Authors: Maya Rodale

The Rogue and the Rival (37 page)

BOOK: The Rogue and the Rival

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“Two men brawling over you. How utterly romantic,” Lady Palmerston mused.

“Indeed. So incredibly romantic I fear I might faint,” Angela replied, forcing her voice to remain light.

Intrigued by the unmistakable sound of a brawl, guests started abandoning the ballroom and terrace in favor of watching the fight. Fortunately, very few people seemed to notice them walking briskly in the opposite direction.

Phillip found them a few minutes later as they were waiting for the carriage to be brought around.

“I’ll escort you both home,” Phillip said, grimacing and shaking out his hand. Angela felt the stirrings of pity. He had hurt himself, defending her. She wanted to take his hand in hers and, well, make sure it was well and truly broken, actually.

He was with another woman, when this very afternoon he had been with her. That doxy had left a smear of red lip paint on his cravat. That stain glared at her, taunted her.

Afraid that she might actually break his hand or strangle him with that stained cravat, Angela turned away. A footman opened the door to their recently arrived carriage. Angela entered, as did her aunt. Phillip climbed into the carriage after them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Angela demanded.

“Really, Phillip, you could just call tomorrow like a proper contrite and civilized gentleman,” Lady Palmerston added.

“And give you a chance to run away from me again?” Phillip answered, looking at Angela. “I think not. No, Angela, you will hear me out.”

She wanted to put her hands over her ears and repeat some nonsense word over and over so that she couldn’t hear a word he said. But she would not act like a child because of him. Instead she clasped her hands in her lap and gave him her haughtiest look.

“Very well. Let us hear your excuse.”

Phillip explained about receiving the note, simply signed “A,” and assuming that it was from her.

“How could you think I would suggest something like that?”

“Attribute it to wishful thinking. It was an entirely different kind of trap that I expected to walk into.”

“Interesting,” Lady Palmerston murmured.

“And you,” Phillip said, turning to glare at Lady Palmerston. “How could you let her wander alone in the gardens with someone like Frost? You are supposed to be her chaperone, which means you are supposed to stay with her and keep her away from the likes of—”

“From the likes of you,” Lady Palmerston supplied readily. “And I was there the entire time. You were just too distracted to notice.”

“Yes, I was too distracted by giving that bloody bastard the beating he deserves for hurting you, Angela.”

“Angela, I do think Phillip cares for you,” Lady Palmerston stated.

“He has an interesting manner of showing it,” Angela retorted. “And the rest of your story, Phillip?”

“I was looking for you,” Phillip continued. “But then Christine—”

“You know her,” Angela gasped, losing the hope that it had all been a misunderstanding with a stranger. “How do you know her? Were you lying to me when you told me today that I was the only one?”

Her aunt groaned slightly beside her. Angela eyed Phillip through narrowed, suspicious eyes.

“I
knew
her,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “But I haven’t had the slightest contact with her in years.”

“How do you know her, Phillip?” Angela asked, though she feared she already knew the answer. He had ruined this Christine woman once. She was one of his many scorned and abandoned women.

“Go on, Lady Palmerston,” Phillip said wearily, “I should hate to deprive you the pleasure of telling her yourself.”

“How considerate of you, Huntley,” Lady Palmerston said. “Christine Grey is the daughter of the former ambassador to Italy. Phillip met her there, after fleeing the consequences of another indiscretion here. He had been caught in the gardens with Miss Lila Althorp within the first hour of her debut ball. Anyway, Phillip was caught attempting to elope with Christine. Never finished that business, did you? And now she is one of London’s most popular courtesans.”

“The story seems to have lost some accuracy in its translation and in the six years it’s been since it happened.”

“Don’t even dare to tell me you were misunderstood again,” Angela snapped.

“I’ll tell you the truth, even though it’s probably worse. She offered what I wanted. I got a taste. But I didn’t fully compromise her, because her father, his friends, and what seemed to be the entire household staff just happened to catch us first. The lot of them also just happened to have marriage documents drawn up. And Christine just happened to have all of her things packed.”

“So you were set up. Just like you were tonight.” She didn’t need to say how bloody convenient that excuse was, not once but twice. Too convenient.

“I was young, rich, due to inherit a dukedom, and drunk more often than not. I was the perfect target for what she had in mind. And I don’t know what her motives were tonight, but—”

“And now she’s a prostitute all because of what you did to her.” That could have so easily been her, had she not gone to the abbey instead. It was scary and heartbreaking to think of it.

“And richer than all of us combined, and more powerful than she would have been if she had been a duchess. She is still as devious as ever, too. Apparently, that Frost bastard is her accomplice.”

“Why do you keep saying that? You don’t have any proof that he arranged all of this. I think you might just be jealous of him,” she challenged him.

“Well, was there another reason you were in the gardens with him?” Phillip asked. “Because, if so, then you have no right to be angry with me.”

“Don’t accuse me of that. He followed me, if you must know,” she answered. And then she bit her tongue, because she wanted to add that she was innocent. But she wasn’t. It occurred to her that Phillip did have some right to suspect something compromising between her and Lucas this evening. He had been courting her openly, after all. And Phillip knew about her past, more than anyone else.

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Angela. I don’t believe that for a second,” he said softly, and it broke her heart that he could believe her innocent when she couldn’t return the sentiment. “But how did you know to find me there? And why was he with you?”

“I saw you run into the gardens.”

“Yes, I was in a rush to ensure that you weren’t waiting too long, alone in the dark and secluded garden, just begging for trouble.”

“Well, you caught Lucas’s attention. He merely pointed out what a hurry you were in.”

“He just happened to notice, did he? Just as he just happened to have a handkerchief ready to press into your hands. You didn’t shed a tear, though, did you? Because you saw what you expected.”

Angela did not respond. Instead, she turned and looked out the window of the carriage, not that she could see much in the dark. Could Lucas really have set that up?

He did just happen to notice Phillip going into the gardens. He did have that handkerchief ready. And Lord knew she certainly hadn’t sent that note.

But why on earth would Lucas do such a thing? If Lucas wanted her for himself, then he could have just
asked
. She would have said no, of course. But Lucas didn’t know that . . . unless he did, and he had also arranged for some busybody to find them in a compromising position. No wonder he held her so firmly as she struggled to break free.

Angela sighed, because the evidence against Frost was damning. And because, once again, she had placed her trust in the wrong hands.

“You don’t trust me,” Phillip said, as if reading her thoughts. It was not a question. It was a statement of truth, and from the tone of his voice, it was a truth that just dawned on him. “That’s what has been holding you back.”

“You must admit, Huntley, your past hardly gives a girl reason to,” Lady Palmerston added to the conversation, reminding them both of her presence.

“It’s true,” Angela said with a little shrug. She turned away, but not before witnessing the wounded expression on his face. But couldn’t he understand that she was just trying not to get hurt once more? Wasn’t twice enough? And couldn’t he see that she
wanted
to trust him and give herself to him completely, without fear?

“Well, what the bloody hell do I have to do to prove to you that I want you, and you alone? That I will be faithful to you? And that I won’t leave you? Because if there is nothing I can do, then tell me now.” From his voice, his eyes, everything, she knew it was a plea. For better or for worse, she wanted to answer.

“Let me think,” she muttered. To the sound of the carriage wheels clattering on cobblestones, she thought about how they might both put their pasts behind them. Because she did want to trust Phillip. She wanted to soothe her own fears, but she hadn’t been able to do it alone after years of trying. If he did love her, he would help her.

And Angela thought of Lucas, yet again undermining her trust with his schemes. For tonight was not the first time he had concocted some plan to win her, with disastrous results.

Lucas was also trying to unite their future while denying their past. He couldn’t even bring himself to acknowledge what had happened with them, let alone apologize . . . And then an idea occurred to her.

“You could apologize to the women you ruined,” Angela said. “All of them.”

“Could you explain what that has to do with us, or indeed anything?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do, and you should have done it years ago. Because if you don’t regret what you did, then there is nothing to stop you from doing it again. And because I can’t have any more of your angry, scorned women making trouble for us.”

Phillip didn’t groan or even protest. He merely grinned.

“You
are
in love with me,” he said, as if he had doubted it. The fool.

“Of course I am, you blockhead!” Angela burst out. “In spite of reason and better judgment, God help me, I am. But I don’t trust you not to hurt me. Again. I have been too careless with my heart in the past, and I shan’t be so again.”

“If it means that much to you, I can write them all letters detailing my sincere, heartfelt apologies.”

“And what shall you say? ‘Dear so-and-so, my apologies for ruining your life. Best, Phillip.’ ”

“Something to that effect,” he answered evasively.

“No, you must go and apologize in person.”

“I doubt I’ll be welcome,” he said, now visibly uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and looked longingly out of the carriage window.

“Well you can at least
try
, can’t you?” she asked. And then he looked into her eyes and was silent for a moment before he answered.

“I can try, for you, Angela. But I’d like you to come with me. Please.”

“Fine,” Angela agreed. This way she could make sure he actually kept his word. And, now that she thought about it, she was curious about all these other women. They had much in common, and yet were strangers to each other.

“I shall be happy to join you both,” Lady Palmerston volunteered, “since, Phillip, you so passionately defended the need for dear Angela to have a chaperone.”

Angela bit back a laugh at Phillip’s expression. He seemed like a little boy being given a present, only to have it taken away again. He recovered, though, and scowled, obviously because he could tell it would be futile to persuade Lady Palmerston to allow them to go alone.

“Now there is only one
slight
problem,” Phillip said, obviously ill at ease. “I haven’t exactly kept in touch with them, and it’s been quite a while . . .”

“You don’t even remember them!”

“I do, I just don’t know—”

“Never fear, I know all their names, and shall have no trouble discerning their whereabouts,” Lady Palmerston chimed in.

“Of course,” both of them muttered simultaneously, as the carriage came to a stop. Phillip escorted them both inside. He kissed Angela on the cheek, bade her good night, and promised to call the next day.

And she dared to believe that he would keep his word about that.

“He does have a point,” she remarked to her aunt as they ascended the stairs to retire for the evening.

“About what, dear?”

“You weren’t there,” Angela confessed, feeling wretched to confront her aunt. But she had promised not to leave her alone with any gentleman, and she had not kept her word, to nearly disastrous consequences.

“But I was, Angela,” her aunt said softly. “I have no intention of allowing you to get hurt or suffer. However, you do need to learn to trust your own head and heart, and you’ll never be able to do that if you always rely on someone else to do it for you.”

“There could be a scandal in the morning.”

“And there will be another scandal in the afternoon,” her aunt answered dismissively.

“I could have been ruined again.”

BOOK: The Rogue and the Rival

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