Angelina

by Janet Woods

  She sent her mother a sullen look. “You should have listened when I told you my maid was incompetent?”

  “I’ll talk to the girl after we’ve seen the dressmaker together,” Elizabeth said firmly. “If necessary, another maid will be hired.”

  Rosabelle was all smiles now she was to get her own way. “Let us go and chose a gown. If I’m to be sacrificed at the altar, I might as well do it in style.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully in on Rosabelle. William wondered what she was thinking. His stepmother had always seemed a remote figure to him, not a person he could confide in or relate to.

  He’d been too young to remember his own mother. The studious James had been too engrossed by his studies to be companion to him, and he’d experienced a life of loneliness until Rosabelle had arrived.

  He’d adored her right from the start and she’d loved him without reservation. He’d guarded her love possessively. Gradually, he’d undermined her feelings towards Elizabeth, paying his stepmother back for taking his father’s love from him.

  Now he saw the strength in Elizabeth and knew he’d been wrong all these years. He experienced an uncomfortable twinge of conscience for considering her an outsider. She was his father’s wife, her loyalty to the Wrey name, unquestionable.

  Moving towards the door he gazed down at her, his smile bringing a startled look to her face. There was something different about her today, he thought. Her eyes had lost their wary expression and were alive and sparkling. She looked quite beautiful.

  He stooped to kiss her gently on the cheek, grinning at her surprised expression before moving into the hall. He had to get to Rosabelle’s maid before she did, and he didn’t have much time.

  * * * *

  “I can only imagine you’ve completely lost your senses. Under no circumstances will I allow you to become the wife of Nicholas Snelling.”

  “But, James...” Angelina’s chin tilted. “If we’re to save Frey’s life -”

  “You’ll not sacrifice yourself for Frey.” James was at his wit’s end. Although he’d been primed by Will, and had prepared a perfectly rational refusal, he’d been obliged to argue the point for the last ten minutes and his temper was beginning to crack. “You were wrong to write to him, and as for him?” He scowled at her. “Snelling has demonstrated he’s a man completely without honour.”

  “Rosabelle has persuaded the Marquis to retract his statement.” Her eyes filled with tears as she pleaded, “Dearest, James, let me do this for our brother.”

  “Definitely and unequivocally no!” Her tears would not sway him this time. “You will not wed that man, and I’ll hear no more on the subject.” He stood, pointing his quill towards her as if it were a sword. “I intend to inform your mother of this rash action and you must suffer the consequences of your folly.”

  Without moving an inch she gazed at him in wounded silence. A tear glistened as it slowly rolled down her cheek. Feeling like a bully, he sighed, adding lamely. “I daresay Elizabeth will only guide and comfort you.”

  “Mama will lecture.” She moved closer to the desk. “I didn’t think you would be so intractable. I’ll have to marry someone eventually.”

  He sighed. “You once exacted a promise from me to allow you to marry only for love. I intend to honour that promise, and no stretch of the imagination will lead me to believe you love Nicholas Snelling.”

  “Perhaps I could learn to love him,” she responded artfully. “As I learned to love you, dearest James.”

  Her blatant attempt to appeal to his emotions made him smile. “Love of family is different, we’re united by blood ties.” Dropping the quill he emerged from behind the desk and took her hands. A tiny gleam of triumph surfaced in her eyes and his smile became broader. You won’t outsmart me this time, he thought, as he administered the coup-de-gras.

  “I learned to love you too, Angelina. Because I love you I cannot allow you to wed Nicholas Snelling. From now on you will make no attempt to correspond with the man, and shall accept no correspondence from him. Do you understand?”

  James had an implacable expression in his eyes. For once, Angelina found herself unable to win him round. She experienced a tiny frisson of relief for herself, and a tremendous amount of respect for James.

  Yet she was glad he’d not seen fit to extract a promise, in case circumstance forced her to break it. Keeping her face demure, she said with a lilt of laughter in her voice. “I’ll trust you to find some other way of saving the life of Frey.”

  He looked suspiciously at her. “Then we’re agreed?”

  “Only on one issue.” Gently, she kissed him. “Dearest...dearest James. Must I suffer one of mama’s discourses? It’s a lovely day and I’ve promised Celine we would walk together in the garden. She has something she wishes to confide to me, I believe.”

  James’ smile became broad. When the happiness of his beloved Celine was involved he would agree to anything. He’d hardly nodded his assent when she twirled about, her petticoats rustling about her. Her face was a portrait of seriousness. “I’ve always thought I might make a suitable godmother for somebody’s child. What do you think, James?”

  Amusement bubbled up in him. She was totally incorrigible. “I think you would probably drop the poor infant in the font,” he muttered. He chuckled when she giggled. “Be off with you, Angelina. I have work to do if Frey’s name is to be cleared.”

  When the door closed behind her he started to laugh. It was a long time before he managed to stop and return to his task of tracing the offspring of a certain black mare, which had once been owned by Rafe’s grandfather.

  The records he’d obtained from the blood-stock agent went back a long way,

  and covered many districts. It was painstaking work, with gaps where horses had been disposed of privately or had died. He’d started from the one mare, which had been bred in Ireland, and had worked his way through the names to the present day. Suddenly a name jumped out at him.

  “Godfrey Petersham,” he muttered staring into space. His heart gave a sudden, sickening lurch when he remembered where he had heard the name before. Will had bought a couple of horses privately from Petersham when he’d started his horse stud.

  * * * *

  “Angelina has a tendency to let her heart rule her head,” James stated.

  Rafe glanced at Angelina and Celine, who were seated on a rug spread on the grassy bank of the river. Their two heads were close together and they were laughing and whispering.

  Angelina had avoided his eyes when they’d first arrived, but she’d gradually responded to his teasing. As always, she looked young and refreshing to him. Her lemon-tinted gown was decorated with a scattering of embroidered daisies. Frivolous yellow ribbons secured her straw hat and streamed in the breeze. Two thin braids joined at the nape of her neck, and were threaded through with daisies. She looked utterly charming, and he could hardly tear his eyes away from her.

  He couldn’t imagine the delicious Angelina married to Nicholas. She was a girl emerging into womanhood, and responded to love like rain to the morning sun. Her beauty shimmered and sparkled, then was absorbed like happiness into the senses.

  Someone a little older would be a perfect husband for her, someone who’d guide her and care for her, bringing her intellectually and sensitively into fruition. Someone like... Bemused by direction his thoughts were taking, he shook his head. What the devil was he thinking of?

  Just then, she turned and caught his eyes. She’d been laughing at something Celine had said. The laughter died on her lips and her eyes grew wide and dark. For a second, Rafe saw the merest essence of sensuality emerge, and knew she was remembering the kiss they’d exchanged. A swift spark of desire made him suck in a breath.

  She acknowledged his regard with a faint flirt of her eyelashes. In an instance she spread her fan across her face and blushingly lowered her eyes.

  Rafe turned to encounter James’ speculative glance on him. He shrugged, knowing James had been talking,
but unable to recall a single word.

  Dryly, James repeated. “Snelling has vowed to stay here until Angelina accepts him, so I’ve delayed our departure for London. I’d prefer to have her under my close protection,”

  Rafe’s eyes narrowed and he growled a threat. “Just say the word and I’ll pay Snelling a visit on the morrow and encourage him to leave.”

  Amused by his reaction, James chuckled. “His prose grows ever more passionate, and ever more desperate. He gives the impression of a man deeply in love. Yesterday he indicated he’d die of longing if he didn’t receive an affirmative answer to his petitions.”

  “Perhaps I could hasten the process of dying with the point of my sword.” Rafe gave a wolfish grin at the thought, then a worried frown creased his brow. “Does Angelina appear susceptible to such empty flattery?”

  The correspondence no longer reached her, but James didn’t enlighten Rafe.”I cannot believe her head will be turned, but she may bow to pressure now Frey’s life is at serious risk. Will told me she approached him with a wild scheme to rescue him. Angelina believes she owes Frey her life and she’s already indicated she’d sacrifice herself to save him. That’s given Snelling a lever. Unfortunately, his mother has arrived to back up his position. She has the scent of money in her nostrils.”

  “You must forbid communication between them.” Expression thoughtful, Rafe brought James to a halt. “Constance is corrupt in many ways. She might persuade Nicholas to sign a retraction regarding Frey - for a price.”

  James’ spine stiffened. “I’m surprised you’d suggest such a dishonest option.”

  “Unbend a little, James. The retraction of George Northbridge’s statement has weakened the charge against Frey considerably. If you cannot prove his innocence by other means, you may be forced to weigh one option against the other. If Angelina considers all is lost and becomes desperate...” He gazed to where his angel sat. He couldn’t bear the thought of her in the clutches of the Snellings.

  Rafe had not intended to reveal his innermost thoughts, but he momentarily disregarded Angelina’s relationship to James and spoke from the habit of a long association. “If Angelina were to become betrothed to me the problem would no longer exist.”

  “My dear, Rafe.” James was enthused with delight. “I had no idea you were contemplating making an offer for Angelina.”

  Neither had I, Rafe reflected in surprise. His usual rationality had succumbed to impulsive action. He gave a wry grin, wondering if the bliss of James and Celine was an infectious disease.

  “It goes without saying you have my permission to pursue the matter,” James continued. “Celine would be overjoyed if such a match took place.”

  And you, my friend, have just overplayed your hand! “Am I to understand you have discussed the possibility?” Rafe grinned when James shot a sideways glance at him. “You’re not usually such a clumsy manipulator, James.”

  James didn’t display one iota of embarrassment. He laughed, saying agreeably. “I’m not usually so desperate.”

  “And you intended to push your problem on to me? That’s not like you, James.”

  “If I thought Angelina would not be a good match for you I’d not do so. She is personable, accomplished and wealthy. What’s more important, you appear to like each other. Admit it, Rafe, if you live to be ninety you’ll never find a woman more suitable.”

  Rafe’s earlier reluctance evaporated as his mind absorbed and accepted such a marriage. None of the eligible women he’d met so far could measure up to Angelina Wrey. It struck him as ironic that Angelina had proposed to him to save him from Caroline Pallister, now he’d return the favour. A grin flitted across his lips as he breathed. “Her youth and innocence scares me, can you believe that, James.”

  Two pairs of eyes glanced across at her. Skirts held at ankle length she was in the process of wading into the shallows of the river. Rafe appeared entranced by the scene, so James relaxed.

  Carefully, she launched two boats made from leaves curled around a twig, then waded after them when they went bobbing towards the mossy stone arches of the bridge.

  James sighed. “Her mother would be horrified at such unseemly behaviour,”

  Rafe’s smile was affectionately indulgent. “Her free spirit endears her to me. I’m delighted she feels she can relax at Ravenswood, especially if it’s to be her future home.”

  “You’ve decided then?”

  Rafe closed his eyes for a moment, sucking in a deep breath “I’ll catch her up and ask her now. She’ll have to come out of the water when she reaches the weir, for it gradually deepens. Without another word he strode off, his long legs covering the ground at a rapid pace.

  Crossing to Celine, James gazed down at her with a smile on his face. “Rafe’s about to propose to Angelina.”

  Celine nodded serenely. “I hope she accepts him, they’re well suited.”

  “Of course she’ll accept him.” Flopping on the grass beside her James leaned back against the trunk of the tree and gave her a complacent smile. “Anyone can see they care very deeply for each other.”

  Celine tried without success to hide a yawn. “You’re right of course, they do care for each other.” His arm came around her and she leaned her head into his shoulder. “But it’s too early to say whether that caring will turn into love. I’d hate to see Angelina hurt. She’s had enough to cope with over the past few months.”

  “You’re worrying unnecessarily.” He brushed her hair gently back from her forehead. “Your brother would care for her as if she were his own child.”

  “I know.” Turning her face up to his she kissed his cheek and said delicately, “A woman needs more than fatherly affection from her husband.”

  He smiled when her face turned a delicate shade of pink. “You underestimate the male species, my dear.”

  “So it seems,” she said. He watched her soft mouth curve into a smile.”I thought you were quiet and safe and my life with you would be quite dull.”

  “And now?”

  “You are certainly quiet and safe.” Her eyes drifted shut and she laughed. “You’ve surprised me, James. I hope we have a son who is just like you.”

  “Or a daughter as lovely as her mother.” Lovingly, he pulled her close and embraced her. Her mouth was warm and giving. Lost in the wonder of his love for her he quite forgot about Rafe and Angelina.

  * * * *

  The water flowed like glass over the weir and bubbled beneath it. Balanced on the bank, Angelina reached out a long twig and flicked at the leaf boat which was slowly revolving in an eddy. Caught by the current, it tumbled over the weir and sank below the bubbles. “Devil take you,” she murmured. “That’s my entire fleet sunk.”

  She gazed around her with interest, she’d not seen this part of Ravenswood before. Behind her was a bracken and rock-strewn slope, and she wondered what lay on the other side. Hitching her gown above her knees she started to make her way to the top, pausing now and then for breath. A short way above her she could see a flat rock, but the nearer she got to the top the steeper the slope became. She began to slide backwards, unable to get a grip with her bare feet.

  An image of the spider clambering into the pulpit at Lady Alexandra’s memorial service came into her mind. She choked back a laugh. Scrabbling a little to keep her balance she made a desperate lunge towards a handhold in the rock, then cried out in fright when someone firmly grasped her wrist.

  “Give me your other hand.”

  Rafe’s voice was firmly commanding and Angelina instantly did what he asked. For a moment she seemed to swing slowly in space then she was pulled upwards on to the flat surface of the rock.

  She blushed when a sweep of his eyes absorbed her dishevelled appearance. “I cannot believe a lady would do something so undignified as to climb a mountain in her bare feet.”

  “Neither can I,” she said candidly, gazing down at her bruised and scratched feet. “If you hadn’t been here I’d have fallen.”

  “It would
have served you right.” His green-flecked eyes probed the depths of hers. “Why on earth did you attempt such a climb?”

  “I wanted to see the view from the top.” Recovered a little, she offered him a tremulous smile. “I didn’t know you were up here.”

  “I was not up here,” he pointed out with a grin. “You were down there, where the river narrows. If you’d taken the track through the copse, you would have reached this spot with no effort. The river is deep below the weir, when it rains this stretch is particularly turbulent and dangerous.”

  They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Rafe smiled and gestured towards a stand of tall pines. “This is the spot Ravenswood was named after. Legend says the wood is inhabited by goblins and witches.”

  Her eyes grew round and wide. “And is it?”

  “Not that I can recall.” His eyes lazily roved over her, noting the soft, womanly swell of her bosom, and a tiny waist his hands could probably span. She was exquisite, something to be treasured for her beauty alone.

  His affairs had come easily, and had been discarded without regret. He had thought there was nothing of the predator in him. Now, subtle influences in his body told him he’d enjoy the process of making this girl his, body and soul.

  “Rafe, you’re not listening.” He smiled when she asked. “If the house is called Ravenswood. Where are the ravens?”

  “Watch.” Cupping his hands around his mouth he gave a great cry. A cloud of black birds rose squawking and protesting into the sky. She clapped her hands in delight when they lazily circled the trees before settling back, grumbling and chiding each other, amongst the canopy of branches.”

  “The house is well named. It’s such a wild and beautiful place. I love it here. If it were mine I’d never leave.”

  “It can be yours.” His voice was gruff as he gazed at her, like a love-struck youth. It was ironic, but his usual, urbane manner had deserted him. “If you became my wife you could share it with me.”

  Her eyes widened in astonishment, then she gave a light laugh. “You jest of course, Rafe.”