“Do you understand?”
“No . . . Why don’t people have gills?”
“People don’t live underwater so we don’t need them,” Robert told her.
“But Daddy—”
“Let’s eat lunch,” Angelica called, saving her husband from another question.
Hand in hand, Robert and Daisy walked back to the blanket They had cucumber sandwiches, sugar cookies, and lemon-barley water.
“I wish you were my mother,” Daisy told Angelica.
“I am your mother,” she answered with a smile.
Daisy looked confused. “What about Lucille?”
“Sweetheart, you have two mothers,” Angelica told her. “When I married your father, I became your stepmother.”
“What’s a stepmother?”
“A stepmother is like a fairy godmother.”
Daisy threw her arms around Angelica and said, “You’re my fairy godmother.”
“Lie down on the blanket with your father and watch the cloud pictures while I play my harp,” Angelica said.
Robert lay down on the blanket and put his arms behind his head. Daisy imitated her father. Angelica plucked the strings of her harp, conjuring a soothing, atmospheric sound, transporting them to a mystical world. Her notes imitated a river winding its way through a serene valley in springtime, filled with wildflowers, hummingbirds, and nightingales. Soon her tune became a duet with the waterfall.
Glancing at her new family, Angelica smiled to think that for once she had righted a wrong. Both father and daughter were asleep. Her husband needed his daughter as much as the child needed him, and she needed both of them.
Her own life had taken a road she’d never imagined existed. The only thing left was to get her revenge and see that her parents were buried on their own land.
Angelica watched her sleeping husband and recalled her father telling her as a child that she couldn’t be a princess. She would need to content herself with a duke’s son. Oh, she was more than content; she was happy. And when her sisters married and had children, there would be an enormous extended family, with many cousins for Daisy and her unborn babe. If only her parents had lived to see this day . . .
* * *
Much later, Robert carried Daisy piggyback, down the shaded woodland path to the mansion. Walking behind them, Angelica smiled at their conversation.
“I still smell the flower fairies,” Daisy said.
“I’m going to give you culture when we get home,” Angelica called.
“What’s culture?”
“Culture is stories about people and places and all sorts of things,” Angelica answered.
“I like stories,” the little girl said.
“So do I,” Robert called. “Will you give me culture, too?”
“There is nothing I would rather give you than culture, my lord,” Angelica answered.
“Nothing?”
“Well, almost nothing,” she amended herself.
At Daisy’s insistence, they stopped at Chirp’s grave and said a prayer. Then the little girl turned to Angelica, saying, “I’m ready for my culture.”
“I’m ready too,” Robert said.
Angelica led them across the lawn, around the maze, through the garden, and into the mansion. They walked down the corridor to the grand foyer.
Pointing to the statuary, Angelica told them, “Those are the three Fates, who rule the past, the present, and the future. All three ladies were weavers. Clotho is the spinner of life, Lachesis is the measurer, and Atropos is the cutter of life’s thread.”
“That means you die,” Robert told his daughter.
“I don’t like culture,” Daisy said, looking frightened.
“The three Fates are everyone’s fairy godmothers.” Angelica said. “Come out to the front drive.”
Angelica led them outside to the water terraces. She pointed to the smallest of the terraces, saying, “That is a mermaid, a virgin of the sea. She has the tail of a fish. Mermaids receive the souls of men who drown.” She gestured to the middle terrace. “King Neptune is the god of the sea.” Finally, she pointed at the largest of the three terraces, saying, “Aphrodite is the goddess of love and the queen of the sea, where she was born.”
“Aphro was born in the sea?”
“That is correct, sweetheart.”
“She got no gills,” Daisy said.
Robert and Angelica looked at each other and burst out laughing. “I think we’ve had enough culture for one day,” Robert announced.
“My lord, I think you are correct “ Angelica said, turning toward the mansion.
“Great grunting shit!” Daisy cried, pointing toward the distance. “Look at the parade.”
Chapter 19
“Bull’s pizzle,” Angelica cursed, realizing what the parade of carriages meant.
“Daddy what’s a bull’s pizzle?” Daisy asked.
“Never mind,” Robert answered. He whispered to Angelica, “Guard your tongue around her.”
Ignoring him, Angelica stared in dismay at the parade of coaches and carts wending its way up the red brick drive toward the mansion. Sacred sevens, she wanted more time alone with her husband and daughter.
“I thought your father was going to give us a week,” Angelica said, glancing at her husband.
Robert looked unhappy. “He did say that.”
“They are five days early,” Angelica complained. “I suppose we won’t be swimming at the pool for a while.”
Robert winked at her, saying, “I’ll do my best to hurry them along to Scotland.”
“I recognize your father’s coaches in front,” Angelica said, “but whose are those behind them?”
“Apparently, the Emersons accompanied them,” Robert answered.
“If we take care of the Emersons now,” she replied, “we won’t need to think about them again.”
“Wouldn’t that be pleasant?” Robert said noncommittally.
“Lady Angelica, what’s an Emerson?” Daisy asked.
“A monster,” Angelica said dryly.
Daisy looked frightened. “The monsters are coming?”
“Don’t tell her that,” Robert said.
“How else would you explain it?” Angelica countered.
Robert smiled. “A point well taken, my love.”
“Don’t worry about the monsters,” Angelica said, putting her arm around the little girl. “Daddy will protect us.”
The first of the coaches bearing the boar’s-head crest on the door halted in front of the mansion. The coachman jumped down and opened its door. Duke Magnus alighted and turned to assist Aunt Roxie, Samantha, and Victoria.
“Think of the fun we’re going to have with my sisters,” Angelica told Daisy. She took the girl’s hand in hers and followed her husband to the coach.
“How wonderfully radiant you look, my darlings,” Aunt Roxie gushed. “The three of you must be so happy together.”
“We were happy until unexpected guests arrived five days early,” Angelica said, making her husband laugh.
“You told me you’d be here at the end of the week,” Robert said to his father.
Duke Magnus shrugged. “Venetia was making noises about taking Colin north.”
“Colin is here?” Daisy asked.
“How is my favorite granddaughter?” the duke asked, turning his attention to the girl, who gave him a thumbs up. “Here is Colin now.”
Daisy turned around to see Colin alighting from the second coach, with James Armstrong and Adam St. Aubyn. The little girl would have made a dash for the boy, but Aunt Roxie grabbed her hand.
“Always let the man approach you,” Aunt Roxie told her. She looked at the others, saying, “It’s never too early to learn strategy.”
“Tinker is here, too?” Angelica asked her husband, seeing the duke’s majordomo and the boy’s nanny alight from the third coach.
“Tinker will accompany my father to Scotland,” Robert told her. “Webster will remain here with us.” He
greeted his friends with a handshake, saying, “Are you grouse hunting, too?”
“We’re going our separate ways to our own estates at the end of the week,” Adam St. Aubyn answered.
“We couldn’t possibly miss the fireworks here,” James added.
Angelica watched Charles and Venetia Emerson step down from their coach. “Daisy, take Colin and Mrs. Honey inside to find Mrs. Sweeting.”
Daisy took Mrs. Honey and Colin by the hand and led them toward the mansion. “We had a picnic and a funeral,” the little girl told them in a loud voice before disappearing inside.
As the Campbell footmen began unpacking the carts, Charles Emerson and his daughter advanced on the group of adults. Emerson shook Robert’s offered hand and then nodded at Angelica.
“Alexander remained in London?” Robert asked. “How disappointing.”
“My son had urgent business and will join us by the week’s end,” Emerson explained.
“I do not want to see my son playing with that girl,” Venetia said by way of a greeting.
“Then you are welcome to leave,” Angelica replied, making her sisters giggle.
Duke Magnus cleared his throat “Why don’t we go inside and settle ourselves?”
“Come, sisters,” Angelica said, looping her arms through theirs. “I’ll help you unpack, but only five days’ worth of clothing.”
Four hours later, Angelica smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her peach gown. She wanted to spend as little time with Venetia as possible and had delayed going down to dinner until the last moment. Too bad time couldn’t sprout wings and five days pass by in the blink of an eye.
“Come, Jasper,” Angelica called, walking toward the door. She held the door open for the macaw, smiling to think of the fun she could have scaring the elder Emerson with her pet.
Pausing at her stepdaughter’s chamber, Angelica opened the door and saw Daisy, Colin, and their nannies just beginning to eat dinner. “Daisy and Colin, come with me,” Angelica ordered. “You are eating with the family in the dining room.”
“Lady Venetia won’t like this,” Mrs. Honey said, a worried expression on her face.
“I am the Marchioness of Argyll,” Angelica reminded the woman, giving her an easy smile. “Lady Venetia has no voice here.”
“Hello,” Jasper called.
That got the children out of their seats. “Hello,” both called and dashed across the chamber to the door, apparently the idea of eating dinner with the macaw being too exciting to resist.
Like a woman on a mission, Angelica marched into the dining room calling, “Good evening, everyone.”
Daisy, Colin, and Jasper followed behind her. She kept her gaze on her quarry and watched his reaction to the new arrivals.
“Hello,” the macaw shrieked as it passed the elder Emerson on its way to the cage.
“Keep that bird away from me,” Emerson said, looking apprehensive.
“You aren’t afraid of a bird, are you, Chuck?” Aunt Roxie asked.
“Don’t call me that,” Emerson snapped.
“Is the dining room now a nursery?” Venetia asked. “The children should be eating with their nannies.”
“Families, including children, dine together,” Angelica told the brunette, seating Daisy between herself and Robert.
“Come here, Colin,” James Armstrong called, beckoning the boy. “Sit with Adam and me.”
“Speaking of children, darling, how are you feeling?” Aunt Roxie drawled.
“I feel wonderful,” Angelica answered.
Tinker and Webster supervised the serving of dinner. There were roasted Cornish hens with rice and mushroom sauce, shellfish soup, dressed dandelions with vinaigrette, and French rolls with butter, as well as wine for the gentlemen and lemon water for the ladies and children.
“Will you be joining us in Scotland?” Duke Magnus asked.
“Angelica and I are still honeymooning, Father,” Robert answered. “We’ll pass on the grouse hunting this year.”
“Honeymooning with your illegitimate daughter?” Venetia said snidely.
Stunned silence descended upon everyone at the table broken only by Daisy, asking, “What’s illegitimate?”
“Never mind,” Angelica said. She glanced at her husband, who opened his mouth to speak, but she touched his hand. When he paused to look at her, she said, “I’ll handle this.”
Angelica turned her attention on the brunette. “Lady Venetia, never mention that word in any of its forms in my home again or I will order you to leave,” she said in an overly polite tone. “After which, assisted by my aunt and sisters, I will spread a rumor that you stuff napkins in your unmentionables.”
Robert and his friends laughed out loud at that. The children joined them but, obviously, had no idea what was so hilarious. Even Duke Magnus struggled against a smile and needed to cover his mouth with his hand.
Venetia opened her mouth to reply but her father said, “Drop it, Venetia.”
“I want to stay with Daisy,” Colin announced.
“You are riding north with us,” his mother informed him.
“If Colin wants to stay, then he can stay as long as—” Duke Magnus glanced at his son.
“Colin is very welcome to remain with us,” Robert said.
Angelica nodded in agreement “We’ll have so much fun. We’ll picnic every day and study the cloud pictures.”
“I’ll have a fishing companion,” Robert added. “You’ll come fishing with me, won’t you, Colin?”
“Don’t go,” Daisy told him. “First you’ll kill the worm, and then you’ll kill the fish.”
“I don’t want to go fishing,” Colin said, looking appalled.
“Don’t be squeamish,” Robert said. “I’ll bait the hook for you.”
“What’s bait the hook?” Daisy asked.
“Baiting the hook means tormenting the unfortunate worm by sticking it on a sharp point,” Angelica explained.
Colin shook his head. “No fishing, Uncle Robert.”
“Thank you for explaining that,” Robert said to his wife.
Angelica gave him a puckish smile. “I believe in always telling the truth.”
“Speaking of truth, Parson Butterfield stopped by the duke’s house yesterday afternoon to see how you were getting on,” Venetia said, a snide edge to her voice.
“How would you know?” Angelica countered, refusing to panic, though her sisters looked ready to swoon on the floor. “You don’t live there.”
“I had just arrived for a visit with my son,” Venetia answered.
“Dear Parson Butterfield is an old family friend,” Aunt Roxie lied. “I should have written him as soon as we arrived in England. Actually, the man is a distant cousin of my late husband.”
“Which one?” Venetia asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Which husband? You have had several.”
“I can’t even remember which husband,” Aunt Roxie said with a throaty chuckle. “Some women are fortunate enough to attract any number of gentlemen, while others—poor darlings—have trouble with one.”
Venetia bristled visibly beneath the implied insult. She looked at Angelica again, saying, “Prince Rudolf will be joining us in Scotland. What a pity you won’t be there.”
“Scotland and Prince Rudolf hold no appeal for me,” Angelica said, glancing at her husband. She slid her gaze to the elder Emerson, saying, “My lord, would you care to finish that game of chance we began a few weeks ago?”
“I’m sorry, my lady,” Emerson said by way of a refusal. “I’ve sworn off gambling for a while.”
Angelica felt like screaming with frustration. She pasted a polite smile onto her face and said, “Another time, perhaps.”
When dinner ended, the adults walked upstairs to the drawing room. Angelica paused in the corridor to hug Daisy and Colin, promising the little girl, “I’ll be along shortly to tell you a story.”
“What about me?” Colin asked.
�
��I think your mother might like to tell you a story,” Angelica said.
“No, she won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“She’s never told me a story before,” Colin answered. “Only Nanny Honey tells me stories.”
What kind of a woman didn’t tell her own child bedtime stories? Angelica smiled through her irritation and said, “Then I will tell you a story, too.”
Turning away, Angelica headed down the corridor to the drawing room. Apparently, Venetia was as horrid a mother as Lucille. Not only that, if Venetia had met Parson Butterfield, then she and her father knew where the Douglases had been for the previous ten years. Was that why Emerson had refused to dice with her? Did he have an inkling that she had revenge on her mind?
Angelica paused outside the drawing room, took a deep breath, and pasted a smile onto her face. Then she stepped into the room.
“How long is that Dubois girl going to remain here?” Venetia was asking Robert. “Her presence in His Grace’s home is scandalous and could affect Colin’s social standing.”
“My daughter will be living with me permanently,” Robert replied, his irritation evident in his tone. “My wife and I plan to adopt Daisy.”
“This whole situation is unseemly,” Venetia protested.
Tossing caution aside, Angelica reached her husband’s side and told him, “I’ll handle this.” Then she turned on the brunette. “Venetia, you and your family stood on the fringes of society until ten years ago, when your father swindled my father out of his fortune,” Angelica told her. Then she threatened, “Keep your lips shut regarding Daisy, or I’ll tell society about how disreputable the Emersons really are.”
“How dare you,” Charles Emerson snapped. “I am the Earl of Winchester.”
“I don’t give a fig who you are,” Angelica shot back “Whatever you have has been stolen from others. I fully intend—”
“I would love a madeira,” Duke Magnus interrupted in a loud voice.
“I’ll pour it for you, darling,” Aunt Roxie said, rising from her chair. “Chuck—I mean Charles—would you care for a glass?”
The Earl of Winchester nodded.
“Come with me, darling,” Aunt Roxie ordered, grabbing Angelica’s hand. “I could use some help.”
Angelica turned away and saw her husband’s smile. She glanced at his friends, who were also smiling, as were her sisters.
To Tempt An Angel (Book 1 Douglas series) Page 27