Forbidden Angel (11 page)

Adrian pumped against her a few more times, then shuddered and stilled, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Moments later he stirred, disengaged himself, and lowered her feet into the water. Then, with her hands on his shoulders to steady her, he knelt and tenderly washed the traces of blood from between her thighs. She felt herself flush at the intimate attention.

Water sparkled off his hair and she ran her fingers through the light strands. Raising his head, he met her gaze.

When, hand-in-hand, they walked from the pond, Adrian bent and retrieved his shirt and slipped it around her shoulders, then spread her skirt on the grass for her to sit on. Without a word, he pulled on his drawers and trousers and looked out over the water.

“Adrian?” She reached out a hand for his. He took her palm and squatted down beside her on the grass.

Suddenly uncertain, she questioned, “What is it?”

He bent his head and stared at the ground in front of them. “I should never have touched you.”

A chill slid up her spine. “Do you regret—”

“God, no.” His head jerked up.

“Then I don’t understand.” She slid her hand from his.

“I wanted to show you what it could be like if we wed.”

A rush of anger filled her. Where she’d felt joy, she now felt only betrayal. “Are you telling me this to lessen your guilt? You hide behind your moral code when it suits you and toss it aside when it’s inconvenient. Well, my lord, I understand things far better than you.
I
feel no guilt over lying with you. I openly admit to wanting you.”

She jumped to her feet and pulled on her clothes. “This changes nothing, Adrian. If you thought it would, you’re wrong. And,”—she whirled to face him—“you might wish to examine why you haven’t returned to England. The man I knew, or thought I knew, would not shirk his responsibility simply because—because—”

“Go on,” he ground out, dragging on the rest of his clothing.

“You are a coward, Adrian Spencer.”

“What?” He frowned. “How can you say that?”

“You were hurt that those around you took a moment to do what most would do, and look at you questioningly. But you couldn’t see they weren’t accusing you, but were only concerned for you. And then you came here, away from those who hadn’t lived up to your
high moral
standards,
and proceeded to re-create Spencer House, and that life, here. Well, my lord, how should I look at you now? Tell me, and I will try not to disappoint you.”

Angeline spun on her heel and marched toward Shahid. Slipping the bridle over the horse’s head, she found a stump and mounted.

Adrian started toward her. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done long before this. I’m going home.” Angeline wheeled Shahid in an arc and dug her heels into his side. The horse bounded forward. Vaguely aware of Adrian’s shout to wait, she urged the stallion on.

Giving her virginity to Adrian was something she would never regret, but she would not compound the error by marrying him. She was a fool to have trusted him.

Later, when Angeline left her room to go downstairs, she heard men’s voices raised in anger. Following the sound, she approached the library door and stopped to listen.

“Damn it, Adrian, she deserved better than a quick tumble,” Michael shouted.

“It wasn’t like that,” Adrian retorted.

“No? Do you love her?”

“That has nothing to do with it. I didn’t seduce her for love but for her protection.”

She heard the sound of a man’s fist hitting skin. Adrian landed on the floor in front of the partially open door.

Adrian rubbed his jaw. “I deserved that, Michael, but don’t do it again,” he warned, coming to his feet.

She gasped and backed away from the door—and into a hall table sending the delicate porcelain vase crashing to the floor, the sound echoing through the silence.

Lifting the hem of her skirts, she whirled and ran toward the stairs. Behind her, she heard Adrian shout her name, and the sound of his boots as he came after her. He caught her in the front hall and redirected her into the drawing room.

Angeline jerked her arm away and glared at him. “Do not touch me again.”

“Let me explain.” Adrian reached for her, but when she drew back, he stiffened and dropped his arms to his side.

He watched her chin rise, a gesture he had come to recognize. She was angry and hurt, he knew, but it wasn’t as it had sounded.

“I will hear nothing from you,” she fairly spat at him.

Adrian planted himself before her, his gaze locked with hers. “You
will
hear this. We shall marry within the week.”

Angeline stepped almost toe-to-toe with him. “No. We. Will. Not. You have no right to make that kind of a decision for me. If you think that because we, we—”

“Made love? Say it, Angeline. We made love.”

“No, Adrian.
I
made love.
You
did not. What is the word for what
you
did? Let me see. Swived? Tupped?”

He flinched, feeling the impact of those words. “It was not like that.
You
are not like that. I meant what I said, Angeline. I adore you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I do not believe that, or anything else you say.”

“You may well believe this. You will be my wife.”

He realized his mistake when she shrieked in anger and flung herself at him. Caught off guard, he took the full force of her body as her fists pummeled him. Adrian clamped his hands around her wrists and held them against his chest.

“You are no different than Charles Malcolm,” she railed. “You will use whatever means at your disposal to get what you want.”

Adrian’s grip tightened as his anger built. “I am nothing like him!”

“No?” She lifted her face to his. “He might break my bones, perhaps even kill me, but you, Adrian, have broken my heart. To me, that is far worse.”

Regret slammed through him, but he couldn’t stop now. Whatever she thought of him, he would bear if he kept her safe.

“The fact remains that I did lay with you. Even now you may be with child. My child,” Adrian stated with quiet emphasis.

Angeline paled and jerked her hands away. “In time, I will forget what passed between us and forget about you. I will find a man of my choosing to love, or not, but it will be
my
decision to make.”

“No longer. You need the protection of my name, and I need an heir.”

Angeline held up a staying hand.

His anger flared hotter, but Adrian schooled his features. “If you cannot tolerate my company, there is much to keep me busy throughout the day. But I will come to you nightly until I have sired a son on you. After that, I will set you up in a house of your choosing in England and settle a large sum of money on you to keep you in comfort for the rest of your days. You shall want for nothing. I will provide you with servants, a carriage, jewelry, and will not bother you again.”

The spark had gone from her eyes and, if possible, she had paled further. He’d hurt her and he hated himself for doing so. But fear for her safety had left him almost frantic.

After what seemed an eternity, she lifted her face. “You have taken my choices from me and have determined to use my body. In exchange, you have offered
things
. You have made a whore of me, Adrian, and you seem not to realize it.”

She sighed and seemed to look through him. “Very well, my lord, it will be as you say.”

Oh, God.
His throat constricted and he swallowed. “It is agreed, then, my lady. I will have settlement papers drawn up stating what I have promised. Your dowry and anything else that you now possess will remain yours.” He watched her. “There is one more thing. When, or if, you choose to leave me, you will not take my child with you. Do you understand?”

She staggered. “Adrian—”

“Do you?” he demanded.

“Yes.”

Adrian bowed stiffly and walked from the room. She’d seen a side of him Angeline had never seen nor even believed existed. With trembling hands, she reached for the edge of the settee and sank onto it.

He was not her knight in shining armor as she had once imagined him. She’d seen him through her heart’s eyes, but she no longer trusted her heart. She covered her face with her hands and wept.

The door opened and closed. Virginia quietly joined her on the settee. “I am so very sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“How did we came to this? I have always wanted . . . but not like this.” Angeline’s voice broke on a sob.

“Men can be so foolish,” Virginia said softly.

“No. I was the foolish one. I believed he might return my regard. I said as much not long after he returned, and he told me then that he did not. But I had hope.”

She glanced at Virginia and saw sadness reflected in her eyes.

Angeline straightened and brushed the tears from her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. I have said I would marry him.”

Adrian paced before the large desk in his library. He felt wretched. He had behaved abominably, and Angeline had every reason to hate him. But the vivid image of holding her dying body to his chest as her life’s blood drained from her, watching those luminous eyes dull as she left him, was beyond his ability to endure.

When she’d accused him of making a whore of her, he’d felt the blow to his bones. He’d said he adored her, and it was the truth. He always had. She had trusted him and he had betrayed that trust. He’d known she didn’t have the skills with which to fight him, and he’d used her passion against her. He felt like the vilest of men.

Although he’d not forced her, he had awakened that passion and made her yearn for sexual fulfillment, bringing her to completion by taking her innocence. If the price for her safety was her hatred of him, he would pay it. He would pay anything.

Adrian picked up the decanter on his desk and sent it crashing against the hearth. The fragile glass shattered into pieces.

A whore, she had said. Nothing could be further from the truth. When he’d entered her, he’d been shocked by the surge of emotion he’d felt. Although determined to give her pleasure, he’d found something he’d not thought to find—a feeling like nothing he’d ever known. A feeling of completeness, of coming home. She was his, now and forever, and he would not, could not, lose her.

A tap on the door stopped his pacing. Joel strode in. He regarded Adrian silently, recrimination riding in his eyes.

“You don’t approve, do you?”

Joel shook his head. “Not of your methods, no, but I do realize why you did it. Did you talk to her, explain—”

“She didn’t give me a chance before she refused me. She stated again that she planned to leave and return to England. I could not let her go. We both know what Charles would do to her, given the chance.”

Joel’s keen gaze studied him. “Is that the only reason?”

He gave an impatient shrug. “What other reason could there be?”

“I have never considered you a fool, Adrian, but you are about to commit a most foolish mistake.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Adrian glared at his brother-in-law.

“That is for you to decide,” Joel retorted as he left the room.

Angeline watched as Shirley withdrew dress after dress from the wardrobe. “It doesn’t matter what I wear, Shirley, I just need to be presentable.”

“Nonsense. A lady wants to look her best on her wedding day, no matter the circumstances.” She tugged a dress from the back of the wardrobe. “This also belonged to your mother.”

Shirley held up a cream-colored gown with an overdress of Spanish lace. Tiny seed pearls covered the bodice, made to fit snugly from just under her breasts to the top of the hips, where the material flared slightly.

“Come, miss, try this on,” Shirley insisted.

Obediently, Angeline rose. Shirley slipped the cream silk over her head and followed with the overdress of Spanish lace.

Angeline stared at her reflection in the mirror. A beautiful gown, meant for a bride celebrating her happiest day. She felt like crying.

Her gaze dropped to the skirt. “Do you see the design? The same as on the locket.” Angeline traced the raised surface with a finger. “What does the letter ‘C’ stand for, Shirley?” She had no doubt but that Shirley knew.

“Cordova. Your mother’s name was Franchesca Elaina Cordova.”

“Cordova?” She thought again of her father’s letter. “Why was this kept from me?”

Shirley helped Angeline out of the dress and into a silk wrapper. “We were sworn to secrecy, my lady,” she answered sadly. “But with both of them gone, we felt it was your right to know.”

“I see.” But she didn’t, not really.

At a tap on the door, Shirley answered it. Adrian waited in the doorway.

“I would have a word with your mistress.” He stepped inside the room.

Shirley glanced at Angeline and, at her nod, left the room, pointedly leaving the door ajar.

Angeline noted his set expression.

“I’ve decided to return to England. I don’t know how long I’ll be away, but you’ll be well cared for in my absence. I’ll put you in touch with my man of business here, but should you need anything, anything at all, you may also ask Joel.” His gaze swept over her. Stress rode Adrian’s taut features, his body stiff with tension.

“And when do you plan to leave?” Angeline’s tone was glacial. “Before or after the wedding?”

“After.” He looked pointedly at her, slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. “You were right. It is past time I take up my responsibilities there, and you will be free of my presence for some time. When I return, perhaps we can talk.”

He withdrew a velvet box from his inside pocket and handed the case to her.

Opening the jewelry container, she found a large, perfectly cut emerald surrounded by diamonds. An exquisite piece. When she raised her gaze to him, he seemed almost nervous.

“This ring has been in my family for generations. Every Lady Windsford has worn it. As my countess, this ring now belongs to you.”

“Adrian . . .”

“If you would prefer, I will have a different one made for you.”

Angeline blinked. She looked from the ring to Adrian. “It is the loveliest ring I have ever seen, but are you certain you wish for me to wear it?” She ran her finger over the stone.

He stepped to her side and took the box from her hand, removing the ring. “It would honor me if you would wear it.” He lifted her left hand and slid the ring in place, then kissed her finger where the emerald lay.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Do not
my lord
me. My name is Adrian, just as it has been,” he said gently.

“If that is your wish . . . Adrian.”

“It is.” He pivoted to leave.

Angeline made a quick decision. “Adrian, I need to discuss something with you.”

He faced her again, one brow lifted in question.

“Will you sit for a moment, please?”

He sat in the chair rather than on the bed beside her, while she explained the mystery surrounding her mother and herself.

“I have to discover why they decided to keep something this important from me, and what else I don’t have knowledge of. Perhaps there’s family somewhere that knows nothing of me. Will you let me go with you?”

“It would seem we both have reasons to return to England. Perhaps we will find our answers together.”

The days before the wedding passed rapidly. Malcolm had not shown himself, but they knew it was only a matter of time before he did.

The ship taking them back to England would leave New York within three weeks, and there were preparations to be made beforehand. Adrian added a private rail car to the train that would carry them to New York in some anonymity. Shirley insisted on traveling with Angeline and shortly thereafter Frank stated his decision to go as well.

Although Michael agreed to accompany them to England, he declined the invitation to the wedding.

Angeline sat straight-backed in front of her dresser mirror while Shirley brushed out her long hair. She was about to commit her life to Adrian Spencer. What should have been the happiest day of her life was instead a travesty. She would vow to love, honor, and obey in a relationship that was only about ‘obey.’

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“It will be all right, miss. You’ll see.” Shirley patted Angeline’s hand.

“I do not know how.”

Shirley brushed and then braided Angeline’s long hair. Twisting a string of pearls through the black tresses, she looped the plait around Angeline’s head like a coronet.

“There you are, my lady.” Shirley stepped back and viewed her with satisfaction.