at his interruptions. "And then I would be a wealthy widow,
and you and I could have had anything we wanted. Don't
you see?"
"I begin to," James muttered. And he had thought himself cold-blooded. "Though you might have considered that I could have afforded to give you anything you might have wished for, myself. You might have waited for my return."
"Your father would have cut you off in a minute if you'd married me after that."
"Ah," James said, examining his nails, "so my wealth and title do figure into this somewhere."
"Of course they do," she snapped. "I'm not a fool, you know."
"No. You're not. But I was." A fool to ever have become tangled in Desiree Langley's arms.
"You begin to understand, then," she murmured, misunderstanding. "And you see what troubles me now. Clarence hasn't died, even after five years. Every night I see that wrinkled old man in my bed, when it should be you."
"Ah," he muttered, waiting to hear what abomination would next come from those ruby lips.
"But now we can be together. We were meant to be together," she whispered, and leaned up to kiss him.
That kiss answered one question. He was no longer in love with Desiree. In fact, what he felt most strongly was revulsion. "Am I to kill him, then?" he asked slowly.
"Of course not." She kissed him again. "We'll be in London all winter."
"And?" he murmured, hearing his grandmother calling his name.
"There's no reason you couldn't spend the winter at Faring House in town."
For a long moment he looked down at her. "I've been away from Abbonley for two years, Desiree. I think I should like to spend the winter here."
She returned his gaze. "Who is she?" she asked after a moment. She continued to look at him. "That girl from the ball, isn't it? I thought I recognized that look. You used to look at me that way. Angel Graham, yes?"
"It's no concern of—"
"I've been hearing for the past year how desperately her parents wish her to settle down and become proper. Do you really think you're the one to do that?"
"People change, Desiree."
She shook her head, giving a small, sensuous smile. "No, they don't. Your cousin was courting her as well, wasn't he? Tsk, tsk, James. I'm beginning to believe you can only be interested in a woman someone else possesses." She looked at him from beneath her lashes. "Which still leaves me, my Devil."
"Lord James!" Henry called from somewhere close by.
He took her proffered hands. "People do change. If I've learned nothing else in five years, I do know better than to listen to anything which flows past that forked tongue of yours."
"James," she protested, trying to pull free.
He released her. "I may not be the one for Angelique, but neither am I so foolish as to wish to share your bed, you viper. Get put of my house, Desiree. I never want to set eyes on you again."
"But you love me," she protested.
He shook his head. "I loved you once. I do not any longer." There was someone else he loved, someone whom he would never have, both because of his own stupidity and because of the woman standing in front of him. "Get out, before I have you thrown out."
"You wouldn't," she gasped.
He looked at her for a long moment, trying to figure out what he had seen in her five years ago to make him ever do such a thing as kill someone to win her affection. "No," he said, considering. "I'll do it myself."
He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. She began shrieking as he yanked it open and dragged her into the hallway. "Simms!" he bellowed, and without a word the butler pulled open the front door. James dragged Desiree onto the drive beside her coach, and then let her go. She fell on her backside, still cursing at him, and very little resembling the beautiful ornament he had once found so infatuating. "Fly away on your broomstick, witch, before someone burns you at the stake."
He turned around and strode back inside, and Simms slammed the door behind him with a gratifying thud. Elizabeth and a wide-eyed Henry stood beside the butler.
"Thank God you've that much sense left, anyway," his grandmother said, waving her bone fan in front of her face. She was quite out of breath.
"It did feel rather... satisfying," he conceded.
"Well, you have another worry at the moment."
"And what might that be?"
Lady Elizabeth swung her fan toward the back of the manor, nearly cracking it against the side of her grandson's head. "That girl has gone mad," she announced.
James looked in the direction she indicated. "Angelique?"
She grabbed his sleeve and tugged him forward. "You must go to the stables at once, before it's too late."
"Shouldn't you be complaining to Simon?"
"He'd never understand. Go!" She turned and hurried for the stairs. "I'll get the smelling salts," she called over her shoulder. "Simms!" she bellowed.
James took a moment to grin down at Henry. “I do believe Grandmama has bats in her belfry."
Henry giggled. "I like her," he whispered.
He nodded. "So do I. And I think I'd best go see what your sister is up to."
Angelique had been right when she had called him a fool. None of this was her fault, or even Simon's fault. It was his own. For the first time he knew what love, real love, was, and he couldn't have it.
Desiree had been right about one thing. He was still the Devil, and he could think of no reason in the world why Angelique would want him, even if he hadn't behaved like a complete boor. She would certainly gain no respectability from him. As he came around the corner he was nearly run down by Toombs, the assistant groom.
"Oh, my lord," the groom panted, "thank God. I tried to stop her, but she got around me and let India and Admiral out, and I had to fetch them back."
James gave a reluctant smile. "Outflanked you, did she?"
"My lord, you don't understand. She rode off, and I couldn't stop her."
"Unescorted?" James asked, frowning. It was a bit late in the day to go off riding, much less without an attendant. "Where's Hastings?"
"Oh, Lady Elizabeth sent him off on an errand. But you don't understand."
"Understand what, man?" James demanded, exasperated.
"She rode off on your horse," Toombs announced, backing away.
"What?”
The groom nodded, swallowing. "She rode off on Demon."
"That little hoyden," James cursed. So that was what Grandmama Elizabeth had been talking about. "Saddle Pharaoh. Now."
"Yes, my lord."
Too impatient to wait, James followed Toombs into the stable and quickly helped him rig out the hunter. "Which way did she go?" he barked, swinging into the saddle.
"Toward the village, my lord."
James kicked Pharaoh and lay flat along the stallion's withers as they passed under the low door of the stable. Angel had a good head start, and if Demon hadn't thrown her and she was lying somewhere with her neck broken, he would be hard pressed to catch her. His heart pounding, he urged the bay into a gallop and headed east over the low rise.
In a few minutes he spotted them far ahead under the scattered trees. Demon had clearly taken the bit in his teeth and was heading toward thicker forest, where he would have an easy time scraping Angelique off on some low-hanging branch and heading home in time for his oats. Brutus pounded beside them, trying to keep up but no doubt doing more harm than good. A yowling dog was hardly the thing to put Demon back in good spirits.
Angel, riding astride with her skirts hiked up, managed to haul the stallion into a turn that would take them back to the meadow. James yanked Pharaoh around to head them off. As they cleared the trees she saw him, and choosing the most practical, and dangerous, option, she let go the reins and tumbled out of the saddle. She rolled a few feet in the long grass, then lay still.
"Angelique!"
James reached her and threw himself out of the saddle, terrified she had broken her neck after all. He wasn't prepared for the absolute te
rror that jolted through him at the thought that she might be hurt. It seemed that no matter what his mind told him would be best to do, his heart refused to give up the idea that he loved her more than he'd ever loved anyone in his life.
As he knelt beside her, Angel slowly sat up to brush grass and leaves off the front of her habit.
"Are you all right?" he asked urgently.
"No," she answered calmly, examining the soiled hem of her skirt. "I've torn my dress." With that she began sobbing, wrapping her arms around her knees. He put a hand on her shoulder, but she shoved away from him. "Don't touch me."
"You might have been killed," he said, furtively plucking leaves off her back.
"Oh, it was stupid, stupid, stupid," she sobbed, rocking back and forth. "I should have known you would have a beastly, ill-mannered horse."
"If you hadn't gotten on you wouldn't have fallen off," he pointed out.
"I didn't fall," Angel retorted, her pride apparently intact. "I jumped."
"It seems to have had about the same result," James said dryly. "I warned you about Demon."
"I thought you were showing off," she said flatly. "I didn't come out here to be rescued."
"Then why did you steal my horse, ride out here, and, ah, jump off?"
"I didn't steal him," she retorted, keeping her face turned away. "I just wanted to show you."
"Show me what?"
"That you're not always right about everything."
"Hm. Well, apparently I was right about Demon," he returned in the same tone. She shot him a quick, angry look. There was dirt smudged on her nose, and he thought she had never looked more beautiful.
"Go away," she sniffed.
"Go away?" he repeated densely.
"I don't wish to speak with you any longer."
So she still hated him. He had done an excellent job of that, anyway. "I can't very well leave you out here, and you couldn't ride Demon back even if you wanted, because he's halfway to the stables by now."
"Then I'll take Pharaoh."
"I'm not walking," he said flatly. Her hair had come loose from its pins, and as he plucked grass out of it, he barely resisted the urge to run his fingers through the long tresses.
"How very ungallant of you," she sniffed, wiping at her eyes.
He flinched, and hoped she didn't notice. "You said you didn't come out here to be rescued," he reminded her. "I'm only doing as you wish."
"Go away, or I shall..."
"Shall what?" he pursued, curious as to what she would threaten him with.
She bowed her head. "I don't know," she muttered, then straightened again. "But it shall be dreadful," she warned.
"I have no doubt it shall be." He rose and despite her protests pulled her up after him. She swayed unsteadily, but refused his offer of support. Instead she shoved at him, and turned her back.
Brutus had been sitting to one side, and as James took an angry step forward, the dog stood and growled at him. "Oh, et tu, Brute?" he grunted.
"Good dog," Angelique encouraged, but that apparently convinced Brutus that everything was fine again, for his ears came forward and he wagged his tail.
"I'm sorry," James said mockingly. "Perhaps I should have let you fall on your head. Maybe that would have knocked some sense into you."
"Into me?" she said indignantly, turning to face him again. "I'm not the drunken pig."
"No," James retorted, "you're the ill-mannered hoyden." She swung her fist at his face, but this time he was ready. He intercepted her wrist, holding it firmly in his fingers. They spent a moment glaring at one another, and then she jerked free, and with a flounce of her skirts started across the meadow with an indignant limp. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, grabbing Pharaoh's reins to follow.
"I'm going back," she snapped over her shoulder.
Because of the tall grass she had to lift her skirts to her knees, and despite the fact that he was angry enough to spit, he had to enjoy the view. It was no good being a rake if one couldn't admire a beautiful woman, whatever the circumstances. "Oh," he said, trying to cool his temper. "Well, I'm heading the same way. Care to ride double?"
"No."
She continued toward the manor, and he slowly drew even with her, certain she would give in and agree to ride the rest of the way. In accordance with her well-documented stubbornness, however, she never even gave Pharaoh a longing glance.
It made him feel rather unchivalrous, and he cleared his throat. "Angelique?"
"I'm not speaking to you."
"You've said that already."
"Good. I'm pleased to know you're not deaf."
"I'm trying to apologize," he pursued through clenched teeth. "If you love Simon, I wish you to know I won't... interfere in your lives." He desperately wanted to tell her about Simon and Lily, but it was no longer any of his damned business. "And I wish you all happiness."
“How gallant,'' she muttered, staring at him for a moment before she turned away again. "If I cared what you wished."
Finally, James decided, it was safe to conclude that things couldn't possibly be any worse.
Chapter Fourteen
That was quite a spill you took, Miss Angel," Tess said as she lay Angel's blue muslin over the back of a chair. "Your habit is a sight. Are you all right?"
"I only hurt my pride," Angel replied glumly, examining her ruined skirt.
It had not gone at all as she had planned. She had thought to show James Faring that... well, something that would let him know she wasn't to be trifled with. Considering that Demon had nearly torn her arms out of their sockets and that she had a twisted ankle and scratches up and down her arms, she wasn't certain who had been taught a lesson.
Railing at James as she had, made her feel like a complete shrew. It was either keep herself furious at him, though, or throw herself into his arms and destroy what little scrap of respectability remained to her. Everything was so confusing. James Faring had stolen her heart, and she had no idea how to recover it, or how to make do without it.
Sitting upstairs and missing dinner seemed rather childish, but she was in no mood to see the disappointed looks her mother and father would share as they shook their heads over their incorrigible daughter. Angelique straightened. Perhaps if she behaved badly enough they would call the wedding off altogether. After a moment she slumped. She had no wish to be sent off to Australia with Brutus, and that was beginning to seem the next step down from where she had set herself.
Finally, she limped downstairs to find Simon and apologize for her latest misbehavior. Before she could find him, though, he found her.
"Can I speak to you for a moment?” he said in a quiet voice, coming out of the morning room and glancing up and down the hallway.
"Of course. I need to speak to you, as well." She stepped inside, turning to watch as he shut the door. "I know I've been behaving abominably," she grimaced, "And I'm truly sorry. It's just that—"
"My behavior has been even worse." Simon faced her, his expression solemn and anxious.
"What do you mean?" she queried, turning to find a seat. To her surprise Lily was there as well, seated by the fire.
"It's nothing you've done. I want you to know that. I've always known of your... high spirits. The problem is, well, it's me. You and I are friends, but—"
Angel groaned. "I knew I'd ruined everything."
Simon took her hand. "No, Angel. It's not you. Truly. I've... oh, damnation," he swore uncharacteristically, and turned a pleading look on Lily.
"Angel, we didn't mean it to happen," Lily said, taking her other hand.
"For what to happen?" Angel demanded, confused. The two of them looked at one another again, and then she knew. "Oooh..."
“I won't back out of our marriage," Simon said hurriedly, his expression tortured. "I gave my word to you. I just, well, I couldn't say nothing. It wouldn't be fair."
"You love Lily," Angel said slowly, looking from one to the other. "And Lily loves you."
"Oh, A
ngel, I feel so awful," Lily said mournfully, tears welling in her eyes. "I know how you feel about Simon, and—"
"It's all right," Angel said firmly, giving a small smile. "Really, it's all right." She wasn't certain what one was supposed to feel upon hearing this sort of news, but she was fairly certain it wasn't relief. That, however, was exactly what she was feeling.
Simon shut his eyes. "I'm relieved you understand," he muttered. "Lily and I have decided we will never see one another again. I will make this up to you, Angel. I promise."
"We both will," Lily sniffed, wiping at her eyes.
"Simon, I can't marry you," Angel said. "I won't even attempt to blame it on you and Lily, because to be perfectly honest, I'm happy for you."
"But then, why?"
"I don't love you," she said simply.
"You don't—" Simon sat back and looked at her. "James."
Angel blushed. "What do you mean?"
“You love him, don't you?''
Her blush deepened. "Simon—"
"Don't you?" he pursued.
"Yes," she scowled, for it was quite a troublesome circumstance, and growing more so by the minute.
He sighed. "He won't give you any respectability."
"I know."
"And he claims to have sworn off love." He looked down for a moment. "Even with all of the things he's said about Desiree, when she arrived here today I truly wasn't certain whether he'd turn her away or not. I'm—"
Angel gasped. "What? Desiree was here?"
Simon nodded. "Grandmama said she wanted James back." He gave a small smile. "He refused. Adamantly, from what I heard."
"He is over her, then!" Angel looked over at her companions and cleared her throat. "He said he was," she explained, embarrassed.
"I wonder why?" Simon murmured.
"Well, at the moment we're not even speaking, so I have no idea," Angel commented ruefully. She sat forward and rubbed her hands together. "But what do we do about the two of you?"
"Nothing."
"That's no answer," she protested, having heard enough of that word. "You must break the engagement."
"But that will cause a scandal for you," Simon argued, paling.
"Then I shall."
Simon grabbed her hand again. "Angel, you mustn't. Even if there wasn't the obstacle of the announcement, Lily's parents have become convinced that James will offer for her. I cannot compare to a marquis, and certainly not to one as propertied and wealthy as James."
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