Forbidden Angel

by Sandra Lea Rice

  His gaze met Angeline’s. “Father is very weak but he insists he will wait no longer to see you. Do not expect him to say he is sorry, niña, for that is not his way. But I believe he has many regrets.”

  Angeline closed her eyes and drew in a slow, calming breath. “I don’t understand how he could just let her go and do nothing. What kind of a person does that?”

  Maria’s soft, firm voice interrupted. “He is a man who has worked his entire life to build this family. Without his leadership and determination, we would not be what we are.” Her chin lifted.

  “At all cost? Is that what you’re saying? Whatever the cost, the end justifies the means?” Angeline thumped her own chest with her fist. “I am one of the costs, Dona Maria, and my mother was another. Ask me if the price was worth it.” As she felt her composure crumble, Angeline covered her face with her hands, refusing to let them see her distress.

  Adrian gently grasped her wrists and brought her hands away from her face. “Easy, my love. I know you’re angry, but do not say something you might later regret.”

  Esteban laid a hand on her shoulder. “Angelina, please give us a chance. You will see we are not so bad.”

  At the sight of tears glistening in her grandmother’s eyes, Angeline felt a sudden rush of remorse and sympathy for the woman who had also suffered. “I am sorry if I hurt you.”

  Maria tipped her head in acknowledgement, still gripping Rafael’s arm.

  In an obvious effort to lighten the stress, Esteban lifted Angeline’s chin and a smile slowly played at the corners of his mouth. “We are to have a guest for dinner tonight, Angelina. I did not know he had returned. But as you asked about him, I thought you might like to meet Don Philippe Montenegro.”

  Angeline’s pulse raced. Struggling to compose her expression, she forced herself to answer calmly. “I would like that, Tio Esteban, very much.”

  Angeline had no idea what to expect when she finally met Don Fernando Cordova. Of all the ways she’d pictured him, not one of them had prepared her for the man reclining on the lounge near the window. His hair, mustache, and goatee were white. Once a tall man, his body now appeared frail and ravaged from the illness that consumed him.

  His faded gaze found her and his eyes widened. “They told me you resembled your mother, but not to what extent. Please, come here so I might better see you.” He held out a thin hand and motioned her closer.

  Angeline moved forward until she stood beside the chaise. Skin like thin parchment stretched tightly over his prominent cheekbones and straight nose. His shallow breaths came in uneven gasps, followed with frequent fits of coughing.

  He had the unblinking watchfulness of a hawk focused on prey. Angeline gathered her courage and met his gaze.

  Fernando tilted his head to the side. “You are very beautiful, my dear, just as your mother was. You have her eyes and face, and I hear you also possess her temper.” There was a long, silent, sizing-up moment. “I was told your name is Angelina. May I call you that?”

  Angeline slowly inclined her head. “Yes, Don Fernando.” As she accepted the frail hand he extended, she was surprised at the strength that still remained.

  Fernando stared at her, an unspoken challenge in his eyes. “I realize you must have many questions, as your mother chose not to tell you about us.”

  Angeline jerked her hand free. “There was nothing to tell. We were her only family as you had chosen to disown her.”

  Adrian started forward but was stopped by a staying hand from Maria.

  “You are right, of course, but she willingly threw all of this away,”—Fernando gestured with his hand—“and—”

  He stopped in surprise as Angeline leaned over him.

  “She threw?” Angeline’s voice rose. “You threw her away, and in doing so you threw me away as well. Do you wish to add your great-grandchild to the list of things you are willing to sacrifice?”

  “She gave me no choice.” Fernando’s voice rose, anger and pain mixing. “She chose to leave with a man that was not her husband. She did that with no concern for any of us, most especially for the man she had just married, and in front of all those gathered.” Fernando’s voice broke in a fit of coughing.

  Angeline gasped and staggered.

  Adrian was at his wife’s side in an instant. “Come, my sweet. You should rest.” He caught Shirley’s attention and placed Angeline into her capable hands. After Shirley led Angeline from the room, he spun to face Fernando.

  “You were unforgivably cruel. She did not need to learn it that way.” Adrian reached the side of the lounge in two long strides, pointing his finger at Fernando. “Let me make something perfectly clear, Don Fernando. She is my wife, and I will protect her from any further hurt. One more incident such as this, and I will take her and leave. Do I make myself clear?”

  Fernando’s eyes flashed.

  “Is it clear?” Adrian repeated through clenched teeth.

  “Si, but she is not your wife, is she, Lord Windsford?”

  “Tread carefully, Don Fernando,” Adrian warned softly. With a nod to Maria, he left the room.

  Maria studied the expression on her husband’s face. “Fernando, he is not a man to trifle with. Whatever you are thinking, let it go.”

  Fernando glared at her. “Do you presume to tell me what I should do, Maria?”

  Maria stiffened. “No, of course not. I will leave you to your rest.” As she passed her sons, she whispered, “I wish a word with the two of you. Go to the study so we may have some privacy.” When they hesitated, she added, “Now.”

  Nodding, they obediently followed her to the large, book-filled room.

  She regarded them somberly. “Tell me all that has happened. Leave nothing out.”

  When they both started to speak at once, they were interrupted by Maria’s very firm, “Stop. Rafael, you begin.”

  As Rafael explained what they had been told, she sank onto a nearby chair and waited patiently as they took turns speaking. Occasionally, she gripped the chair arms to control her anger.

  Maria raised her gaze to her sons. “Have you told all this to your father?”

  “Not all. He does know about Charles Malcolm and Cazador.”

  “And apparently he knows the marriage between Angelina and Adrian is not binding.” She thought for a moment. “Do you believe Charles Malcolm might still be alive?”

  Rafael’s lips firmed. “He could be. If so, he will most certainly follow her. He will try and make his case to this family and, if possible, kill Lord Adrian. If he were to succeed, Angelina and her brother, James, would most likely fall prey to some accident in the near future.”

  Chapter 36

  Shirley pulled back the drapes in the shadowy room to open a window and allow some fresh air in. Angeline had already risen, too restless to sleep.

  “It’s time to dress for dinner, my lady.” Shirley crossed to the wardrobe and flung the doors open.

  Angeline rose from the chair. “I’ve decided to wear the silver gown.”

  Shirley studied her for a moment, then sighed. “I hope you can make peace with this, my lady. Your anger isn’t good for you or the babe.”

  “I want to, Shirley. You mentioned there being two sides to everything. I’m beginning to see it. It hurts me to say this, but what my mother did was wrong.” Angeline didn’t expect a reply. There was nothing Shirley could say.

  She lifted her arms and Shirley slid the dress over her head, fastening the hooks in the back. She’d lost weight during her illness, and even with her pregnancy, the dress still fit.

  “You look lovely. Now come and I’ll fix your hair.”

  Shirley twisted Angeline’s hair high at her crown and secured it with crystal-tipped hairpins, loosening a few curls to drape at each ear.

  “Thank you, Shirley.” Angeline impulsively hugged her companion. “You really are a dear friend.”

  Her anticipation at seeing Don Philippe again countered the worry she felt. If she were not careful with how s
he responded, she could place him at risk.

  Upon entering the room, Angeline spotted Adrian deep in conversation with the other men and started toward him.

  A movement at the veranda door caught her attention and she glanced in that direction. Her breath caught as she met the dark eyes of Don Philippe. His hair had been cut. The goatee gone, a neatly trimmed mustache remained. Dressed in black, his bolero jacket edged in silver, he appeared every bit the Spanish aristocrat she knew him to be.

  Philippe strode purposefully toward her. He bowed, and brushed a kiss over the back of her hand. “I am Don Philippe Montenegro.” Dark eyes, bright with warmth, met hers. “I knew your mother.”

  Angeline held his gaze, reluctant to break it. “I’ve heard of you, Don Philippe. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Esteban hurried forward, a broad smile crossing his face as he clasped Philippe’s hand. “It is good to see you, my friend. We have heard nothing of you in many years.”

  “It has been a long time, but I am back now.” Philippe’s gaze flickered to Angeline.

  Esteban brought Angeline forward. “You have met our niece. It is easy to see how you recognized her, but let me formally introduce you. This is Angelina Franchesca Cordova.”

  “I must correct you, Don Esteban.” Adrian stepped to a place at Angeline’s side. “She is Angeline Spencer, Lady Windsford, and my wife.”

  “I beg your pardon. In my pleasure at seeing an old friend, I forgot myself and did not think,” Esteban offered ruefully. “Lord Windsford, let me introduce Don Philippe Montenegro. He has just recently returned to Spain.”

  Angeline watched for any sign of recognition. There was none.

  “It is a pleasure, Lord Windsford.” Philippe sketched a short bow.

  Adrian inclined his head. “Mine as well.”

  “Philippe, come and meet the others.” Esteban led him to where Michael and Penelope waited with Rafael.

  Rafael came forward, his hand extended. “Welcome, Philippe. It is good to see you again.” His gaze slid to Angeline, then back to Philippe. “If I did not know better, one would almost think you knew the niña.”

  Philippe’s dark eyes scanned her face. “She is remarkably like her mother. I also knew she would be here.” His eyes signaled caution, a warning she’d already acknowledged.

  “Of course,” Rafael replied courteously.

  After Esteban made the introductions, Penelope spoke up. “I’m Adrian’s cousin, and I much prefer to be called Penelope among friends and family.”

  Philippe’s eyes creased at the corners. “Then Penelope it shall be, niña.” His gaze lifted to her hair. “In this light, the fire seems to dance, not only in your hair but also in your eyes. The name suits you.”

  Penelope blushed prettily.

  “You have not changed at all, Philippe,” Esteban said with a chuckle. “Women have always liked you.”

  Philippe turned to Michael. “It is Captain Harrington, is it not?”

  Michael dipped his head. “Yes. I’m with the United States Army.”

  “Is there a connection to Harrington Shipping?” Philippe questioned.

  “I’m surprised, Don Philippe. Not many would recognize the association.”

  “My family has used your ships to transport goods for many years. Since my return, I have been spending time reacquainting myself with the management and business of the family.”

  “Were you traveling abroad?” Michael asked.

  Angeline tensed at the seemingly innocuous question.

  “I have been many places these last years, too many to recall.” Philippe changed the subject smoothly. “How is Don Fernando? I understand he is not well.”

  A shadow of concern crossed Esteban’s face. “He grows weaker by the day. He has asked to see you, Philippe. Could you come tomorrow morning?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” Philippe’s gaze returned to Angeline. “You look lovely in your mother’s dress.”

  Her brows lifted in surprise. “You recognize it?”

  Philippe smiled. “But of course. When she wore that gown I thought the stars in heaven must have fallen from the sky to surround her. But she outshone even the brightest of them. As do you.”

  Angeline flushed in response as she caught Penelope’s muffled, “Oh, my.”

  “May I escort you to the refreshment table for some iced fruit punch? If the sweet drink is as I remember, you will find it quite delicious.” Philippe held out his arm. Without hesitation, Angeline slipped her arm through his.

  When far enough away so as not to be overheard, he murmured, “Have you recovered well, niña?”

  “The healing was difficult, and I tire easily, but for the most part, yes. I am recovered.”

  Philippe lowered his voice and bent his head close to hers. “I should have stayed with you and not left.”

  Angeline flicked her eyes to the others and back. “We both know that was not possible. Had they found you, they would have killed you.” She met his gaze directly. “I want to thank you for protecting me from Malcolm the way you did. If you hadn’t—”

  Philippe’s usually bright eyes clouded. His lips formed a thin line. “I placed you in harm’s way and I am most sorry for that.” He stepped to the table, poured some punch into a glass, and offered it to her, his eyes once again flat and clear.

  “But you didn’t know what kind of man he was,” Angeline reasoned.

  “Niña, it is I you do not know. What Malcolm was did not matter to me until I saw firsthand what he was capable of.” Philippe’s lips quirked. “And you were there, acting as my conscience.”

  Without thinking, she placed her hand on his arm. “I am so thankful you decided to return home. I’ve thought of you often and wondered how you were.”

  He held his hands out, palms up. “As you can see, niña, I am quite well.”

  Maria chose that moment to enter the room. Seeing the two of them, she swayed as if in shock. Philippe was at her side instantly, and caught her arm to steady her. A slow smile lit her face as she gazed at him.

  “Philippe, it truly is you.” She touched his face.

  “Si.” He bent and kissed her cheek.

  Esteban was also at her side. “Are you unwell, Mother?”

  “It was seeing Philippe again, and with Angelina.” Maria swiftly gathered her composure. “I believe dinner is ready. Please, shall we all go in?”

  Angeline felt Adrian’s hand cup her elbow. “Shall we?”

  Dinner consisted of three types of meat and fowl and a combination of vegetables. There was a casserole of fish in a cream sauce and bowls piled high with fruit still plentiful in the southern regions of Spain. Assorted cheeses filled another plate. A light dessert pastry infused with honey and nuts rounded out the meal.

  “The Christmas season is fast approaching.” Maria’s gaze swept everyone at the table. “It is my hope that you will share it with us.”

  “This is the first year without my father.” Angeline spoke quietly to Adrian. His hand covered hers in a comforting gesture. She leaned toward him. “And it will be our first, together.”

  He met her gaze in warm communication, then caught Maria’s attention. “We would be happy to spend the holidays here, Dona Maria.”

  “Gracias, Lord Adrian.” The meal completed, Maria rose and the men came quickly to their feet. “If you will excuse me, I would check on Fernando. There is liqueur on the side bar for those of you who wish it.” She addressed Philippe. “Will you come tomorrow?”

  “Si, I will be here.” Philippe rested Maria’s hand on his arm and escorted her to the dining room door. “Until tomorrow.”

  A fire burned brightly in the large hearth. Adrian had stepped out to smoke while the other men relaxed with a drink. With Penelope and Shirley visiting quietly, Angeline wandered to one of the French doors and gazed up at the stars. Although beautiful, she missed the Texas sky.

  Philippe joined her. “Angelina, I have something that was to be your mothe
r’s. I would very much like for you to have it.” He held out his hand.

  Her breath caught at the beautiful necklace lying in his palm. Made of silver, the delicate filigree glittered with diamonds set at different points. It seemed too fragile to wear. “The stars in the sky,” he said softly.

  “Philippe, it is absolutely beautiful. The work is truly exquisite, but I cannot accept it.”

  “If you do not, then it will stay in its velvet bag forever.” He showed no signs of relenting.

  She let the shawl slip from her shoulders and presented her back for him to fasten the necklace in place. She sensed his hesitation, and then the gentle touch of his finger on her birthmark.

  “An angel’s kiss,” he whispered.

  “My mother called it that, too. She said an angel kissed my neck when I was born.” She pivoted and was surprised to see a flash of pain in his eyes. It disappeared almost immediately.

  “Your name—Angelina—of course.” Philippe drew in a huge breath and straightened. “The necklace is beautiful on you, as I knew it would be.” He settled her shawl in place. “You must not catch cold, niña.” Dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead, he stepped back. “I must leave, but I will see you tomorrow.”

  Angeline touched the necklace with her fingers. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Through the window, Adrian noticed Don Philippe approach Angeline. The sight of him placing a necklace around her neck, then adjusting the shawl on her shoulders in a protective manner, made his blood heat in anger. When the older man kissed her forehead, Adrian wanted to pummel Don Philippe with his fists. But he would not embarrass Angeline in that way.

  The gift had stunned him. Even more astonishing was the fact she’d not objected to either the necklace or his kiss and seemed to hold a fondness for Don Philippe. Whatever was going on, he would put a stop to it. Crushing the cigarillo with his boot, he opened the door and stepped inside.

  Chapter 37

  The ormolu clock on the mantle chimed seven times. Angeline raised her eyelids a mere slit and peeked at the window, now bright with early morning sun. It promised to be another clear winter’s day.