Angel's Devil

by Suzanne Enoch

  "So elope."

  It was Lily's turn to gasp. "Angel. That's so—"

  "Scandalous?" Angel finished. "You love one another. For heaven's sake, show a little spirit."

  "But if we're stopped on the way to Scotland, just the two of us... " Lily shuddered.

  "You mean you would consider it?" Simon asked eagerly, kneeling at Lily's feet.

  "Well, if it weren't so improper," Lily said slowly, "but I don't think I could begin my life with you under such

  circumstances.”

  Angel sat for a moment, tallying up how many things she had done wrong since James Faring had explosively come into her life. It hardly seemed as though it could get any worse. "What if I were to be your chaperone?" she suggested.

  "Oh, Angel, I couldn't ask such a thing," Lily protested.

  "Would you?" Simon interjected. "Would you help us?"

  Angelique smiled. "Of course."

  Simon grinned in obvious relief. "Thank you." His look became more uncertain. "So how do we go about this?"

  Angel sighed. "Do I have to take care of everything?" she grumbled. "Simon, go have the carriage made ready, then pack yourself a valise. Lily and I will do the same, and we'll meet you at the stables in," she looked at the clock on the mantel, "one hour."

  "An hour?" Lily repeated, her face pale.

  "Unless, you've changed your mind," Simon said hurriedly, taking Lily's hands.

  She smiled. "No." She leaned up and kissed him. "One hour."

  Angel hurried into the kitchen and stole a napkin of bread, for she was rather hungry, then rushed upstairs into her own bedchamber to pack. Apparently thinking it was bedtime, Brutus padded in and jumped up on the foot of her bed, where he proceeded to wallow on her best cloak.

  "Brutus, get off of there," she ordered, tugging at it. He woofed at her and rolled over on his back. She gave a reluctant grin. "Brutus, please, I'm trying to make an escape. You must get off." That produced no better results, and she sighed. "You always listen to James," she complained. "Why won't you listen to me?"

  At the sound of the marquis's name, the mastiff sat up and wagged his tail, then jumped off the bed. "You like James, don't you?" she murmured, tears unexpectedly filling her eyes. "You'll be happy here at Abbonley, then, because I really don't think Mama wants you about." She would have been happy here, as well, and angrily she wiped at her tears. If she had dreamed of a place to spend the rest of her life, it would have been Abbonley, and the man she spent it with would have been James. She had been such a shrew to him, though, and he had been so angry with her.

  She closed her valise and started for the door to fetch Lily, but stopped when Brutus came away from the window to follow her. "No, Brutus," she said. "Now you may lie on the bed."

  He tried to push by her, and with another sigh Angelique pulled a piece of bread out of her pocket and tossed it on the floor for him. When he pounced on it she slammed the door on him.

  Simon's own carriage driver was waiting in his seat when they arrived out at the stables, Hastings's assistant, Toombs, was standing by the horses and watching them suspiciously. "Ready?" Simon said, coming away from the door to help Lily into the carriage. His hands were shaking, and Angel reflected that she was likely the only one who was going to enjoy the adventure.

  "Yes," she smiled, and glanced over at Toombs. "Are you certain the Wainsmores wanted us to take tea tonight?"

  "The—oh, yes, they were quite specific," Simon returned with a nervous smile.

  "Hey, Angel, where are you going?" Henry called, running down from the manor.

  "Oh, drat," Angel muttered. "We're going to see the Wainsmores, Henry. We'll be back before midnight."

  "Why?"

  "A poetry reading," Angel improvised.

  "Oh," Henry returned, obviously disappointed. He watched as Simon helped her into the coach and then climbed in behind her.

  "Go into the house, Henry," she ordered him. "It's cold out here."

  Simon signalled his driver, and they headed off toward the main road. "That's odd," Toombs muttered, looking after them.

  "What's odd?" Henry queried.

  "Wainsmore Hall is the other direction. They're heading for the north road."

  ***

  "Jamie, you're being an abominable host."

  James looked up from the estate books and raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

  His grandmother stepped the rest of the way into the library. "You are. So quit sulking and go entertain your guests."

  "I'm not sulking," he returned.

  "What do you call it, then?"

  "I'm being contemplative."

  His grandmother snorted. "I have no sympathy for you any longer. If you refuse to take my advice, then the results are your own stubborn fault."

  "Your advice being for me to kill Simon and make off with his intended, I presume?"

  "Jamie, you know full well that—"

  "I already followed your damned advice once," James interrupted, slamming the book shut. "You told me to fall in love with someone. Well, I have, and I'm much, much happier now. Thank you, Grandmama."

  "Jamie—"

  "I'm trying to be civilized about this," he growled, "and at the moment the best way for me to do that would seem to be to stay away from her. Go talk to Simon. He's won the day, so let him be the bloody host for one night."

  "I already tried that. I can't find him."

  "Well, perhaps he's with Lil—Angelique," he offered with a frown. "They are engaged, after all."

  Someone scratched at the door. "My lord, Lady Elizabeth," Hastings said, stepping into the room.

  James stood. "Good God, Hastings, what happened to you?"

  The groom was covered with road dust and grime, and looked as though he hadn't slept in days. "Just back from running an errand for Lady Elizabeth, my lord," Hastings returned, and pulled a letter from his coat to hand to the viscountess.

  Elizabeth turned it over to read the address, then touched the groom's arm. "Thank you, Hastings. You said you would make it in time, and you have."

  The groom grinned and doffed his hat at her. "I'm a man of my word, my lady," he said, and with a bow stepped back out of the room and shut the door.

  "What is it?" James queried.

  She looked at it again, then handed it over. “Happy Christmas, James," she said quietly.

  He frowned as he accepted the letter. "A bit early for the holidays, isn't..." He looked at the address and then shot a startled look at his grandmother. "This is addressed to the London Times."

  "Yes, I believe it is."

  James abruptly took a seat. "It's the announcement, isn't it?"

  "I would think so," she returned dryly.

  James shot to his feet again. "But Grandmama, you could go to prison for this!"

  "For daft Lady Niston trusting such an important missive to the London Mail? I think not."

  James grinned. "There'll be no announcement on Monday," he said softly. "I can apologize for being such a boor, and perhaps she'll—"

  "She'll admit she still loves you?" Elizabeth supplied.

  "I do hope so." His smile faded. "There is still a complication. Simon."

  "Simon will manage without her. I'm not so certain about y-"

  "Lord James!"

  James sent a frown in his grandmother's direction at the sound of Henry's voice. "What now?" he muttered.

  "I shudder to consider," she returned.

  He stepped to the door and pulled it open. "What is it, Henry?" he queried.

  The boy grabbed his hand. "Quick," he said, panting. "You have to hurry!"

  "Hurry where? Did Angelique steal Demon again?"

  "No! He stole her!"

  James raised an eyebrow. "Demon stole Angel?"

  "No! Simon stole Angel!"

  "What?"

  Henry released his hand. "Angel said they were going to the Wainsmores, but then Toombs said they were going the wrong way and taking the north road."

  "The north road
?" James repeated. There was nothing of real interest for a hundred miles along the north road, until it hooked up with the road to—

  "Gretna Green," came Lord Niston's grim voice from the doorway.

  "Oh, no, Thomas," Lady Niston whispered, clutching her husband's arm.

  "I told you we never should have made them wait that extra time," Thomas growled. "We should have known she'd never sit still for it."

  "And now you've damned her to a miserable life with my stuffy cousin," James spat, clutching at the letter.

  "What's going on?" Percival Alcott queried, sticking his head into the room.

  "Simon and Angel have eloped," Elizabeth supplied, her eyes on her grandson.

  James jammed the letter into his pocket. "No, they damn well have not," he snarled, and pushed past Alcott. "Have Toombs saddle Demon!" he yelled over his shoulder.

  He took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the ache in his leg. From the landing he could hear Brutus scratching at Angelique's door, and as soon as he'd found his greatcoat and gloves he headed for her bedchamber. When he yanked open the door the mastiff reared up on his shoulders. "Brutus, come," he said, turning for the stairs.

  Elizabeth was at the stables when he and Brutus entered. "James, calm down," she ordered.

  He pushed by her and grabbed Demon's reins. "I will bloody well not calm down," he retorted. Elizabeth started to protest, and he swung up into the saddle. "You can't have it both ways, Grandmama. And I've made my decision. She's not marrying Simon."

  "James!" she called after him, as he whistled at Brutus and kicked Demon in the ribs. "James!"

  ***

  Bumping along the road to Scotland was not nearly as fun as Angelique had thought it would be. Of course, if she'd had someone to hold hands with she might have felt differently, but it was swiftly beginning to look as though being Lily and Simon's chaperone was going to be quite dull. She sighed and crossed her arms.

  "Do you think they've missed us yet?" Lily queried, giving an anxious look out the window into the darkness.

  "Probably," Angel responded, "though by the time they figure out exactly what's happened, we'll be too far along for them to catch up."

  "You think they'll pursue us?" Lily asked faintly.

  "I doubt it, Lily," Simon comforted. "I'm certain your parents will understand eventually, and no one would have any reason to follow me."

  "Or me," Angel said forlornly. Something faint and vaguely familiar came to her ears, and she looked toward the window. "Do you hear something?"

  Simon looked over at her. "Like what?"

  "I don't know." Faintly over the rolling meadows the sound came again. "Barking?"

  "It's probably the Earl of Dusson, running his hounds."

  Angel raised an eyebrow. "In the middle of the night?" The noise came again, louder, and Simon frowned.

  "Definitely hounds," he muttered. "Maybe they got loose."

  Angel shook her head. "I know that sound." It came again, from quite nearby, and she frowned. "Oh, no."

  "What?" Lily quavered.

  "It's Brutus."

  "I thought you closed that damned beast up," Simon snapped.

  "I did," she protested. "Someone must have let him out."

  "Well, he's not coming with us."

  "Oh, yes he—"

  "Stop that bloody coach!"

  Angel jumped at James's stentorian bellow. Her heart began hammering.

  "James?" Simon queried, and leaned up to bang on the ceiling. "Stop the coach, Wicking."

  "Aye, sir."

  "What in the world does he think he's doing?" Simon grumbled, unlatching the door as the coach rolled to a halt.

  “You don't think he's after me, do you?'' Lily stammered.

  Simon looked back at her as he pushed open the door. "I don't think so, Lil—"

  He disappeared from view, closely followed by the sound of a body hitting the grass. With a gasp Angelique rushed to the door. Abbonley stood over his cousin, his face in the moonlight a mask of wounded fury. "James," she said, jumping to the ground.

  James raised his head, "I know you were angry at me," he growled, "but by God, Angelique, would you really marry him just to spite me?"

  That was it, she abruptly realized. Henry hadn't seen Lily climb into the coach. Everyone thought it was just the two of them. James was jealous. The Devil was jealous, and that was marvelous. "James," she began, taking a step forward, "it's not—"

  "It's not any of your damned affair," Simon cut in, pushing to his feet.

  "You made it my affair, when you sent me after your woman," James snarled.

  "She doesn't want you, James. Can't you see that?"

  "Simon," Angel protested, appalled. "I can speak for myself."

  Abbonley looked at her for a long moment. "I don't blame her for not wanting me," he said slowly, otherwise ignoring his cousin. "I just don't want her to be miserable because of me."

  "You came after me?" she whispered.

  "Of course I did. Angelique, I love you." He reached out as though to touch her, then lowered his hand again. "But even if you don't love me, you deserve to be with someone who will make you happy. More than anything else, I want you to be happy. I never want to see that sparkle leave your eyes."

  "Oh, James," she murmured.

  "Now just a moment!" Simon protested indignantly, red-faced. "What's going on here?"

  "Angelique is not going to marry you," James informed him, dangerous wariness running across his features.

  "I know that. Why in Lucifer's name did you drag me out of my coach and threaten to beat me to death?"

  "So you wouldn't—"

  "You didn't beat him, did you?" Lily gasped, climbing down from the coach and flouncing forward to confront James. "You evil, evil man!" She punched him in the chest.

  James raised a hand and took a step backward, his look completely befuddled. "Will someone please explain what's going on here?" He eyed Lily warily.

  Angelique stifled a grin. "Simon and Lily are eloping to Gretna Green," she said. "I'm chaperoning them."

  James blinked. "You're eloping with Lily?" he repeated, turning on his cousin.

  "Yes, I am."

  "I knew you were mooning over her, but you, you, are actually eloping with someone you're not supposed to be with?"

  It was Angel's turn to scowl. "What do you mean, you knew he was mooning over Lily?"

  "I, ah, heard them, when we were looking for Brutus."

  Angel stalked up to him. "And you didn't tell me?"

  James stood his ground. "I wanted to make you fall in love with me, first."

  "I was already in love with you."

  "You were?" Simon queried.

  "You were?" James echoed softly.

  "I was. But then you were so awful to me..." Tears began to fill her eyes, and she angrily blinked them away.

  "Angelique," he murmured.

  "And then Simon told me Desiree came to Abbonley to see you."

  "She did. But all I could think of was you."

  Simon cleared his throat. "Angel, we can't stay here all night. Come on." He gestured her back at the coach.

  "Angelique, don't leave," James whispered.

  She turned to look back at him. "I... I gave my word I'd go with them. To lessen the scandal."

  James pulled a missive out of his pocket and tossed it at Simon. "There's no scandal except what they cause for themselves."

  Simon looked down at the parchment. "The announcement?" he exclaimed.

  "Grandmama stole it. There's no engagement." He put out a hand and wrapped his fingers around Angelique's arm. "This is your decision, and you're going to have to do it on your own. Angelique's not going to Scotland with you."

  "Yes, I am."

  "No, you're not."

  Simon and Lily looked at one another, and after a moment Lily nodded. "We'll go back with you," Simon said. "We'll do it right."

  Angel wanted to ride back to Abbonley with James, and she rather thought tha
t was what he wanted, as well. Simon's more proper sense prevailed, though, and so she and Brutus climbed into the coach and they turned back for Abbonley. Simon and Lily seemed much relieved at having avoided a scandal, but all Angel could think of was James riding out in the dark beside them.

  It was nearly dawn when they turned back up toward Abbonley. Every window was blazing with light, and all of the guests and members of the household seemed to have crowded into the yard as James dismounted and pulled open the door of the coach.

  "You brought them back," Angel's mother sobbed. "Thank you, my lord."

  James shook his head. "They brought themselves back."

  Apparently everyone had realized Lily's absence as well, and another hour of explanations and apologies followed. At first Lily's parents seemed less than pleased by the ordeal, but when pressed about his interest in her, James pleaded baffled ignorance, a sterling performance, Angel thought, and after that everything seemed to fall into place quite well. Except where she was concerned.

  James had said that he loved her, but when they all repaired to the dining room for a hurried breakfast, he vanished. Amid all of the congratulations being offered to Lily and Simon, she was beginning to feel quite put out. Even Percival's nearly hysterical ravings over Lily did little to cheer her up.

  Angel couldn't stifle the tears that kept welling in her eyes. "Oh, bother," she muttered, surreptitiously wiping at them.

  She raised her head to find Lady Elizabeth looking at her. "I'm becoming such a watering pot," she complained, forcing a smile.

  "Nonsense. When someone sensible as you cries, there's always a reason."

  "Sensible? Me?"

  "Yes, you. You know, my dear, I was thinking how foolish my grandson must be feeling right now, knowing what it must have looked like when he went galloping after you when you weren't even eloping. Especially after the fight the two of you had."

  "He wasn't foolish," Angel stated. "He was romantic."

  "Hmm. Even so, it might take our devilish marquis quite some time to decide whether or not he is worthy of you. You, however, are supposed to be leaving Abbonley in two days." Elizabeth smiled. "They say all is fair in love and war. I'm not certain what you two are facing, but I think you would have a wonderful time together finding out."