“You didn’t tell me about her. You let me think you cared...that, mayhap, there was a future....” She shook her head. “Was any of that true?”
Her distress brought a grimace to his lips. “I have come to care deeply for you, Angella. I just didn’t know what to do about Margaret. I never considered the possibility that she might come here before I found a way out. Truly, I planned on confronting the situation.”
“When? And what about your faith? Is it real, or just something to satisfy me?”
“Bother, Angella. I am well aware I’ve played the fool. I know I’ve hurt you deeply, and for that I take full blame. But I have not lied to you. I did not tell you all the truth, but my caring is real. My faith is real, too.” He shrugged. “I needed time. You needed time to see what the future held for us. I did not want to make another mistake.”
He allowed her to search his face as he continued. “You were right about faith, Angella. Because I have someone outside myself to go to with my problems, this coil with Margaret has been much less difficult to handle than it might have been. Truth to tell, had I not felt sorry, rather than furious, at Margaret, I would not have put up with them this long.”
His arms tightened about her. “I’ve been trying to come up with some way to break this infernal betrothal without causing scandal. In the process, I hurt you, Angella, but what am I to do? I cannot marry that woman. She would never remain faithful to me long, and her brother... He is addicted to gambling, as well as to assorted other vices, one of which you are well aware.”
“Yes, I know. I wanted to tell you. Harry told Margaret she must press to get the marriage settlements signed, because he’s under the hatches so severely he fears he’ll be in Fleet soon if you don’t bail him out.”
“Again. So that explains this surprise visit. I should have figured, since Margaret has been hinting at it all week. Of course, I wasn’t about to fall for that, not when I was looking for a way out.”
They were silent then, and Angella leaned against Spensor, wishing she could stay beside him, but knowing she must return to her own room. “I...can’t stay here. But where can I go?” Angella shook her head
“I’ll not permit Herbert to touch you again. Thank the Lord for that cat. Bother Herbert anyway. Never took him for that type. Not even with Harry’s careful coaching.”
“He... Herbert said they told him I wanted him. I don’t think he realized I didn’t... When the cat attacked, Herbert got very angry.” She cringed and hid her face against the earl. “It was awful. The way he grabbed and kissed me. The...the way he touched me.”
“Angella.” It was a groan. “I can’t. I won’t permit you to return to your room with Herbert about. There is just no way to predict what he will do, especially if those two set him up. Stuff and nonsense!”
“I know,” Angella whispered. “Margaret feared you would not marry her as long as I was about. She said she wanted to find someone to marry me. I suppose she thought if Herbert...” She shivered. “I could never... Not ever.”
“He’d be no proper husband to any woman,” growled the earl. “Only Margaret would think up such a diabolical plan. No, I’ll not give you away, not to the likes of Herbert or Harry.” Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, resting his head on hers.
“Shh. I think I heard someone.” Angella tensed, moved closer to him. She heard footsteps, then saw the handle turn.
The door squeaked as it slowly opened. Angella closed her eyes, expecting Herbert’s bulk.
Instead she smelled cloying perfume. Margaret’s scent drifted into the room ahead of her. The earl sounded amused as he greeted the woman who held aloft a thick bedchamber candle. “Good evening, Margaret. And what brings you out this night? Herbert, mayhap?”
“He said the girl came in here. Regular visitor I well imagine. I give you fair warning, Spensor. Have all the doxies you wish, but keep them elsewhere. I’ll not have them fouling my nest.”
The earl’s lips tightened. “As usual, you mistake the situation. We all know the truth of the matter. Now, if you have nothing further to add, I suggest you let yourself out of my study and hie off to bed. You had better see that Herbert stays in his. Fair warning. If he does not, I’ll see that slow-witted man put where he can no longer harm or frighten anyone.”
Margaret puffed with anger. “How dare you! Herbert is my brother. It isn’t his fault he had an accident that damaged him when he was in leading strings.”
“Your concern for him is touching. Truth to tell, Herbert is probably the best of the lot of you, but not when you use him in your games. Good night, Margaret. Close the door on your way out.”
“I’ll see Angella back to her own chamber,” Margaret suggested.
“No, she stays with me, where I can protect her from your wiles. Good night.”
Seeing there was no gainsaying him, Margaret retreated with ill grace, slamming the door behind her.
“She’ll think the worst of the situation,” Angella began.
“You’re thinking about that verse about avoiding the very appearance of evil?”
Angella nodded, surprised he knew the verse. The reference fell automatically from her lips. “1 Thessalonians 5:22. Spensor, you’ve been reading your Bible.”
He grinned. “Every day. I had no notion of all the wonderful things it contains.”
Glancing away, Angella murmured, “Oh, Spensor. Here I’ve been condemning you, while I’ve been the one neglecting my devotional time. I let fear take over. I knew He didn’t want me to run away again, but I did it anyway.”
The earl tilted her chin so he might see her face. His eyes were soft with care. “Thank you for telling me that, Angella. Sometimes I worry that I am not good enough for my little saint.”
Leaning against his shoulder, Angella whispered, “How can you say so. I’m no saint. You know my dreadful temper. But about staying with you...”
“Under the circumstances, I see nothing wrong with protecting you,” he insisted. Getting up, he lifted her in his arms. Laying her down on the wide sofa, he found a blanket that he carefully tucked around her.
Kissing her forehead reverently, he smoothed a lock of hair from her still-damp cheek. “You’ll be safe enough here. I’ll be next door in my bedchamber. The door will be locked, but should you need anything, call.”
“Margaret?” Angella yawned.
“Never mind her. I have, finally, thought of just the way to deal with her and Harry on the morrow.” The earl gently ran his finger down her cheek. At the door, he turned.
“Go to sleep, Angella. I’ll wake you up before the servants are astir and take you back to your room. No one but Margaret will ever be the wiser, and I can buy her silence.”
The next morning, after an uneasy breakfast, the earl gathered his unwanted guests together in the library. He kept Angella close by his side, his eyes on the sullen Herbert, who had done nothing more than mumble since he tromped downstairs.
Angella avoided Herbert’s gaze, focusing instead on his hastily tied cravat. Margaret’s lips turned down peevishly as she idly tugged at the sash under her ample bosom. Harry, in the first stare of fashion as always, sat back nonchalantly, his face showing his amusement. The earl wore a forbidding frown.
The room was still as the unwanted guests waited to see what the earl would say. In the silence, the fire in the grate crackled loudly. Sunshine poured into the room from the windows edged with delicate ice lace.
With dispassion, the earl surveyed the woman who had tricked him. Yet was not the fault his, as well? In his own way, he used her as she used him. His lips tightened. “Margaret, it behooves me to inform you that I acknowledge my fault in our situation. Though our betrothal was not my intention at the time, and though you forced my hand by trickery, I am willing to go ahead with our marriage.”
Beside him A
ngella gasped, her face whitened. Margaret, however, straightened. She shot Angella a glare of triumph, short-lived as the earl continued quietly.
“There are a few things we must clear up first. The first of which is that I wish you to understand I have paid off all the debts I plan on paying off for any member of your family, Margaret.” His gaze caught the outrage on Margaret’s face.
Abruptly the amusement faded from Hinton’s eyes. “You can’t do this. I need...”
“Indeed I can. I have financial responsibilities other than keeping you out of Fleet. It is long past time you stand on your own two feet, Harry. Be that as it may, I have another requirement, as well.” He cleared his throat ominously. “Herbert is to be permanently corralled.”
Margaret bristled. “I’ll not send him to Bedlam. You know what that place is like. Herbert is not mad, just a bit slow.”
“And dangerous when used in your petty manipulations.” His expression hardened.
Margaret had the grace to look away. He sensed she was irritated more by failure than by her instigation of the action. “He would do well enough for the likes of a country flirt.”
“Fustian! You have windmills in your head if you thought such a thing would succeed. Even the most reluctant of guardians would turn him down as a suitor. No title, no money and little mind. You but betrayed your own cause in this havey-cavey scheme.”
Harry glowered at his sister as though it were all her fault. “Told you it was a half-cocked thing to do.”
“Oh hush, you were willing enough to give Herbert particular instructions last night.”
In confusion, Herbert looked from one to the other. “I hurt kitty.” Sadness showed in his eyes. “Pretty Angella run away.”
“That’s right, Herbert. What you did was wrong.” The earl looked at Harry and Margaret. “If Angella had not taken her kitten to her room, I assure you, Herbert would have found himself in much worse circumstances than Bedlam. I would have seen to that.
“But I am not suggesting anything as drastic as Bedlam, I am suggesting I find him a place and a companion outside your sphere of influence. I’m certain we could find something for him to do on one or another of my estates.”
“Work!” shrieked Margaret. “How dare you. He’s a gentleman!”
The earl smiled laconically. “Work is not such an obscene word, Margaret. Honest work certainly shows more integrity than gambling...or living off one’s relatives.” His steady gaze discomfited Harry.
“Bluffing, old chap.” Harry forced cheerfulness. “Throwing a scare in us. Have it your way. Pay off and I’ll take it easy at the tables.”
“No. I do not bluff, Harry. If I marry Lady Margaret, you’ll not see one penny piece of either her income, or mine. Trust me, I shall see to it she offers you nothing—not unless she wishes to find her own allowance cut off.”
Margaret’s face reddened. “You odious blackguard. We’re betrothed. As a man of honor, you must go through with the wedding.”
“I believe I made myself clear about fulfilling my obligations. My conditions, too, are clear.”
For the first time since entering the room, the earl watched Angella begin to relax. He’d seen her bow her head and felt her prayers. When she glanced up at him, he also witnessed a look of peace and a trust in him that overwhelmed him. She was so innocent, so honest. With deliberation, he refocused on Margaret and her brothers.
“I have another solution.”
Margaret and Harry exchanged a long look. “What is it?” Harry finally asked as the earl leaned back languidly, viewing them through narrowed eyes.
“Simply this. I will pay off all Harry’s current debt, as well as offer a substantial settlement providing you, Margaret, call off the betrothal. The settlement would be large enough that, if you stay in the country and economize, you can live right well.”
Margaret frowned. “You can’t,” she choked.
“Certainly I can. It’s your choice, Margaret. See Harry in Fleet and Herbert working as a common laborer or call off the wedding.”
Agitated, Margaret got to her feet. “If I let you go, all of the ton will know it’s because of that lightskirt. If ever you try foisting her on society, she’ll be shunned.”
Vengeance sat heavy on her face.
“We’ll see that doesn’t happen.” Inwardly the earl recoiled from the woman he had once thought charming. “I shall hold Harry’s vouchers for a time. Should such rumors get about, I shall immediately call them up.” His face showed no emotion, but everyone in the room could see he meant every word. He watched Margaret’s face harden into ugliness. A string of oaths burst forth from her mouth that made Angella gasp in shock beside him and jerk back.
“Take your milk-faced doxy then. It is not as though I can’t find a more complacent husband.”
The earl smiled. “But probably not one as deep in the pockets, eh. Be that as it may, I’ll have the settlement papers drawn up. Harry, you will see my solicitor receives a list of your debts. Now,” he said as he got to his feet, “I want you all out of here within the hour.” With that, he assisted Angella to her feet, and, with his hand on her elbow, they started toward the door.
Margaret stopped him with “If she’s as innocent as you say, how do you know her feelings for you are real instead of gratitude for taking her in? She knows nothing but you. How long before a younger, eligible parti turns her pretty little head?”
Her words pieced him like a sword. Was there truth to her accusation? He glanced toward Angella and away. She hadn’t had much experience with men and what she had was not exactly positive. If she had other choices, would she still choose him? The thought was lowering. He’d have to think on it. For certain, he couldn’t hurt her further.
Instead, the earl turned back. “Remember, I shall hold those debts to make sure you keep your word.”
Behind them as they left the room, he heard Margaret mutter.
“You’ll be sorry. You’ll be sorry.”
Was the woman speaking of him or of Angella? Neither thought was particularly appealing.
* * *
Angella was in her chamber when the earl saw off his former fiancée and her brothers. “I don’t want you around them any longer,” he told her. “You’ve borne quite enough from them. As soon as they leave, I’ll come to you.”
As much as Angella disliked the thought of Margaret’s hatred, it was even more difficult to stay put in her room, not knowing what was happening below. The hour passed ever so slowly. The book she had been reading didn’t hold her interest, and she placed it back on the shelf. Her hands moved over the soft calfskin covers of the other books.
The books were common enough in most establishments: Bunyon’s Pilgrim Progress, The Whole Duty of Man, Baker’s Chronicles, The Tale of a Tub and the Complete Letter Writer. There were also several Gothic romances by the current rage Mrs. Radcliff, as well as a well-worn copy of the The Vicar of Wakefield, which Angella had been reading for the second time.
Sighing, she smoothed the skirt of her willow-green gown as she turned toward the window and looked out. At the moment she wished her windows overlooked the driveway. Then she could at least see whether or not Lady Margaret was, in truth, about ready to leave.
As much as she admired the earl’s deft handling of the situation, she could not help but fear something would change, and Margaret would once more hold the reins of the situation—and the earl.
The hour passed, then two and still he did not come. Angella paced the room, unable to keep still. At the door, she heard the kitten scratching impatiently and hurried to let her in.
Cautiously, the little kitten poked her head in the room, meowing a question as she did so. As the kitten limped slowly into the room, Angella picked her up and cuddled her in her arms. “Poor baby. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” A lump formed in her
throat at the bandaged front leg. Mrs. Karry, knowing how the girl doted on the cat, had patched up the squirming animal and had Angella’s maid inform her that the cat was all right when she brought up her chocolate that morning.
Rumors had spread rapidly and, by morning, the staff had a pretty good idea what had taken place the night before. Their sympathy was all for Angella. Mrs. Karry had clucked over her and the kitten as she once did over her own children, muttering darkly about ladies who were not ladies and gentlemen who were no gentlemen. The woman’s vehemence brought a smile of understanding to Angella’s lips. She felt like raging herself.
If only he would come. Fear nagged at her. She fair exploded with the waiting. Bowing her head, she prayed. Forced herself to pray even for a safe trip for Margaret and her brothers. As she prayed, a sweet calmness filled her heart as the verse which filled her mind during her brangle with Reverend Carter flowed into her heart.
Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strength thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. Fear thou not; for I am with thee... Angella smiled. “Thank You, Jesus. Thank You.”
When the earl came for her sometime later, she met him with a serene smile. “Spensor?”
He wasn’t smiling. His whole demeanor confused her. He seemed somehow more distant now than ever. “Spensor? What is it? What’s wrong? What has happened? She is gone, isn’t she?”
The corners of the earl’s lips turned up. “Oh, yes. She and her brothers are quite gone.”
“So what about us?” asked Angella, searching the earl’s face.
The earl took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking. We’ve known each other for such a short time...”
Angella recalled Margaret’s parting shot—If she’s as innocent as you say, how do you know her feelings for you are real instead of gratitude for taking her in? A cold chill zipped down her spine. “True, but...”
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