To Tempt An Angel (Book 1 Douglas series)

by Grasso, Patricia;

  Standing with the duke and her aunt in the nave of the Grosvenor Chapel, Angelica clamped her lips together, and her frown became a scowl. Two hundred of the Campbells’ closest friends filled the church for her wedding.

  “You look like a princess, except for that grotesque expression,” Aunt Roxie said, after circling her with a critical eye. “Your parents would be so proud.”

  Angelica wore her mother’s wedding gown. Elegantly simple, the gown of white silk had been embroidered with hundreds of tiny seed pearls. Its bodice had a squared neckline and long, flowing sleeves shaped like bells. Drop-waisted, the gown flared slightly from her hips.

  Around her neck, Angelica wore her diamond and gold pendant, and on her feet were white satin slippers that complemented the gown. A wreath of orange blossoms served as a headdress, crowning the blond hair that cascaded to her waist.

  “Child, I do not want either you or my son unhappy,” Duke Magnus said, taking her hand in his. “If you prefer not to marry Robert, I’ll call off the wedding.”

  Angelica raised her gaze to the duke’s. She loved the marquess and couldn’t bring herself to say the words that would cancel this fiasco. How could she bring a child into the world unless she married the babe’s father? She had trapped herself into this marriage without any help from her aunt or the duke.

  “I’m already unhappy,” Angelica said, and then she sighed. “Another forty years of misery won’t make any difference. The child will be loved.”

  “Darling, why are you unhappy?” Aunt Roxie asked, looking concerned.

  “I wanted to marry a man who loved me,” Angelica answered, a catch of emotion in her voice.

  “Is that all?” Aunt Roxie said, and smiled. “The marquess adores you.”

  “He’s never expressed any love for me,” she countered.

  “Have you expressed any for him?”

  “Yes,” Angelica answered, wiping the smile off her aunt’s face.

  “Actions speak louder than words,” Aunt Roxie told her. “Watch what a man does, not what he says or doesn’t say.”

  Duke Magnus cleared his throat “Roxanne, I’ll handle this.” He turned to Angelica, saying, “Robert wants to marry you, but sometimes men find expressing their feelings difficult, if not impossible.”

  “A man who says ‘I love you’ too easily is not to be trusted,” Aunt Roxie agreed.

  “Be patient with Robert,” Duke Magnus continued. “Despite our wealth, my oldest son has had a difficult time. As a boy, the prospect of living up to his father’s and his ancestors’ high standards, worried him. Then Robert lost his brother to a riding accident, and Louisa’s suicide a few months later devastated him.”

  “How can I compete with a dead woman for his affection?” Angelica asked.

  “Robert felt no great passion for Louisa,” the duke told her. “Theirs was an arranged marriage.”

  “What was she like?”

  “Gentle and timid, Louisa possessed none of your fiery spirit,” Duke Magnus answered with a smile.

  You look like your mother but possess none of her gentleness, Angelica recalled her father’s final words to her.

  His words rang true, but there was nothing to be done for it. She couldn’t change who she was.

  “Will you marry my son and make him happy?” Duke Magnus asked. “Or shall I step into the chapel and call off the ceremony?”

  “I’ll marry him,” Angelica said, smiling for the first time that day. “Beyond that, I can promise nothing.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” the duke said, offering his arm. “Roxanne, tell them we’re ready and take your place in the chapel.”

  Angelica looped her arm through the duke’s. Together, they stood at the top of the aisle. When the organ and violins began to play, the duke gave her an encouraging smile and guided her down the aisle toward his son.

  Hundreds of flickering candles lit the chapel, casting dancing shadows on its walls. Bouquets of red and white roses adorned the altar, reminding her of the day Robert had stood outside her cottage and tried to make amends with her.

  Angelica suffered one bad moment. When the sea of mostly unfamiliar faces turned to watch them, she spied Venetia and her father. Both wore such expressions of hatred that she hesitated for a fraction of a moment.

  “Focus on Robert,” Duke Magnus whispered.

  Angelica took his advice. Blocking out everyone else, she fixed her gaze on her groom, who stood with the bishop at the altar. Robert looked magnificent in his midnight blue attire; but, more importantly, his smile on her held the promise of love.

  Reaching the altar, Duke Magnus placed her trembling hand in his son’s and joined her aunt and sisters in the front pew. Robert lifted her hand to his lips before turning with her to follow the bishop through the mahogany gates into the sanctuary.

  Suffering from a queasy stomach, Angelica felt relieved that the ceremony was short. Its only tiny glitch came when she gasped out loud at the first sight of her wedding band. Topped with an enormous diamond, the band was yellow, white, and rose gold, braided together.

  “I assume you like the ring,” Robert whispered.

  “Is it real?” Angelica asked, making him laugh.

  The bishop cleared his throat. “Shall we continue?”

  In a few short minutes, the bishop pronounced them man and wife, and Robert was escorting her down the aisle. An army of bodyguards surrounded them before they stepped outside, reminding her that someone wanted her husband dead.

  Angelica felt shy on the short ride to their wedding breakfast at the duke’s town house. The man beside her was her husband, but she couldn’t think of anything to say to him.

  “You make a beautiful bride,” Robert said, lifting her hand to his lips. “One thing puzzles me, though.”

  Angelica looked at him. “What is it?”

  “Why wasn’t Jasper sitting with your relatives?” Robert asked, making her smile. He reached into his waistcoat’s inner pocket and withdrew a folded white handkerchief. Wrapped inside the handkerchief was a piece of dry toast. He passed it to her, saying, “You look like you need this.”

  Angelica smiled and began eating the bread. “Where have you been for three weeks?” she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.

  “I’ve been avoiding you,” Robert answered matter-of-factly.

  His honesty surprised her. “Why?”

  “I knew if you saw me, I would aggravate you,” Robert told her. “Then you would cancel the wedding.”

  “That isn’t true.”

  “I wouldn’t aggravate you?”

  “Yes, you would aggravate me,” Angelica answered, making him laugh, “but I wouldn’t have canceled the wedding.”

  Their coach halted in front of his father’s home. The driver opened the door, and Robert climbed out. He turned to assist her just as the duke’s coach pulled up behind them.

  The next three hours passed in a blur. Angelica met more aristocrats than she cared to and smiled until her face hurt. She felt certain, though, that no one could suspect her marriage to the marquess was loveless.

  Two incidents irritated Angelica. Against her protests, Robert had forbidden Daisy and Colin from attending the reception.

  And then there was Venetia.

  Leaving the celebration, Angelica excused herself and went to the ladies’ resting area. She needed to compose herself before facing her husband alone in his town house, her new home.

  Angelica sat down and took a deep, fortifying breath. A moment later Venetia walked into the room. Sacred sevens, this was all she needed to make the situation worse.

  “Are you following me?” Angelica asked, looking in the mirror at the other woman.

  Venetia inclined her head and smiled at her, but Angelica knew the gesture was forced. A chill of apprehension ran down her spine.

  “You will never be mother to the Campbell heir,” Venetia told her. “My father promised me.”

  Anger swept through An
gelica. She rose from her chair and faced the other woman. Almost nose-to-nose with her, Angelica said in a scathing tone of voice, “You tell your father that he may be able to cheat a decent man out of his family’s fortune, but he has no control over who will be the Campbell heir’s mother.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Venetia demanded.

  “Ask your father.” Angelica brushed past her to the door but paused to add, “By the way, I am already with child.” Then she quit the chamber.

  Angelica slipped into her chair beside Robert’s. He turned to her with a smile, and then his expression became concerned. “What’s wrong? You look pale.”

  “I feel tired,” Angelica lied. “How much longer do we need to stay?”

  “We’ll leave now.” Robert gestured to the majordomo. “Tinker, have the carriage brought around.”

  “Tinker, wait,” Angelica stopped the man. She looked at Robert, asking, “Do we really need the carriage? It’s only two doors down, and I could use the fresh air.”

  Robert inclined his head. “Tinker, cancel the carriage.”

  “Tell the marquess’s bodyguards we are leaving through the garden door,” Angelica instructed the majordomo. She looked at Robert and added, “Though your demise would leave me a wealthy woman, I have no wish to become an eighteen-year-old widow.”

  “That’s a relief to know,” Robert teased her.

  After saying good-bye to their guests, Robert and Angelica stepped into the duke’s garden. A small army of bodyguards surrounded them instantly.

  Reaching his town house, Robert scooped her into his arms and carried her across the threshold and into a kitchen filled with servants. “Your aunt instructed me to do that for luck,” he said, setting her down on her feet.

  Robert turned to the servants, saying, “This is my wife, Lady Angelica. Serve her as you serve me.”

  The servants applauded. Robert inclined his head, accepting their approval, and then escorted her up the stairs to the foyer.

  “Would you care to rest now?” he asked.

  “Yes, I would.”

  “I’ll show you to your chamber.”

  Her chamber? Angelica wondered, disappointed. Didn’t a husband and wife share a chamber? She understood that he’d married her to legitimize the Campbell heir, but he could at least pretend he cared for her. Had he and Louisa shared a chamber?

  Robert escorted her up the stairs. When they reached the second-floor landing, Angelica noticed the portrait of a pretty blond woman dressed in a blue gown. She stopped short and stared at the woman she’d seen sitting in the marquess’s garden.

  “Who is that?” Angelica asked, her gaze on the portrait.

  Robert remained silent. Angelica glanced at him. His expression was grim.

  “Louisa Emerson,” he answered.

  “That is the woman I saw in the gazebo,” Angelica told him.

  “Impossible.”

  “Her spirit is restless,” she added.

  “I do not wish to speak about my late wife today,” Robert said curtly.

  “Very well, my lord,” she acquiesced, following him up the stairs. “We’ll speak about it tomorrow.”

  Her bedchamber was larger than the whole cottage near Primrose Hill and decorated in gold, fire red, and sky blue, with touches of cream and black. The door was located at one end of the room. On Angelica’s right was the hearth; on her left an enormous canopied bed complete with curtains. Along the opposite wall were four windows, and on the wall to the left of the bed was a door.

  “I had it redecorated for you,” Robert told her. He smiled, adding, “Which is what I’ve been doing for the past three weeks. If you don’t like the colors—”

  “The colors are fine,” Angelica said, blushing.

  She’d thought of him doing many things during the past three weeks, but decorating a bedchamber for her wasn’t one of them.

  “I thought vibrant colors suited you more than pastels,” Robert said. “The sky blue reminded me of your eyes, and the red matches your personality.”

  “Is that a compliment or an insult,” Angelica asked.

  “A compliment.”

  “In that case, I thank you.” Angelica pointed at a side door, asking, “Where does that go?”

  “To the nursery,”

  “Is that decorated in vibrant colors too?”

  “I thought I would leave the nursery to you,” he answered.

  “Where does that door lead?” she asked, pointing again.

  “To my bedchamber.” He ignored her blush and said, “Turn around and I’ll unfasten your buttons.”

  Angelica showed him her back. Her thoughts fixed on the day she’d been in his house and he’d unfastened her buttons.

  “You are being unusually pleasant,” Robert said, turning her to face him.

  “I had the same thought about you.”

  That made Robert smile. He planted a kiss on her forehead and said, “Enjoy your rest, and I’ll see you at supper.”

  Angelica watched him cross the chamber. Without thinking, she called out, “What do I do?”

  Robert turned around, a puzzled expression on his face. He walked back to her.

  “How do I pass the hours when I’m not resting?” she asked.

  “How do you usually pass your days?” he asked clearly amused.

  “Cooking, cleaning playing my harp, practicing cards and dice, and gambling.”

  “Except for the harp, those activities are inappropriate for the Marchioness of Argyll,” Robert told her. “What did you do at my father’s?”

  “Plan my revenge and play with Daisy,” she answered.

  “I’ll take care of the revenge,” he said. “After today you will confer with Cook about the meals, play your harp, care for Daisy, and—Do you read?”

  “I know how but don’t like it,” Angelica answered. “There’s no action.”

  “Spoken like a true gambler.” Robert put his arm around her, saying, “Let’s not worry about all the days of our lives. Let’s concentrate on today.”

  Angelica smiled and nodded. She would speak with her aunt at the first opportunity and consult her about a lady’s household duties. Clearly, her husband was ignorant about such things.

  “Take your nap,” Robert said. “I’ll awaken you for supper.”

  After he left, Angelica undressed down to her chemise and carefully laid her mother’s wedding gown on the chaise near the hearth. She removed the wreath of orange blossoms from her hair and placed that on the dressing table.

  Pulling the coverlet back, Angelica lay down on the bed. She held her left hand out in front of her to admire her wedding band and stared at the diamond winking at her from its setting of gold. Did the size of the diamond reflect Robert’s feelings for her? Or was he playing his role as the Marquess of Argyll?

  Angelica’s thoughts drifted to the woman whose portrait hung on the wall of the second-floor landing. Why hadn’t she noticed the portrait the first time she’d been here? Perhaps she’d been too nervous.

  Louisa looked sweet and biddable. How could she compete with that? Sweet and biddable were qualities noticeably lacking in her character.

  Bull’s pizzle, Angelica thought. She’d rather eat dirt than be sweet and biddable. She could never compete with a dead woman, nor did she wish to be something she wasn’t.

  Angelica slipped the band off her finger and peered inside to see if he’d had the date engraved. The inscription read: A Ma Vie De Coer Entier.

  What did those words mean? she wondered, her eyelids growing heavy. How like the marquess to hide his sentiment in a heathen language.

  “Angel . . .”

  Angelica drifted up from the depths of unconsciousness. Depleted of energy from her pregnancy and the excitement of the past weeks, her body wanted more sleep.

  Opening her eyes, Angelica saw Robert sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. She noted his black silk bed robe and smiled at him drowsily.

  Leaning close, Robert planted
a kiss on her lips and asked, “Are you ready for supper?”

  Angelica yawned and stretched. “Give me a moment to dress.”

  “There’s no need to dress,” Robert told her, holding up her ivory silk bed robe. “We’re supping in my chamber.”

  Angelica rose from the bed and let him help her into her robe. She felt his arm go around her shoulder as he escorted her through the doors connecting their chambers.

  A table had been set up in front of the windows, which were open to allow the evening breeze inside. Fine linens, crystal, china, and silverware lay on the table, lit by two candles.

  Angelica sat down and looked over the evening’s fare: tomato soup, potted mushrooms and chicken, slices of toast, a glass of wine for him, and milk for her. She lifted the glass and sipped the milk.

  “Warm milk?” she asked. “I am celebrating my wedding with warm milk?”

  “I thought you would prefer to eat lightly after this morning,” Robert said. “If you want something else, I can order it.” He smiled and added, “You are carrying my child, though.”

  “You believe the babe prefers warm milk?”

  “The milk will be better for him,” Robert answered.

  “Better for her,” Angelica corrected him.

  “I am relieved you didn’t hang wolfbane over your door,” Robert said, ignoring her comment.

  Angelica smiled. “I never thought of it.”

  “That sounds encouraging.” Robert changed the subject, saying, “We’ll be leaving London mid-morning tomorrow and arrive at Campbell Manor in the early afternoon.”

  “And will Daisy be accompanying us?” Angelica asked.

  “Sweetheart, telling you who isn’t accompanying us would be easier,” Robert answered. “Our families and invited guests will be arriving in a week.”

  Angelica nodded. She had only one week to plant the bud of a relationship between father and daughter before others claimed some of her husband’s attention. His relationship with Daisy took precedence over her.

  “Angel, did you hear me?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Angelica said, fixing her gaze on him.