Angelina

by Janet Woods

  He drew her on to a seat under the drooping branches of a willow tree and gazed at her. “These things are part of the ritual. A good mama needs to find a husband for her daughter, and men need wives to bear them children.”

  “Then why are you not married?”

  Had anyone else asked him that question Rafe would have considered it impertinent, but her expression was so trusting and guileless, he forgave it. “I’d like nothing more than to marry and have children. Unfortunately, I have nothing to offer a woman except a home, which is falling about my ears. I could not even guarantee to put food on the table.”

  “But if you married Caroline Pallister...?”

  “You’ve been listening to gossip,” he chided and offered her a rueful grin. “I admit I’ve considered taking Lady Caroline to wife, but my fortunes seem to have improved a little of late. However, if they take a turn for the worst...” He shrugged. “Perhaps I’m too proud. Ravenswood is badly in need of restoration and I’m sure Lady Caroline would make an excellent wife, but...”

  “Not for the Master of Ravenswood.” She slanted her head to one side, holding him in a steady regard. “Perhaps I’ll marry you, Rafe. You’re not proud with me, and I have wealth enough to restore Ravenswood.”

  “Are you proposing to me, Angelina?” Amusement surged like a river through his veins. He was about to throw back his head and laugh when he saw the gravity of her sweet face. The laughter was strangled in his throat, replaced by a lump when she said earnestly.

  “Although Lady Caroline is a worthy person I think you’d be unhappy wed to her.”

  “And you wish to save me from unhappiness, my sweet?”

  The enormity of her impulsive proposal began to dawn on her, for colour crept under her skin and she lowered her eyes to her lap. “Your happiness means much to me, Rafe. I daresay you think me a foolish child, which of course I am.” Her hands covered her face as she whispered in anguish. “If you laugh at me I shall die a thousand deaths.”

  Rafe had an urge to reach out and comfort her, but something stopped him. He’d not noticed any behaviour in Angelina that suggested she nurtured romantic feelings towards him, on the contrary. She seemed to be unaffected, affectionate, and unawakened. Her innocence and honesty endeared her to him. She was fair of face and figure, intelligent, accomplished, and wealthy. She’d be a perfect wife for him.

  A frown creased his brow. He’d be doing Angelina an injustice if he wed her. He liked her too much to take advantage of her wealth.

  Catching the gleam of her eyes through her fingers, he realised she was observing his reaction. He tried a smile. “It’s highly unusual for a man to receive a marriage proposal. I’m at a loss of how to answer.”

  “You’ve already given me an answer.” Lowering her hands, she gazed at him with a shamed expression in her eyes. “I deserve your derision. I’ve been much too forward, and presumptuous.”

  “You deserve only my thanks.” Rising to his feet Rafe, pulled her from the bench and tenderly stroked a finger the length of her cheek.

  For a moment she closed her eyes and turned her face against his caress. He saw the woman in her then. His breath caught in his throat as his brain registered the delicate, sensual beauty of the face that rose from the creamy column of her throat. Her perfectly curved lips and the tendrils of gold hair grazing against her skin were exquisite, her eyes with their sweep of dark lashes arrestingly lovely. For the first time, he saw her as a desirable woman. “I’m unworthy of you, Angelina,” he murmured.

  “I know.” She gave him a cruel, cat-like smile. “You need not patronise me, Rafe. I’m aware you have a preference for married women. Perhaps I should marry Nicholas Snelling and take you for a lover, as Rosabelle intends to do when she marries the Marquis.”

  Stunned, he dropped his hand and stared at her. Her eyes were wide, and cold with anger, yet her lips trembled as if she was about to weep. She turned, picked up the folds of her skirt and started to run.

  “Wait.” He realised she lashed out at him from humiliation rather than anger. He was astounded she’d heard whispers of his private life - even more astounded that Rosabelle should make such an outrageous suggestion to her.

  Catching her up in no more than half a dozen strides he brought her to a halt. She didn’t struggled when he turned her to face him, but her stillness spoke of a deeply felt hurt. His heart went out to her and he chose his words carefully. “I value your company and friendship beyond measure, Angelina.” Gazing at the dilapidated house, he shrugged. “I’d watch Ravenswood crumble to dust rather than lose your respect by marrying you for your fortune.”

  “My fortune is but poor excuse, Rafe, since I did not earn it. Were we to wed it would simply be passed on to any children we might have.”

  He searched her face. Despite her obvious embarrassment, she held his gaze in a way that made him ashamed. His answer had hidden the real reason for his refusal, and she deserved only honesty.

  “Pride forbids me from accepting a proposal from a woman. You’ve taken me aback, Angelina. Will you forgive me for being so clumsy?”

  She attempted a laugh, but it had a forlorn sound to it. “Only if you forgive my stupidity for putting you in such an awkward position.”

  He grinned a little. “Now you’re wounding my feelings, Angel. I was flattered by your regard.”

  She did not smile. “You must allow me to apologise. I made unfair accusations which I wish to withdraw.”

  He was uncomfortably aware her accusations had bordered on the truth. “We’ll consider them withdrawn and forgotten.”

  A glimmer of a smile touched her lips. “Then we’re friends again.”

  “We’ve never been anything less.” He had meant to kiss her cheek, but his lips slid round to her mouth. Its quivering fullness was sweet, tasting of the raspberries she’d eaten. Her lips parted a little and his hands scanned her small waist and pulled her against him.

  She gave a small gasp as his tongue flickered into the dewy sweetness of her mouth. Well aware he’d not enjoyed a woman for some time, Rafe allowed the kiss to develop into a longer one.

  Angelina’s limbs seemed to melt. Her mind told her she should not be allowing this, but the sensations chasing through her body were entirely new, and unexpectedly pleasurable. One minute she seemed to be tingling and alive, the next she was without coherent will or thought.

  She became aware of the silky material of her blouse, of its coolness against her skin when the breeze sent it against her body. The swell of her breasts seemed softer and fuller when pressed against the warm body of Rafe. They throbbed with an awareness of wild joy. His strength emphasised her softness and femininity. She was alive to him, her body was sweetly troubled by him, awakened to feelings she hadn’t known exist.

  The diagrams in the medical books she’d read suddenly took on a new meaning. All this knowledge from one kiss, she mused. Like Eve and the apple. But that was the original sin! Panicking a little, she slid her hands against his chest, pushing him away.

  For a moment they stared at each other, both a little surprised by what had occurred between them.

  Rafe’s eyes hooded over. “I’d better take you back to your brother,” he said quietly. “He’ll be wondering where you are.” Without another word, he took her hand in his and led her back towards the house.

  * * * *

  Elizabeth did not waste any time. Her husband was still in his study, and although he’d left instructions not to be disturbed, she’d determined to risk his ire and charge him with what she’d learned.

  She didn’t bother knocking. Opening the door she slipped inside, then closed it and stood with her back pressed against the oak panels. “I wish to speak to you on a matter of great urgency, Thomas.”

  Her husband turned and gazed at her. He looked haggard, she thought, and she briefly regretted the necessity to confront him when it was obvious Frey’s plight weighed heavily on his mind. Yet she knew his anger would know no bounds if word reached h
im from another source.

  “What is it, my dear?”

  “I’ve been to see Mary Mellor.”

  She held her breath when a startled look came into his eyes. Then his shoulders slumped and he said in a tired voice. “I should have ended the affair years ago. I didn’t intend to hurt you, Elizabeth.”

  Encouraged by his words she crossed to his side. “The reason I visited her was to confirm the suspicions I had regarding Rosabelle.”

  “Then you know.” His voice was dull.

  “I think I’ve always known.” Seating herself on the footstool she took her husband’s hand in hers. “Why did you do it, Thomas?”

  His free hand brushed against her cheek. “You wanted a child so badly, and I was convinced Angelina would die.” He gazed with sadness on her. “I didn’t want you to suffer the pain of losing your infant daughter after what you’d been through.”

  “So you found me another child.” Tears came to her eyes and spilled unheeded down her cheeks. “If Angelina had died we could have had another of our own?”

  His voice strengthened as he said simply. “I didn’t want to risk losing you to childbirth, Elizabeth. I love you too much.”

  “Oh, Thomas.” She laid her head against his knee. “All these years I’ve longed to hear you say those words. So much time has been wasted.”

  “And now it’s too late.” The Earl sighed. “First I alienated you, then I sired a son who suffered because I couldn’t acknowledge him. If Frey dies it will be my fault. Now Rosabelle’s life is to be ruined. Tell me, Elizabeth, what I must do to put things right?”

  Surprised by her husband’s defeated attitude she lifted her head. “To start with you must show some strength. James is not convinced he’s guilty. Go and talk to Frey, let him know you care. If you’re convinced of his innocence you must fight to save his life.”

  “You’d be prepared to suffer the scandal?”

  Elizabeth’s laugh had a slightly bitter ring to it. “I’ve lived with it for the past eighteen years. Frey wasn’t responsible for his parentage and must not be made to suffer because of it.”

  Rising, she shook the creases from her gown. “Mary is on her way to London. I’ve paid her handsomely for her continuing silence. As for Rosabelle, she will marry George, and will never know she’s not our child.”

  Relief in his eyes, Thomas got to his feet. “I’ll do anything you ask of me, Elizabeth.”

  “Then we’re agreed.” His unexpected declaration of love and loss of pride in her presence was somewhat uncomfortable. But while it lasted Elizabeth intended to take advantage of it. “There’s a condition I would impose upon you, Thomas.”

  His eyes darkened a little, a sure sign his pride was returning. “Name it.”

  “You’ll remember I’m your wife.” Her voice faltered a little when his mouth curved into a smile. She coloured. “You’ve not been a good husband to me in the past Thomas.”

  “It will be my pleasure to change that, my dearest Elizabeth.”

  There was such a surge of emotion in his voice that Elizabeth stared at him for a few seconds. Then he closed the space between them and took her in his arms. “Dear, God,” he whispered hungrily. “How I’ve longed for you all these years.”

  “I have a confession to make first,” she whispered. “I burnt Mary Mellor’s cottage down today. I knew I wouldn’t be able bear the sight of it standing there, reminding me.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then his eyes crinkled with amusement. Elizabeth’s heart missed a few beats as his lips tentatively touched hers, then he was kissing her with such tenderness and love she forgot all the hurt of the past. Sliding her arms around him, she pulled him close.

  Neither of them heard the door open, nor gently close again. James, who’d come to inform him of the occurrence in the village, smiled to himself as he walked away. Elizabeth had chosen her moment, and had dispatched her rival with skill. Now she was about to consolidate her own position within the household. His business with the earl was not so pressing it could not wait, and he had the feeling his father would be a changed man when next he saw him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  William was amused by the look on Rosabelle’s face when Angelina announced her plan.

  “Assist Frey to escape!” she gasped. “Lucifer”s oath! Are you insane? They’ve sent a trained soldier to guard him because the watch-house is full.”

  “He’s our brother.”

  “Frey’s a bastard,” he reminded her. “He has no claim to family name or estate, so why should we help him?”

  “Because he’s innocent of the charge against him.” Angelina sounded desperate. “I saw the highwayman’s face, Will. I swear it was not Frey.”

  Rosabelle turned to stare out of the window. “If you can identify the felon, why don’t you?”

  “It was only an impression I got, yet I know the highwayman wasn’t Frey.”

  “You expect us to risk our lives on one glimpse in the dark?” Rounding on her, Rosabelle gave a scornful laugh. “Your brain is as addled as a stale egg if you expect us to endanger ourselves over Frey Mellor.”

  “And yours is so swollen with vanity and self-importance there’s no room in it for anyone but yourself,” Angelina hissed.

  William laughed when they glared at each other. Angelina’s insult had hit its mark for Rosabelle looked as sullen as a thwarted child. Her dark eyes glowed with a barely disguised animosity.

  Angelina reminded him of a feral cat, hackles raised, eyes both wary and deadly. If she’d suddenly pounced into a spitting, scratching ball of fury, he wouldn’t have been surprised.

  He was tempted to encourage them to trade insults, but it would serve for nothing but his own amusement. Given the choice he’d have placed his money on the sharper-minded Angelina.

  Her scheme to save Frey, though foolhardy, touched him. Angelina had embraced the family with a loyalty he found hard to grasp. Someone prepared to risk life and reputation in such a futile cause had his admiration.

  The plan she’d proposed was simple. She would lure the soldier into the garden, then Rosabelle would unlock the cellar door and guide Frey to a horse he had saddled and waiting. Frey would be hidden at his stables until he could be put aboard a ship and sent to foreign parts.

  She’d under-estimated the intelligence of the soldier, and over-estimated her power to execute such a plan. Even if she managed to lure the soldier away, she’d given no thought to the danger she’d placed herself in. He simply couldn’t allow it.

  “Squabbling will serve Frey nothing,” he said. “Your plan is unworkable.” Did you really think I’d allow you to place yourself in jeopardy with a rough soldier.”

  His eyes brooded over her disappointed face. He’d already incurred a tongue-lashing from her over his treatment of Frey, so why was she appealing to him for help? He didn’t care whether Frey lived or died. He shrugged, wishing it could be otherwise. “If Frey’s not the highwayman, chances are the man will strike again and prove his innocence beyond all doubt.”

  “How clever you are, Will.” Rosabelle clapped her hands and smiled, her spate with Angelina forgotten. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she gazed his way. “I’m sure the man will show up again in time to rescue Frey. What fun it will be, like a melodrama at the playhouse. Can you imagine the despair Frey will feel when he walks to the gallows? Right at the last minute the highwayman will strike, and he’ll be saved. It will serve Frey right for thinking he was as good as us for all these years.”

  “He’d better show up long before Frey goes on his last walk,” he remarked. “The wagon will be coming to take him to London before the week’s out.”

  Rosabelle dissolved into laughter and he grinned.

  Angelina didn’t see any humour in the situation. “You disgust me,” she snapped, “Our brother is facing death and all you can do is jest. If it were your neck destined for the noose, William, it would not be funny.”

  “You’re right.” He uneasily
loosened his stock with his finger. “I daresay I should find the experience most unnerving.” He shot a glance at Rosabelle. “How about you, Rosie, do you relish the thought of dancing on air at Tyburn?”

  Her smile faded and her face paled. “I suppose we must think of some way to help Frey,” she muttered. Her face suddenly brightened. “George is taking me to the horse sales today, perhaps I can persuade him to drop the charges.”

  Angelina’s relief was evident in her voice, before reluctance seeped into it. “Nicholas Snelling has taken up residence at the inn again, and seems disinclined to leave. If I send him a letter beseeching him to withdraw his statement, he may find it in his heart to be agreeable.”

  Rosabelle send a glance of genuine sympathy her way. “The man’s persistent. Beware, he may appear a fool, but he’s capable of exacting a price in exchange. I’ve heard he intends to stay until you agree to his proposal. He’s quite besotted with you.”

  “If that’s the sacrifice I have to make for Frey’s freedom, I will.” She gave a delicate shudder. “Neither of us is in a position of making a choice, it seems.”

  That they were pawns in the game of marriage seemed to unite the two girls. William couldn’t believe his eyes when they exchanged a spontaneous hug.

  He couldn’t imagine Angelina married to the fop, and be damned if he’d let her make such a sacrifice! He scowled. Much as it went against the grain, he intended to say as much to James. He’d run Snelling through before he let him ruin Angelina, and to hell with the consequences!

  “Rosabelle?”

  They all started when Elizabeth bustled into the room.

  “You’ve kept the dressmaker waiting several minutes. Come and choose the design for your wedding gown before I run out of patience.”

  The boredom in Rosabelle’s voice was unmistakable. “You can choose it, mama. I care not what I wear.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes swept her from head to toe, her mouth curled in distaste. “As I can see. That gown is dreadfully creased, and the bodice is soiled.”