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Authors: Maya Rodale

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BOOK: The Rogue and the Rival
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For six of those years he endured a marriage he could not bear. Every time he had looked at his wife, he wished she were someone else. Beatrice knew he loved another. But she never once complained or made the slightest effort to gain his affection. She carried on a long affair with another. He was unwanted, always taking second place. To see Angela with Huntley made him feel like more of a cuckold than Beatrice’s actual infidelities.
He did not mourn Beatrice. He saw that his marriage was yet another mistake he had made, all because of his idiotic plan to gain the money he needed and the woman he wanted. He should have been less of a coward, he thought now, and lived in poverty with Angela. At least they would have been together.
Lucas felt dizzy, so he tightened his grasp on the reins. His head hurt horribly now, and the relentless drumming of his horses’ hooves on the dusty road was exacerbating the pain.
But the physical pain was nothing compared to the torturous regret he had lived with every day for seven years. It was more than a mortal man could endure. Lucas wanted to either fix what had gone so horribly wrong or die.
Angela was his last hope, his only hope. He would do anything to secure her and her forgiveness. And if he couldn’t have that, then he simply did not want to live any longer.
When their carriage turned onto the drive up to her family’s home, he paused. For a moment, he allowed himself to remember that lovely and pure anticipation he had felt every time he had ridden to her home. To her. For a moment, he felt as if he were a young man, in love and loved, and that he had his whole life ahead of him, full of hope and happiness.
He would do anything to feel that way again.

 

Chapter 24
As
their carriage turned into the long drive that led to the house, Angela was struck by a surge of homesickness. Seven years’ worth, all at once. Returning now, she saw not the site of her fall but all the happy memories of the seventeen years she had lived before everything changed.
Home.
Why had she waited so long to return?
Her sisters, Samantha and Claire, burst out of the front door with nearly deafening shrieks of unmistakable joy. Angela was nearly knocked to the ground by the exuberance of their embrace. She hugged them both back fiercely, feeling like such a fool for not coming home sooner. But she had finally come to her senses.
“Look at you both! You’re all grown up now.”
“Never mind us. Who is that?” Samantha demanded. She was just as blunt as she ever was.
“Oh, it’s the evil Lord Hartshorne!” Claire gasped, recognizing Phillip from the drawings in the paper. Her eyes were wide with excitement or horror; it was hard to tell. Claire was always quieter and more reserved than her sisters.
“His name is Phillip Kensington, and he is my fiancé.”
“
The
Phillip Kensington?” Claire asked suspiciously, unsure of how to accept him.
“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Phillip said, smiling almost shyly at them. Angela realized that he was nervous, of all things.
“And this is our aunt, Lady Palmerston. She’s been my chaperone in London.”
“Since you’re getting married now, does that mean we can have seasons, too?” Samantha asked, and it broke Angela’s heart that their lives had been so affected by what she had done.
“I don’t see why not. Is Mother home?”
“Yes. And Damien, too! He only returned from his grand tour last week,” Samantha said. They all entered the house, and Claire showed Phillip and Lady Palmerston to the drawing room, while Samantha accompanied Angela to their mother’s private sitting room.
“Angela!” her mother gasped in obvious shock. And then, rather than smile as Angela hoped she would do, her mother frowned. “Did anyone see you arrive? It should reflect poorly on your sisters if you were seen here. I thought we had agreed that you were not to return here.”
“I have stayed away for seven years. I couldn’t stay away any longer,” Angela answered. She was no longer running from her past but determined to make amends for the sake of her future.
“And in all that time, you seem to have forgotten how the neighbors gossip here. They still haven’t forgotten what you did,” her mother said cruelly. Angela felt Samantha squeeze her hand in support.
“Oh, Mama, no one mentions it anymore,” Samantha said. “And it wouldn’t matter if they did, since Angela is engaged.”
“You are?” Ah, the hint of a smile on her mother’s face.
“Yes. And we are in love,” Angela said. Her mother was not impressed.
“He’s a marquis,” Samantha added, and her mother suddenly seemed much happier.
“He’s downstairs, along with Lady Palmerston.”
“Oh! I haven’t seen her in years! How did you ever connect with her, my dear? And do tell me how you met this marquis ...”
 
For the first time in seven years, the Sullivan family was assembled in one room. Added to that was Angela’s new family, Phillip and her aunt. They all dined together, of course, with seven years’ worth of news to share. It was late by the time the ladies left the dining room for the customary after-supper tea.
Phillip remained in the dining room with Angela’s brother. Damien was younger than him, but years of acting as the head of his family had given him an air of authority that made him seem older than he was.
“Cigar?” Damien offered.
“Thanks.” Phillip accepted.
“So you mean to marry my sister.”
“Yes. We are planning to marry in London next month.”
“I’ll be there to walk her down the aisle,” Damien said. Phillip knew that would mean the world to her. Damien fell silent, looking at Phillip thoughtfully, before continuing.
“You are aware, obviously, that we have not had contact with Angela for some time.”
“Yes, and I can tell that you are too much of a gentleman and care for her too much to ask if I am aware of her past. I do know, and I do love her.”
“Thank you. My sisters and I never wanted her to leave. It was my mother’s insistence, mostly due to grief at the loss of our father. She’s proud, my mother, so she never admitted regret, but I could tell she missed Angela. We all did. And if she were hurt in any way, we would stand behind her.”
“I promise I will not hurt her, and that I will love her as she deserves.”
“Good. Brotherly warnings and threats are finished now. But before we rejoin the ladies, we ought to discuss her dowry.”
“She has one?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“No. She never mentioned it, and frankly, it never occurred to me.”
“Well, that eases my mind that you were marrying her for her money,” Damien said. “She probably expected that she no longer did. But she does. My father set aside portions for all my sisters.”
“But you might have—”
“I didn’t,” Damien said. “I figured that if she didn’t marry, she might need the money anyway. Knowing her, I can’t believe she lasted as long in the abbey as she did. We’ll draw up the wedding contracts tomorrow. Cheers,” Damien said, raising his glass.
“Cheers.” Phillip raised his glass in toast.
“Ah, one sister settled. Two more to go,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “If they have their way—which they always do—they’ll be going to London with our aunt, and I should have to deal with this again.”
“They’ll be married within their first season with Lady Palmerston as their chaperone.”
“Why does that make me feel concerned?” Damien queried.
“Because it should. And she’ll have you married off, too, if you’re not careful.”
 
Lucas watched as they all enjoyed a long dinner, full of boisterous conversation and laughter that carried to where he waited in the gardens.
That should be me,
Lucas thought.
Huntley is in my place.
Lucas could only think of one way to get rid of his rival and thus to secure his place at Angela’s side.

 

Chapter 25
There
was really only so much that a man could endure, Phillip thought warily. He looked at his watch again. Lady Palmerston and Angela had been discussing wedding plans for the past three hours. He stifled a yawn and leaned his head against the window.
Every time he tried to nod off, they woke him to ask his opinion.
“Phillip, what do you think of roses?”
“I don’t.”
“You don’t like them? I know, it’s such a predictable choice, but they are so lovely.”
“I don’t think of them. I want whatever you want.”
“And, at the moment, he hopes you want an elopement to Gretna Green, I wager,” Lady Palmerston said.
“She said it, not me,” he replied to Angela’s questioning look.
“Oh, go to sleep. We have to talk about my gown, and I want that to be a surprise for you.”
“Thank you,” he said and closed his eyes. His respite was short-lived, however. Their carriage came to a stop a few moments later. Phillip looked out the window and saw absolutely nothing . . . nothing but open fields and blue sky, and no reason to stop, unless there was a problem.
“I’ll see what this is about. Stay here,” he said and stepped out.
There was another carriage stopped at an odd, diagonal angle in the road ahead of them. Phillip couldn’t imagine why someone would park it thus, or what circumstances had caused it. But that vehicle did look familiar, or perhaps it was that it seemed more suited to town than country.
“We can’t get through, unless we help them move their carriage,” the driver, Frank, commented.
“Hello, there!” The driver of the other carriage stepped out. “Have a bit of a problem. Per’aps you might lend a hand?”
“Sure. What is the problem?”
“Something with the door on the other side. My master started off for town about an hour ago, to get help. But if I can fix it up, then I reckon I could catch up to him.”
This struck Phillip as odd. Usually, the kind of man who owned that kind of carriage would not undertake to walk miles to the nearest village in the hot midday sun when he could send the driver. But to each his own, Phillip thought.
“We’ll have a look at it,” Phillip said and walked around to the far side of the carriage. And there he stopped when he saw—
Silently, Phillip offered up what was likely to be his last prayer.
He didn’t need to see what transpired behind his back, for the sounds alone told him all he needed to know. Someone took a blow to the head and then fell to the dirt. Someone else was dragging that body into the carriage, through a door that had nothing wrong with it at all. Phillip noticed that out of the corner of his eye, it was Lady Palmerston’s driver who was now unconscious.
“Tie up his hands,” Frost said to the driver. The rope was ready, and Phillip’s hands were yanked behind his back and tied tightly with a length of rope.
“Thank you; you may go,” Lucas Frost said. “Wait in the carriage and keep an eye on the other driver.”
“I presume that was not addressed to me,” Phillip said, staring at the pistol Frost had aimed at him. The driver, presumably, had followed orders, leaving them alone by the side of the road, on the far side of the carriage so that neither Angela nor Lady Palmerston might see.
BOOK: The Rogue and the Rival
12.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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