gaze on her as she and Virginia left the room.

  “We sho
uld make a list of items you will need when you first reach London. Men just never think of everything. I will bring some things to your room if you will fetch a paper and pencil from Adrian’s desk.” Virginia waved her in the direction of the study.

  Once inside, Angeline turned up the lamp and moved behind the neatly cleared desk. The first drawer she opened held only one file. As she started to close the drawer, she caught a glimpse of her father’s handwriting on a piece of paper. She hesitated for only a second before opening it.

  Inside the folder was all the correspondence her father had exchanged with Adrian throughout the years. She came to his last letter and began to read. Her father spoke of his impending death and asked that Adrian remember his agreement to become James’ guardian. He wrote of his concern for her and his fear of Charles Malcolm should she be left without protection. He asked that Adrian do all in his power to protect her.

  Then, the last statement: Should Angeline seek your aid in a matter of utmost concern and secrecy, please grant me this last wish and help her. She will need you. I have always been aware of your regard for her. Though you did not speak of it, feeling as you did that you had nothing to offer a wife, I still know that you would have asked for her hand had things been different. You are a good man and for that reason I give my permission for you to seek her hand in marriage. I do not imagine it will be difficult, as I believe the man she has had a tendre for all these years is you. Make her happy, and love her the way she deserves to be loved.

  Angeline swiped the tears from her cheeks and placed the letter back in the folder. A further foray led her to the legal documents giving permission to handle the affairs of Ashley Manor. Everything was as Adrian and Edward Thornby had said.

  Then her gaze fell to a packet of receipts tucked between the pages. One proof of payment was for the clothing she and James had purchased before their trip. Adrian had paid for everything himself. Now, she was also convinced he had personally paid for the retirement funds and grants to their old staff. She’d been right in thinking her father’s funds had been sorely depleted.

  She closed the folder and slipped it back into the drawer. When the file wouldn’t slide all the way in, Angeline reached behind to see what blocked it. Carefully, she pulled a folded piece of linen from the back. Her heart constricted as she recognized the tiny scrap of cloth.

  Although wrinkled and well worn, she wasn’t mistaken. Angeline held in her hand the handkerchief she’d given Adrian three years ago. Silently, she replaced it. The next drawer held the paper and pencil she needed. Gathering the items, she left to join Virginia.

  The next morning, a party of outriders accompanied the travelers to Houston where they would catch the train to New York. Once safely aboard, their escort would immediately return to the ranch, allowing no time for anyone to question their business there. Hopefully, Charles Malcolm would not hear of their departure until long afterward.

  They arrived at the Houston station at dusk and went directly to the private state car where Michael awaited. He hurried them inside while the luggage was being loaded. Velvet draperies covered the windows, cocooning them inside. They left within the hour.

  Although the trip to New York seemed endless, in reality the journey was accomplished very quickly. They were transported from the train station to the dock in relatively short time, and ushered aboard. When the anchor was raised and the ship moved away from the dock, Angeline gave a sigh of relief. She was headed home, hopefully to find some answers.

  “I don’t believe Malcolm knew we were leaving for England, however, he has surprised us before,” Adrian said to the others gathered around a table in the saloon.

  “He’ll know soon enough. We shouldn’t discard the possibility that he’s had someone watching us and has followed us on board,” Michael added.

  Angeline glanced around, expecting to see villains lurking in dark corners.

  “No one goes anywhere alone. The more time spent in our cabins, the better. This may seem extreme, but a person can disappear at sea and there would be no proof of any foul play,” Michael cautioned.

  Adrian nodded. “I agree with Michael. I’ve seen men go overboard and there was no way to save them.”

  “Where should we go when we land?” Shirley asked. Both she and Frank had been included in the discussion.

  It was Adrian who responded. “Charles would most likely think first of Ashley Manor or Windsford. He might even check at Spencer House on Berkeley Square, so we have decided on Angeline’s house in Mayfair.”

  “He doesn’t know of it?” Michael asked.

  Angeline considered the question. “I wouldn’t think so. I didn’t even know until after Father’s death, when Edward told me.”

  “I’ll contact my uncle from there and let him know we’re in London.” Adrian rose. “Frank, will you see the women safely to their cabins? I have a couple of things to discuss with Michael.”

  “Sure, Boss. I don’t care for this rockin’ under my feet. I’ll be happy when we get there,” Frank mumbled, as he ushered the two reluctant women from the room.

  “I owe you an apology, Michael,” Adrian said, after the others had gone and they had retaken their seats. “You are my best friend and I acted reprehensively.”

  Michael waited, saying nothing.

  “I knew you cared for Angeline.”

  Michael did not deny it.

  “And still, I—”

  “Do you love her, Adrian?”

  “It’s not that easy. I’ve seen what love can do to otherwise sane men. Love nearly destroyed my father when Mother died. And my Uncle Jeffrey has remained single for years since he lost the woman he loved. He’s never so much as glanced at another lady.” As he spoke, Adrian reached in his pocket for the silver case that held his cigarillos, offering it to Michael.

  Michael waved them away. “You haven’t answered my question.”

  Adrian lit the slender cigar. “My sister almost beggared William, and do you know how? Because he so desperately loved Angeline’s mother that after she died, he tried to ease his sorrow with Beth. Beth knew it and used his grief to get what she wanted. Why would I choose that for myself? Why would any sane man?” Adrian inhaled, then released the smoke slowly.

  “Given the choice, no man would. But, then again, we aren’t necessarily sane when in love. Do you find Angeline so very hard to love?”

  Adrian let out a long breath. “No. Loving her is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Denying it to myself has been the hardest.”

  “I thought as much, which is the only reason I didn’t beat you senseless after you seduced her. Do you really believe any of those men would have traded even one minute of the time they had with the woman they loved in hopes of remaining immune to the eventual loss?” Michael shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  “Oh God, Michael. I’ve made such a mess of my relationship with Angeline.” Adrian raked his hand through his hair.

  “Yes, you have. But she loves you, Adrian. I do not believe it’s too late to make it right.”

  Adrian slumped in the chair. “Perhaps once, but I’m afraid I may have destroyed whatever feelings she had for me.”

  “You underestimate her,” Michael pointed out. “You always have.”

  Adrian met his friend’s sympathetic gaze. “If anything happens to me, protect her and take her back to Joel and Virginia.”

  “I think it best if we make certain nothing happens to you.”

  “There’s another matter, Michael,” Adrian said. “Angeline has questions about her mother’s family. She’s only just realized they might exist. We need to talk to some of the staff from Ashley Manor and find a place to start the search.”

  Michael raised a brow in question. “What was her mother’s name?”

  “Franchesca Elaina Cordova.”

  “It’s not much of a start. Nevertheless, we’ll see what we can do with the information.” Michael rose. “I’m off to my cabin. I’d suggest that you not stay here alone for v
ery long.”

  Adrian leaned back in the chair and watched Michael depart, thankful they’d maintained their friendship, shaky though it was. He was in no hurry to retire to the cabin he’d share with Angeline. They’d not been alone since before the wedding.

  Surveying the room, he quickly rejected the idea of spending the night in a chair, and he wouldn’t air their problems by asking to bunk in with either Frank or Michael.

  He stubbed out the half-smoked cigar and came to his feet. Perhaps she would allow him to sleep on a pallet on the floor. He made his way, reluctantly, to the sleeping compartments and waited for a moment outside her door. He knocked once and stepped inside.

  The room was in darkness with only the faint light from a full moon shining through a porthole. Angeline was seated in a chair, her legs pulled up under her.

  Her long hair fell loosely around her shoulders, partially concealing a simple cotton nightgown. Her head angled toward him when he slipped inside.

  “I had nowhere else to go.” He locked the door behind him.

  When she didn’t respond, he glanced around. “I’ll sleep in one of the chairs or on the floor.”

  When she remained silent, a frisson of tension curled up his spine.

  “I will not force you. Please, never think that. Do not fear me.”

  Adrian hesitated, then shrugged out of his coat and waistcoat, laying them over another chair. Her silence deeply disturbed him. Perhaps he should have stayed in the saloon and just let people think what they would. He sighed and pulled the cravat from around his neck, dropping the stick pin on the table.

  Angeline straightened, then slid her legs over the edge of the chair, her gaze fixed on him.

  He undid the buttons on his shirt, aware that she followed his every movement. When he unfastened his cuffs and trousers to pull his shirt from his waistband, she stirred restlessly, and clamped her knees together. He became aware of the sexual tension building in the room.

  As he sank into the other chair and bent to remove his boots, slender, bare feet and a swirl of white cotton moved into his line of vision. With a snap, his head came up and he stared at her.