Angelina (33 page)

“And perhaps he’ll find himself in the position of having to protect one family member at the expense of another,” Rafe murmured. “Has he told you William  possessed a horse such as the highwayman rode.”

“William explained about the horse being taken from the paddock.”

“It’s not that horse I’m referring to. William bought a black stallion a few years ago, sire to Frey’s gelding. William didn’t mention he once owned a black stallion when the horse was being discussed, or indeed, may still own it. Why, do you think?”

Uneasily, Angelina shifted from one foot to the other. “Perhaps he’d forgotten. I’m aware of the animosity William bears for Frey, but I’d swear on the Bible that neither William or Frey was the person I saw.”

Rafe’s eyes sharpened. “They’re your brothers, Angelina. Perhaps your mind refuses to allow you to accept what you saw.”

“I’ve examined that theory already.” She smiled a little sadly. “Why is my mind clear on that one point, yet it refused to release what my eyes actually saw, when my father asked it of me?”

“The circumstance of your interrogation may have been a little too intimidating,” he said. “Perhaps if we talked it through now you’re relaxed...” He led her to the couch and poured her another glass of wine whilst she thought the matter over.

   She was quiet for a while, her eyes gazing into the flames. With the rain had come an early dusk and the shadows flickered and danced upon the dark timber panelling.

Feeling at one with her, Rafe took the seat next to her and contented himself with admiring her delicate profile. The tender curve of her mouth and the long sweep of lashes that guarded the ever-changing jewels of her eyes seduced his senses. He feasted on her perfection whilst he was still in a position to do so.

Presently, a servant came to light the candles and draw the curtains across the  windows. His presence drew Angelina from her pensive mood. She smiled at him. “I believe your wife has presented you with a son in my absence.”

“Yes, My Lady.” The servant gave a pleased smile at being singled out for her attention. “He’s a strong lad.”

“You must be very proud of him. What’s he called?”

“Luke, My Lady.”

“A nice name. I should like to see him before I leave. Perhaps your good wife would not mind if I called on her tomorrow?”

“She’d be right honoured, My Lady. I’ll tell her to expect you.”

“We will not need you any more tonight, Jeffrey. Go home to your wife and son before the darkness sets in. I’ll ring for a maid should we need anything.”

“Thank you, My Lady.” Giving a bow, the man left as unobtrusively as he’d arrived.

“You treat your servants well,” he murmured. “No wonder the house has a

welcoming feel.”

“Servants are human. They work hard and earn little enough for their labours. A word of appreciation will never go amiss.” 

“Sometimes you’re wise beyond your years, Angel.”

“And sometimes, I’m not.” She gave him a rueful smile.” I wish you hadn’t told me about the stallion, Rafe. Now my mind is filled with disquiet. James has indeed been placed in an unenviable position.”

“And so have you, Angelina, which is why we should talk over the incident together. It may be enough to jolt your memory.”

“I’ll do my best to remember.” She took a sip of her wine and turned her eyes up to his. The green depths were troubled, like a turbulent sea. “Where shall I begin?”

Rafe replaced the glass in her fingers with his hand, curling it around hers protectively. “Lean back against the cushions and close your eyes. Go over the episode in your mind. When you’re clear about the event, nod your head, and I’ll ask you some questions.”

At first, Angelina was self-conscious, but she allowed her mind drift back to her first journey to Wrey House. Everything had happened so quickly. She pictured the forest, dark with shifting shadows, the carriage coming to a halt. The highwayman had been terrifying, a black, silent, menacing figure.  

 “How tall was he?” Rafe asked softly when she nodded her head.

 She saw an image of the man behind her closed lids. She’d thought the man to be large, but now she remembered the way James and Rafe rode, and saw that the felon’s stirrups had been quite short in comparison. “The horse was big,” she reflected,” which made me think the man was also large. In truth, I believe he may have been quite short. He rode with his stirrups long and his knees straight. His feet were not quite level with his mount’s belly.”

“Can you remember anything about his voice?”

“It was odd, high-pitched, and muffled, as though he wished to disguise it.”  She gave a chuckle. “He sounded like my old nurse, Bessie, when she suffered quinsy. When I brought the cane down upon his horse, he cursed, and his voice went up in pitch so he sounded almost like a woman.”

“What exactly did he say, Angel?” His mouth curved in a smile as he watched her face rearrange itself into a scowl.

“Lucifer’s oath!” she hissed, throwing herself into the role with surprising enthusiasm. “Then later, when I pulled the mask from his face, he said. You’ll pay for that, little lady.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “He sounded exactly like that?”

“Exactly.” She chuckled again. “The highwayman was not very strong, though he hit mama, he barely bruised her.”

She pictured the man raising the cane above his head. His wrist had been almost has slim as her own. There had been a glint of gold. “I’ve just remembered something unusual,” she offered. “He was wearing a gold chain around his wrist.”

Then she remembered something else, something that had lain at the back of her mind and could not be recalled until now. When the man had lifted his arm above his head to strike she’d clearly seen the swell of breasts under the cloth of his coat. His countenance came into her mind, the soft youthful skin twisted into a scowl, the furious black eyes.

“Lucifer’s oath…” she whispered. Her face suddenly paled and her eyes snapped open in shock. Although she hadn’t known the voice then, she did now. And the chain worn around the wrist - twin hearts - Rosabelle wore such a bracelet, and she used the vulgar expression sometimes. The highwayman had been her sister! “Dear, God!” she moaned, her face completely draining of colour.

“What is it, Angelina?” Rafe urged. “What have you remembered?”

“Nothing.” She swiftly veiled her eyes with her lashes, but couldn’t disguise the nervous quaver in her voice. “I cannot remember anything else, Rafe. I’m tired. Would you mind if I retired?”

 Cupping her chin in his fingers Rafe turned her face round to his and said gently. “You know the identity of the highwayman, don’t you?”

   “No!” Her voice was edged with panic. “If you’re my friend, Rafe, do not ask me anything more.”

To her relief, Rafe didn’t persist with his questioning, but his steady regard of her made her feel ashamed. Twisting away from him she whispered in despair. “I don’t know what to do for the best.”

Rafe’s heart went out to her. Drawing her gently against his shoulder, he said. “I won’t press you, but if you ever need anyone to confide in I’ll always be here for you, Angel.”

She jerked away from him when the door opened and James strolled into the room.

If he observed anything amiss he didn’t comment, but Rafe casually rose from the seat beside Angelina and took up position by the fireplace.

“Celine’s asleep,” James said, his smile flickering from one to the other. “The day has been exhausting for her.” His glance settled on Rafe. “I was thinking of taking time to visit London. There’s a colleague I’d like to consult about Frey’s defence. I take it you won’t object to my company on the road when you leave for the hospital board meeting?”

 Rafe inclined his head. “You’re not taking up his case yourself, then?”

 James shrugged as he took a chair in front of the fire. “The conflict of interests wouldn’t work in Frey’s favour. The man I intend to hire for his defence is quite brilliant.”

Angelina gazed at James with anxious eyes. For a moment, it seemed to Rafe as if she were about to say something. Then she bit down hard on her lower lip and rose to her feet. “I feel quite fatigued. Is there anything you need before I retire? If not, I’ll send the maid to her bed.”

“A fresh jug of coffee will suffice.”

Her smile was distracted as she bade them goodnight. James waited until it closed behind her, then turned to him, a query in his eyes.

“Something’s playing on her mind,” Rafe said straight away. “I believe she knows who the highwayman is and I’m very much afraid that person is a member of your household.”

“Will?” Pain came into James’ eyes at the thought.

“She is adamant it was neither of your brothers.” Slumped into a chair Rafe gazed thoughtfully into the fire and related Angelina’s description of her encounter with the highwayman. “You know how well she mimics the voices of other people, he said. “I could have almost sworn it was Rosabelle speaking.”

 James looked frankly disbelieving for a few seconds, then his eyes lit up with amusement. “Rosabelle, the highwayman?  Good God, Rafe, Angelina’s either spun you a tale, or that brandy you’re drinking is more potent than it looks.” He began to shake with laughter. “I’ll wager the clever little minx has been having fun at your expense.”

After his initial discomfiture at the thought, Rafe joined in the laughter. She’d been convincing, and he willing to be convinced. By now, she’d be safely in her chamber, and probably collapsed with merriment about the clever way she’d led him into her trap.

He shook his head, bemused by his own stupidity. The whole concept of Rosabelle being a highwayman was totally preposterous.

* * * *

They returned to Wrey House later than originally planned.

No sooner had the men  returned from London when the skies opened, sending down rain in a steady torrent. Obliged to wait until the mud dried a little so the carriage wouldn’t get bogged, they were still forced to take up lodgings at an inn because the river was so swollen, one of the bridges was awash.

The nearer they got to Wrey House the more damage they saw. There had obviously been a great storm. Branches were ripped from trees and leaf debris littered the ground. In one place, an oak tree had been split asunder by lightning. Half its blackened trunk leaned drunkenly to one side, the other half stood upright. The grass around it was burned black, yet surprisingly, its leaves were still green.

“I hope Ravenswood is still in one piece,” Rafe remarked when they stopped to get a better look at the phenomenon. “The storm seems to have been severe.”

“We can make a detour if it will put your mind at rest,” James offered.”It will not take up much of our time.”

To Angelina’s surprise, the shallow-bedded stream she’d previously paddled along had become a swiftly flowing river that had risen above its banks. The bridge was awash and piled high with debris, which had been carried down with the water.

From their vantage point, the house still seemed to be intact, except for a few missing slates. The figures of the mythical gods still kept vigil at the edges of the roof.

Rafe shrugged as he wheeled his horse about. “It doesn’t appear to have suffered severe damage. If we get no more rain the water will abate. I’ll return to inspect the bridge and clear away the debris. The foundations may have been undermined.”

Angelina looked at the overcast sky and said a small, silent prayer. Rafe had suffered enough trauma of late, she reminded God, it would be unfair of him to place another burden on his shoulders.

They parted ways with Rafe at the crossroads, and continuing on, were greeted by Elizabeth who came rushing from the front door as the carriage, drew up, her face wreathed in smiles.

She looks younger, Angelina thought when Elizabeth embraced her, and happier. The reason became obvious when the earl joined her. Linking hands like two young lovers they exchanged affectionate smiles. The intimacy between them spoke of love.

   Angelina’s breath caught in her throat. Unless she could persuade Rosabelle to confess to the crime of highway robbery, she was destined to marry Nicholas Snelling, and love like this would be forever denied her. 

Though she kept a spark of hope alive in her breast, deep down, she knew Rosabelle, having already ignored the opportunity to do so, would never confess to her crime.

Angelina would never reveal what she knew to save herself from a loveless marriage. She couldn’t stand by and see either of her siblings put to death, not when she had the power to save them. But neither would Rosabelle emerge unscathed. She intended to tell her sister exactly what her foolish actions had brought about.

Rosabelle was in a temper when she went to confront her. Her maid, Ellen, was crouched in a corner, shaking with fright whilst Rosabelle shouted abuse at her. There was a welt across the maid’s arm and tears in her eyes.

Crossing to the maid, Angelina assisted her to her feet, calmly instructing her to go and compose herself. She turned to Rosabelle, who was staring at her with unbelieving eyes.

“How dare you come into my chamber and dismiss my maid,” she snarled, her face flushed from her exertions. She was unattractive in her anger, Angelina thought, gazing at her in distaste.

“What I’ve come to say to you is best kept private.” Keeping her voice a discreet murmur, she informed her without preamble. “When I was away I remembered who the highwayman was. It was you, Rosabelle.”

Rosabelle’s complexion changed from red to a chalky white. Her eyes were enormous black holes in her face, her expression terrified. Angelina felt no pity for her when she began to tremble.

“Please do not tell anyone,” she begged. “They’ll hang me.”

Taking up position in front of her, Angelina stared at her with merciless eyes.  “What about Frey? He doesn’t deserve to die for crimes he didn’t commit. How can you let such a thing happen? Have you no sense of decency, no conscience?”

Rosabelle’s tongue flicked over her lips and a sly expression appeared in her eyes. “You couldn’t prove it, you know. They’d say you made it up, that you were jealous of me, and accused me unjustly.”

Angelina smiled at that. “I have no reason to be jealous of you, Rosabelle. There’s nothing about you I admire, nothing you have that I want.”