A Guardians Angel (18 page)

“Must we go so soon?”

Bending, he cupped her cheek. “I thought you were the tutor of all things proper for Leonia. What sort of example would you give your young charge if you were discovered here in my arms?”

“The wrong one for her,” she replied. Putting her hand on his arm, she stood with a grace that suggested she was dancing. “However, I am not sure if it would be the wrong one for me.”

A craving to hold her ricocheted through him, so he did not answer as he led her to a place where light from the ballroom spilled through yet another door onto the bricks. She regarded him with soft eyes that suggested she would have favored remaining in the shadows. Mayhap he had been a fool to bring her out into the light, but where else could he see her glorious smile? And, he had to own, he did not trust himself to be alone with her in a secluded corner any longer, for he wanted so much more than her captivating kisses.

When she slipped her hand into his, he went with her to a bench at the very edge of the arc of light escaping the ballroom. He sat beside her and smiled when she rested her head on his shoulder. It seemed to belong there, and he was suffused with a sense of wonder of why he had had to wait so long to discover that.

When she ran her fingers through the leaves on a bush beside the bench, he asked, “Are you looking for a fairy hiding in there?”

“No, not a fairy. I know they do not come out unless the moon is full.”

He looked up at the curved sliver rising above the chimneys. “It will be a fortnight at least before you shall have the chance to catch one.”

“I never have been able to.” She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. “Mayhap I should look for butterflies instead.”

“Even more fruitless.” He chuckled. “You will not find them at this time of night, because butterflies seem to adore the sunshine.”

“The moonlight would wash out the beautiful colors from their wings.”

“Instead of glistening on them and turning them into flying rainbows.”
As the sunlight does to your hair
. He ran his finger along one of her curls, which had become silver in the dim light.

“Did you ever wonder where butterflies sleep?”

He let the single curl twist around his finger like the tiny hand of a child. “When I was Delicia’s age, I believed that butterflies must spend the nights deep within the flowers that closed up when the sun set.” Leaning his cheek against her fragrant hair, he murmured, “I infuriated my mother that summer by peeling open all her blossoms so I could look inside to find a sleeping butterfly.”

Laughing, she looped her arms around his, which was wrapped around her waist. “No wonder you and Thomas are such good friends. I can imagine him doing the very same thing.” She nestled closer to him as she drew her feet up beneath her on the bench.

“And you were an angelic child?”

“Of course!”

“Pardon me if I find that difficult to believe.”

She laughed, and he gathered the lilting sound around him so he could hear it again and again when she was no longer in his arms. When she began to tell him about one of her childish misadventures, he knew he must find a way to keep this night going on for as long as he could. He knew it was a stolen moment … and how unlikely it was that they would have another.

“Where have you been?”

At Leonia’s testy tone, Angela’s footsteps, which had seemed as bouncy as if she were walking through clouds, became quite earthbound. She walked across the antechamber of the suite of rooms to where Leonia sat hunched on a low settee by one of the windows.

“It is nearly dawn!” Leonia gasped, flinging out her hand toward the window.

“I know.”

“Where have you been?”

“One of the things you must learn about the
ton
is that the hours they keep have little to do with the sun.” She ran her fingers lightly over the back of the settee, remembering how Justin’s hair had glided through them.

“But I looked for you! I went back to the ballroom when you did not come upstairs. You were not to be found.”

“I had gone out on a terrace.”

Angela thought that Leonia might demand an explanation of why Angela had left the ballroom, but Leonia said only, “You knew I was upset.”

“I thought you might like some time to sort out your thoughts before we talked.” She yawned and smiled an apology.

“You do not care about my broken heart!”

Dropping to her knees beside the distraught young woman, Angela folded Leonia’s hands between hers. “You know that is not so. I care deeply about you, but I know there is nothing I can say or do to alter your situation.”

“I know.” She sighed and blinked back tears, luminous in the first light of the dawn. “What can I do? I am sure I love him, but he thinks I am just a child.”

“What you need to do now is get some sleep.” Standing, she brought Leonia to her feet. “The younger children will be up soon.”

“How can I sleep when I am so sad?”

“Mayhap in your dreams, you can find a solution to your sorrow.” She raised one finger as she saw hope fill Leonia’s eyes. “I am not talking about a wishful dream, but a dream that might reveal to you some truth you have overlooked.”

Again, Leonia’s shoulders drooped, but she went into the room she shared with Esther.

Angela opened her own door. Would she be able to follow her advice to Leonia? She could not conceive of sleeping when her heart was threatening to burst with joy. She never had guessed how splendid it would be to sit through the night and share reminiscences and kisses with a man who so often vexed her. Undressing and getting into her bed, she leaned back against the pillows and stared up at the wooden canopy above her. She slowly recreated Justin’s face in her mind, relishing each strong line. As she closed her eyes as she had when his lips found hers, she let the waking dream dissolve into sleep where spending a lifetime of nights with him forever was not impossible.

Angela tried to keep from rubbing the sleep from her eyes and gave Leonia a sympathetic smile as Esther and Seth ran through the room, eagerly awaiting the chance to join the other guests at the wedding breakfast. The two hours of sleep she had gotten must be enough until she could return to the room for a nap in the afternoon. Thomas sat to one side, fingering the butterfly net that he must have put in the carriage’s boot when no one was paying attention. He kept glancing at the clock.

“You will not be able to go looking for butterflies until after the wedding breakfast,” Leonia said, her fatigued voice cranky.

“Mayhap I can go earlier.”

“You cannot leave the wedding breakfast.”

“I can if Justin does, too.”

Leonia spun to face Angela. “Lord Harrington is here?”

“Yes,” Angela replied. “He is also an old friend of Lord Milborough.”

“You knew he was here?”

“I saw him last night.”

Leonia’s mouth became a perfect circle, but she asked no more questions. Instead she stood to one side while Angela calmed Esther and Seth enough so they could go down to the wedding breakfast.

The dining room where the guests were already serving themselves by the time Angela arrived with the children was bigger than the rooms they had upstairs. A trio of doors were opened to the gardens where roses bloomed. More flowers were set in huge bunches in vases on the long table and the various sideboards around the room. Servants wandered among the guests, offering drinks and assistance.

Thomas waved wildly, and Angela looked to her left to see Justin walking toward them through the press of guests who all seemed eager to be the first to sample the dishes that filled the room with tempting aromas. She had not thought he could appear more handsome this morning than he had last night, but she had been wrong. He wore a vest embroidered with vines as green as his coat. His smile held no hint that he had had as little sleep as she had.

“How long do we have to stay here?” Thomas asked with a grin.

“Can I, at least, say good morning to these three lovely ladies?” Justin smiled and, bending toward Seth, added, “And to this good-looking young man.”

Seth giggled along with Esther, and Angela was tempted to join them as her head was giddy with happiness when Justin stood and gave her his warm smile. She offered her hand, and he bowed over it before pressing his lips to it. He did not release it as he bowed over Leonia’s hand, too.

“Good morning, Lord Harrington,” she said coolly.

Justin arched a single brow at Angela, but she could not say anything without embarrassing Leonia.

She wished she had said something—anything—to end this conversation when she saw Leonia’s eyes glow with delight at the same moment that Justin’s became emerald slits. Turning, she saw the duke standing behind her.

His frown could not lessen the strange color of his face, which was far too ashen. “Harrington.”

“Oslington.” Justin’s clipped tone matched the duke’s.

“Children, I think you should come with me.” The duke started to turn his back on Justin, but he did not have a chance to walk away before Lord Milborough pushed through the crowd of guests.

The groom was not tall or well-favored, but he had a kind smile. He put one arm around Justin’s shoulders and the other over the duke’s. “I am so glad that both of you came to Milborough Manor for my wedding.” His jovial laugh suggested he had already enjoyed several servings of the wines being offered along with breakfast. “Just like it was when we were as young as these children here. The three of us looking for all sorts of trouble.”

“Yes,” the duke said, his jaw still taut.

“And now you are married, old chap,” Justin added. He was not going to let Oslington’s low spirits ruin his good time at this wedding.

“When are you two going to walk down to the altar yourselves?” Milborough asked. He jabbed Oslington with his elbow. “Now that you are home and have that grand title, it is time for you to find a pretty lass and put an end to speculation. Why not one of these young ladies?”

Justin did not expect the stab of anger that sliced into him as Oslington glanced at Angela. When the duke looked back at him, Oslington wore a superior smile on his oddly pasty face.

“Something to consider,” Oslington said with a chuckle.

Angela colored prettily. She put her arm around Leonia’s waist as she said, “I will remind you, gentlemen, that a lady’s heart is not won by being stared at like a mare at market.”

Milborough crowed with laughter before steering Oslington and Justin through the guests to meet his bride. Justin tried to avoid being dragged along by giving an excuse about needing to speak with Thomas, but Milborough refused to listen. Oslington looked daggers at him. Justin ignored him as he had so often in the past five years after his attempt at reconciliation was thrown back in his face.

More than a half-dozen times, as the wedding breakfast unfolded, Justin saw Thomas trying to get his attention. He motioned for the boy to have patience. Before he could leave with Thomas to scour the garden for interesting butterflies, he wanted to find out if Angela had any plans for the afternoon, because he could imagine nothing more delightful than spending it with her in some quiet bower deep in the gardens.

Every effort he made to speak with her was stymied by one of the guests. Because he had not been to Town in more than two years, many of them were curious about what he had been doing and any gossip he might have heard in the country. He kept his face from disclosing his growing aggravation when he was asked over and over if, as Oslington’s neighbor, he knew about Miss Needham. The supposition was that she must be the duke’s mistress, an arrangement given countenance by her so-called position as companion for his ward.

Finally, more than two hours later, he saw Angela by one of the doors to the gardens. He went to her and took her arm and led her, rather unceremoniously, out onto the terrace.

“Take care,” she said.

“Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, a phantom of a smile hovering on her lips. “You might damage your reputation, Justin, by being seen with your neighbor’s convenient.”

“You heard, too?”

“How could I help it?” She amazed him when she laughed.

“I am surprised you find this gossip amusing.”

“I don’t, and I sent Leonia upstairs, ostensibly to rest, so she does not hear it.”

He rested his elbow on the stones of the house, but let his fingers linger along her arm. “Are you certain you don’t want to use this as a lesson for her?”

“She will learn soon enough how poker-talk follows one, whether it is true or not.” She paused as cheers came from inside.

Justin looked back through the door. Glasses were being raised in a toast to Milborough and his bride.

“Are you thinking of the day when you married Delicia’s mother?” Angela asked.

He must have betrayed himself in some way, but he would not lie to her … about this. “I doubt anyone forgets one’s wedding celebration.”

“What was her name?”

“Elizabeth. Elizabeth White.”

“You must have loved her very much.”

“On the day I married her, I loved her with every ounce of my being.” He faced her and took a slow breath. “I have not said that to anyone in a very long time.”

“Does Delicia know?”

Justin recoiled at her question. “How would I know what she might be aware of?”

“Esther seems to understand Delicia very well. When we return to Oslington Court and I can arrange for the children to have a chance to play together again, you shall see.”

He drew his arm from beneath her hand. “That is a matter I had hoped not to speak to you about today.”

“Why not?”

“I did not wish to distress you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Distress me? How?”

How had the conversation taken this turn? It was too late to backtrack now. “I do not think that playing with the other children is a good idea.”

“Why not? She has had a wonderful time when we were at your house.”

“She has had a wonderful time, but she cannot truly be part of their play.”

“You are quite wrong.” Taking his hands, she looked up at him, her face lit well by the sunshine, her hair a golden aura around it.