Angel in Scarlet: A Bound and Determined Novel (14 page)

Well, that would work, too, but…“There is not time. The music is coming to an end. And the angles present something of a problem. It would not do for you to disappear, only to have me standing in your stead. I would imagine that your mother would be up here in less than five minutes. And I may be in a state of need, but I still like to think it would take more than five minutes.”

“Oh.” She considered his words, turned, and looked down over the balcony. She lifted a hand and waved. “She is looking at me.”

“I imagine she is. And I also imagine that at some point soon my absence will be noted.”

“I doubt that my mother would ever consider that she could be looking at me while I…”

“While you had an orgasm? Can you even say the word?”

“Orgasm.” She said it slowly and clearly, if rather quietly. “And climax. It is called that too, is it not?”

“Yes.”

She smiled, a cat with a faceful of cream.

Although perhaps he was the one with the faceful. He pushed to his feet, being careful to keep to the shadows as he stepped back through the music room doors. “I had best clean up and then reappear at the party. I would suggest that you stay in place until your mother gestures you down. I expect she will do so soon enough.”

“But what about…?” She gestured to his breeches.

“I will survive—or I will take it in hand as I did the other night. I can assure you that you have given me plenty of pretty pictures to relive. Should I describe what I saw? Would you like to know how you looked, how you tasted as my fingers plunged into you as—Fuck. Forget that. I do need to be going, and I see from the look in your eyes that you would like it all too much.”

“Yes. I believe that your words as much as your touch cause my body to heat. When you tell me what you want me to do, something happens to me. I want nothing more than to obey you, to please you. I don’t understand it, but I feel as if I have no control—as if I can only gain control by doing as you ask.”

And that was not helping his condition. Despite his words, he had no intention of pleasuring himself this evening. He’d spoken for himself as well when he talked of the glories of anticipation. “I will be off. Wait for your mother.” He quickly stepped farther back and strode from the music room. He would find a pitcher of cold water and probably a couple of strong whiskeys.

“But what comes next?” Her question echoed after him.

What did come next? The question had troubled her throughout the long night. Angela glanced about the breakfast room. She’d thought of little else since her encounter with Colton. How had she ever dared to do such a thing? If he had described what he wanted to do, she doubted she would have agreed. How could that have happened to her body in a place where others were watching? She knew they could see nothing, but…

Had she really done that?

Yes. And to be honest, she knew she would do it again, that she would love to do it again. In the beginning this had all been a plot, a way to draw Colton into her web, to bring him to a point where she could punish him as she saw fit, to find justice, but now…It grew harder and harder to know what she wanted. Well, she knew that she wanted him, wanted the things that he could do to her body, wanted…wanted more. She wanted more. She might still not know quite what more was, but every time he touched her she felt herself slipping further and further into his trap. His trap. How had she started as the hunter and become the prey? Although that was not fair. It didn’t seem as if he was pursuing at all; she simply came and offered herself to him.

She bent her head, staring down at the now-cold eggs on the table before her. What was she doing?

“Ah, Miss Ripon, up so early. I thought ladies lay in their beds until noon.” Lord Thorton entered the room and looked over the dishes arrayed on the sideboard.

“I have never been one for lying abed.” Particularly when she’d been up all night trying to understand what was happening. “And who could resist such a beautiful country morning. I wish I’d been out even earlier. I would have liked to ride through the mists as the sun came up. Although I am not much of a horsewoman.”

“Strange. I thought you’d started to ride in the park each morning.”

How did he know that? Not that it was a secret, but still…“Only once. Though perhaps I should ask my father to have a mare brought to Town for me if he decides we should stay in London until the Christmas season. It did feel good to be up and about so early in the day, and I do not wish to keep borrowing a ride.”

“From Lord Colton, was it not?”

She blinked. “Why, yes.”

“And how did I know that? It must have come up in conversation last night—with your mother perhaps? I know she is concerned that you not get too close to the man. And I must say that I agree. He has some unsavory habits.”

“I have never heard that. Perhaps you should tell me more.”

“I am afraid it is a subject not fit for a young lady’s ears.”

Wasn’t she tired of hearing that. Did having a penis—she said the word quite loudly in her mind—make one somehow more able to understand at an earlier age? She had always found the opposite to be true. Men acted like little boys for far more years than girls acted as if they still belonged in the nursery. “I am sure you are right.” She focused again on her cold eggs.

“And I am not sure it is good for you to have a mount in the city. I’ve never believed that women need as much air as men, and a gentle walk should supply what you need.”

Putting a bite of eggs in her mouth, she worked to chew and swallow, not even nodding in response.

Thorton continued. “I always told my dear departed wife not to leave the house if the weather was brisk.”

“I’ve often found a hearty walk on a cold day to be most invigorating.” She had to say something.

“I know that it can feel that way.” He smiled at her gently as he filled his plate and took a seat beside her. “But being too vigorous can change how the brain functions. I know that you would not want your brain to become overheated.”

“Walking on a cold day will overheat my brain?”

“I am sorry if it is too complex an idea for you to understand, but I do have it on good authority. And I know that you would wish to stay calm and ladylike. Those of the lower classes may need to partake in activities that are not suited for gentlewomen, but you are not so unlucky.”

“No, I’ve always considered myself quite fortunate.”

“Yes, I thought you would. I know that you would never want to do anything that would jeopardize your feminine capabilities.”

What was the man talking about? “No, I suppose I wouldn’t.”

He smiled at her again. “I am so glad to hear that. After speaking with your mother, I was quite sure you were suitable. I am sure that you will make a wonderful wife and mother. I am sure you are most excellent at obeying the rules of your place and station.”

He sounded like a governess she’d once had. She nodded. Well, Colton had taught her that she liked being obedient—but only some of the time, although she wasn’t quite sure that was what Thorton meant. “I do try.”

“Yes.” He reached out and patted her hand. “I am quite sure that you do. And that is all I ask, that women try to obey the rules. It is so distressing when they do not.”

There was an undercurrent here that she did not understand. She nodded again, not sure what response he wanted—or expected.

“I am sure that there would be no such problem with you. I asked your mother last night if she would approve a stroll down to the lake this afternoon, when the air has warmed. I trust an hour past luncheon would be appropriate for you.” He said it as a statement, not a question, and then spread a careful amount of butter and preserves upon his toast.

A walk? She didn’t want to go on a walk with Thorton. She wanted to find out what Colton had planned. And she certainly didn’t want more than a walk with Thorton. What was her mother thinking? Angela knew that her mother worried that she would not find a husband, but Lord Thorton? Once she might have considered him, but these recent days had definitely changed her view of the man. And he had already put one wife in the grave—and that despite her care never to risk a chill.

“Good, I will find you then.” He took another bite of toast.

“But, I—”

“I am sure you would not want to disappoint your mother or me, Miss Ripon.”

She could still refuse, but what was the harm of a walk? She would merely need to be careful not to give any indication that she was interested in anything more.

“Meet me at the folly on the west side of the lake, midafternoon,” Colton whispered as he walked past her toward the tables that had once again been spread upon the terrace.

“But…” she tried to answer, but he was already past.

“There you are, Angela,” her mother said, shooting a suspicious look at Colton’s back. “I am glad to see that you are staying away from that man. I was worried last night when you wandered off on your own but glad that you were so careful to stay in sight. A lady can never be too careful of her reputation. There are several eligible men about and more due to arrive. And I believe several of them ride spirited horses. I must admit that Lord Thorton’s gelding looks like it’s been taking laudanum.”

Why did her mother keep talking about men and their horses? Her mother didn’t even like riding, and Angela remained convinced that her mother didn’t intend a more bawdy meaning. “About that, Mother, you must know that—”

“You have no interest in Lord Thorton,” her mother spoke as if reading her mind. “I do know that he is too old for you, dear, and perhaps a little too fixed in his ways. The poor man actually tried to explain to me that I should not let you stroll about at all without a maid.”

“I am glad you understand.”

“I do, but I also know that nothing attracts a man as much as another man showing interest. Take your stroll with him this afternoon—although I am tempted to send a maid along with the two of you. Be pleasant and sweet, but keep an appropriate distance. Lord Thorton will appreciate such behavior and it will help prevent trouble in the future.”

What would Colton think of seeing her with Lord Thorton? He might not care at all; then again, he might, and if she wanted to keep Colton thinking she was not trying to entrap him, then it would be good to show interest in another man. It was all too confusing.

How was she supposed to know what to do when she wasn’t even sure how she felt? “I will do my best, Mother.” And if she kept the walk short, she should still have time to find the folly and visit with Colton.

“I am sure you will, my dear. You are always such a good daughter.”

If only her mother knew.

Colton stood in the folly, looking out over the sun-dappled water, contemplating what he had planned.

He knew it was not wise, foolish even, and yet he could not resist the promise inherent in every one of Angela’s precious smiles. He sucked in a deep breath.

He had never been a fool, and yet she made him one.

When he’d seen her leave to stroll down to the lake with Lord Thorton, he’d felt a strange desire to intercede, to cause a public scene. He didn’t want her smiling with anyone but him.

Fool.

And it was not simply the desire to get her here, to take this game one step further.

It truly was that smile, that laugh, the desire to sit by the side of the lake and fish without bait.

He forced his mind from such dangerous territory and stared at the small satchel he had brought with him, thought about what it contained. Was his angel ready?

He thought of her fantasy, of her French lieutenant, of her secret desires.

Yes—or, at least, she would be.

Angela nodded a polite farewell to Lord Thorton and headed up the steps to the house. The man was not unpleasant, except when he decided to lecture her on her duty. They’d spent half the walk talking about several mutual friends, and he had been far more amusing than she had expected. He’d actually turned the conversation to England’s foreign interests, and if his tone had been a bit simplistic, he had only once asked if she could follow and if she found the conversation too taxing.

“You should take a rest before dinner,” her mother said, stepping out from a side parlor.

Could she manage to go up to her room and then slip out? “That sounds like a most wonderful idea.”

“Should I have your maid sent up?”

“No, I’ll be fine. This dress is quite easy to loosen.” And that was true. She’d been careful to choose one that morning that she could free herself from and slip back into with minimal help. She did not know exactly how handy Colton was with laces and ties—and she expected she did not want to know any more than she already did about his past.

A brief image of him standing with the naked actress suddenly filled her mind, but she shook it away. She would not let that interfere—not now.

Her mother patted her cheek. “If you are sure. I know I always rest much better when stripped to my chemise.”

“I will be fine, Mother. You worry too much.”

“And I was glad to see that you kept a few feet between yourself and Lord Thorton.”

“Of course, Mother.” She hadn’t wanted to be any nearer to Thorton anyway. The man still gave her the most unpleasant shivers. There was something about him that wasn’t quite right, even when he was being amusing.

She hurried up the stairs and into her room. Colton had been right: The window was much too far from the ground to present any possible escape route. She peeked out the door and slipped into the corridor. Somehow she would have to make it out of the house and then back down to the lake without being seen.

Although, even if she was seen, she would only say that she’d found herself unable to rest and had decided to take advantage of the beautiful day. Surely nobody could object to that. Well, some could, but it would not be enough to cause talk.

Getting out of the house presented little problem. If one had careful ears and quiet feet, all that was necessary was to listen before making any turn. The lawns were a different issue. The wide expanse of green was easily visible from the house. Still, if she walked first through the rose garden—a more-than-appropriate occupation for a young lady—and then darted around the far side of the maze, she would be most of the way to freedom. There would still be a bit of clear grass before she could enter the trees that edged the left side of the lake, but it would be hard to tell who she was from distance. There had been several ladies dressed in gowns of a similar shade to her own.

A slow, peaceful walk through the roses, stopping several times to smell the blooms, still full and fragrant despite the cold edge to the air. A hurried scurry behind the high hedges of the maze. She breathed easy for a moment and then kept a sedate pace as she walked to the wood. Nothing was worse than looking as if one was doing something wrong.

The trees closed about her and she took another deep breath. The woods were not thick, but they should hide her well enough. Now to find the folly.

She walked deeper, letting the minutes pass, keeping the glimmering lake just in sight through the trunks.

The glow of white ahead. That must be it.

She approached it with care. It would not do to interrupt someone other than Colton.

It was a darling folly, a small Grecian temple, walled on one side but open save for a few graceful columns facing the lake. Moss had begun to cover the northern side, but it seemed more designed than uncared for, a gentle rustic touch to suit the setting. She walked to the lake side and peered in.

Colton sat there, a small satchel by his side, his legs spread and at ease. A smile of welcome slipped across his features and then was hidden—but she had not missed it. He gestured her in and waved to a spot beside him on the bench.

She walked over and sat; a cold breeze fluttered off the lake, fighting the gentle heat of the late-afternoon sun that poured between the columns. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned to him.

He stared out across the still waters of the lake, saying nothing.

She started to speak but caught herself, instead looking out across the twinkling water herself.

It was a beautiful spot, quiet and peaceful. If she had known it was here, perhaps she would have ended her walk here yesterday. Leaning back against the marble wall, she let herself relax for the first time in hours. It was not until this very second that she realized how much effort had been involved in talking to Lord Thorton and then escaping her mother. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sun upon her face.