Forbidden Angel

by Sandra Lea Rice

  Fernando inclined his head slowly. Then his lips lifted at the corners. “It is never wise to underestimate one’s opponent, as I so obviously have.”

  Adrian rose. Without a backward glance, he stalked toward the door, slowing his stride as he noticed Dona Maria’s presence in the shadows. He continued on without a word.

  The morning sun streamed through the kitchen windows lighting the large room. The cast iron stove, still hot from the breakfast preparation, eased the chill from the air. Esteban drank coffee and observed with an indulgent air as Angeline and Penelope chatted together at the large table, filling bags with candy. Moments later, Dona Maria walked in.

  Angeline raised her head and smiled in greeting, her pleasure at seeing her grandmother fading as she noticed the strain around the older woman’s mouth.

  Angeline laid the bag down. “Is it Grandfather?”

  Maria’s gaze drifted over Angeline, settling on her face. “He is much the same.”

  Penelope chose a few pieces of candy and stuffed them in another bag. “In England we give gifts to those closest to us, and always a gift of money for the staff, but this is the first time I’ve felt what we do is truly the feeling of Christmas.”

  “It’s fun to think of these children finding their bags on Christmas Eve, Nochebuena, I believe.” Angeline received a faint smile and nod from Maria.

  Penelope tied a strip of ribbon around the top of one bag. “What happens tonight and tomorrow?”

  Maria seemed to relax, some of the earlier tension leaching from her face. “On Nochebuena, we have a very large feast. For those who wish to attend, there is midnight mass, or La Misa del Gallo. It means Rooster Mass, and was named such because the rooster is known as the first to announce the birth of Christ. Young children wake to find what Papa Noël has left for them. In Spain we usually wait until Three Kings Day to exchange our gifts, but we have decided to exchange them Christmas morning, as is your custom.”

  Angeline considered what she’d heard. “Three Kings Day. The three wise men?”

  “Yes, it is,” Esteban interjected, refilling his coffee from the pot on the stove. Leaning a hip against the counter, he explained, “Before going to bed, they will leave their shoes in a visible spot in the house or on their balcony, hoping when they wake there will be gifts left by the Three Kings.”

  Penelope clapped her hands. “How wonderful.”

  “Oh, there is more.” Esteban eyes twinkled as he spoke over the rim of his cup. “There will be a special dessert called Roscon de los Reyes, a large, ring-shaped cake decorated with candied fruits, symbolic of the emeralds and rubies that adorned the robes of the three kings. Somewhere inside the cake is a surprise. The person to find it will be crowned King or Queen of the casa for the remainder of the day.”

  “How marvelous.” Angeline grinned at her uncle.

  “Yes, indeed it is.” Esteban dropped into a chair and began filling the candy pouches.

  Angeline picked up another bag and a handful of candy. “There must be more. Tell us, Tio Esteban.”

  “Well, let me see,” he said slowly, his gaze shifting from one to the other. “Oh yes, there is Nochevieja, or New Year’s Eve.”

  Penelope forgot about the bags as she stared wide-eyed at Esteban.

  Esteban’s lips twitched. “There is much merry making. When the clock strikes midnight, the church bells sound twelve times. At that moment, we eat twelve grapes. According to tradition, those who eat the grapes will have twelve months of prosperity. Families and friends usually stay together for this celebration, and it can last until early morning.”

  The rest of the morning passed quickly, with Esteban regaling them with tales of past Christmases and the fun they’d had as children. Angeline could envision Philippe and her mother at such a young age.

  Yet even as she enjoyed their morning chore and her uncle’s holiday tutelage, she couldn’t help but be aware of the armed men outside who took their assigned positions.

  Later that evening, Adrian waited with Rafael, Esteban, and Frank in the courtyard. Philippe and Michael had ridden into town to gather information and were expected back at any moment.

  The sound of a horse’s hooves hitting the cobblestone, heralded Philippe’s arrival. He tossed the reins to a groom and strode swiftly toward them.

  Without preamble, he stated, “There is a large coach traveling in this direction. I do not believe it is Malcolm as they travel with a guard of men.”

  “How soon will it arrive?” Rafael asked.

  Philippe slapped his hat against his leg to rid it of dust. “Shortly. They travel with great speed.”

  “What do ya want us ta do?” Frank ran his hand through his hair, the only visible sign he was worried, and narrowed his eyes at Adrian.

  “We wait.”

  Rafael voice rose with anger. “Esteban, notify the men. Malcolm will be allowed to pass, but he will not be allowed to leave.”

  Esteban left to impart word to the men.

  “What do we tell the women?” Frank crossed his arms over his chest.

  Adrian met Frank’s gaze. “Everything, which is the best way to help keep them safe.”

  Philippe nodded in agreement. “They are intelligent women and know the dangers only too well.”

  “Where is Michael?” Adrian asked.

  “He stayed in town. The Captain thought it the best way to learn more.”

  Adrian pushed his food around on the plate with his fork. It had grown dark and Michael had not returned. He drew some comfort from the knowledge that Michael would not be up against someone of Philippe’s caliber.

  “Would one of you care to tell us what’s happening?” Angeline laid her fork down. “Do not think to placate us.”

  “No, my dear, we won’t.” Adrian gave up the pretense of eating. “Would you like to move to the drawing room?”

  Angeline’s voice rose in worry. “Just tell us. What we suspect may be far worse than what you have to say.”

  “Is Michael all right?” Penelope asked quickly. “None of you has said where he is.”

  Adrian told them what Philippe had learned, and the reason Michael had stayed behind.

  Angeline laid her napkin on the table, her hand shaking. “And no one seems to know who may be coming?”

  A commotion at the door heralded Michael’s return, then shortly he strode into the room, a broad smile on his face. “I must apologize for my tardiness, but I bring a surprise that may make up for it.”

  Penelope jumped to her feet and rounded the table toward him. Her gaze skimmed over him, her hand resting on his arm. “I’m happy you’re all right.” Once reassured of his safety, she demanded, “Now that I know you are, what is this surprise?”

  “We are, child,” Jeffrey declared as he strolled in, arms outstretched. Edward Thornby trailed behind him, his satchel clutched in his arms.

  Chapter 40

  With a squeal of delight, Penelope threw herself into her father’s waiting arms. “This is the most wonderful surprise, but how did you come to be here?”

  Jeffrey patted her cheek affectionately. “We do have business, but when Michael’s missive arrived, requesting I become a Christmas present, I couldn’t refuse. I’ve never been a gift before.”

  Penelope considered Michael. “My gift is perfect.”

  Michael approached to stand beside her. “I wanted to make this Christmas special for you.”

  It was Adrian’s turn to greet his uncle, a sense of relief filling him. “Uncle, I’m happy to see you.” Adrian clasped Jeffrey’s outstretched hand.

  Jeffrey transferred Penelope to his side and announced, “We’ve heard from Joel and Virginia. They have a son, Cortland Christopher Donnelly, and they’re all doing well.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” Adrian exclaimed. Feeling Angeline step close to his side, he automatically slid his arm around her waist.

  Angeline nodded to Jeffrey. “It’s good to see you, Lord Jeffrey.” Her gaze held a question.
“You mentioned some business?”

  Jeffrey glanced over his shoulder. “That is best told by Mr. Thornby.”

  At the mention of his name, Edward came forward.

  Adrian held out his hand, gently grasping Edward’s. “It’s very good of you to travel at this time of year, Thornby.” He could hardly contain his eagerness to hear the news. With any luck, it would be something to help them.

  “I don’t usually, my lord—travel at all, that is.” Edward’s gaze fastened on the teapot on the table.

  Rafael, noticing the attention Edward placed on the beverage, waved his hand to indicate the table. “Would you care to join us?”

  “I don’t know if I should do that.” But a look of longing etched his thin features.

  “Señor Thornby, we would be honored if you would join us. And, Lord Jeffrey, please.” Rafael indicated a chair. “But first, there is someone I wish for you to meet. He is an old friend of our family.” His arm swung to include Philippe. “May I introduce Don Philippe Montenegro? Philippe, this is Jeffrey Dennison, Lord Newbrook, and their solicitor, Señor Thornby.”

  Philippe inclined his head to both Jeffrey and Edward. “It is a pleasure, especially as I have heard much about you both from the niñas.”

  “Don Philippe has been very helpful, Uncle,” Adrian added, noting his uncle tense.

  Jeffrey gave a short bow. “You have my gratitude.”

  As everyone retook their seats, Adrian’s gaze met Jeffrey’s. “How was the trip?”

  Jeffrey responded without hesitation, clearly understanding the gist of the question. “We left quickly with no word to anyone except the house staff as to our destination, and traveled as fast as was possible. The news is just as we feared. Charles Malcolm is still alive.”

  Adrian frowned. “You only verify what we suspected.” He looked at Edward. “Please forgive my breach of manners, Edward, but may I ask what information you bring?”

  Edward’s face brightened. “Yes, indeed. In fact, I have excellent news. Stallings, the Scotland Yard agent working on your case, was successful in locating most of the other noblemen you were in conversation with the night your fiancée was murdered. They confirmed seeing a footman deliver a note to you, which verified that part of your story.” Edward shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It was far more difficult locating the footman who delivered it. Some tend to move around. The footman gave a written statement that he had delivered the note to you and it was not Lady Pricilla, but Charles Malcolm who gave it to him.”

  Edward hesitated, searching Adrian’s face for direction. Feeling somewhat apprehensive, Adrian indicated for him to continue.

  “Stallings located the footman in hospital, recovering from a brutal attack where he was left for dead. He named Malcolm as his assailant.” Stunned silence met his pronouncement. “After all the facts were laid before the magistrate and the House of Lords, you were completely vindicated and a warrant was issued for Sir Malcolm’s arrest.”

  Edward mopped his brow with a handkerchief. “Her Majesty was aware of the many other suspected misdeeds inflicted upon women at Malcolm’s hands and was more than happy with the decision.” Edward’s face split in a wide grin. “The other Lords are eager to see you again and send their regards.”

  Adrian heaved a sigh of relief. “That is excellent news, Edward. As to my marriage to Lady Angeline, what have you been able to find?”

  Edward shook his head regretfully. “That is not so easy. You are her legal guardian. With no other male member of her family of age to give consent, you will either have to wait until she becomes of age, or seek a special license, which I would advise against. That action would be viewed with disfavor and is not what you would wish for at this time.”

  Adrian scrubbed his hand across his forehead. “We cannot wait until she turns one-and-twenty. Angeline is carrying my child. I will not take the chance of having the babe born before we can wed.”

  Angeline covered her slightly rounded belly with her hands. “It seems this nightmare will never end.”

  After a quick glance at Angeline’s troubled expression, Esteban addressed Edward. “Señor Thornby, there must be something else that can be done. Are we not her family?”

  Edward thought for a moment, then responded slowly. “Lord Windsford and Lady Angeline could return to America where the marriage would most likely be recognized, but that would not help if the child is to be his heir. As to establishing you as her family and therefore giving permission, with a little time it could be done.”

  Adrian shook his head, fear for Angeline and his child tightening his chest. “I won’t risk her traveling to America in her condition. As for the rest,”—his gaze flicked from Esteban to Edward—“how much time?”

  “I will check into it,” Edward finished.

  In the ensuing silence, Esteban spoke. “Shall we move to the drawing room? We will be more comfortable there. The niñas have worked quite hard on the tree.” Esteban gestured toward the doorway. “There is a solution and we will find it.”

  Penelope slipped her hand in Angeline’s as they headed toward the drawing room. “Esteban is correct. We will find a way through this.”

  Angeline squeezed her hand in return. “I am trying to believe that. Show your father the tree. I would like to sit for awhile.”

  Penelope turned to her father with a warm smile. “Come and see our beautiful tree. On Christmas Eve we will light the candles and it will glow like a brilliant star.”

  Jeffrey curled an arm around her. “I would love to see it. Have you been enjoying yourself?”

  Penelope snuggled against his side. “We’ve learned so much, and they’ve been very kind.”

  Over her head, Jeffrey smiled at Rafael. “Thank you.”

  “De nada, Lord Jeffrey. She is a pleasure to have as our guest.” Rafael’s warm gaze scanned her face. “Her joy of the season has been good for us all.”

  Jeffrey solemnly observed the decorated tree, and then Penelope, who waited eagerly. He grinned and tweaked her nose. “The tree is indeed magnificent.”

  Penelope gave a happy little bounce. “It is, isn’t it?”

  Laughing, Rafael interjected, “Would you care for a brandy, Lord Jeffrey?”

  “I believe I would.”

  “And for you, Lord Adrian?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Adrian had witnessed Penelope’s exchange with Angeline and felt grateful for her unfailing optimism. It was one of the things he’d always loved about her.

  Frank brought Shirley in, his expression brightening when he saw Jeffrey. “I’m glad ta see ya, Lord Jeffrey. I hope you have news.”

  “We have excellent news.” Jeffrey held out a hand in greeting.

  “We?” Frank scanned the room, chuckling when he spotted Edward sitting in the corner with a cup of tea.

  In a matter of minutes, Adrian shared what they’d been told. Frank’s eyes had narrowed with the news regarding Malcolm.

  “That fool won’t live long enough ta die of old age, or even nasty away,” Frank mumbled before he ambled off to join Shirley.

  “I like him. He says exactly what he means.” Jeffrey spoke warmly, but his face revealed stress that Adrian could plainly see.

  “What’s troubling you, Uncle?”

  “Is Don Philippe the man that was married to Angeline’s mother?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “There is something about him that makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know what it is.”

  Adrian glanced across the room to Philippe, deep in conversation with Angeline. “We are all a little on edge, Uncle, but the stress of waiting will soon be over.”

  Jeffrey raised a brow. “He seems to be taking quite an interest in Angeline. I suppose you’ve noticed?”

  Adrian quickly made a decision. “Uncle, what I tell you is not known by many. Do you remember the man called El Cazador?”

  Jeffrey quirked a brow curiously. “Go on.”

  “We all felt Angeline knew more than she
was saying. El Cazador and Don Philippe are one and the same. She does not want him harmed. Although I believe she loves me, there’s something between them I don’t understand. I’ve come to respect him as a man, and I do trust him. But I, too, feel uncomfortable with their relationship.”

  Jeffrey eyed Philippe, his gaze narrowing. “Rafael and Esteban, do they know?”

  Adrian sipped his brandy. “No. I doubt they’ve even considered the possibility.”

  “Probably not, but most men would recognize what kind of a man Don Philippe is.”

  “Frank recognized him almost immediately, but again, he was not blinded by the past.” Adrian leaned forward and lowered his voice. “When Malcolm arrives, he will most assuredly recognize him as El Cazador. I’ve promised Angeline I would protect him and deny it. Frank will do the same.”

  “Even though he shot both of you?” Jeffrey asked.

  “Yes, even though.”

  Jeffrey sighed. “If this is what you want, I’ll agree. Though I must be honest, I believe in the old adage that a leopard does not change its spots.”

  Jeffrey let his attention roam. His gaze fixed on a woman standing in the doorway. Still lovely, she had to be in her mid-fifties. He was certain this was Dona Maria Elaina Cordova. As she returned his regard, he noticed the same lavender eyes her children possessed.

  She moved gracefully toward him, the soft light playing off her still smooth complexion, nearly unblemished by time. Her raven-colored hair showed only a touch of gray at the temples.

  “I was told we had company. Lord Newbrook, I believe?”

  When she spoke in her soft, melodious voice, a tingle shot up his spine. He bowed. “I am, and you must be Dona Maria.”

  “Yes.” She dipped her head respectfully. “I understand you met my sons when they were in England and offered your hospitality. I would do the same.” She lifted her chin. “I have taken the liberty of having rooms made ready for you and Señor Thornby. It would be our pleasure if you would accept.”

  “That is most kind. We gladly accept your generosity.” He found Penelope with his gaze. “It will allow me more time with my daughter. I must admit to missing her.”