Angel Of Windword

by Maggie Dove

  Realizing that this would not be enough, Angelique rushed toward her jewelry box, wanting to see what she could pawn. But as soon as she opened the box, she gasped. Nicholas’s recent gifts to her, the priceless gems she had inherited from her mother, the beautiful aquamarine necklace and ring her father had given her for her fifteenth birthday, Tante Mattie’s peacock brooch, her grandmother’s pearls—everything, all of it—gone!

  * * * *

  “I can’t wait to show you the flower gardens. We have acres of them. Oh, and the mazes … I still get lost in them,” Anna rambled on with enthusiasm. “We’re almost there, Angelique—almost there!”

  The bumpy carriage ride and Anna’s constant chattering were beginning to grate on Angelique’s nerves. The grueling day of travel had finally taken its toll. Suffering from a dreadful headache, Angelique closed her eyes and leaned back against the leather upholstery. Her eyes remained closed as she attempted to smile politely. “That’s nice, Anna,” she managed to reply. “Windword sounds wonderful.”

  “You must compliment Mother on her hybrid tea roses. She takes great pride in them.”

  “I’ll remember to do so, chérie.”

  “Did I tell you about the rock gardens and the lily pond? It was Nicholas’s favorite place while he was growing up. He would play there for hours on end, always pretending to be a pirate or a sea captain. By the way, what happened between you and Nicholas before he left?” Anna asked suddenly. “The entire household heard both of you arguing. Then, moments later, Nicky rushed out in the foulest of moods, slamming doors and giving orders with that horrid temper of his. Tell me, are you with child?” she blurted out without an ounce of discretion, taking Angelique completely by surprise.

  Stunned, Angelique sat upright. “Anna, whatever put that idea into your head?”

  “Mother said you were bursting to announce something the night of the coronation ball. You probably argued with Nicholas before you had a chance to tell him and now you must wait until he returns before you can give us the good news. I promise to keep your secret, Angelique. You can tell me.”

  “For God’s sake—no, of course, I’m not with child!” Angelique burst out, shuddering at the thought. “Never say that again.”

  Anna’s brows drew together. “Oh Angelique, you and Nicholas will make such wonderful parents,” she prophesied with a sudden dreamy expression on her face.

  “Oui, I suppose,” Angelique muttered under her breath, turning away to look out the window. Her eyes became misty at the thought of Colin. Unfortunately, she knew well the kind of father Nicholas made. She only hoped the funds she had given Mason yesterday would help secure the child’s safety … at least for the time being. She would wire more once she received Jean-Claude and Pierre’s donation.

  “Well?” quizzed Anna, raising her eyebrows. “If you are not having Nicky’s baby … then what? What is it you wanted to tell us?”

  Realizing her sister-in-law had just presented her with the perfect explanation of the announcement she had failed to make, Angelique turned from the window. “If you must know, I did think I was with child,” she lied. “It turned out to be a silly mistake. I acted impetuously, being only a week late and all. Please be a dear and tell your parents not to mention it to me. I’m quite embarrassed.”

  Smiling, Anna reached over and took Angelique’s hands. “Just wait until Nicholas gets back from France. You’ll kiss and make up, and you’ll be carrying his baby in no time,” she said with encouragement, not realizing the pain her words were inflicting. “But you have your work cut out for you. I’ve never seen my brother so angry. What on earth did you say to get him into such a state?” Then without giving Angelique a chance to explain, she suddenly cried out, “There it is, Angelique. There’s Windword!”

  Angelique peeked her head out the window as the carriage made its way up the steep, uneven road. “All I see is forest.”

  “Over there,” Anna replied, pointing ahead. “Can’t you see the tower?”

  Suddenly the ivy-shrouded Windword Hall appeared through the multitude of trees. The stately home stood surrounded by a reeded moat, amid acres of meticulously tended lawns. Adorning the landscape were exquisite topiary gardens, evergreen sculptures, mazes, and many picturesque laborers’ cottages. To the side were stables with a wide exhibition of horse-drawn vehicles and two shiny new horseless buggies.

  As the carriage made its approach, Angelique could see Windword’s inner court with its marble statues. Astounded by Windword’s Gothic beauty, she said softly, “It’s breathtaking, Anna. It really is. I never dreamed—”

  “I’m glad you like it. The renovations are finally over. Mother took it upon herself to refurbish most of the interior. Come, I will show you around. Jonathan!” Anna called out to the uniformed chauffeur, dressed in white knickers with matching shirt and cap, who had come to greet them. “Be a dear and take our bags to our rooms. Have my parents arrived yet?”

  “No, Lady Anna. Only two carriages have arrived as of yet. This one, and the one that carried dear old Godfrey and his entourage of servants.” The chauffeur grimaced with exaggeration, drawing laughter from both of them, while letting them know his strong dislike of Godfrey. He motioned the coachman to unload the luggage from the carriage and quickly followed behind the women, carrying two suitcases.

  “And Tante Mattie? Where is she?” asked Angelique, eagerly looking around for some sign of her aunt.

  “Madame had a luncheon engagement at Shendly Manor. It seems she has become quite friendly with our neighbors, but she has been on pins and needles all day waiting for you to arrive, my lady. She should be back soon.”

  Once inside, Angelique was truly awestruck. Her ancestral home had been large and impressive, but Château Beauvisage could never compare to the grandeur of Windword Hall. Nicholas’s home was everything she had heard it would be, and more.

  After introducing Angelique to the servants, Anna was determined to give her a complete tour of the mansion. Its interior, filled with exquisite furniture and priceless paintings, consisted of two huge wings with halls which ran parallel to them, and large, comfortable rooms that opened unto each other. Tapestries covered entire walls. Chests, tables, cupboards and beds carved in Gothic and Renaissance patterns.

  Although she was tired from traveling, Angelique eagerly followed her sister-in-law from room to room and listened carefully to Anna’s breathless explanations.

  “Windword is magnificent, Anna. Indeed it is,” Angelique said, smiling as Anna took her to the east wing of the manor, and they entered Nicholas’s quarters.

  Once inside, Angelique was taken aback by the spaciousness of the suite. Confronted by the sight of Nicholas’s large four-poster bed, she thanked God for the timely embargo in France, hoping it would detain him for as long as possible. She walked past the bed, looking about the large bedroom. To her left was a sitting room; to her right, a dressing room with bathing area and one expansive closet already half-filled with Nicholas’s things.

  The familiar scent of his cologne filled her with sadness the moment she entered the closet, making her ache with the loss of the love she had once felt for him. It was almost as though he was standing right there beside her. A tear sprang from her eye and ran down her cheek. Cursing inwardly, she wiped it away and vehemently shook her head, struggling to dismiss him from her mind.

  She walked back to the bedroom, grateful that Anna had not followed her into the dressing room and witnessed her grief.

  “What do you think of it?” Anna asked. “Mother has taken special care with this room. The draperies are new, as are the rugs and most of the furniture. Nicky was never long enough at Windword to care one way or the other, always at sea, always preferring his chamber almost bare of furniture. Mother had this room freshly painted for your arrival. And since you favor the color blue, blue it is. I hope you like it.”

  “It’s lovely, chérie,” Angelique replied as she looked for another door, one that would calm her fears and
put an end to her troubled thoughts, but there was none. Unlike the London townhouse, there was no adjoining bedroom, no other bed for her. She walked toward Nicholas’s bed and wondered what their sleeping arrangements would be once he returned from France. She did not intend to share this room with him—not even for the sake of appearances! He would just have to make other arrangements.

  Exhausted, she gazed down at the cause of her dread. It did not look so ominous. In fact, it looked inviting, so soft with its down mattress and its fluffy, feathered pillows, so alluring.

  Against her will, an image of Nicholas flashed before her. Brawny, muscled and bare, ready for lovemaking. He lay on that same bed with beckoning, outstretched arms and dark blue eyes that held her captive. Her memory shot back to other times when amorous, fiery words of passion had been whispered between them in intimate darkness.

  Feeling a bit faint, she held on to one of the bedposts for support. The room was spinning and taking her with it.

  “Angelique, you look ill,” Anna fussed.

  Angelique could not answer. Succumbing to her nausea, she ran past the dressing room to the bathing area and purged her breakfast into the commode.

  Anna rushed after her and applied a damp washcloth to her forehead. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been sick, Angelique. Just yesterday on the train, you could not hold your breakfast down. Are you certain you are not with child?”

  “I’m fine, Anna,” Angelique answered weakly, pushing away the horrid thought as she gargled to rid the foul taste from her mouth. She was not concerned. Her monthly flow was only a week late. She could remember dozens of other times in the past when she had not seen her flow for weeks at a time. Moreover, the fates could not be that cruel. To be carrying Nicholas’s child would be the final blow. She quickly dismissed Anna’s concern, not wanting to even consider the terrible possibility.

  Her stomach settling somewhat, she followed Anna back to the bedroom.

  “You look pale. Lie down and rest,” Anna insisted, giving Angelique a friendly tug toward the bed. “Later, we’ll continue our tour of the estate. Finally I shall enjoy my home without the presence of Clarissa Blake.”

  “Anna,” Angelique suddenly asked, a thought provoking her. “After James’s death … about four years ago … did Clarissa go to Chauncy’s?”

  “Why, yes, she did go to live with Chauncy,” Anna replied with an angry smirk. “It was just like Clarissa, not to support my parents during their time of mourning. She was gone for months, then returned as the grief-stricken widow claiming Windword as her rightful home, insisting she could not tolerate Chauncy’s wife. We’ve suffered her ever since.”

  “How long was she gone? How many months?”

  “I don’t know … almost a year. Why do you ask?”

  I ask because I now know how Clarissa was able to hide her pregnancy and Colin’s birth!

  “Never mind, it’s not important,” Angelique said casually.

  “What is it you are not telling me?” Anna pried. “You’re hiding something.”

  “Don’t be silly—what on earth could I be hiding?”

  Anna was about to object when they heard a soft knock, and the bedroom door suddenly sprang open.

  “Chérie!” Tante Mattie threw her plump arms around Angelique, kissing both cheeks and hugging her tightly. “I’ve missed you so, ma petite! As soon as I heard of your arrival, I rushed right over. Chérie, I cannot wait to show you off to our neighbors. They are all eager to meet you, especially the young ladies. By the looks I’m receiving, I can see your husband has stolen many a heart in these parts.”

  “Now, let me have a look at you, my girl.” Tante Mattie’s mouth pursed as she studied Angelique. “A little thin and a little pale, but happy, I hope. You are happy, n’est ce pas?”

  “Oh … Tante Mattie, I’ve missed you so,” Angelique exclaimed as tears fell freely down her cheeks. “Tell me, how is everyone?” she asked anxiously. “Jean-Claude, Pierre, Justine, Emilio—how are they?”

  “Ma petite, there is so much to tell!” Tante Mattie took Angelique’s hands. “Come, let us sit down, for I’m afraid what I have to say will make you swoon.” Once they were seated, she licked her lips. “Angelique, you will not believe this … never in a million years. Your brother, Pierre, has announced the most unexpected news.”

  “What news?” Angelique prodded, motioning Anna to come and join them.

  “Oh dear, how rude of me. Please Anna, do come and sit down. I must tell you both before I burst. Our sweet, lovable Pierre has become quite enamored.”

  “Really, of whom?” Angelique raised her brow skeptically. “He has never shown serious interest in anyone.”

  “Marieanne D’Amaury.” Tante Mattie grinned happily. “It is well known that she has carried a torch for your brother for years!”

  “Tantie, this is wonderful! How is Victoria taking this?”

  “Your stepmama?” Tante Mattie rolled her eyes. “How do you think? She never expected her sons to marry and leave her. But she is of no consequence, ma petite. There is more … much more!”

  “Sons? Not Jean-Claude, too—Tantie, surely you are jesting!”

  “It is true, Angelique. Your brother Jean-Claude is to wed Marieanne’s cousin, Cecile Pesant.” Tante Mattie giggled joyously. Out of habit, she looked around to make certain she was not being heard, then whispered, taking both girls into her confidence, “Victoria is beside herself. You cannot imagine.”

  “I do hope she doesn’t spoil things for them.” Angelique frowned.

  “Au contraire! I assure you, the opposite is true. Victoria’s pride has already been bruised once or twice. The boys have stood their ground, bolstered, no doubt, by the pretty little cousins.”

  “Good!” Angelique giggled, the news of her brothers’ happiness causing her own sorrow to disappear momentarily.

  “The witch had it coming,” Anna commented with a wink. “It’s about time that woman learned how to fermez la bouche.”

  Angelique burst out laughing at Anna’s clumsy attempt at French. “Indeed! It’s about time that woman received some of her own medicine. Tantie, as usual, you have managed to lift my spirits.”

  “That is not all I bring you, ma petite. Your dear Nicholas arranged for your piano to arrive here in a few days. He knows that no other piano could mean this much to you since it once belonged to your late maman. His generosity astounds me, chérie. He truly adores you.”

  Angelique turned away, too upset to utter a word. Soon she would have to tell Tante Mattie that “dear, adoring Nicholas” cared not a whit for her, that he was only playing the role of dutiful husband. But today she would not ruin their happy reunion with the truth. “How generous of him,” she finally said, trying to hide the sarcasm that dripped from her tongue. “He astounds me, too.”

  * * * *

  “Get up, Marguerite. With a house full of servants, must you insist on kneeling and taking a duster to my books? You have this big old castle to keep you occupied—why putter around my study and meddle through my things?”

  Sitting at his desk, Lord Edmund smiled at his wife’s futile attempt to delay her exit from his study. “It won’t work, Meggie. What I will say to Angelique must be said in private. I’m not at liberty to discuss this with you at this time.”

  “Really Edmund, I don’t understand why she would want to confide in you and not in me, a female, at a time like this.”

  “A time like what, Marguerite? Anna has assured us Angelique is not with child.”

  The countess lifted her eyes and saw her daughter-in-law standing by the doorway. “Angelique!” she said suddenly, raising herself from the floor and dusting off her hands on her skirt as she came to stand beside the earl’s desk. “My husband has something to discuss with you.”

  Edmund motioned Angelique to sit down. “This is true, my dear,” he admitted, taking his wife’s hand. “Run along now, my curious Marguerite, and don’t pout.”

  Marguerite snatched
her hand from his. “You test my temper sorely. You really do, Edmund.” Stalling, she gathered a few loose-leaf papers that lay at the corner of the desk and placed them in a neat little pile in front of him. “I never pout.”

  “My darling, I’m afraid your temper is not the only thing that will remain sore if you continue to delay,” Edmund warned her, chuckling. “You know me well enough to know this is no idle threat. Now scoot!” He then proceeded to smack his wife playfully on the rump, causing her to gasp in horror at his shocking display of familiarity in front of their young daughter-in-law.

  Angelique tried to hide her amusement. She could not help but notice the proud stiffening of the countess’s back as her mother-in-law tried to muster up as much dignity as she could. Despite the disapproving look Marguerite gave her husband, Angelique could see that the countess was actually enjoying herself. Edmund’s warm brown eyes still glimmered with an essence of youthful mischief, and by the blush on Marguerite’s cheeks, Angelique perceived that his dazzling smile could still make his wife’s heart flutter.