Angel in Scarlet: A Bound and Determined Novel (4 page)

His already half-swollen cock grew fully erect.

If he actually thought he’d get to enjoy that sight without interruption, he’d probably have stayed.

Which was exactly why he needed to flee, why he had fled.

The Angela who had confronted him tonight was not the girl he had dismissed from his affections. No, the woman tonight had been the angel he had dreamed of, had been the woman he’d come to know, not the little lamb who had suddenly replaced her those last weeks. So which was the real woman?

Plenty of women acted differently after they thought they had a man caught by their lure, but in his experience that usually meant moving from sweet to temper, not getting sweeter and sweeter until a man’s teeth began to ache.

If Angela had always demonstrated the fire she had tonight, his decisions might have been very different. But she had not. No. The woman he’d come to know had lacked even the slightest spark. He must remember that.

He had kissed a woman full of fire, and two days later there was not a spark to be found. The kiss that had left him a burning inferno had evidently submerged any glow she might have had.

The Angela of tonight might represent a temptation almost impossible to resist, but if he wasn’t careful, he’d be visiting the parson with a woman he knew had come to bore and irritate him, a woman who repulsed his every attempt for further kisses, who had made it clear she found him as desirable as a pile of dirty rags.

And pledging his life to that woman was one thing that was definitely not in the cards.

Although hadn’t that been his original plan, to find a wife among the flock of lambs? And Angela certainly had not been a lamb tonight.

The more he considered, the more his thoughts moved in circles, his head near spinning.

Who was Angela really? Tonight her eyes had been filled with a gleam of passion and interest that he’d rarely seen before, and certainly not in one so young. Wasn’t that why he’d played with courting her in the past, the thought that there was something more in her than met the eye? And then one day, as soon as he’d kissed her, she’d suddenly begun to bleat just like every other sheep in the herd.
Do you like my gown? Wasn’t that music divine? Which functions are you planning to attend this season? I do hope the weather is fine. I’ve heard such wonderful things about your estates. Wouldn’t you like to visit my parents in the country? They are having a house party in a couple of weeks.

Now, that was enough to make a man, any man, no matter how brave, run in fear.

Only she hadn’t sounded like that tonight.

I will do anything, anything that you want.

He hadn’t believed it. Hadn’t even been sure he believed she’d talked to Madame Rouge. Despite the look in her eyes, he’d been certain she was talking about something much simpler, about wearing a gown in a color he liked or letting him talk about horses for hours.

But she had meant it. The intensity of her face, as she’d pushed down her gown and exposed herself to him and to the dark, was unmistakable. She’d done it for him at first, because it had been his desire, but then because it had been her own. He’d seen the shift in her eyes, in the flush on her face.

She had enjoyed it, enjoyed doing it because it was what he wanted, enjoyed the risk, the thrill—the pain. He’d seen her bite hard on her lip, but he’d also seen the pulse beating in her neck, seen the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. That had not been simply fear and excitement. That had been genuine desire.

And if there was one thing that Colton knew, it was how to judge a woman’s genuine desire.

Was it possible he’d been mistaken about her being just a lamb, possible that he had been right in the beginning about the spark within her?

Or was it all a trick? A way to win back what she had lost when he told her she had mistaken his interest?

Women could be masters of trickery.

But then his mind filled with the image of darkening pupils, of eyes wide with desire, of pale fingers pinching red nipples surrounded by milk-white flesh. His mouth grew dry. He shifted his weight, wishing his pants were looser. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be fleeing for a far different reason than a desire to escape Angela’s clutches. He might resist most social conventions, but there were some things, some stains, that could not be explained in polite company. It was a pity the full coats of the last century were not still in fashion.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, Angela.”

Angela turned as she entered the ballroom and smiled at her mother, hoping that she didn’t look as disorderly as her mind felt. “Yes, Mother. I was getting some air.”

“Well, it has put a lovely flush in your cheeks. I haven’t seen you look in such spirit since long before…Oh, but let’s not talk about that. Tonight is for dancing and fun—and I am sure that there must be several young men here you have not danced with. Perhaps one of them will catch your fancy. I’ve been worried that you’ve been locked in the doldrums for months. Tonight you look yourself.”

Well, she wasn’t sure that was true. She certainly didn’t feel quite like herself. Her whole body felt unsettled. No, not at all herself. “I was thinking I might see if you were ready to leave. I find myself quite exhausted, despite my appearance.”

“Your appearance. I was going to say something about that dress earlier, but you already looked nervous—although I am not sure why. It’s not as if this were your first ball.”

No, just her first ball at which she tried to seduce a man.
“It has been a strange night. Should we head home?”

Her mother settled her hips squarely. “No. First you must dance another dance. Why don’t you see if Lord Penster will ask you? He always did sit a spirited horse.”

It would be useless to argue with her mother. And equally useless to try to persuade her that it was not up to the lady to decide with whom she danced. The gentleman had to ask. Although she did admit that her mother had a knack of choosing gentlemen who seemed all too eager for a partner. And why did she keep mentioning the type of horse a man preferred? If she didn’t know her mother so well, she might think that she was implying something crude about
riding
. Knowing her mother, however, that seemed impossible.

Now, if only she could convince herself that she did want to dance, that she was not all a-jitter and far too busy thinking about what had happened in the garden to even consider attracting another man—even just for a dance.

Still, what must be done must be done.

“And then he simply disappeared. I did everything you said—and more. I was sure it was working. I could feel that he wanted me, just as you said I’d be able to, and then when I glanced away for a second he was gone.” Angela let out a long sigh and gazed across the laden tea tray at Ruby. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Ruby leaned forward and poured more tea into thin china cups.

Angela’s eyes dropped to Ruby’s full bosom. The madame was not even trying to draw attention to it, and her gown was not particularly low cut, but her every movement drew one’s glance. How did she do that? It was exactly what Angela needed to know how to do. She was sure that if she ever tried to bend over a table to flaunt her bosom, she’d either fall out of her bodice, exposing everything, or…

After last night, though, perhaps that wasn’t as frightening a thought as it had been. Despite the fact he had disappeared, there had been no mistaking Colton’s appreciation of her breasts. Maybe if she had let him see them a little sooner…

But, then again, he had disappeared. He might have been interested but not interested enough to…It had not always been that way. She used to be so sure of him, sure that he wanted her, sure of her own attraction, sure that he liked her, that he actually liked her—that he might even love her. And it was more than her body that he had liked. She tried to shake the memory of sitting in the parlor, laughing over some overly passionate love sonnet, or of the time she’d dared to read him a passage from her Minerva Press novel. He’d looked at her with his eyes full of laughter, but more than that, full of…

No. No. No.

That had been months ago.

Before he’d torn her affections to shreds.

And she must not let herself care now—at least not beyond the game. She only wanted to attract him so that she could trap him, make him want things he could not have. Once she had justice, then she would be happy. She must remember that. This was about justice, not desire.

Ruby leaned back, picked up her own cup of tea, and took a sip. “Are you ever going to finish one of those thoughts? Your expression is changing by the instant, and I can see your distraction. It is quite fascinating to watch, but you should probably stick to one train of thought if you want to plan what to do next. And besides, men are simple creatures and we do confuse them when we think about several things at once. They never seem able to follow how a new pair of shoes is related to a friend’s recent engagement and how peace with the French is connected to when dinner will be served. It is much easier to stick to one straight path when dealing with men.”

Angela picked up her own tea and gazed with some relish at the tray of fabulous pastries. Her mother believed in a sensible tea of hearty sandwiches and sliced bread with butter. It was a rare day that Angela was presented with anything as delectable as the tray before her.

“Please help yourself,” Ruby said, choosing a cream-topped pastry of her own. “I have never believed in depriving oneself of what one truly wants.”

Angela chose a small cake covered in strawberries and bit into it. Lemon. Tart, tangy lemon. And the sweet of the strawberries. And something else, something…Brandy—was there brandy in the cake? She took another bite.

Ruby smiled. “That cake has you thinking of only one thing. I daresay there are many activities that will keep your mind focused.”

Licking her lips, Angela answered, “It is true that when I am truly focused, I am rarely distracted, but the rest of the time…” For some reason she thought of Colton and how he had watched her last night. Now, that had been focus.

“And I’ve lost you again,” Ruby said, a humorous note in her voice, “although this time I reckon that your thoughts are more along the lines of our discussion.”

“How did you know?”

“You get a certain look when you think of Lord Colton. It is part of why I agreed to help you.”

“You mean I look like I want vengeance?”

“It is far more complicated than revenge, and I believe that you know that.”

“I want vengeance, not revenge. Revenge is about passion. Vengeance is about justice. I read that recently and it summed up my feelings. But you are right. It is complicated, even if I don’t wish it to be.” She dropped her head and took another nibble of pastry.

Ruby put her cup down. “That is very well said, and I believe I understand what you mean. But should we go back to the beginning, to Colton’s leaving last night? Could there have been a reason he disappeared? Did he hear something? You mentioned that you turned away; why?”

Angela considered carefully. “I don’t know. I probably did hear something, but nobody was there. Surely he would have seen that? He was looking toward the party. I had my back to it.”

“Perhaps he was a little distracted by what you were showing him—and was then startled by the sound. Men do fear being forced into marriage.”

“It is possible—he certainly made sure to keep his distance from me—but it felt like more than that. If he was simply afraid of being seen, he only had to step into the shadows long enough to be sure he was not seen. He didn’t need to actually leave.”

“That is true. And perhaps he only meant to step back. Men are simple creatures, but that does not make them easy to understand at all times.”

“I am not sure I understand them any of the time.” And wasn’t that the problem? “At least, I don’t understand him. Every time I think I understand what Colton feels, he acts in a completely different way—just when I begin to trust him, he betrays me.”

“Well, let us examine what you do understand. My guess is that when you are sure of what he is feeling, you are not wrong.”

“But…” She had clearly been wrong about what he was feeling in the past.

“No, hear me out. You do not seem to be a careless woman or less than astute. I believe that most of us know what another feels, but we let our own desires overrule that instinct. If you believe that Colton felt desire, then he did. And from what you have said, there was some physical evidence to support your beliefs.”

The heat rose up Angela’s cheeks. “I think so. It was dark and hard to be sure, but…”

“I am sure you saw precisely what you think you did. It is rather hard to mistake—and I do not mean the pun. I know of very few men who would not have responded in such a fashion to seeing your bare breasts. And I am sure that Colton is not one of them. Plus I think the situation would have appealed to him greatly. He has always enjoyed risk, and to have you put aside your own fears to please him…Yes, the man would have responded just as you believe he did. I have no question that he was quite overcome by desire.”

“Then why…?”

Ruby reclined on her chaise. “I could give you a dozen answers.
He didn’t want things to progress any further. He was unsure of his own feelings. He was unsure of you. He likes being mysterious. He was afraid to embarrass himself. He didn’t know what to say next. He suddenly remembered he had to be somewhere.
But none of it matters. I don’t know and neither do you. The one thing I am sure of is that it was not a lack of desire. If Colton had felt a lack of desire, he would simply have stood there looking bored and perhaps made some sneering comment. I take it he did neither?”

“No.” And he absolutely had not looked bored. “It still makes no sense to me.”

“Hell, it may not even make sense to him. Have you never done something in a moment and not been sure later why you reacted as you did? Never wished you had acted differently?”

“I must admit that I used to act rashly with some frequency. I worked hard on changing that, but I have a hard time imagining Colton being so indecisive.” Angela played with a few remaining crumbs of sugar on her plate.

“It is the opposite of being indecisive. If he was indecisive, he would have dithered before acting. From what you say he certainly did not dither.”

“No, he did not.” That still didn’t mean that she understood any of this.

“I can tell you are not convinced.” Ruby pushed the tray of pastries closer. “Have another and we will discuss the next important thing.”

“Which is?”

“What you want. What you imagine happening. You bared your breasts in a place where you could have been caught, and from the flush in your cheeks I believe you enjoyed it. What do you want next?”

“I’ve told you: I want to have Colton ask me to marry him.”

“That is not next; that is several steps, if not miles, down the road. How far are you willing to go on your next encounter? You have told him you will do whatever he wants. Do you mean that?”

“I think so?”

“Do you hear the question in your voice? If you are going to do this, you must be sure. And you must know your own limits. Are you proposing to lose your virginity to Colton?”

She could only stare at Ruby.

Ruby took another sip of tea. “And don’t tell me that you don’t know. You must make that decision. I cannot believe you have not considered it. If you do not wish to take such a drastic step, there is still plenty that can be done, but you must know. And if you do decide to take that step, you must also decide what you want afterward. Do you plan to actually marry Colton—and if not, do you plan to marry another man, and do you plan to lie to your new husband about it? You do not need to tell me the answer, or at least not yet. If you do decide to travel that path, there are practical matters we should discuss. I will not judge you, not that I have any right to judge. I have always thought our world’s beliefs about virginal brides are hypocritical and rather pointless. I’ve wondered if I should write an essay on the subject—not that I think I could find a publisher. Perhaps when I retire I shall write a memoir. But I stray from my subject. You must decide what you want and then you must let Colton know.”

Angela swallowed and then took a large gulp of her own tea, almost choking. “I will do that,” she said when she could speak freely again.

“Good. Then let us move on to less practical but still extremely important matters.”

That sounded good. “Such as?”

“How to make you believe in yourself. How to make you understand your own attraction, because that is the key to all.”

“I am not sure…”

Ruby stood. “I am a woman of only moderate attraction. Oh, I know how to package it well.” She ran a hand over her lush hips. “But I believe that I am a creature of great allure, and so men find me so.”

Angela examined Ruby, trying to see what she was talking about.

“It is all a matter of presentation. In any ballroom you would find at least a half dozen women more beautiful than I, but men will not see that. They will see the way I stand. They will see the way I move, and they will believe. I will make them want me simply because I believe that they should.”

“Surely it cannot be that easy.”

“Believing in yourself is never easy.”

Well, that was certainly true. “I still…”

“Now, stand up and try. Imagine that Colton is across the room. Walk to him, let him stare at you—and all the time know that you are captivating.”

“I don’t think—”

“Don’t think; just do it.”

Angela stood and tried—she tried hard. But every time she began to walk, she simply felt silly. She was no seductress. “It all feels like a huge game of pretend.”

Ruby chuckled low in her throat. “That is exactly what it is. Give in to it. Next time you are with Colton, forget the situation and imagine that it is your deepest fantasy, imagine that everything is exactly as you want it to be—and then just play and have fun. The more you want, the more he will want. Now, walk again.”

Deepest fantasy. Angela remembered the look in Colton’s eyes the night before.
That
was fantasy. She pulled in a breath, feeling her breasts press against her demure day gown. She took a step, and then another, imagining that dark glow of desire, imagining his lips drawing tight and then parting, imagining the feel of his breath against her skin. She stumbled slightly.

Confusion filled her. She wanted him to feel desire, not to feel it herself. She was trying to free herself from the cage of her memories, not to build more.

But perhaps Ruby was right: The only way to make Colton feel desire was to demonstrate her own. She walked forward, giving in to her body’s response to her thoughts. Slow. Liquid. Filled with want.

“Yes, I think you’re learning!” Ruby exclaimed, nodding her to a chair. “Now we must discuss what you are going to do next and how you will do it while letting Colton believe that he is the hunter. Men do much prefer to chase than to be chased.”

It was impossible to keep up with how quickly Ruby’s mind moved. “I don’t know. I am not even sure when I’ll see him again.”

“We can figure that out—and then I will give you a few more ideas about just what Colton may like, and tonight you can work on building fantasies about them as you fall asleep. Listen carefully.”

Angela spread her skirts about her and stared at the water of the Serpentine. The skirts were thick and heavy, which was lucky considering how much dew clung to the grass this early in the morning. She was not at all sure that Ruby was right about this being the logical next step. Surely Colton would realize she had come here to meet him—as they had met so often in the past when he was courting her. It wasn’t as if she were in the habit of sitting in the park before the sun was fully up in the sky.

She glanced back at her maid, who sat on a bench a good two hundred feet away. Maggie had not been at all pleased that they were heading out so early. If Angela listened carefully, she’d probably be able to hear the girl still grumbling that she’d thought they were done with this foolishness months ago.

If possible she would have come alone, but Ruby had made it clear that propriety must be observed on the surface. Ruining herself would not accomplish anything, and it was most doubtful that Colton would come to her rescue if anything did go wrong.

How could he be so different than she had once believed?

She turned her head back to the water, staring out over the light mist that clung just above the shimmering waves, fighting the memories of other mornings that she’d waited for him. Still, even if Colton didn’t appear, it was not bad to have the quiet and the peace. Perhaps she should make an early-morning walk a habit. She’d never been one to sleep in, but she’d always been much more likely to curl in bed with a book than to brave a cool morning without a reason. Perhaps she had been foolish.