The Wicked Game (A Wicked Game Novel) (2 page)

He was a man.

He was free.

***

Angela pushed herself down further in the tub and sighed. She had been soaking in the bath water for quite a while and was finally feeling a slight bit of ease. But now the water was getting cold and her fingers and toes were starting to wrinkle, so for now it was time to leave this safe haven and return back to the world. Under no circumstances was she looking forward to it. If it was up to her she would stay in the safe bubble of the bath water forever. What did it matter that she was starting to shiver or that her skin was pruney; anything would better than having to attend yet another social event.

But since when did a mere woman have a say in the matter? Like all women she belonged to her parents and her family and even to the social world. They all controlled her future and she had no say.

“I will never have any say.” Angela murmured these words unconsciously and they rang in her ears in the solitude of the bedroom. Maybe if she just stayed here, naked and in the bath, then she wouldn’t have to go. But she knew that would never work. Even in this condition she was not truly free. No doubt her mother would send someone up to fetch her and then drag her downstairs exposed to the world. As long as she was at the party her mother wouldn’t care. Besides, naked as a jaybird was bound to attract more attention than a stunning gown.

As amusing as this little scene was in her mind, it would not be amusing at all if it became reality. With this thought, Angela finally gave in and rose up from the false safety of the water.

“I’ll get enough attention as it is.” Yes, she would much prefer to be dressed when she arrived at Lady Sutherland’s party.

Even still she took her time as she used the soft linen to pat herself dry. Just a few more minutes of peace and solitude. That was all she needed. But apparently she wasn’t going to get it.

From outside, a sudden bellowing broke the spell of her silence.

First there was a loud screaming and then the whole forest began to move as birds screeched and took flight. Angela quickly threw her soft, muslin robe around her still damp body and rushed to the window to see what was going on.

She squinted her eyes as she tried to pinpoint exactly what was going on and exactly who was making all of the commotion. After scanning the horizon she finally found the source; a scrawny boy with his hands above his head, screaming at the top of his lungs. Angela didn’t immediately recognize him but then again, she supposed she probably wouldn’t. Servants and household help came and went frequently in manors such as this. She had tried, once, to become acquainted with as many of the staff as possible but with the comings and goings she had been unsuccessful, and thus sent into even more despair; a servant after all, could come and go as he pleased in the world, but she was still here shackled to the wants and desires of others.

Angela pulled her robe more tightly around her and slowly sat down in the window seat. The spring breeze coming in the window was cool and soothing. She breathed the air deeply into her lungs. The scents that perfumed the air during this time of year had always played with her heart and brought joy to her otherwise mediocre days. With each breath a different fragrance filled her nostrils and she savored each bit as it slowly moved through her nose and filled her body. With her eyes closed Angela could actually
taste
the flavor of each new flower and the leaves on the trees.
This is wonderful
, reverberated through her mind and she wished with all her soul that she might stay here forever just drinking in the day. The earth was waking up and the sweet aroma of new life overflowed in the air.

New life. The very thought of it sent a shudder down her spine. Very soon Angela’s family would find a husband for her and the two of them would start a life together. Then they would
make
a life, most likely
many
lives, together. She was nearly one and twenty and by society standards had only been available for a few years but her mother had been thrusting her into the public eye since age thirteen.

As overbearing as they could be, Angela truly loved and was thankful for
her men
. When she got right down to it she considered every male member of her family as one of
her men
, at times even her own father, but there were only three of them left unmarried and thus able to devote all of their time to thwarting her male suitors. God love her three men! Arthur and Daniel, her two eldest brothers, and Richard, a cousin: ages thirty, five and twenty, and four and twenty respectively.

She knew that one day,
someday
, they would want her to be married but in the meantime she couldn’t blame them for protecting her, the only female.
Her men
were very effective at keeping away the attention that she didn’t want…then again no one knew that she didn’t want the attention. She supposed that deep down
her men
knew her true feelings but in this world, feelings mattered less than women themselves.

Angela supposed that most women her age craved the type of attention she received. The constant fawning, the gifts, the poems; while most women chased it, it chased Angela. She spent most of her time trying to keep from losing her lunch every time she was forced to listen to a sappy and pathetic poem describe a women who didn’t exist.

But none of this mattered anyway. It didn’t matter how forcefully her mother paraded her around and it also didn’t matter how forcefully
her men
tried to hide her. Angela’s birth alone had made sure that everyone knew who she was. As the only female Bennett by blood, she was quite the celebrity. She had no shortage of suitors but secretly, she felt a shortage within herself.

It wasn’t that she had a lack of attention. Quite the contrary. Everyone wanted to meet her and everyone wanted to be her friend… or more. “It is an extreme pleasure, surely,” they all said. But she hated all the attention they gave her. She absolutely bloody resented it! Everyone wanted the female Bennett; the beloved daughter of Lord Cheston. No one wanted her.

Angela. Just Angela.

All she ever wanted was for someone to see the real her; the woman she would have been if she had been born to another family, or simply had just had a sister.

To the rest of the world she was a blank canvas and everyone just drew her how they saw her; the Baron’s daughter, a miracle from God, a pretty little present to hold on their arm. The worst part was that every person she had ever met drew her in exactly the same way. Maybe that wasn’t so horrible in itself other than that all of her supposed likenesses were as flat and one dimensional as the blank canvas they drew on. And then of course, they all drew a person who didn’t, in actuality, exist.

No one really knew her. They saw what they expected and they apparently didn’t expect much. Angela learned long ago that although society saw her as the perfect woman, nothing much was really expected of a woman. And so day after day and ball after ball she stood with a smile painted on her face, rejecting all the knowledge that filled her brain and letting the people think what they might. After all they would think what they wanted anyway, no use in trying when it would only leave her in tears.

Unconsciously she let out a scream and she felt like a teapot releasing its pressure. She tried it again, louder and more forcefully, this time allowing the tension to drain from her body in a slow and calming wave.

“Miss Bennett?”

The voice shocked her and she fell off of her seat and landed in a heap on top of her reading table.

The voice spoke again. “I heard a noise. Is everything alright?”

Angela collected herself and quickly rose to her feet, swaying slightly as she did so. The frightening voice she heard had only been Sarah, her lady’s maid, and her face was turning the same shade of green as the dress she held in her arms. Angela was expecting her and the dress, of course. She looked it over and realized that she had never seen it before. Mother. It was her mission to make sure that she never wore the same dress to society events and so far she was succeeding. What a ridiculous waste of money. If Angela had her way she would wear her riding breeches. What a happy day that had been! Angela had made them herself from scraps she found in the washroom and had gotten all too much pleasure out of the horror they caused her entire family. Now
those
would keep the men away.

Maybe.

“Miss Bennett? Is everything alright?” Sarah repeated as the color in her face began to fade back to normal.

“Everything is fine. I just tripped.” Her answer was without conviction.

She could tell that Sarah was not convinced but Angela didn’t press her. She was sure whatever story Sarah had spinning around in her head would make much better gossip than the truth.

“I wanted to bring you this new dress. It’s the one your mother bought at that elegant store she came across in Wales. If I might speak quite frankly, Miss, it is truly ravishing.”

“I know what you mean,” Angela retorted, eyebrow raised. She meant it was expensive, very expensive, and that if she didn’t wear it, she would never hear the end of it from her mother.

Angela took the dress and eyed it cautiously as if it might bite her. It was then that she noticed Sarah staring at something behind her. Angela turned to see her reading table flat on the floor, all four legs splayed out like a squished bug.

“Would you like me to send someone up to fix it?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Sarah headed for the door a little too quickly, no doubt to blab this little incident to anyone who would listen, and Angela almost felt bad stopping her to tell her she had forgotten the gloves.

“Yes ma’am. I’ll bring them right back.” And she turned again and left the room, leaving Angela alone again, save for the dress.

It really was a nice dress. It was soft, light green silk with just enough embellishment to be interesting and not gaudy. The neckline was a rather low swoop but just enough to be coy and not wanton. Angela held the dress up to herself and saw that the waist line was going to rest just slightly below her breasts and the sleeves were just a bit shorter than average. Leave it to mother to stay completely in vogue with the changing fashions. Even so, she couldn’t deny that it was a truly ravishing gown, even if it was green. She could hear her mother now, “Darling, no other color but green will do for that stunning auburn hair!”

Just another reason for everyone to look at her.

Now of course Angela was not completely opposed to attention. But the
right
attention from the
right
man. There was only one way that ever might be possible: if she could just meet a man who had never heard of her or her family. Fat chance of that ever happening.

Dejected again, she went to her dressing room while she waited for Sarah to return. As she passed by the mirror she caught a small glimpse of herself and paused. How long had it been since she actually looked at her own reflection? It had more than likely been months, maybe even years. Long ago Angela had decided that men looked at her enough for the both of them and had thus stopped using mirrors unless absolutely necessary.

But why did they look at her? Angela had never found herself particularly attractive. She had to admit that auburn hair was quite interesting and her green-grey eyes did hold a certain amount of allure. But was that enough? No, she never saw herself as ugly but she didn’t suppose she was a brilliant beauty either. So again, as always, who she was to them became more important than the real her.

Angela lowered her robe slightly, just enough to see her collar bone and the top of her swelling breasts. She stretched her neck upward and observed the supple curve of her upper body. Her skin was smooth and silky and at this moment, slightly pink. It had to be the bath water because normally Angela’s skin had a milky tone that vaguely reminded her of a porcelain doll. She let the robe slip more.

Now she could see her entire body all the way down to her navel. Her breasts were full and in their proper position; the nipples erect with the chill of the room. Her eyes were tracing down to her belly button and exploring the flowing curve of her hips when she heard the door open. Angela pulled the robe up covering her breasts but a great deal was still exposed. She turned around expecting Sarah with the gloves but her lady’s maid was not there.

Instead, standing in the doorway was the most handsome man she had ever seen.

***

It was the stranger she had seen earlier in the yard. And yes, he most definitely was a man. He must have been farther away than she thought for her to have mistaken him for a scrawny young boy. How else could she have judged him so wrongly? From this distance his appearance was unmistakable. Even through his clothes Angela could see that he had a strong and muscular frame. The strength of his arms bulged slightly and his legs matched the silhouette. Thin, powerful, and very alluring. Her eyes drifted a bit lower to his…

No. She couldn’t and she looked at his face instead. His skin had been darkened from the sun, his brunette hair was unkempt, and he had the beginning of a beard. By conventional standards he was too rugged to be attractive. Everything about him was wrong but something about him just seemed so right. So, so…

“Oh my God!” Angela suddenly realized with horror.

She was still dressed in nothing than her robe, her very thin robe, completely exposed to him. How long had she been standing here, indecent, gawking at this handsome stranger? It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, could it? She met his eyes and noticed now that he was staring at her too. Angela found her voice.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my room?”

***

Andrew had not expected to be set to work within minutes of arriving at the Baron’s country manor house. But when the maid had seen him and informed him that Miss Bennett’s table was in dire need of repair he had no choice but to fix it. He also had not expected Miss Bennett to be in the room…