To Tempt An Angel (Book 1 Douglas series)

by Grasso, Patricia;

  Angelica burst out laughing, and Robert joined her. Daisy laughed because they did.

  “I give you permission to make vulgar noises and foul odors,” Robert said, lifting a bean out of her salad. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

  When she obeyed, Robert put the bean into her mouth and then asked, “Do you like it?”

  Daisy nodded.

  “Eat as many beans as you like,” Robert told her.

  “You’ll be sorry,” the little girl warned.

  Angelica succumbed to a fit of giggles, and Daisy laughed, too. Never had Angelica seen the child so happy. The bruises on her arms had begun to fade, and her sweet expression had lost its pinched look.

  The remainder of their dinner was uneventful, a relaxed feeling swirled around them like a magic spell. Daisy yawned as dessert was served, and Angelica signaled Webster to fetch Mrs. Sweeting.

  “Daisy, go upstairs with Sweeting,” Angelica said when the woman appeared. “I’ll be along shortly to tell you a story.”

  Daisy went without argument, weary from her exciting day. When she reached the door, the girl turned around and called, “Lady Angelica!” She blew Angelica a kiss, and then looked at her father, saying, “This is for you.” She blew him a kiss, too.

  When the footman opened the door for her, Daisy said, “Thank you, my lord.”

  Once the child had gone, Angelica turned to her husband and said, “We should adopt her legally in the event Lucille comes around again.”

  “I’ll speak to my solicitor,” Robert replied.

  His easy acquiescence surprised her. “No argument?”

  “Do you want one?”

  Angelica smiled. “No, my lord.”

  “Have you considered how difficult gaining her acceptance into society will be?” Robert asked.

  “A thousand scandals will have occurred by the time Daisy reaches that age,” Angelica said. “No one will remember this one.”

  “Don’t count on that,” he told her.

  “Would you care to make a small wager?”

  “My lady, I have already experienced your cheating,” Robert said.

  “That really is too bad of you,” Angelica replied. “Speaking of wagers, when will you ruin Emerson?”

  “I haven’t given that any consideration,” Robert answered, “but I will concentrate on it tomorrow. Would you care to walk outside?”

  Angelica shook her head. “I promised Daisy a story before she goes to sleep.”

  Robert rose from his chair and offered her his hand. “I’m going to step outside for some air while you tend to your maternal duties.”

  Hand in hand, Robert and Angelica walked down the corridor to the foyer. Angelica paused before going upstairs, saying, “Thank you for being kind to her.”

  “Being kind to Daisy is easy,” Robert said. “She’s a charming sprite. I only regret—”

  Silencing him, Angelica placed a finger across his lips and said, “No regrets.” Then she hurried upstairs and stepped inside the little girl’s chamber.

  “I told you Lady Angelica would come,” Daisy told the nanny. “She never breaks her promises.”

  Angelica smiled at the older woman and sat on the edge of the bed. “Mrs. Sweeting, why don’t you go downstairs and have yourself a cup of tea?”

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  Angelica lifted the nightcap off the little girl’s head as soon as the woman left. She tossed it on the floor, saying, “No nightcap tonight.”

  Daisy clapped her hands in approval. “Will you tell me a story now?”

  Angelica leaned back against the headboard and put her arm around Daisy. “Once upon a time a poor girl lived with her aunt and two sisters. This girl had a special talent for gambling and went to the fair one day to win money for her family’s supper.”

  “They had no food?” Daisy asked.

  Angelica shook her head. “Not even a single bean.”

  “What happened?”

  “A handsome but poorly dressed man stepped out of the crowd and challenged the girl to a game of dice,” Angelica continued.

  “What’s dice?”

  “Dice is a game of chance,” Angelica told her. “I can teach you how to win every time. Anyway, this handsome man let the poor girl win lots and lots of money. At the end of their game, the man insisted on escorting the girl home. When they arrived at her cottage, the girl kissed the man, and he turned into a handsome prince. They married and lived happily ever after.”

  “What was the man’s name?” Daisy asked.

  “Robert Roy Campbell.”

  “The same as my father?”

  Angelica kissed her forehead. “Your father is the prince.”

  “He doesn’t have a crown,” Daisy told her.

  “Princes don’t always wear crowns,” Angelica said. “Your father is a prince among men.”

  “And are you the poor girl?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I like that story.”

  “I’m going to see my prince now,” Angelica said, standing and drawing the coverlet up to Daisy’s chin. “If you need me, I’ll be right down the corridor.”

  Angelica turned to leave and saw Robert, standing in the doorway. She crossed the chamber and whispered, “Come to bed, husband.”

  Following her out of the room, Robert said, “Please, call me Your Highness . . .”

  * * *

  Long after Angelica had fallen asleep in his arms, Robert lay awake and watched her. His wife considered him a prince, but how wrong she was. If he had been a real prince of a man, Louisa would never have committed suicide, nor would he have hurt his young daughter by ignoring her existence for all those years.

  He couldn’t do anything about Louisa, Robert knew, but he could change his ways. He would shower his daughter with belated love and spend all the days and nights of his life making his wife happy.

  Robert planted a kiss on Angelica’s head and smiled when she sighed in her sleep. Then he joined her in a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Awakening early the next morning, Robert washed, shaved, and dressed in his oldest clothing. The rosebushes needed pruning, and he wanted to finish the job before Angelica and Daisy awakened. Today was theirs, and he intended to devote every moment to them.

  Robert worked outside for several hours, tending his plants with infinite care. With his hands resting on his hips, he stepped back to inspect his work before starting on the next rosebush.

  His shadow caught his attention when another, smaller shadow, with hands on hips, stood beside it. Glancing to the left, Robert spied his daughter standing beside him.

  “Good morning, Daisy.”

  “Good morning, You.”

  “What do you think of my roses?” Robert asked, gesturing to the plants.

  “I like them,” Daisy answered.

  Using his shears, Robert snipped a rose and handed it to her, saying, “For you, my lady. Roses guard against ill humors.”

  Daisy sniffed the rose. “It smells good, too.” She looked around and said, “Wait one minute.” Racing across the lawn, the little girl stopped and picked a daisy before running back to him.

  “Lean down, you,” she ordered. When he obeyed, she placed the daisy under his chin, exclaiming, “Oh, I see you adore butter, too.”

  Robert grinned. “I certainly do. How did you know?”

  “Lady Angelica said if the daisy re—re—shows yellow under your chin, then you love butter,” Daisy told him.

  “Did Lady Angelica tell you about my flower fairies?” Robert asked.

  “You have flower fairies?” Daisy asked in a whisper, her dark eyes gleaming with excitement.

  Robert took her hand in his, led her into the main garden, and walked her around to admire his flowers. “Every single flower has a fairy that holds its spirit,” he told her.

  “I don’t see any fairies,” Daisy said. “Do you?”

  “Flower fairies are difficult to see,” Robert said with a smile, “but they
speak to us all the time.”

  Daisy looked doubtful. “I don’t hear anything either.”

  “Have you ever caught a flower’s fragrance as you were walking by it?” he asked

  “Yes,” she answered, lifting the rose to her nose.

  “The flower’s fairy is greeting you,” Robert said. “Have you ever thought how lovely a flower is?”

  Daisy nodded.

  “That means the fairy caught your attention,” he said.

  Finished with their tour of the garden, Robert walked her back through the iron gate onto the lawn where the rosebushes grew. “The rose is a special flower, one the angels love,” he told her. “The red rose fairy helps you gain love.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “Webster told me,” Robert answered. “When you have a favorite flower, its fairy has something special to share with you. Do you have a favorite flower?”

  Daisy nodded and held up the rose. “This is my favorite.”

  “Why is the rose your favorite?” Robert asked.

  “You gave it to me.”

  Robert felt a lump of raw emotion form in his throat, and his eyes filled with unshed tears. He nodded his head in understanding, afraid he would lose control if he spoke. Regaining his composure, he asked, “Why did you call me ‘You’?”

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you,” Daisy answered, looking at him through enormous dark eyes that mirrored his own.

  Robert knelt on bended knee in order to be at eye level with her. “Call me Daddy,” he told her.

  “My wish came true,” Daisy cried, throwing herself into his arms.

  Robert smiled. “What wish was that, sweetheart?”

  “I wished upon a star for a daddy.”

  “And now you have one,” Robert said. “If you climb on my back and put your arms around my neck, I’ll take you for a pretend pony ride.”

  Needing no second invitation, Daisy ran around behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “What now?” she asked.

  “Don’t let go.”

  “I won’t.”

  “When I stand up,” Robert said, “wrap your legs around my waist.”

  Robert stood slowly, and Daisy did as she was told. Making neighing sounds, he began galloping around and around the lawns while his daughter giggled and encouraged him onward.

  “Good morning,” called a voice.

  Robert stopped his prancing and turned toward the mansion. “Madam, I believe morning has aged almost to afternoon.”

  “Lady Angelica, look at me riding my pretend pony,” Daisy called.

  “I see you.”

  “Oh, no, let me down,” the little girl cried.

  Robert lowered her to the ground and watched her run a short distance away. She stared at the lawn and then burst into tears.

  Crossing to her side, Robert saw a dead sparrow.

  He reached for it, saying, “I’ll throw it away.”

  “No, Daddy, we need to bury it,” Daisy whined.

  “Wait one minute,” Angelica called. She disappeared inside and then reappeared a few minutes later. Throwing him a small box and a cloth, she ordered, “Wrap the bird in the cloth and place it in the casket. Then come inside the house while I fetch the other mourners.”

  The casket? Robert thought, amused. The other mourners? Were they now hosting a funeral for a sparrow?

  “Daddy, wrap the bird in the cloth,” Daisy said. “The mourners are waiting.”

  Robert covered the sparrow with the piece of linen and lifted it off the grass. Then he set it inside the jewelry box-casket and closed the lid.

  “Where is his grave?” Daisy asked.

  Robert paused. That was a good question. The family crypt was definitely out of the question.

  “Do you see the lawns beyond the maze?” Robert asked.

  “Yes.”

  “On one side of the lawn near the woodland lies a garden of wildflowers, because flower fairies love to play in wildflowers,” Robert told her. “On the other side of the lawns lies my butterfly garden. Which place do you think the deceased would like?”

  “Daddy, what is deceased?”

  “Dead.”

  Daisy’s bottom lips quivered at the word dead. “I think the butterflies would be better.”

  “Let’s go inside,” Robert said, offering her his hand. “The mourners are waiting.”

  Daisy gave him a sad smile. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  Robert and Daisy returned to the mansion. Angelica had managed to assemble a small group of mourners consisting of Jasper, Mrs. Sweeting, and Webster who carried a spade.

  “Hello,” Jasper called when the little girl appeared.

  “I’m sorry your cousin is deceased,” Daisy told the macaw.

  “Great grunting shit,” the macaw shrieked, making the adults smile.

  “Everyone is here,” Angelica announced.

  “Where is the final resting place?”

  Robert struggled against a smile and managed to keep a somber look on his face. “Daisy decided that—” He looked at his daughter and whispered, “What’s his name?”

  “Chirp.”

  “Daisy has decided that Chirp will spend eternity in my butterfly garden,” Robert told them.

  “A wise choice,” Webster said, earning a nod of agreement from Sweeting and Angelica.

  “Would you like to carry Chirp?” Robert asked his daughter.

  “No, Daddy. I want you to carry him.”

  “I am truly honored.”

  “Everyone take your handkerchiefs out,” Angelica instructed, playing the funeral director.

  The mourners held handkerchiefs in front of their faces and formed a line behind Robert. Daisy, Jasper, Angelica and Sweeting walked in that order. Webster followed behind. Slowly, their group marched outside. They crossed the lawns, skirted the maze, and made their way to the butterfly garden. Robert turned to face them, and they formed a semicircle in front of him. Setting the box down on the ground, Robert began, “We are gathered here today—”

  “Wrong ceremony,” Angelica called.

  Robert nodded. “We have come here to bid farewell to Chirp. Though we didn’t know him very well, we listened each morning for his song and enjoyed the pleasant sight of him flying by. Each one of us will miss him.” He turned to his daughter and asked, “Would you like the last word?”

  Daisy nodded and announced, “Chirp was a very good bird.”

  “Amen,” Webster said.

  “Amen,” echoed Angelica and Sweeting.

  “Great grunting . . . hello,” Jasper called, making everyone but the little girl smile.

  “Come, Daisy, we’ll prepare lunch while your father buries Chirp,” Angelica said, taking the little girl’s hand in hers. “Then the three of us will picnic. Won’t that be fun?”

  “What about Chirp’s grave?” Daisy whined. “How will I find it?

  “I’ll find something to mark the grave,” Webster said.

  “Thank you, Webster,” Daisy said, and blew him a kiss. Then she walked away with Angelica.

  Robert had buried Chirp by the time Angelica and Daisy returned to the butterfly garden. Marking the grave were two small statutes of praying angels crafted of resin. Serene and regal, the graceful angels knelt silently in prayer.

  Daisy gazed at the makeshift monument and said, “Chirp would be pleased.”

  “Bookends,” Robert whispered to Angelica. “Where is Jasper?”

  “I left him inside,” she answered. “Where shall we picnic?”

  “The pool?” Robert asked.

  Angelica nodded in agreement. Yesterday, he’d been reluctant to go there, and today he was suggesting the pool as a picnic spot. She hoped his emotional scars would fade in time, until the thought of Louisa’s death would be a bad memory.

  “I’ll carry Daisy,” Robert was saying. “You carry the lunch, the blanket, and your harp.” He turned to his daughter, adding, “I’m taking you to a secret place.”


  “I love secret places,” Daisy said, clapping her hands.

  Robert lifted the little girl into his arms and led the way to the woodland path. Angelica was glad she’d left the macaw behind; the bird would only have slowed them down.

  “I smell the flower fairies, Daddy” Daisy said.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Lady Angelica?” she called over her father’s shoulder.

  “I smell them, too,” Angelica answered.

  Reaching the path that led down the side of the waterfall, Daisy cried, “Sacred sevens, what is that?”

  “That is a waterfall,” Robert told her. “It’s very pretty but very dangerous. Never stand near the edge.”

  Angelica felt insistent tugging on her heartstrings. She prayed that one day her husband would recover from his first wife’s untimely death.

  With Daisy’s help, Angelica spread out the blanket on the grass. Then she put down the basket and her harp.

  Robert sat down and removed his boots and hose. Then he rolled up his trouser legs, saying, “Daisy, take your shoes and stockings off. We’ll dunk our toes in the water while Lady Angelica unpacks the food.”

  Daisy plopped down on the blanket and did as she’d been told. Hiking up her gown, she ran to the water’s edge, calling, “The grass tickles my feet.”

  Angelica watched her husband and his daughter wading ankle-deep in the pool. She smiled then she heard the little girl cry, “Look, Daddy. That is a fish.”

  “Do you want to fish with me some morning?” Robert asked. “Fishing is fun.”

  “I don’t know how,” she told him.

  “You stick the worm on the hook and then toss it in the water,” Robert explained. “Then along comes a fish, who tries to eat the worm but gets caught on the hook.”

  Daisy stared at him in obvious surprise. In a disgusted tone of voice, she said “I bet the worm and the fish don’t have fun.”

  Robert looked over his shoulder at Angelica and shrugged, saying, “I suppose I’ll need to wait for a son.”

  “Daddy, how does the fish live under water?” Daisy asked, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention.

  “Those little moving flaps are its gills,” Robert explained. “The fish breathes through them.”

  “Oh.”