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Authors: Sandra Lea Rice

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BOOK: Forbidden Angel
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“It will when I explain. Legitimate or not, you are a distant relative to Her Royal Majesty, Queen Victoria. More precisely, your grandmother,
Dona
Maria Elaina Cordova, is a distant cousin, which of course . . .” Edward stopped at the stunned expressions on everyone’s faces.

He rushed to explain. “Sir Malcolm would want that connection to the Crown and the recognition such an association would give him with the aristocracy.”

With steady regard, Angeline held Edward’s attention. “That’s as may be, but am I legally Adrian’s wife?”

Edward appeared distressed. “I would say you are not.”

Penelope came to her feet in a rustle of silk and waving hands. “Oh, stuff and nonsense. Of course they are married. I will not listen to all this talk about some vile man separating them. Anyone can see how such speculation is upsetting her.” She gestured in Angeline’s direction.

When Adrian moved toward Penelope, she warned him off with a brisk shake of her head. As she stepped into the light from the window, her red hair, along with her temper, seemed to catch fire.

She folded her arms over her chest and gave an inelegant little snort. “There is still one very important thing you all seem to have forgotten. This is 1880, and he simply cannot drag her before a cleric and force her to say the words.”

Penelope began to pace. “I’m assuming we are all intelligent people, so surely we can find a way to stop his bullying. Find the proof of his guilt in the death of Pricilla, or take him to a dark alley and shoot him. Drop him into the Thames if you must, but this needs to stop.” She stopped pacing and scowled at everyone.

“Bloodthirsty minx,” Michael whispered to Adrian.

Jeffrey gaped in horror at his daughter and dropped into a nearby chair. “Penelope, for God’s sake. Think about what you’re suggesting.”

“I’m only suggesting what is written clearly on their faces, Papa.” Penelope gestured toward the room at large.

Adrian caught their expressions and realized his likely held a similar one.

Angeline approached Penelope. “Although I can appreciate what you’re saying, and certainly the thought has crossed my mind on many occasions, I will not have these men ruin their lives by killing him. He’s not worth it.”

She moved to face Adrian. “No, he cannot drag me in front of a cleric and force me to marry him, but he can, and will, ruin my family’s name and my brother’s future. I do not see I have a choice.”

“That will never happen, Lady Windsford.” Adrian afforded his wife her rightful title. “Mr. Thornby,” his gaze found Edward. “I thank you for your hard work. Now, you must discover what is needed for us to marry legally. It would be, perhaps, the most important thing you could do.”

Adrian placed his hand on Angeline’s waist. “I am her legal guardian by William’s own hand. Although it would be looked upon with disfavor, if need be, I could use that to obtain a special license. Offer Malcolm twice the amount in exchange for the note and guarantee signed by my sister. I won’t have James’ future damaged by Elizabeth’s foolish act.”

“I will look into all of it, my lord, but there are two more things you should know,” Edward began.

Adrian turned slowly to face the little man. “And what might that be?”

“Besides the royal ties, the Cordova family is one of the strongest in Spain. They have many land holdings, some even in America. They are influential both in Spain and here and are reportedly extremely wealthy. Plus,
Don
Fernando, who rules the family, has recently become quite ill.
Dona
Maria Elaina is still living.”

Adrian tipped his head back and sighed. “No wonder the name sounded so familiar.” His gaze held those of Frank and Michael. “Cordova Mines in America.”

The two men stared at each other, then at Adrian.

“Well, if that don’t beat all. With all that money and power it would sure explain why Malcolm’s so determined.” Frank rubbed his whiskered chin. “He’s a damn fool, though. If we don’t kill him first, they will when they find out what he’s done.”

“And he will not take the money in exchange. Not when the prize is this great.” Adrian felt the muscles in his jaw tighten as he accepted the certainty.

Edward Thornby departed, feeling quite proud of his accomplishments. For the first time he’d been made aware that people, and their feelings, could be greatly affected by the legalities he worked with every day. Retained by the Ashley family before Angeline was born, he had an uncle-like affinity for her. It upset him to see the results of his work upset her the way it had. She always remembered the little things, like the honey he loved for his tea.

A simple man, Edward did not require much. The fact that he was considered quite brilliant at law made him feel important. Lord Harvey had noticed him and had quickly placed him on a handsome retainer. Lord William had continued it, and now, Edward had earned the trust of Lord Windsford. One family had made his life quite comfortable, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them.

The entire problem could be cleared up quite nicely if the Cordova family would recognize Lady Angeline as their granddaughter and sanction her marriage to Lord Windsford.

Having decided on what course he would pursue, Edward grinned. And if Malcolm were to be found guilty, his claim and the debt would be dismissed. Yes indeed, this might work out well. Life was good, very good indeed.

Chapter 25

Later that evening, Angeline found Penelope ensconced in the padded window seat reading a book of sonnets. Penelope glanced up as she approached.

“This must be so difficult for you.” Penelope scooted sideways and patted the spot beside her.

Angeline gratefully accepted the proffered seat. “From the moment my father was hurt, nothing has been the same. In these months since his death, I have seen and done things I never imagined I would.”

Penelope closed the book and eyed Angeline. “Do you love Adrian?”

Although surprised by the abrupt question, Angeline didn’t hesitate. “I have always loved him, but he has said he does not love me.”

“I think you’re mistaken. I know my cousin, and I believe he loves you very much. Give Adrian time to discover what his feelings truly are, and to accept them.”

Penelope’s gaze dropped to her hands. “I also know that Michael is in love with you.” Her eyes lifted, caught Angeline’s, a touch of sadness in her expression.

When Angeline started to protest, Penelope stopped her. “I believe I could make him happy if given the chance, and would make a very good wife for him.”

Angeline considered what she knew of Michael. “How can you be certain when you have only just met? Michael is a wonderful man and a true friend. I hope for nothing less than that he find love and happiness. Why do you feel you can give him that?”

“When he took my hand, my heart knew.”

Angeline found no argument with that, for she felt the same when Adrian was anywhere near.

They were still chatting when the men returned. Jeffrey peered out the window. “I should probably start back while it’s still light.”

“There’s no need, Uncle,” Adrian objected. “I’ll have another room made ready and inform Cook we have an extra guest.”

“I must say I am more than happy to accept,” Jeffrey admitted.

After dinner, logs were added to the fire in the drawing room and the lamps were trimmed and lit. Sitting near the hearth, Angeline had a clear view of Adrian. His preoccupation was easy to see.

“What are you thinking, Adrian?” Angeline inquired.

“I plan on visiting Windsford on the morrow, and, if you’re still willing, take you to see Ashley Manor.” Adrian sent her a questioning glance.

Angeline inclined her head. “I would like that.”

Frank spoke up. “I’m goin’ with ya, Boss. I ain’t lettin’ the two of you out ta my sight.”

“So am I.” From Michael.

“I would love to go along. I have never seen Ashley Manor though I have visited Windsford quite often with Papa,” Penelope added.

Jeffrey raised a brow in acceptance. “I would say we’re all going, then.”

“Hopefully, it will be an uneventful trip,” Adrian muttered.

Angeline rose from her chair. “If you will excuse me, I’m a little tired and tomorrow promises to be a long day.” She sent Adrian a meaningful look. He quickly excused himself to follow her upstairs.

Michael stood before the fire and watched the others retire for the night.

“Are you coming, my dear?” Jeffrey asked, with a pointed look toward Michael.

“I’ll be up shortly, Papa. I want to find another book to take with me.”

Moving to her side, Michael tried to see the title of the book Penelope held in her hand.

“What are you currently reading?”

“A book of sonnets by Robert Browning.” Her cheeks bloomed charmingly. “I’m a romantic at heart, but I do enjoy Jules Verne and some others.”

“You’ve read Jules Verne?” he asked, surprised at her choice.

“Oh, yes. I don’t expect what he writes will come about, but it’s most interesting.”

“You might be surprised to learn that in a lesser version, some of it already has.”

“Oh, please tell me.” Penelope laid the book on the table and retook her seat.

He grinned at her enthusiasm and sank onto the window seat beside her. Determined to entertain her, he tried to recall what he’d seen.

“During our Civil War in America, the South had boats capable of traveling underwater. They were not very big and couldn’t stay below for long without surfacing for air, unlike Jules Verne’s.” Michael searched her face as he spoke, sensing her interest was sincere. He’d happily continue, if only to see her eyes widen and sparkle in the lamplight.

“Would you tell me more about yourself and how you came to meet Adrian?”

Michael nodded and settled more comfortably. “I’ve known Adrian for ten years now. One night after leaving an, uh, establishment, I was confronted by a group of men who took offense with my uniform. They were about to assault me when a man stepped from the shadows and placed himself at my back.” Michael chuckled at the memory. “He told them, ‘You’re going to need more men to get this done.’ Within a matter of minutes it was over. The ones still able to move ran off. We’ve been friends since then.”

Penelope laughed, a light, tinkling sound. “That sounds like Adrian.” She regarded him curiously. “Have you been in the Army for a long time?”

“For half my life, though I’m not strictly a soldier. I arrange treaties and the like. I suppose I’ll have to decide soon about leaving or not. Adrian has asked me on several occasions to work with him.”

“Will you?”

“I’m considering it. I find I want the simpler things. A wife, children. And I want to be able to enjoy them. The Army takes much of my time.”

He had no idea why he’d told her this. “It’s late, I shouldn’t keep you.”

“Thank you for sharing with me. I believe your desire to have a family is quite admirable.”

Their eyes met.

Adrian observed Angeline from the corner of his eye as they climbed the stairs to their bedchamber. She was unusually quiet, refusing to look at him. Perhaps he’d misread her meaning. “Angeline, what is it?”

As they crossed the threshold of their bedchamber, she raised a tear-stained face to him. His chest tightened.

“Adrian, you must hear me out before you speak. I’ve thought of little else since we learned our marriage is not legal.”

When he started to protest, she laid a finger against his lips. “I’m fairly certain I’m with child. My courses have not come and they are always on time. And now, I’m sick in the mornings.”

He blinked, struggled to take in what she’d told him.

Angeline twined her fingers with his and drew him to the settee. Still holding his hand, she entreated, “You must let me go. Your heir needs a mother who is above reproach and it would seem that I cannot even claim to be my father’s legitimate daughter. At some point others will learn the truth, and both you and our child will be hurt by it. I can live at Ashley Manor and raise the babe there.”

Adrian’s head spun. A child, there was to be a child. Their child. He was to be a father.

Warmth rushed through him and his throat constricted at the thought. A torrent of different emotions filled him; excitement, gratitude, thankfulness for the woman who was to be its mother. And love, for a tiny, unborn being. Yet he would be horrified should the others know of his feelings.

Still, he held her hands in his and spoke what he knew to be true.

“My sweet Angel, it makes no difference to me what may or may not be true. Before God you are my wife, and when this is over you shall be before man, as well.” He kissed her hands. “Son or daughter, this child will grow up knowing that it is loved and wanted by both parents. Do not lose faith in me—in us—so easily.”

“Adrian, you mustn’t say these things without first consid—”

He pressed his fingers to her mouth to silence her. “Listen to me. We will deal with each problem as they arise. You are the mother of my child and I would never turn my back on you.”

As the light faded from her eyes, Adrian cupped her chin in his hand and raised her face to his. “What happened just now? What did I say to upset you?”

“Only what you meant.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she closed her eyes.

Adrian pulled her against him and cradled her in his arms. “Oh, God, Angel. I misspoke. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

She opened her eyes and traced his jaw with her fingertips. “It’s all right, Adrian.” Her face had paled. “I really do understand, and I accept it.”

Adrian brought her to her feet. She didn’t understand, but he would find a way to show her. “Come to bed.”

He moved behind her to undo the buttons at her back. “I shall act as maid tonight.”

She stepped out of her gown and petticoats, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Her corset followed. Clad only in her chemise and drawers, Adrian scooped her up in his arms and deposited her on the bed. He quickly shed his clothes and joined her, pulled the heavy quilt over them, and reached for her. She snuggled against his side, soft, warm, and so very dear.

Adrian stroked her back. “There’s something else bothering you. What is it?”

He covered her hand as it lay on his chest, and found it fisted. When she trembled, he pulled back to see her face. “Tell me.”

She lifted on an elbow and stared into his face. “I am so very angry. I have absolutely no control over my own life, none whatsoever. Those I’ve trusted have conspired to deceive me.”

Adrian levered them up and leaned back against the headboard, Angeline against his side, determined to remain quiet and let her speak.

“I was young when my mother died, but there was more than enough time for her to have shared some of this with me.” When she tilted her head to look at him, he nodded in agreement.

“My father would not have felt it proper to tell me that I was illegitimate, that he and my mother weren’t truly married. But he committed the crime of
snatching
my mother away from her family, apparently without concern for the consequences.” She thumped the bed with her fist.

“And my mother’s family? Since when is one disowned for disobedience?” She uttered a disdainful huff that sounded more like a growl.

Adrian schooled his features to keep from smiling. He found her adorable when angry, as long as that anger was not directed at him.

“Why keep this information from me? Why swear all these others to secrecy? It makes no sense, and I am sorely tired of the whole thing.” She caught a pillow in her hand and threw it. “It’s my life. I had the right to—to—” Her voice broke on a sob.

Adrian lost all desire to smile. Pulling her to him, he tucked her head against his shoulder, then kissed her forehead and temple. “I don’t understand either, sweetheart, but perhaps with more information, we will.”

He slowly, gently, ran his hand up and down her arm and felt the tension leave her.

“Women have a hard time of it. Men make decisions and withhold information, all in the name of protection, then expect the women in our care to accept our choices without question. If my choices were taken from me, I wouldn’t care for it, either.” He stroked her silken hair. “But you must know, if I deem it necessary, I will most likely do it again.”

His hand glided over her belly. “Angeline, are you unhappy about the child?”

Her head popped up. “No, don’t ever think that. I may be angry with you about some things but I have never once denied loving you. Having your baby is—I just wish . . .” Her voice trailed off.

I know what you wish.

“You need to rest, sweetheart.” Adrian closed his eyes, taking comfort in the nearness of her soft, warm body as he held her close. To win back her love and trust, he would have to prove himself worthy. As he took solace in the fact she was still with him, he wondered how one went about healing a broken heart.

He murmured, “I should have let you go when you first asked, but I could not. Keeping you was selfish of me, I know. And now, if you left me . . . better you just tear my heart out and be done with it,” he whispered into the darkness. But Angeline was already asleep.

Almost twelve years had passed since Adrian had lived at Windsford Hall. Although he loved Spencer Ranch and the life he’d made for himself, he also missed his family home.

Over nine generations had lived and cared for the large, sprawling estate. The Hall’s construction began in the late 1600s and every brick and stone had been lovingly cared for by his family since then. The future of that family now weighed heavily on Adrian’s shoulders.

When the coach turned into the well-tended lane, a towering expanse of gray stone rose into view. In the morning sun, which had managed to poke through the gathering clouds, the Palladian mansion seemed rooted to the earth below. A domed and pillared portico stood at the front, overlooking marble steps leading up to the large, main door.

As the coach circled the drive, Adrian viewed the well-tended vistas, noted how much the trees and shrubs had grown. Some would top his height, and he remembered when they were planted. His gaze focused on a wide, flat terrace surrounded by a stone balustrade. Steps descended to large, ornamental gardens below, now unadorned in winter. Everything else looked much the same as when he’d left. A sense of homecoming filled him.

As his gaze rested on the stable block, he did a quick calculation as to what might still remain of the much revered Windsford horses.

“It’s lovely, Adrian,” Angeline murmured, leaning out to better see the elegant, four-story structure.

After the coach came to a rocking halt, Jeffrey’s footman opened the door and let down the steps. Adrian helped Angeline alight and the others followed.

BOOK: Forbidden Angel
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