Angelique found that she didn't want to move. Her fingers stilled on the polished brass of the candlestick, her eyes half closed as she listened to the sound of his voice. "Did you?"
"I did," he continued. "You almost sound as though you're more concerned with my happiness than with Miss Stanfred's."
"I..." Angelique shook herself. "I don't need to be concerned with your happiness, because you don't believe in love."
She turned to look up at him. For a moment she stood frozen, as his eyes caught her own. The marquis's fingers crept up to softly stroke her cheek, and she held her breath. He leaned toward her, and with a shiver she tilted her face up.
"Sweet Lucifer," he whispered, and abruptly yanked his hand away and turned his back on her. He cleared his throat, quite unlike the rakehell he was known to be. "Did I see you eyeing Pharaoh again this morning?"
Feeling rather ragged, Angel sagged against the mantel. "Y-yes, you did."
He strode over to the window and pushed it open, leaning out to take a deep breath. "I was under the impression that you disliked my poor horse," he said after a moment.
She managed a smile, relieved that he'd turned the conversation. "I have nothing against Pharaoh—only the price you paid for him."
James relaxed a little as well and finally turned back to face her. "My man, Algers, feels rather the same way."
Down the hall the front door opened, and the sounds of the Graham family echoed into the library. Angelique quickly headed for the door. "I should go see what they've been up to," she muttered.
"Angelique," he called after her, using her given name for the second time. "I'm sorry. That won't happen again."
"I know.” She—they—had simply become caught up in the game. For Simon's sake, they could never let it happen again. Mistake or not, though, the look she had fleetingly seen in his eyes caused her to question feelings she would rather have let be—particularly the ones surrounding Simon Talbott, and whether or not she was in love with him.
***
"My lord, several coaches are approaching."
James looked up from his perusal of the estate ledgers and nodded at his butler. "Thank you, Simms. Alert the horde, and I'll be along in a few moments."
A minute later four pairs of feet ran past his office, to the accompanying sound of children's excited laughter and a large dog barking, and he sat back and smiled. His household, it seemed, was about to become even more boisterous. His life had given him little exposure to children, and to his surprise he was beginning to believe he had been missing something.
Yesterday, after he had witnessed his nodcock cousin kissing Angelique with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop, he had begun to wonder what might have happened if he had stayed in London and Simon had been the one to go off to war. It was fairly obvious--Angelique was set on some sort of escape from her parents, and had settled on his cousin as the one to set her free. From her words in the library, it seemed she'd realized she wanted more from Simon than that. For the past few days James had been trying to visualize her in the dark rooms of Turbin Hall, and had been completely unable to conjure the image. Turbin was no place for a sprite such as Angel.
Hearing her laughter as she greeted Lily Stanfred some fifteen minutes later cheered him considerably. He noted that while he received a smile from Miss Stanfred, Simon had somehow earned an on dit about the girl's dressmaker and apparently found it highly amusing.
The Graham twins had young Jeremy Stanfred by the arms as they dragged him toward the stables. James herded the remaining guests inside to their respective bedchambers, and announced that they would be picnicking by the lake at noon.
That accomplished, he made his way up to the attic to recover the fishing poles he had dug out yesterday. On the way down, he paused by his grandmother's bedchamber and rapped on the door. At her acknowledgment he entered. "The Stanfreds have arrived," he told her, leaning against the door frame.
Elizabeth looked up from the dressing table as her maid finished putting up her long white hair. "I would have to be deaf or dead not to know that," she returned.
"Do you picnic with us?" he asked, grinning at her caustic words.
She grimaced. "You and your al fresco dining." She sighed. "As matron of the house and the only proprietor of proper behavior in the family, I suppose I must."
"Yes, Grandmama." He pushed away from the frame.
It was clear from young Jeremy Stanfred's awestruck expression as James approached the children, that the Graham twins had been rather liberal in their description of him and of the Abbonley stables. "My lord marquis," he bowed, "I've... I've brought my Hannibal. Do you think you might teach us to jump like India and Henry?"
Henry leaned toward his friend. "You can call him Lord James," he whispered. "He's all the crack, Jeremy. Much more fun than most grownups."
"I believe I can manage a few more lessons," James chuckled, rumpling Henry's hair. "Care to have a go at these?" he queried, holding up the fishing poles.
"Oh, yes, Lord James!"
With that he herded Brutus and the laughing, excited children down to the picnic area his servants had prepared in the shade of a stand of elms. He found himself grinning as he watched the rest of the party arrive and sit down to eat. Abbonley had always been his place where he could be alone, though his own company was rarely comforting. Since the Grahams had arrived, the estate seemed more like a home than simply a place to escape to, and the sound of laughter and voices in the hallways reminded him of when he had been very young, before his mother had died.
The children finished eating and took the poles down by the old dock, where the ground was firmer. He couldn't see if they were catching anything, but from the shrieks of laughter he doubted it.
"You again triumph as a host," Angelique said merrily as she approached, a strawberry tart in one hand. He had noticed her fondness for the berry, and had instructed his cook to have it present at every meal. "I don't think they'll be catching anything, however." She chuckled. "Mama refused to let them dig for worms, so they have no bait."
"We'll have to see to that." James spied one of the servants approaching with a fresh platter of thin-sliced ham. "John, bring that down to the children," he instructed, "and inform them that it makes good bait."
"Yes, my lord." With a glance at him, the servant walked down to the shore. A cheer erupted as he handed the ham over to Jeremy.
"Oh, dear," Angel murmured, and he turned to look at her.
She was gazing toward the manor, and abruptly began laughing. A moment later he joined her. Grandmama Elizabeth had arrived for the picnic. Evidently, however, she had decided she had indeed had enough of dining on the ground, for trailing behind her were servants carrying, in procession, a chair, a writing table, a tablecloth and a canopy.
"She is an original," he muttered.
"Like her grandson," Angel concurred.
He looked back at her to find her hazel eyes dancing with mischief. "To which grandson are you referring?" he queried, raising an eyebrow.
"Tell me you've changed your mind about Lily," she whispered, taking a step closer.
"Tell me you've changed your mind about Simon," he murmured back, not surprised at her shocked expression. He was rather shocked that he had said it aloud, himself.
"Why should I?" she returned hotly.
"And why should I?" he repeated.
Before she could reply, Simon was there. "Come back and finish eating, Angel. Lily's been telling me an amusing story about Miss Delon which you must hear."
"Oh, by all means, excuse me," James said, sweeping a bow. "I would hate to keep you from that."
As he had expected, she scowled at him. "You certainly are puffed up with your own consequence today," she noted disdainfully, then turned away.
"Goosecap," he replied smoothly.
She whirled around and opened her mouth to make a retort. At the last moment she looked over at his cousin, snapped her jaw shut again, and with a twitch of her s
kirts turned to lead Simon back to where Lily waited.
James stood for a moment watching the three of them. Lily Stanfred was perhaps the more classically beautiful of the two young ladies, but there was a blithe warmth and compassion in Angelique that set her completely apart from any woman he had ever met. He only hoped Simon knew that, and that his cousin would appreciate what a rare and precious gift he had been given. With a sigh, James turned to the lake to offer his assistance to the children in their quest for supper.
Chapter Nine
I've figured it out, you know." James looked up as Simon squatted beside him.
"Figured what out?" he queried uneasily, fiddling with a pebble. "Try it again, Jeremy!" he called as the boy and his gelding crossed the field they had piled with make-shift jumps.
"Miss Stanfred. I saw you eyeing her. She's why you invited the Stanfreds here, isn't she? It wasn't to aid me, it was so you could take care of your own matrimonial business."
"And?" James prompted, straightening to ease the strain on his bad leg. "Lean a little further forward, Jeremy!"
"And? And it's completely unacceptable, that's what." Simon stood to frown at his cousin.
"Why? What's wrong with arranging two marriages with one holiday? I thought it rather economical of me."
"Good God, James, you are the most cold-blooded bastard I've ever encountered. That poor girl will be like a lamb to the slau—"
"Why don't you stop worrying about my affairs and tend your own?" James snapped. "And start asking yourself why in the world a spitfire like Angelique Graham would want to marry a clod like you."
"I am not a clod," Simon said quietly.
James took a breath, realizing he had overstepped his bounds. "No, you're not. Unlike myself, you are a gentleman. I apologize."
"And Angel's not a spitfire. She simply needs a husband, a household, and children to... settle her down. That's all."
It would be easier to blanket sunshine, James thought, but said nothing.
"Percival was appalled to hear I was coming to Abbonley," Lily told Angelique, giggling. "He insisted I would be ruined by the mere presence of the marquis."
Angel looked over her shoulder. They appeared to be alone in the garden, but she remained uncertain whether she should let Lily know of Abbonley's plans. "He's been a wonderful host," she said instead.
Lily leaned over to smell a cluster of Madame Hardy roses. "I'm always afraid to talk to him. He seems so fierce, and I just know whatever I say will be foolish, and he'll give me a set-down."
"He's not so terrible," Angelique offered.
"Not for you. You stand right up to him." Lily blushed. "I could never do that."
Angel tried to think of something comforting to say, but Lily was right. The Marquis of Abbonley was far too fierce for her, and in his striking presence she would be nothing more than a small, beautiful decoration. And, Angel realized, this whole thing was her fault. If she hadn't tried so hard to find just the wrong match for Abbonley, he might have settled on someone else entirely. Now he would look at Lily with his beautiful emerald eyes, and she would only look away.
"Ah, my two favorite ladies," Simon smiled, coming around the corner. He took their hands and brought both to his lips at the same time. "May I join you on your walk?"
"Of course." Lily smiled prettily.
Angelique glanced at her friend. “Of course," she echoed.
They strolled about the grounds for quite some time before Angel realized she hadn't heard anything from the twins or Jeremy, and she set off down to the lake to find them. There was no sign of them by the old dock, and with a sigh she started up along the north shore. A few clouds skittered across the sky, and she stopped to look out across the lake. It was beautiful here, like a small piece of paradise.
A splash several yards out into the water caught her attention. A second splash followed a moment later, but this time she saw the pebble fly overhead. She turned to see James Faring seated on the grass a short distance behind her, Brutus at his side. "What are you doing out here?" she queried, embarrassed at being found daydreaming.
"Following you," he answered promptly. "What are you doing out here?"
"Looking for the children."
"They're out behind the stable," he informed her, rising and brushing off the back of his buckskins, "plotting something I haven't been let in on yet." He motioned her back toward the manor.
"What were you following me for?" she asked.
The marquis strolled beside her, picking the bark off a twig with his fingers. "Other than the fact that you were heading off into the woods alone, I was wondering if you'd like to ride with me in the morning. If you'd like to take Pharaoh out." He flung the twig away. "I'm certain it will leave your parents insane with alarm."
She chuckled and looked over at him. His limp was nearly vanished, and a healthy tan had replaced the tired pall he had worn in Dover. Brutus trotted along at his heels, looking the very soul of domesticated obedience. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Get Brutus to listen to you. I have to offer him all sorts of bribes to get him to do anything. And he hardly listens to anyone else at all."
James laughed. "I actually don't expect anything of him. Perhaps I have the best understanding of misbehavior, and he thinks me a kindred spirit."
"And I am only a distant second in disobedience."
Abbonley shrugged, still grinning. "I suppose that depends on whose rules you are supposed to follow." He gestured toward the stables. "What about Pharaoh?"
"I would be pleased to go riding with you."
James gave a smile and nodded. "Seven-thirty?"
"That's fine."
He paused as they reached the edge of the trees. "You'd best go back the rest of the way without me," he commented softly, "or everyone will wonder what you and I were doing alone together in the forest." The Devil slowly reached out toward her, and then brushed a leaf off her sleeve, running his fingers down the patterned muslin covering her arm. "We want you married, and not ruined now, don't we?" he murmured.
Angelique cleared her throat, clasping her hands together to conceal the fact that they had begun shaking. "Of course."
"I'll go round up the children." He looked down at her with a slight, amused smile, then turned for the stables. Angel continued toward the house. Flirting with James Faring was quite... exhilarating, and she would miss it once she and Simon were married.
The table that evening was even noisier than before, despite the fact that the children, there in honor of the fact that they had provided the main course, spent most of the meal whispering and giggling to one another. They were up to something. If she couldn't discover what it was, she would ask for James's assistance. If anyone could get them to confess, it would be the marquis.
She had never seen James Faring as good-humored as he was that evening, and she spent a great deal of time watching him. He caught her gaze on several occasions, his eyes twinkling, and she could see why so many women found him attractive. By the end of the evening he even had Lily giggling, and Angel watched as her friend's parents shared a hopeful glance. The marquis's plan was apparently going better than her own, and that hardly seemed fair. The whole reason the Graham horde had come to Abbonley was so he could convince her parents to marry her off to someone else.
Angelique frowned. Not to someone else. To Simon, of course.
The next morning, the marquis was at the stables before her. It was chilly, so she had dressed in her heavy emerald riding habit with a matching hat perched rakishly on her hair. James was splendid in a black jacket and buckskin breeches, his calf-length Hessian boots shined to such perfection she could almost see her reflection in them.
"Good morning, Lady Angel," he greeted her. "Ready for a good run?"
She nodded vigorously. "Absolutely."
He threw her into the saddle, and Pharaoh turned his head to look at her. Hastings was to accompany them, but from the look James gave him as he swung up o
n Demon, the groom was going to be left far behind. They started off at a fast clip toward the lake, heading for the south shore. "Are we going all the way around?" she asked, urging Pharaoh even with Demon.
"If you like," he responded.
"I would."
He sent Demon into a canter, and the hunter smoothly matched them. They kept to that pace for several miles, and as predicted, Hastings dropped out of sight through the trees behind them. The morning air was fresh, and the lake through the trees glittered with the reflection of the early morning sun. When the marquis glanced over at her he had a smile on his face, and she returned it.
"This is wonderful," she laughed, tossing her head. At that her hat came loose and, before she could grab it, fell to the ground. "Oh, drat," she muttered.
The marquis pulled up. "Allow me," he offered, and yanked Demon around to head back up the path. They reached the hat, and without slowing he swung over to hang halfway out of the saddle. He scooped it up without pausing and turned to bring it back to her.
It was a spectacular piece of horsemanship, particularly on an animal as spirited as Demon, but she wasn't about to tell him so. "Show off," she said instead.
"You have rather a lot of trouble with your hats, Angelique," he grinned, and handed it back to her.
"Only when you're present," she returned, trying to pin the thing back over her windblown hair.
"That's the first time I've been accused of causing a woman to lose her hat," he responded immediately. "Perhaps things are looking up for me."
She understood the insinuation and blushed, but was distracted from making a reply by her uncooperative chapeau. "Blast," she grumbled.
"Do you need assistance?" he asked, urging Demon closer.
Before she could respond he had taken the pin out of her hand and was fastening her hat back to her hair. A tingling shiver ran down her spine at his touch, and she held still so he wouldn't pull away.
"There, I think that'll do," he said after a moment. He chuckled. "In fact, you may never be able to get it off again."
She laughed and he grinned at her, his eyes merry. Her heart gave a queer flop, but then he abruptly stiffened and looked toward the lake. "What is it?"
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