To Tempt An Angel (Book 1 Douglas series) (16 page)

Chapter 9

She felt like a princess.

Alone in her chamber, Angelica stood in front of the cheval glass and inspected herself. She could hardly believe the image was her own. Never had she worn so fine a gown.

Created in ice blue silk, it had a low-cut bodice and short Spanish shoulder sleeves. Her blond mane had been confined at the back of her neck in a knot. On one side of her coiffure, she wore a white rose, flowers in a lady’s hair being all the rage this season. Or so her aunt had informed her.

Angelica studied herself from every angle. She looked like a princess, which was exactly what she wanted. She needed to look like a wealthy young woman on this important evening, the night she began to exact her retribution for crimes against the Douglas family.

Was Robert Campbell destined to be her prince and slay the dragon named Emerson?

Angelica smiled at the absurd bent of her thoughts. Robert Campbell was no prince, merely a disreputable marquess.

And you love him.

The unexpected thought startled her. Yes, she loved him, but he would never know. That knowledge in his hands would only cause her heartache. Angelica forced herself to think of the mission instead of the man. She had no intention of allowing Robert to have all the fun. While he was ruining Alasdair Trimble, she would study the others and decide which of them would gamble against her another night.

Participating was preferable to watching, and Angelica felt certain that ruining her victims herself would give her infinitely more satisfaction. Or should she save her skills for the blackest villain of all, Charles Emerson?

Touching her diamond pendant Angelica hoped the evening would go smoothly and her aunt was correct about the diamond’s protection. She glanced at her hands and realized her nervous anticipation was making them tremble. The night she had dreamed about for years had arrived.

A knock on the door drew her attention. “Come in,” she called.

“Come,” Jasper mimicked her.

Samantha and Victoria walked into the chamber. Samantha wore a pink satin gown, and Victoria was dressed in the palest shade of yellow.

“Hello,” said Jasper.

“Hello,” the sisters chimed together, crossing the chamber to inspect their older sister.

“You look beautiful,” Samantha said.

“You look beautiful, too,” Angelica replied. She turned to Victoria and said, “You look lovely and so grown up. The pale yellow complements your hair perfectly.”

“I thought I would look like a carrot-topped daisy,” Victoria admitted with a smile.

“We can thank Aunt Roxie’s impeccable fashion sense for choosing good colors for us,” Angelica said. “I just wish we could wear mourning clothes for Papa.”

“Wearing black won’t bring Papa back from the dead,” Samantha said. “We honor him more by getting even with those men. We’re meeting in the drawing room.”

“Are you ready?” Victoria asked.

Angelica shook her head. “I need a few minutes to focus on my mission. I’ll be along shortly.”

“Never forget that you are a countess with an impeccable pedigree,” Samantha said.

“Don’t worry, Angel,” Victoria added. “Consider this evening as the beginning of the most elaborate fraud we’ve ever concocted. These people are no match for us.”

Angelica laughed and hugged her youngest sister. “Tory, I love your optimism.”

“Will Jasper be accompanying us?” Victoria asked.

“Robert advised me to leave Jasper upstairs,” Angelica answered. “If he should bite someone’s finger off, the gambling would come to an abrupt halt.”

“That sounds wise,” Samantha said, limping toward the door. “We’ll see you downstairs.”

After they’d gone, Angelica lifted her gown and placed her last-resort dagger in the sheath attached to the garter strapped on her thigh. She didn’t expect any trouble, but, considering whom she was meeting, felt vulnerable without it.

Angelica stood in front of the cheval glass again to take one final look at herself. Both of her sisters were correct—she was a countess and a fraud.

Taking a deep breath, Angelica willed herself to calm down. “Wish me luck,” she called to the macaw.

“Luck,” Jasper called.

Angelica opened the bedchamber door, stepped into the corridor, and gasped in surprise. Robert stood there, leaning against the wall opposite her door.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Waiting for you,” he answered, with a devastatingly charming smile. “I was beginning to fear you would hide in your chamber after all my careful planning.”

“I’ve waited too long to miss this evening,” Angelica replied.

“You are simply perfection,” Robert said, dropping his gaze to her body. “Your bodice is cut too low, though.”

He likes the gown,
Angelica thought “Distracting Trimble will help you,” she told him.

“Hell,
I’m
distracted,” Robert said, and offered her his arm. “May I escort you, my lady?”

Angelica gave him a sunny smile and slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. “Our unsuspecting victims await us, my lord,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

The guests had assembled in the small drawing room where Duke Magnus was playing the host. Angelica fixed a warm, welcoming smile on her face as they crossed the room to the settee and chairs in front of the hearth.

“Here she is,” Aunt Roxie announced.

Though every person in the room turned to watch her, Angelica never hesitated or lost her gracious smile. She felt calm, yet excitement coursed through her body, the same feeling she had when she gambled.

“Lady Angelica may I present Baron Alasdair Trimble and his wife Mary,” Duke Magnus made the introductions. “Alasdair, this is Graham’s oldest daughter, the Countess of Melrose.”

Angelica turned her sunny smile on the baron and his wife. Both of them were middle-aged and graying; the baron was as fat as his wife was skinny.

Like a princess, Angelica offered the baron her hand and inclined her head at his wife. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said.

“The pleasure is ours, my lady,” Baron Trimble replied.

Touching her arm, Duke Magnus introduced Angelica to his other guests. Henry Drinkwater was thin to the point of emaciation; his wife Wilma was extremely round and appeared to be wearing every piece of jewelry she owned. Standing with Venetia, Mungo Mayhew had the biggest beak of a nose she’d ever seen and beady eyes that remained fixed on her cleavage.

Ignoring Venetia’s glare, Angelica greeted their final two guests, James Armstrong and Adam St. Aubyn. “Good evening, my lords.”

“Good evening, my lady,” James said, lifting her hand to his lips.

Adam inclined his head, saying, “You look lovely as usual.”

“Shall we go down to supper?” Duke Magnus said.

Leaving Mungo to escort Venetia and his friends to escort the Douglas sisters, Robert reached for Angelica’s hand and placed it on his arm. “Allow me to escort you to supper,” he said.

Angelica leaned close as they descended the stairs and whispered, “I wouldn’t wish to be near Mayhew when he sneezed.”

Robert laughed. “You cannot imagine the size of his handkerchiefs,” he said, lowering his voice.

“How large are they?”

“He uses his old sheets.”

Duke Magnus sat at the head of the table in the dining room, and Aunt Roxie, glorious in red, sat to his right. Robert escorted Angelica to the chair on the duke’s left and then sat down beside her. Opposite them had been placed Alasdair Trimble and his wife. Henry Drinkwater and his wife sat beside Robert. Appearing distinctly unhappy, Venetia and Mungo Mayhew had been relegated to the end of the party, beyond the Douglas sisters and Robert’s friends.

“How kind of you to invite us to dinner,” Mary Trimble said in a voice smaller than her body.

“I haven’t entertained for a long time,” Duke Magnus told the woman. He reached out to touch Aunt Roxie’s hand, adding, “Now, that Lady Roxanne and her nieces are here, I am planning to host many dinner parties and balls. As a matter of fact, my first ball will be on July twenty-third. We hope you will attend.”

“We are honored to have been chosen as your first guests,” Alasdair Trimble said, reaching for the rolls and butter. “We would never decline an invitation from you, Your Grace.”

Mr. Tinker supervised the footmen serving dinner. A rich French cucumber soup, enriched with egg yolks and cream, arrived first, and was followed by dandelions dressed with crisp bacon and a sharp vinaigrette. Next came meadow mushrooms, baked with a stuffing of garlic, shallots, parsley, and bread- crumbs and then doused in olive oil. Asparagus with melted butter arrived with the baked Dover sole and a plump chicken, roasted to perfection. There was wine for the gentlemen and lemon barley water for the ladies.

Mary Trimble talked more than she ate. “How old are your sisters?”

Angelica wanted no one to exclude Victoria from the social scene so she lied, “Both are eighteen.”

“Both are eighteen?” the woman echoed, appearing confused. “How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Angelica gave the woman a smile filled with sunshine. “I’m eighteen.”

“All three of you are eighteen?”

“I will be nineteen in a few months,” Angelica replied. “Samantha and Victoria recently became eighteen. My sisters are twins, you know.”

“They don’t even have the same hair color,” Mary Trimble said, looking dubious.

Angelica glanced sidelong at Robert. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, he appeared distinctly displeased.

“My nieces are fraternal twins,” Aunt Roxie spoke up, looking down the table at the other woman. “The birth of identical twins is rare. Isn’t that correct, Your Grace?”

Duke Magnus nodded. “So I’m told.”

“Baron Trimble, what do you do for entertainment?” Angelica asked, leaning forward slightly to give him a better view of her cleavage.

Trimble fixed his gaze on her breasts as if they were two tasty morsels being offered to him as a treat. He seemed at a loss for words but found his voice at last, saying, “I enjoy a turn at the gaming table.”

Angelica peeked at Robert. He had developed a twitch in his cheek muscle. “Do you dice, Baron?” she asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“I love to watch the dice roll across the table,” Angelica gushed. Then she added, “Perhaps we could toss together later.” Only a dead man would have missed the suggestion in her voice.

Duke Magnus coughed, and her aunt smiled. Baron Trimble appeared ready to swoon. Angelica didn’t bother to look at Robert. She knew he would be unhappy with her behavior.

“Ladies do
not
toss dice,” Mary Trimble told her.

“My sisters and I possess very Continental attitudes,” Angelica told the woman.

“You can watch the men throw dice later,” Robert said. “How about it, Trimble?”

“I’d love a few games of chance,” the baron replied. “With Lady Angelica watching, I feel confident of winning.”

“How are our commodity investments, son?” Duke Magnus asked, changing the subject.

Angelica glanced at Robert who frowned at his father and pretended deafness. Duke Magnus missed his son’s warning look.

“I asked what commodities are doing well,” the duke repeated in a louder voice.

Baron Trimble chuckled. “Your Grace, the marquess doesn’t want to answer in front of us and give away a hot tip.”

“Robert, where is the harm in our guests investing in a profitable commodity?” Duke Magnus asked.

Robert appeared decidedly uncomfortable. He hesitated briefly and then said, “Leeks and salt.”

“Leeks and salt?” the duke echoed in apparent surprise.

Grim-faced, Robert nodded and lowered his voice. “Shortages are expected, and prices will soar.”

“Use that information as you wish,” Duke Magnus told the baron. “Refrain from spreading it around, or none of us will make a profit.”

“You can depend upon me,” Trimble replied.

Leeks and salt?
Angelica thought in bewilderment. How many people ate leeks? Wasn’t the ocean filled with salt?

Mr. Tinker and a small army of servants served dessert. There were seasonal fruits, cheeses, lemon sponge cake with whipped cream on the side, and sherry syllabub.

“Lady Angelica almost married Prince Rudolf,” Angelica heard Venetia telling those at her end of the table. “Can you imagine any woman disappointing a prince?”

“Oh, my, she actually refused a prince?” Wilma Drinkwater exclaimed.

“A wife should make her husband happy,” Aunt Roxie spoke up. “If Angelica wasn’t happy living in Russia, she would never have made Prince Rudolf  happy.”

“I liked Rudy too much to make him unhappy,” Angelica said.

“How magnanimous of you,” Wilma Drinkwater said.

Mary Trimble nodded in agreement. “Most women would have accepted his offer and, once married, refused to live in Russia.”

“My dearest niece is much nobler than most women,” Aunt Roxie told them.

“Whoever would like to hear Venetia’s pianoforte come along to the music room,” Duke Magnus said as dinner ended. “Those who prefer gambling can accompany Robert to my study.”

Duke Magnus and Aunt Roxie escorted the Drinkwaters and Lady Trimble to the music room. With obvious reluctance, Samantha and Victoria accompanied them, along with Venetia and Mungo Mayhew.

“I’m going to watch the dicing,” Angelica announced, slipping her arm through the baron’s.

Reaching the study, Angelica sat down at the desk beside Trimble. She wanted to be near the baron in order to distract him.

“I really would like to play,” Angelica said.

“Ladies in England do not dice,” Baron Trimble said, echoing his wife’s words.

“Ladies on the Continent dice,” Angelica told him, leaning close to give him another peek at her cleavage. She was so close he could have tweaked her nipple, and she expected him to start drooling any moment.

“What else do ladies on the Continent do?” Trimble asked in a choked voice, his gaze fixed on the swell of flesh above her low-cut bodice.

“Naughty things,” she whispered, casting him a flirtatious smile.