Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson
A Guardians Angel (27 page)
“Where else? To Oslington Court.”
“But you are not welcome there.”
“Please get Delicia’s bonnet.” He reached for his coat and shrugged it on. When he realized Mrs. Graves had not moved, he added, “Mrs. Graves, Delicia’s bonnet please.”
“’Tis not right for you to take that dear child to witness what I fear is going to happen.”
He put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a bolstering smile. “Trust me, Mrs. Graves. Delicia shall see nothing untoward. I promise you that.”
The housekeeper nodded, although he could see that she was unsure if she should believe him. He hoped that by day’s end, he would not have to break that promise.
Angela stood with her hands clasped behind her back in the small parlor that opened into the garden. The duke sat in a pool of lamplight in the far corner, totally engrossed by whatever he was reading. In front of her, the duchess sat and continued to outline all the details of the wedding that Angela wanted to say she had not agreed to yet. The duchess did not give her the opportunity to speak.
Another hope dashed, for Angela had reassured herself with the thought that the duchess would not give countenance to her son marrying his ward’s companion. Instead of lambasting her son, the duchess had stated where anyone within earshot—and that would be many because she stated it quite loudly—would know that she had selected Angela to come to Oslington Court as Leonia’s companion simply for the purpose of allowing her son to do the wise thing and make her his wife to oversee his colonel’s children. A most convenient arrangement for everyone involved, save that no one thought to ask if Angela truly wished to marry him.
Angela’s second attempt to talk to Leonia had failed as miserably as her first. The young woman had locked herself in her rooms, allowing only her abigail in and out. Shelby had been as disinclined to speak to Angela as her mistress was.
“And furthermore,” the duchess went on, barely pausing to take a breath after outlining the seating arrangements in the chapel, “you must …”
The door crashed open, and storm winds sent rain scudding across the stone floor.
“Oslington, I want to speak with you now!” Justin’s words reverberated like thunder through the room. Beside him, Delicia was scanning the room, obviously searching for Esther.
The duchess came to her feet. “Lord Harrington, I have tried to be polite—”
“No, you have not,” he returned, shaking water from his hair. “You have taken advantage of every opportunity to be rude to me because you believe I caused injury to your dear, dear son.”
“Justin!” Angela gasped. “This is not the way to cure old wounds.”
The duchess bristled. “You should not react to the words of a cur, Angela. As a duchess, you must learn to ignore the words of those who should know better.”
“Is that how you have raised your son?” Justin asked with a terse chuckle. “To ignore the counsel of those who are wiser than he is so he will depend on your advice in every facet of his life?”
The duke stood. “Now see here, Harrington! That is no way to speak to my mother.”
“Then I shall speak that way to your betrothed!”
Angela tried to convince her heart to beat more slowly, but it was impossible when Justin crossed the room to her, Delicia’s hand in his. He stepped around the duchess, who tried to block his way, and paid no attention to how Her Grace tugged on the bellpull even as she shouted for Hervey.
“Will you heed the words of one who should have known better?” Justin asked as he stopped directly in front of her, so close that half a step would bring her up against him.
“I wish I could,” she whispered, “but my heart will not believe that your heart denies me a place within it.”
He ran his fingers along her cheek, then turned to the duke, who was scowling. “Oslington, if you sought to offer marriage to Angela to repay me for winning Elizabeth’s hand, you are about to ruin your life as well as hers, for you never will be able to give her what she needs.” He looked back again at Angela. “As I nearly destroyed mine by trying to give Elizabeth all I believed she needed, whether she did or not. It was impossible, because she did not want me.” He held up the hand that was not holding Delicia’s to halt the duke from speaking. “Nor did she want you, Oslington. She wanted both of us, or mayhap not even that. She wanted a great hero who would also never leave her side where he would sing courtly praises of love to her. That is neither you nor me.”
“You have been asked to leave,” the duke said. “Do so, or I shall be forced to—”
“To what? Demand satisfaction from me at grass before breakfast?” He smiled coolly. “If you do, I shall ask Angela to be my second.”
“What?” she cried. “Justin, have you lost your mind?”
“No, only my heart.” He released Delicia’s fingers and caught Angela’s arms in his. Cupping her elbows, he brought her to him. “I love you, Angela. I was a fool to try to pretend otherwise. I know I am an air-dreamer, but, Angela, will you tell Oslington that you cannot wed him because you are going to marry me?”
When she drew one arm away from him, she saw the pain burning in his eyes. She raised her hand to brush that thread of dark hair out of his eyes before stroking his rough cheek. “I am not going to marry him, Justin.”
“You are not going to—?” He cursed, then demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me instead of letting me make a complete chucklehead of myself?”
“You were giving such a fine performance, I could not bring myself to halt you … even if you had given me the chance.”
His smile returned as he enfolded her against him. Caring nothing for the others watching, he captured her lips with the fervor she had sensed in his touch. He wanted no polite buss, she discovered to her delight, but demanded she cede her heart completely to him. Eagerly she gave him the answer he yearned for, because it was the same one she had dreamed of. She gasped when he tugged her more tightly to him, and she became entangled in the enchantment of his mouth against hers.
“Now see here,” said the duke as he strode toward them. Seeing Delicia smiling beside her father, he paused. “Harrington, you have gone too far this time. You stole one woman from me. I shall not allow you to do so again.”
When Justin opened his mouth to retort, Angela put her hand on his arm. She looked at the duke. “Your Grace, whether I marry Justin or not has no bearing on whether I marry you. You do not love me, and, although I have great admiration for you taking your duty to your colonel’s children so seriously, I do not love you.”
“You don’t wish to marry me?”
His astonishment gave his face a childish dismay that brought Seth to mind. Fighting her reaction to comfort him as she did the little boy, she asked, “Do you love me, Rodney?”
“Love?” He seemed even more taken aback by her question than her refusal of his suit. “I have a great deal of admiration for you.”
Angela drew her fingers out of his. “Admiration for a well-serving servant or the
tendre
you should offer your wife?”
“You said you—”
“I said I needed time to think about your offer.” She put her other hand on his sleeve. “I am deeply honored that you would consider me for your bride, but you deserve someone who loves you, not someone who marries you simply because it is convenient or part of her duty.”
The duchess puffed up with rage, her face reddening. “I will not listen to this a minute longer.”
“Then you need not linger, Mother.” The duke put down the book he still held and faced his startled mother. “I thank you for your counsel, but you must see as well as I do that Angela—Miss Needham has no inclination to marry me.”
Before the duchess could reply, a soft voice asked from the hallway door, “May I join you?”
Angela turned. Hearing the duke’s sharp intake of breath, she understood his amazement. She stared at Leonia, astounded by her rapid transformation from a child to a lady. Her dress was the color of champagne—the perfect complement to her russet hair. When Esther rushed into the room to throw her arms around Delicia, no one looked away from the vision in the doorway.
Leonia held out her hand to her guardian with a grace that made his eyes widen. Like a man mesmerized, he reached for her slender fingers.
“Leonia?” he whispered as if he could not believe his own eyes. “I never realized … that is—”
Her laugh held a hint of coquetry, but there was no doubting the adoration in her eyes. “I know, Rodney.”
When he pressed her hand to his lips in a fervent kiss, Angela motioned to Justin, who was grinning so broadly, one would have guessed he had orchestrated this. He turned and bowed to the duchess, offering his arm.
With a sniff, the duchess pushed past him and out of the room.
Angela took Delicia by one hand and Esther by the other. Leading them out into the hall, she left the door open so there would be no suggestion of impropriety. Esther began to prattle, but Angela hushed her. Looking back, she doubted if either the duke or Leonia, who continued to smile at one another, had heard Esther. They were lost in the delight of discovering a new relationship blossoming unexpectedly from an old one—at least for the duke.
“You taught her well,” Justin said when Angela went with him into another small room across the hall. She left that door open as well, for, although she suspected there soon would be an announcement forthcoming about a real wedding at Oslington Court, there must be no whispers of indecorous behavior.
“Did I?”
“Yes, for Leonia made her entrance with the skill of a courtesan.”
“I believe that Leonia, having almost lost the one she dreamed of once this week, will be determined not to be so careless again.”
“A lesson she learned more quickly than I did.”
Paying no attention to Esther and Delicia, who were standing in front of a rain-swept window, Angela laced her fingers through Justin’s. “If you came here only to save me from the duke—”
“If you believe that, then I must show you how wrong you are.” His mouth on hers sent a song of jubilation racing through her. Raising his lips from hers, he framed her face with his broad hands. “Just as I was wrong.”
“You were wrong?”
He grimaced at her teasing tone. “I suspect you will never let me forget that I was wrong about letting you go as well as being wrong about taking Delicia to that school in Paris.”
“You are going to take her there?”
“No,
we
are going to take her there. Shall we take our honeymoon in Paris, my angel?”
“But I thought you never wanted to return to France.”
“It is time to return and put the demons of my past to rest and to find out more about that country now that it and England are no longer enemies.” His smile promised delights she could only just imagine … now. “There are so many things I wish to explore with you.”
“I—”
A screech filled the room.
Angela looked past him to see Esther and Delicia and Seth and Thomas, who clearly had entered unnoticed, trying to get a naughty Wallah down from the top of the drapes. She started to go to help, but Justin’s hand on her arm halted her.
“Thomas,” he ordered with a chuckle, “go and get that butterfly net that you took with you from Harrington Grange.” He winked at Angela as the lad raced out of the room.
“Do you think he can get the monkey down with just that net?” She smiled, sure her heart was going to burst with this joy.
He said, in the moment before he kissed her again, “The boy is skilled with it. After all, he caught you in it long enough for you to capture my heart.”
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2002 by Jo Ann Ferguson
Cover design by Neil Alexander Heacox
ISBN: 978-1-5040-0916-4
Distributed in 2015 by Open Road Distribution
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New York, NY 10014
