A Guardians Angel (14 page)

“Let us take care of one matter at a time,” Justin replied.

Angela’s frown returned. Justin was so busy watching his daughter with Leonia and the youngest Sutton children that he did not see Thomas’s despair. She started to speak to the lad, but he brushed aside her words. Striding through the gate, he let it slam behind him.

Angela sighed. Keeping all the children happy at once seemed an impossibility. Her delight at this first meeting between Esther and Delicia was muted by Thomas’s unexpected envy. Somehow she must convince the lad that Justin would find time for both him and Delicia. Then she realized she could not promise Thomas that. She had no idea what Justin—or the duke—planned after this single call.

As Esther led the way to the gate, Angela followed. “Swinging on the gate is not a good idea.”

“It is fun!” said Seth stoutly.

“But you may break the gate.”

“You are no fun, guardian’s angel!”

Justin laughed. “What did you call her?”

“Guardian’s angel.” Seth stood as tall as he could. “That is what Thomas calls her. She is our guardian’s Angela, so …”

Justin did not hear the rest of what the little boy had to say.
Our guardian’s Angela?
The very sound of those words bothered him, threatening to resurrect the past that he had believed buried with his late wife. That had been before Oslington had returned to his family’s estate, bringing the obligation of four children with him along with a daily reminder of the past.

As he walked beside Angela as she steered the children out of the garden to play in the field that separated Harrington Grange from Oslington Court, his fingers rose to caress her cheek. He pulled it back. Did she have any idea how difficult it had been to walk away and leave her standing by Oslington in the garden? Every step had been shadowed by the craving to turn around and demand that she stay far away from Oslington. She had not appeared to notice how Oslington had inched closer to her during their brief exchange. The duke had made it clear that he considered Angela his.

Guardian’s Angela
.

He cursed under his breath, wishing he had never heard those two words together.

“Why are you so dour?” Angela asked. “I would have thought you would be happy to see how well Delicia and the others are getting along.”

“I am.”

“Then …”

“Mayhap I am like Thomas.”

“Jealous that the other children are intruding on your time with him? Thomas needs to learn that he must share his time with you if he hopes to have any time here.”

“I am jealous of how the children are intruding on my time with you.” He was glad that he could smile. The sweet flavor of truth whetted his hunger to sample her lips.

“You are being ridiculous.”

“Me? What is ridiculous about that?”

She lowered her voice. “I saw your reaction to what Seth called me. I know you are bothered by it.”

“You are insightful. I should always remember that.” By Jove, he must be more cautious around her, but how could he think about hiding his thoughts when each one was about her?

He drew her hand within his arm as they continued along the dusty road. The scent of summer flowers hung thickly in the hot air, but a gentle breeze was seasoned so lightly with salt from the sea not so many miles away. While Esther and Seth raced over the stile and into the field, Leonia followed more slowly, holding Delicia’s hand. Where Thomas might be, he could not guess.

Nor did he wish to spend time considering that. He wanted to be here with Angela’s fingers on his sleeve and her steps matching his. Even more glorious than the aroma of flowers was the ethereal perfume she wore. It was intoxicating, urging him to throw aside common sense and pull her into his arms again.

“Do not fret so, Justin.” Angela’s words drew him out of his mesmerism with the fantasy of holding her.

“Fret? Me?”

She laughed, and he was pleased that the sound was not too strained as she climbed the stile. “You cannot deny the truth.”

“Nor can you. In your eyes, as you brought Esther Sutton forward, I saw my own anxiety that all of this must not be allowed to explode into more problems.”

“Esther is always an uncertain variable, but she is a kind child. Delicia is, you must own, neither salt nor sugar. She will not melt at the first touch.”

“True, and I must allow her to live as normal a life as she can.”

Angela smiled, and he followed her gaze to where Esther was kneeling to point out a clump of wildflowers peeking through a bedding of leaves. A nearly identical expression of delight and eagerness brightened Delicia’s face. Tagging after them, Seth was distracted when a dragonfly buzzed past him.

“What is wrong?” he asked when he saw Angela’s smile waver.

“I wish Thomas was here to make the group complete.”

“He will come about when he learns what he is missing.” He chuckled when Seth took Delicia by the hand and tugged her with him to chase after the dragonfly.

“See?” Angela patted his arm. “Children take to one another without needing a common language.”

“You are a wise woman, Angela Needham.”

“A compliment from you?” She laughed. “This is a rare pleasure.”

“Not as rare nor as pleasurable as when I kissed you in Oslington’s garden.”

The children’s voices grew distant as she turned to face him. There was no mistaking that she shared the yearning that had kept him from sleeping each night since he had left Oslington Court. When her hand brushed his cheek lightly, his arms were around her, tugging her to him, before he had time for conscious thought. Within him, there was only the need to savor her mouth and delightful curves as he was caught up in a sweet web of happiness. He bent toward her, eager to satisfy this hunger for her lips.

Angela flinched when she heard a throat being cleared behind her. Pulling away from Justin, she turned to see Mrs. Graves’s disapproving face.

The housekeeper held out a basket. “You forgot this, my lord.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Graves,” he replied.

His housekeeper strode away, as candid in her dislike of the situation as Thomas had been.

“Pay her no mind,” Justin said with a sigh. “Mrs. Graves can be as grim as her name. She has become very attached to Delicia and is determined to see that nothing bad will happen to her.”

“Or to you.” Angela turned as Esther shouted her name. Waving to the little girl, she said, “I was wrong when I said we needed a chaperon.”

“It seems we have too many.”

“Mayhap not.”

“What?” His dark brows lowered.

“Justin, the children should remind us that I am here to be Leonia’s companion.”

“Instead of mine?”

She gasped at his bold words, but was unsure if he heard her, because Delicia ran up to him. He did not look at Angela as he followed his daughter to where she was gesturing to something on the ground.

Had she misunderstood his words? He had been jesting with her. Had her heart sought a meaning that he had not intended? She was afraid so, for she was discovering, only now, how her heart longed to be his. She could not imagine anything that could complicate her life more.

Ten

“Isn’t it wonderful?” gushed Leonia as she rushed into the small parlor where Angela was waiting for their next lesson.

Angela struggled to keep a stern expression in place. “Leonia, I have told you several times that you do not come into a room as if you have been shot from a cannon.”

“But this is so important!” She grasped Angela’s hands and tugged her to the pale green settee between two tall windows that reached to the ceiling. The shadow from the rafters that dropped from the peaked ceiling created a striped pattern on the flowered wallcovering and across the green paisley rug.

“Leonia, the import of a message does not grant you leave to forget your manners.” Sitting, she smiled up at the agitated young woman. “However, it seems that you will burst with the tidings if you do not speak them soon.”

Dropping inelegantly to the cushion beside Angela, Leonia winced when Angela scowled again. “Sorry, but I am so excited that I cannot calm myself.”

“Take a deep breath.”

Leonia tried, but it puffed out in a wild explosion as she said, “I just spoke with Rodney, and he has received an invitation from a friend who served with him in India. Lord Milborough. He lives not far from Edinburgh. He is getting married. We are invited. Angela! What will I wear? The wedding is only ten days from now. Can I get a gown ready for it? Can I wear my hair up? I know I am not out yet, but can I have a gown made like the one I saw in the pattern-book during our last call at Mrs. Raleigh’s? The one that had ribbons woven through the lace on the sleeves? Can I—?”

“Whoa!” Angela held up her hands. “Leonia, please allow me to answer one question before you pelt me with a dozen more.”

“It is so exciting!”

“That it is, but the first question must be: Is the duke planning to accept the invitation to the wedding?”

“He must!” Leonia’s face bleached with horror.

“That is his choice.” Angela hated to have to pop Leonia’s bubble of joy, but the duke seemed to enjoy the quiet of his book-room and seldom wandered beyond Oslington Court’s gardens. “If he chooses to go, he may choose to go alone.”

Leonia jumped to her feet. “He would not!”

“That also is his choice.”

“Then we must make sure he makes the right choice.”

“Leonia—”

Angela sighed as the young woman raced out of the parlor at a pace even more indecorous than when she had entered. Standing to follow, she had not reached the doorway before Leonia returned … with the duke in tow.

“Tell him,” Leonia pleaded. “Tell him how important this is.”

Angela glanced from Leonia’s hopeful face to the duke’s vexation. That he carried a book under one arm was no surprise. She doubted if she had seen him more than a handful of times without something to read. His interests were eclectic, but usually focused on history and science. As she had before, she bit back her questions about why he and Justin were at such odds when they seemed to have so much in common. As she had before, she reminded herself that her sole concern here should be Leonia.

“Your Grace,” Angela began.

“No need for
you
to apologize, Miss Needham,” he said, shaking his head. “It seems that both you and I shall get nothing else accomplished today until we iron out this matter of Milborough’s nuptials.”

Grasping his arm and regarding him with obvious hope, Leonia said, “Do say we can go, Rodney. There are certain to be many people there who were once stationed with us at Fort St. George.”

“That is questionable.” He looked over her head to Angela. “Milborough was an irascible man who preferred to ignore orders that did not suit him. Men of a military bent chose to avoid him.”

“But he is getting married!” cried Leonia.

Angela stepped forward and drew her charge back from the duke, who seemed overmastered by Leonia’s outburst. “Leonia, there is no need to lengthen this discussion by stating the obvious. You must let your guardian make his decision as he sees fit.”

Leonia whirled back to the duke. “Do say we shall go.”

“You would really enjoy that?” His smile was so gentle that Angela was astonished. This was not the cold duke who avoided any entanglements that stole time from his reading. “I recall you dancing in the shadows at the top of the stairs when you were younger than Seth.”

“I still love to dance, Rodney.” She laughed. “And you never told anyone that you had seen me there when I was supposed to be asleep.”

“Not any of the times I saw you there.” Again he looked past her to Angela. “Miss Needham, it might be an excellent opportunity for Leonia to meet some of the people she will encounter in London when she is fired off. Do you think she is ready to attend this wedding?”

Angela nodded. “There are more lessons she needs, but, if she concentrates on what she needs to learn, she should be ready.”

“Very well.” He patted Leonia’s cheek lightly as he did the younger children. “Study well, Leonia, so you might be ready.”

“I shall make you proud of me, Rodney,” she asserted, her eyes glowing with happiness.

“I suspect you shall.” He nodded toward Angela and walked out of the parlor.

Again Angela noted the wistful expression on Leonia’s face. There was a candid longing in the young woman’s eyes and more than a hint of sorrow. Sudden tears filled her own, because she wondered if Leonia was thinking of the past and her late father, who would never see her enter the Polite World.

But there was no time for melancholy. Clapping her hands, she said, “Leonia, we must get to work right away on a gown for you to wear to this wedding. It cannot be too ornate, because you are not yet fired-off. I believe I saw a white gown that you have in your cupboard that might be appropriate with some alterations.”

“And what will you wear?” Leonia’s sad face was now aglow with anticipation.

“Me?”

“You will be coming with us.”

“The duke said nothing of that.”

Leonia laughed and clasped Angela’s hand. “Why should he have to when you know I shall need you there to help me avoid any
faux pas?
”

“Yes …” She doubted if Leonia noticed the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. While the young woman prattled about the wedding and who would be there and what she would wear and how she wished she could dance with all the guests, Angela sat and stared out the window in the direction of Harrington Grange.

Going to Lord Milborough’s estate near Edinburgh would require at least a fortnight away from Oslington Court, and a fortnight would mean at least two Thursdays when she would not be able to take the children to play with Delicia. That meant missing two chances to spend time with Justin. She had not guessed how dreary that thought would make her.

The afternoon was perfect for dining
al fresco
beneath a gnarled tree by the stream that twisted through the meadow between Oslington Court and Harrington Grange. A rare summer heat had brought even the children beneath the shade for a respite from the sunshine.

The basket that had once been overflowing with food was now nearly empty. Crumbs from the delicious meat pies made in the kitchens of Oslington Court mixed on the trio of blankets with splatters of lemonade that Mrs. Graves had squeezed for them.