Falcon's Angel

by Judith E. French

  Dark Welsh eyes regarded Will with a hint of amusement, but the butler's face remained expressionless, and his tone formal. "I am not in the habit of questioning her ladyship on her comings and goings, Mr. Falcon. And I would not be so presumptuous as to hazard a guess when she might return." Griffin inclined his head slightly. "Would you care to leave a message, sir?"

  "No message."

  Will's mood had not improved when he turned to walk the few blocks to the offices of Hamilton Shipping near the harbor. Where the hell had the two of them gone? Certainly not to the physician's? If Angel had taken a turn for the worse, Dr. Madison would have come to the house. Where could Lizzy possibly go this morning that she would wish Angel to accompany her?

  Will had covered half the distance to Hamilton's, passing people on the street whom he'd known all his life and barely offering civil greetings, before realizing he'd missed an appointment with Richard. Two merchants and clients, Walter Hughes and Guy Albright, were supposed to meet with him and Richard to discuss raising funds for the expedition north to destroy the Brethren.

  "Mr. Hamilton waited for you," a sharp-nosed clerk with ink-stained fingers said, when Will entered the outer office. "They left more than an hour ago." The young man frowned. "Mr. Hamilton and the others seemed quite put out."

  "Do you know where they went?" Will asked.

  "Didn't say. Mr. Hamilton did say that he expects to see you here on Monday morning, no later than eight o'clock."

  Uncertain whether he would find Richard at his home, Will stepped out into the street just as Edward and George Mason, and a third man whom Will didn't know, approached on horseback. All three animals were streaked with sweat, giving evidence of hard riding.

  Edward was riding Calli, a sweet-faced bay that had been Will's favorite horse before he'd lost her at auction. Calli tossed her head and nickered in recognition, only to have Edward jerk hard on the reins, yanking the mare's head back. Pink foam flew from the corners of Calli's mouth.

  Will used every ounce of self-control to keep from dragging Mason out of the saddle and grinding his smug face into the dust. He knew that showing interest in Calli would only tempt the bully to further cruelties.

  "Falcon!" Edward touched his hat with his whip. "Heard you were still among the living. Congratulations." Will hadn't seen the big man in months, but he appeared much the same, over-fed and over-sour, with a soft, almost feminine mouth, faded blue eyes, and sagging jowls.

  George nodded and mumbled a greeting. Their companion stared pointedly away and did not speak.

  "You're ill-suited to that mare," Will said, clenching his fingers into tight fists at his side.

  "She's been ruined by poor training. My horses and my slaves learn to obey me, or—"

  "It's me you've a grudge against," Will interrupted. "Not the horse. I'll give you twice what you paid for her."

  "Your credit's not good enough, Falcon," Edward said.

  "Is that an insult?" Will asked.

  "Take it for what you wish," Edward answered. "Everyone in this town knows you for a rakehell and a bounder. No better than your father."

  Will lunged for Mason.

  The stout man reined Calli around and drove his spurs into her sides in an attempt to run Will down. Calli reared, her front hooves cleaving the air inches away from his head as Mason slashed Will's face and arms with the leather crop.

  Will didn't feel the pain. With one hand, he seized Calli's bridle and forced her to a standstill. With the other, he'd locked a vise grip on Mason's wrist and wrenched it until the bat dropped from his fingers.

  In seconds, he had Mason three-quarters of the way out of the saddle and screaming for help. Releasing the mare, Will delivered two stinging openhanded slaps across Mason's face. "I demand satisfaction!" Will said. "Tomorrow. Pistols at dawn. Reynold's meadow."

  George and the third rider were off their horses and coming to Edward's aid as men spilled out of the business establishments onto the street.

  "My foot!" Edward howled. "My foot's caught in the stirrup."

  "Tomorrow, sir. Be there," Will said, letting him go and stepping back. "If you're not, I swear on my father's grave, I'll hunt you down and shoot you like a rabid dog."

  Chapter 16

  "You want what?" Lady Graymoor demanded in her most imperious tone. It was midafternoon, and a footman wearing a purple turban had just ushered Will into Lizzy's opulent, private drawing room, where the countess was feeding strawberries to a large green and yellow parrot.

  "I want your permission to ask Griffin to stand as my second," Will repeated quietly. "On the morrow."

  He'd already regretted his public attack on Mason and the challenge that followed. He wasn't afraid to face him, and he wasn't sorry to have the chance to finish the bastard. It was his own inability to control his temper when provoked that troubled him most. But it was too late for remorse. What he'd set in motion must be finished. If he didn't meet Mason at Reynold's meadow tomorrow, he'd never be able to hold his head up in Charleston again.

  Lizzy wiped her hands on a damp cloth, summoned the footman, and ordered both bird and servant away before settling herself in a chair. As though she had all the time in the world, she poured first a dollop of cream into a thin porcelain cup and then steaming black tea. She added three lumps of brown sugar, stirred, and sipped daintily. When she finally raised her gaze to meet Will's, she appeared as composed as if he'd announced that it looked like it might rain. "Sit down," she instructed. "You're not meeting Edward until dawn tomorrow. It is dawn, isn't it? You men insist on rising early for your blood sports."

  She pointed to a chair that she'd told him had once graced a French château. "Since you're not shooting anyone today, you may as well take tea with me. And do have a slice of this lemon cake. It's superb."

  Tea and lemon cake. Trust Lizzy to take life in stride. But he took a chairs because it seemed rude not to. "No tea." He glanced around the room, half hoping that Angel would be there. She wasn't. It was true he wanted Griffin to stand up with him. But asking Lizzy's permission was only a formality. The real reason he'd come was his fear of what would happen to Angel if Mason killed him in the duel.

  "Why my Griffin?" Lizzy asked. She was all in gold today, with enough gold on her throat and fingers to arm a merchant ship with cannon, shot, and swivel guns.

  "Why not?" Will answered. "Griffin served king and country for twenty years in the Grenadiers. Who knows weapons any better?"

  She took a small bite of lemon cake and fed it to the nearest spaniel. The other dogs raised their heads expectantly. "I don't doubt Griffin's competency or his levelheadedness. But surely custom demands that your second be—"

  "A gentleman," Griffin finished.

  Will turned to see the Welshman standing in the doorway. He'd come in so quietly that Will hadn't known he was there.

  "Beg pardon, sir. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I merely wished to see if I could be of assistance, and—"

  "You can," Will answered. "I want you with me tomorrow. You've done this before, haven't you?"

  "Merely as a spectator, sir. It's been years since I've handled a dueling pistol."

  "It's not something you forget. Richard Hamilton offered to stand with me. I'd rather have you."

  Griffin nodded solemnly. "Very good, sir." Then he glanced at Lady Graymoor. "My lady? Have you objections?"

  "By all that's holy, of course I have objections!" Lizzy set her cup in the saucer with such force that cream sloshed out of the silver pitcher. "Have you completely lost your mind, William? To shoot someone? To allow them to shoot at you? Over what? A horse?"

  Muscles rigid, Will stood. "How did you learn of—"

  "It's all over town." She sniffed. "Griffin told me an hour ago."

  Will scowled at her. "Mason insulted me... insulted my father's name. I had to call him out."

  "Nonsense. When is bloodshed ever the answer to a problem? And what if you kill Mason? Can the act of murder soothe your foolish pride o
r bring your father back from the dead?"

  Anger thickened Will's tone. "Edward Mason is an excellent shot. It's more likely that he'll walk away from our confrontation."

  "What does this idiocy accomplish?" Lizzy demanded. "If you lose, does your death clear the Falcon name and satisfy your creditors?"

  "I appreciate all you've done for me," he answered. "But I have every intention of fulfilling my financial obligations. If Falcon's Nest is a burden, I'll find somewhere else to live, and you can sell it to Edward at a profit."

  Lizzy chuckled. "And have that varlet for a neighbor? I'd sooner sell my spaniels. No need to take offense. I am an outspoken woman. It is one of the few benefits of age."

  "I see that it was a mistake to trouble you. I did so only because I was concerned for Angel's welfare, and I hoped you might consent to act as her guardian if anything goes wrong."

  "Her guardian? You've taken this girl to heart. Are you certain she couldn't be my missing granddaughter? My late husband's mother was a redhead. Isn't it possible—"

  "No, Lizzy. It isn't possible. She's not Elizabeth. And I'll be honest with you, I'm not certain she isn't one of the pirates I went to hunt down."

  "And why is that, William? What would make you think that?"

  "She was living with them."

  "Ah. You always did have a talent for attracting trouble." She hesitated before going on. "Is there any chance that she could be carrying your child?"

  "None whatsoever."

  "Hmmm." Lizzy sighed. "I'll look after her, of course. But I wish I understood your motives."

  "I'm in your debt. As always." Barely containing his ire, Will turned to leave.

  Abruptly, the inner door that led to Lady Graymoor's bedchamber opened, and Julia entered the room. "Will."

  Will nodded. "Julia."

  Angel followed a few steps behind her. When Angel's gaze met his, she stopped and glanced wide-eyed around the parlor, as if seeking a way to escape. Behind her, the rays of the afternoon sun streamed through a multipaned window, bathing her in golden ribbons of light.

  For an instant, Will thought he saw the shimmer of an incandescent halo around Angel's head. "I was just leaving," Will mumbled awkwardly. Damn the wench! She must be a witch. How else could she cause him to become tongue-tied as a green country lad by merely strolling into a room.

  "Stuff and mustard!" Lizzy exclaimed. "You're not stomping off in a huff. You've just come. And I've barely fired a few shots across your bow." She motioned to the women. "Join us, and pay no attention to our bickering. It's a game we play. I try to interfere in William's life, and he tries to interfere in mine. I'm better at it."

  "I'm attempting to talk some sense into William. Perhaps you can assist me. He's determined to get his head shot off tomorrow in a ridiculous duel."

  Julia's complexion paled. "Who is it, Will? Who are you meeting?" Eyes glazed with distress, she sank into the nearest chair.

  "Edward Mason," Lizzy supplied. "The oldest of the brothers and a marksman of no small order, according to repute." She peered at Griffin for verification.

  The butler nodded. "Mr. Edward Mason killed a man named Hancock in a duel over a woman near Savannah, and another, Brantley Giles, here in Charleston five years ago."

  Will couldn't tear his gaze away from Angel. Her red-gold hair was curled and nearly hidden by a lacy white cap. She wore a simple white spotted muslin dress that accentuated her breasts and clung to her shapely body like a second skin.

  He had thought her exquisite when he'd seen her clad in rags on a beach, but nothing had prepared him for this transformation. Not even the small swelling that must be a bandage high under one sleeve could mar her appearance.

  "Angel?" he asked. "How are you? Are you..." His words sounded stiff and awkward. "Are you feeling stronger today?"

  When she made no reply, he glanced at Lizzy in confusion. He couldn't understand why Lizzy had garbed Angel this way. He was about to ask, when he realized that whatever he said, he'd make a fool of himself. He hadn't expected Angel to wear a gown suitable for a lady. The result was stunning and ethereal.

  "Don't you like the dress?" Julia asked. "Emma Jones made it for a planter's wife who thought it too plain and refused it." She shook her head. "Forgive my foolish woman's prattle about gowns when you've brought us such dreadful news. Is there no other way out of your dilemma?"

  Will shrugged. "None that I know of."

  "I don't understand," Angel murmured. "What is this duel?"

  "William and Mr. Mason will appear at an appointed spot and time," Lady Graymoor said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Each will come with a friend—a second, as it were—to insure that the rules are carried out properly. William and Mr. Mason will stand back to back with loaded pistols. At a signal, each will step out fifteen paces. On the count of three, they will turn and fire. One ball each should suffice to satisfy honor."

  "Nay," Angel protested. Will's gut clenched when he saw the slightest quiver of her lower lip... the mouth he'd kissed only the night before. "'Tis surely madness."

  "Can't Father do something?" Julia asked him.

  Will shook his head. "You know better than that."

  "I'm afraid I do," Julia answered. Despair clouded her eyes. "Will's honor is at stake."

  "Damn your honor!" Angel declared. "Must ye die for honor?"

  Julia looked shocked, but Lizzy chuckled and patted the arm of the love seat beside her. "There's a child who knows foolishness when she sees it. Come, sit," she said to Angel. "William may be churlish, but he won't bite."

  "Mayhap, he does." Obediently, Angel perched on the edge of the seat with fingers threaded together like a schoolgirl.

  Will swallowed, unable to keep from remembering the feel of those fingers brushing his bare skin. Guardedly, he let his gaze slide up over her shapely breasts and slim neck to her face. Although she wore not a trace of powder or paint, he noted the smudges of color highlighting her cheekbones and lips... lips that had fitted his own so perfectly.

  Her eyes flashed with anger. "Ye cannot go through with this."

  He had no answer that she could fathom, so he didn't try. It was but one example of the vast differences between them. But he kept staring at her, thinking how beautiful she was, how much he wanted to kiss her... to pick her up in his arms and run from the room... to take ship and carry her off to some nameless Caribbean isle.

  He swallowed again. The white dress was so right for her, and yet, so wrong. Lizzy and Julia had dressed Angel as something she wasn't. Or was she? Was it something more than birth that made a woman of quality?

  "Oh, do sit down, William," Lizzy fussed. "All this hopping up and down is most disturbing." She gestured languidly in Julia's direction. "I kidnapped Miss Hamilton this morning to help with Angel. I'm too old to know what's in fashion for young people. But no one in Charleston has better taste than our Julia."

  "Yes," Will said. "I agree. And Angel will need all the friends she can get if Mason kills me."

  "I can take care of myself," Angel said. "I'll nay be beholden to any—"

  "Now, see what you've done," Lizzy fussed. "You've upset her. But you needn't worry about her welfare. Your Angel is the prime item of gossip in Charleston. Everyone wants to meet the young woman who risked her life to save yours from the pirates. And when they do make her acquaintance, they will be as charmed as I am."

  "Lady Graymoor and I are going to sponsor her," Julia said. "We intend to make her presentable to society and to find her a wealthy husband."

  "A gentleman of sense who will be more concerned with what she is, rather than where she came from," Lizzy said.

  The point hit Will hard, and he wondered if it was his own stupidity that was keeping him from taking what was offered.

  Angel shook her head. "I told them it was as likely as making samite out of seaweed. I've no book learnin'. I cannot even write my own name."

  Lizzy scoffed. "And what man ever took a wife for her reading?"

  "It's
a foolish notion," Will said, then regretted his hasty words when he saw hurt flicker in Angel's eyes.

  "And why is it foolish?" Lizzy asked. "Have I not told you a dozen times that I was a parson's daughter? If I could secure the hand of a belted earl in marriage on the strength of my trim ankles and wit, why is our plan so silly?"

  "I didn't bring her here to be auctioned off to the first squire with a pocketful of cash and an eye for a pretty face," Will answered.

  "Then why did you bring her?" Julia asked.

  "He can't answer that, my dear. He doesn't have a clue." Abruptly, Lizzy glowered at Griffin. "Go, go. No need for you to hang about and listen to every word we say. Everyone knows you are an incurable gossip."

  "You are wrong, madam," Griffin answered in his customary deep timbre. "I never repeat what I hear in this house. I only tell you what occurs elsewhere."

  "I don't believe it. Men are always the worst gossips. Far worse than the weaker sex." She waved a hand at him. "Go!"

  "As you wish, madam." Griffin's eyes twinkled.

  "I still intend to have Griffin with me tomorrow," Will said. "And I'd like your promise on the other matter."

  "William, William, you shame me. When I say I shall do a thing, it is as good as done." Lizzy poured herself a second cup of tea. "And as for Griffin, I don't doubt that he will be foolish enough to accompany you. Men love nothing more than an opportunity to play at war."

  * * *

  Julia walked with Will to Lizzy's front door. When they reached the entranceway, he paused. "Are you certain you're doing the right thing? About Angel?" he asked. "What are the chances that any gentleman of means and character would take—"

  "Your little island urchin as a bride?" Julia chuckled. "For a smart man, you know so little of your own kind."

  "It still seems to me—"

  "So you object to us finding her a husband, Will?"

  "No," he said. "Of course not, but—"

  "But what better way to provide for her?" Julia took his hand. "I know you've been more involved with her than is proper. This is best, believe me. Whether you choose to make a life with me, which is what I'd like to happen, or if you offer to another, you simply cannot throw away your future with Angel. She's lovely. Unique. Some might say a child of nature. But she's not a child, Will. She's a woman, perhaps older than I am."