Forbidden Angel (5 page)

Angeline followed Virginia through the front door and stopped, eyes widening. Just as with the outside, the inside of the house was a surprise.

The front hall of buff and white tile backed up to a wide, double staircase. On the second floor landing was a gallery filled with portraits. From there, hallways extended in two directions.

On the main floor, her gaze shifted left to the drawing room, which could easily accommodate a large number of guests. A massive fireplace filled most of the wall at the far end of the room. Upon closer observation, it was evident the stones were chosen carefully for their color. Settees covered in honey-colored leather were placed in groupings around the room.

Large Aubusson carpets partially covered the wide plank floors. One such rug sat between two settees in front of the fireplace.

Tables, simple in design, lent themselves to the ambiance of the room. The tops were made from large slices of pine and glowed with layers of wax painstakingly rubbed into the wood. Each table held a lamp.

Virginia’s touch was quite evident in the placement of framed miniature portraits and vases of flowers from the garden.

The walls were plastered and painted and Angeline was struck by just how much the interior of this ‘ranch house’ reminded her of the homes in England.

“This is the dining room.” Virginia indicated the room to the right of the staircase.

A long table, able to seat twenty if the leaves were added, sat in the middle. Also made of pine, the color had been darkened to deep amber. Chairs were positioned down both sides and at each end, the seats covered in dark gold damask. Crystal candelabras graced each end of a buffet table which ran the entire length of one wall. On the opposite wall, another stone fireplace would provide heat to the room. More crystal vases, filled with flowers, decorated the mantle.

Obviously proud of the lovely home, Virginia chattered on. “There is a morning room which I will show you later, and a sitting room off the gallery upstairs.”

Down a long hallway, Angeline could see a green baize door, behind which would be the kitchens and the rooms where the staff worked. She could smell the delicious aroma of food cooking and realized she was hungry.

A woman wearing a light blue cotton dress and white apron approached. Her graying hair was secured neatly under a white cap. “Welcome home, Madam.” She smiled at Virginia. “And this must be Master James.” The nanny gave him a warm smile and bent down. “There’s someone up in the playroom waiting to meet you.”

Jimmy bounced with excitement. “May we go up now?”

“Yes, indeed.” She regarded Angeline. “Welcome, my lady. We’ll take good care of the two of you, now don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.”

Angeline could only smile and nod.

“Thank you, Mrs. Winters. Would you please show Mrs. Whitaker and James up to the nursery wing?” Virginia dropped her gloves and reticule on a table on one side of the entry.

“Yes, ma’am.” She nodded and led Shirley and James upstairs.

Virginia smiled brightly at Angeline. “Would you like to see your room?”

“I would love to.” Angeline glanced around again. “This is a beautiful residence. I must admit to being surprised. It’s somewhat reminiscent of those in England.”

“I am fairly certain Adrian had Spencer House in mind when he built this.”

Angeline’s gaze traveled once more over the rooms. “I’m truly amazed at all he’s accomplished in . . . ten years?”

“Yes. Even in England, my brother was recognized as gifted when it came to investments and politics, accomplishing whatever he set out to do. Our father was so proud of him and the way much older men would seek his advice. But here, he seems almost driven. If he decides on something, he won’t stop until it’s done. Adrian is truly a force unto himself.”

Angeline shivered. Was he still the man she’d known in England, or had circumstances changed him? Perhaps she’d never really known him, only just her impression of him.

Virginia led the way upstairs. “The nursery, playroom and rooms for the nurses and some of the maids are on the third floor, much as they are in England. There is a back staircase that leads down to the kitchen.”

Angeline had noticed the stables off to the left as they’d driven down the lane. The back stairs would be useful when she left the house for her early morning rides.

With a wave of her hand, Virginia motioned to the right as they reached the gallery. “That is Adrian’s wing. His bedchamber, along with the library and study is down there.”

Angeline took a brief glance down the hall, then had to hurry to keep up with Virginia.

“Joel’s and my rooms are down closer to the stairs leading to the nursery.”

She stopped and indicated a room decorated in cream and pale blue. “This is the sitting room.”

Angeline caught a glimpse of two tall windows with draperies in deep blue velvet.

They continued around a circling hallway leading to the front of the house. Virginia opened another door, and moved aside. “I hope you like it.”

Angeline entered the room she would use while at the ranch. Windows faced the front gardens. French doors stood open to the balcony, letting in a profusion of light and rich scents.

French white oak furniture, the legs of the tables intricately carved, matched the bedstead with its elaborate scrollwork of flowers. A cheval mirror sat in one corner near a dresser. The swiveled frame was carved in the same floral pattern. An armoire was positioned against one wall, with a clothes press for her personals beside it. The large room had obviously been decorated with a woman in mind.

“This is truly lovely.” Angeline revolved slowly.

“I’m glad you approve. Adrian said you liked roses and chose these pieces himself.”

Surprised, she was warmed by the thought. “I do, indeed.”

She continued to gaze around, noting the pale-gold draperies and counterpane with embossed roses. A large hand-woven carpet in gold and shades of yellow covered the center of the floor. Angeline ran her hand across the back of a chair positioned near the French doors, offering a view of the gardens. A fireplace sat in the corner and would keep the chill off in the winter.

“I think you will like this.” Virginia opened a door to a water closet, complete with washbasin.

“Oh, how wonderful.”

“I’m afraid there won’t be time for a proper bath before dinner, but I promise you shall have one afterwards. Come, let me show you something.” Virginia moved to a door at the side of the room to reveal a copper slipper tub.

Angeline ran her fingers along the smooth surface and sighed. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You’ll find soap and large bath towels in the cupboard. I have a tub in my room as well. Once in a while, a good, deep soak feels wonderful and for that, we have a bathing chamber with a large tub just off the kitchen. When you’re ready, just tell the maids and they will see it’s filled.”

“Is water carried all the way up here?”

“Oh, no, dear. Adrian had a manual dumbwaiter installed when the house was built. The waiter works on pulleys and is quite efficient. After the water is heated in the kitchen, the pails are brought up by the dumbwaiter and the maids carry it from there.”

Angeline could have purred in approval. She wouldn’t feel nearly as guilty when she chose to have a hip bath.

“We keep country hours here. Just come down when you’re ready. I’m going to look in on the children.” With a smile, Virginia whisked from the room.

Dinner consisted of chicken, thinly sliced beef, stewed vegetables, and thick slices of bread and butter. Fresh apple pie made with apples from the orchard, garnished with clotted cream, was served for dessert.

“That was absolutely perfect.” Joel leaned back in his chair and patted his flat belly. “I’m always so happy to be home.”

“I know, dear.” Virginia regarded her husband with affection.

The sound of padded feet and childish squeals accompanied two children who dashed into the room. Already in bedclothes, the girl barreled toward Joel, with James right behind.

He scooped them both up, one in each arm, and planted a kiss on his daughter’s cheek. “Ready for bed, I see.” He glanced from one beaming face to the other. “Are you two getting along?”

Jimmy grinned. “Yes, indeed, Uncle Joel. Ree and I have become great friends.”

“And who is Ree?” Joel asked, raising his brows.

“That’s me, Daddy.” Clairece giggled.

Shortly after dinner, Angeline went upstairs to the much awaited bath. She found her favorite nightgown and wrapper already in the bathing chamber. Undressing quickly, she stepped into the slipper tub, sinking down into the delicious warmth.

A bar of rose scented soap rested on a tray at the edge of the tub. Releasing her long hair, she lathered and rinsed it, then quickly finished her ablutions. In the diminutive tub, the water cooled much too soon, but she felt clean and refreshed. Rising, she stepped out on a soft rug and reached for a towel.

Returning to her bedchamber, Angeline sat down by the French doors to brush out her hair while looking at the night sky. At home, the stars would appear much the same.

With her mind on England, she stepped out onto the balcony and stared up at the heavens. Pulling the wrapper more closely around her, she returned to her room. It had been a very long day and she welcomed the thought of sleep.

A cheroot flared, then dropped to the ground. Michael snuffed the tiny flame with his boot as he stepped from the shadow of a tree. His lungs had seized at the sight of her, and now he exhaled the smoke slowly through his lips. He’d thought to take his mind off Angeline with a short walk, only to see her step out onto the balcony. He would leave early in the morning. Perhaps distance would help clear his mind and thoughts of her.

But, I doubt it.

Nearly two weeks had passed, and Adrian had not returned. With each day, Angeline’s frustration grew. He was constantly on her mind, perhaps because she now resided in his home.

She’d settled into a routine that filled her mornings. After rising early, she would slip through the kitchen where Bingham would have fresh baked bread and jam for her breakfast. There was always an apple waiting to take with her to the barns.

The day promised to be another beautiful one. Timothy, the hand in charge of the horses, leaned against the barn door, a pitchfork in his grip.

“Mornin’, miss,” he said, looking up from his chores. “He’s waitin’ for you and his apple. Been talking to me all mornin’, he has.”

“Well then, we don’t want to disappoint him.” She strode to the large stall where a black Arabian stallion waited, his head stuck over the stall door.

“Good morning, Shahid.” Angeline murmured to the stallion as she fed him pieces of the apple. Juice from the sweet fruit dripped from his muzzle as he chewed. When he stretched his neck and reached for another piece, she patted his sleek hide. “It’s all gone, every last bite.”

It took only minutes for Timothy to saddle him. With a leg up, Angeline settled herself on Shahid’s back and rode out into the sunlight. Riding had always been a way to relax, and now it helped relieve the heavy feeling of loss.

Shahid, nostrils flaring, pranced with excitement at the anticipated chance to stretch his legs. When she loosened her hands on the reins, the stallion sprang forward.

She’d ridden for a while when they approached a stream. Angeline trotted the black horse to the edge to let him drink. “Not much, now,” she cautioned.

Sighing, she glanced around. Some of the landmarks were now familiar and she felt far more comfortable than when they’d first arrived. But the lack of something constructive to do left her restless.

Beth had taken little interest in the day-to-day management of Ashley Manor and it fell to Angeline to assure the large household ran smoothly. Now, she floundered with nothing solid to grab hold of. She thought of her father’s letter and its vague message. When she was able to return home, she would sort everything out.

Angeline met with Joel after her morning rides and looked forward to it. As a collector of some repute, quite often he would show her some of the old coins and other artifacts he’d gathered. His opinion, as she’d quickly discovered, was much sought after.

When she returned to the barn, Timothy was nowhere in sight. She slipped her foot from the stirrup and lifted her leg from around the pommel in preparation to slide from the horse’s back. At that same moment a man stepped from the barn, slapping his hat against his leg to rid it of dust. The sound and the motion spooked the stallion, and Shahid jumped away from the offending noise.

With a shriek, Angeline flew from his back—and collided with the solid wall of muscle that was the man’s chest. Strong arms encircled her. He staggered a step with the force of impact, then steadied himself. Absolute shock filled her as she stared into familiar deep-blue eyes. His expression changed from surprise to amusement.

“Well hello,” he chuckled, effortlessly holding her in his arms.

Angeline’s gaze slid from his eyes to his lips and the dimple at the corner of his mouth. His sun-glazed skin was darkened to the color of rich honey. A stubble of beard covered his lean jaw and chin. Pale blond hair curled lightly around his collar. He smelled of horses, tobacco, leather and healthy male sweat.

“Adrian?” she squeaked.

“Angeline.”

Her hands splayed against his chest, she flexed her fingers and felt the heat from his body through his clothing. Her skin tingled where his hands touched. Gathering her wits sufficiently to realize she was still in his arms, she pushed back. He obligingly set her down.

Blue eyes stared into lavender.

Angeline dropped her gaze and shook out the skirt of her riding habit. His silence forced her to speak. “What were you thinking, coming at us like that?” She tried, and failed, to hide her embarrassment.

“Certainly not what I’m thinking now.” His gaze traveled slowly down her length and back up. “You’ve grown up, Angel.”

Although tall and lean as she remembered, Adrian’s shoulders had broadened and the muscled body was that of a mature man in his prime. Dressed in buckskin instead of the elegant clothes of his rank, he appeared even more daunting—and utterly heart stopping. The ties to his buckskin shirt lay open, revealing glimpses of well-muscled chest. Her fingers itched to touch the blond, crinkly hair revealed to her.

She tore her gaze away, only to stare at his lean hips. A gun and holster rested against his upper thigh. Even through the soft leather of his breeches, she could discern the long slide of muscle. Angeline swallowed and tried not to stare, but everywhere her gaze fell only added to her awareness.

Adrian was simply magnificent, and he was now inspecting her in the same way she had him. Heat rose in her cheeks at the undisguised appreciation she saw in his eyes.

Mumbling something unintelligible, she pivoted and started for the house. With her hair falling free of its pins, and covered from head to toe with dust, she was all too aware of the sight she must make. This was not what she’d envisioned for their first meeting. She felt immature and gauche.

“Leaving so soon . . . Angel?”

Wishing the ground would open up and swallow her, she faced him. In an unsteady voice, she managed, “Lord Windsford, I’m certain, having just returned, there are things you must attend to. I would not wish to detain you.”

“Ah, so formal.” He straightened. “We do not stand on formality here, Angeline. Call me Adrian, as you did earlier.”

“If you will excuse me, Adrian, I should change.”

He nodded. Adrian gazed out of the upstairs window of his study. The drive had been long and hard but well worth it. The money from the sale of the cattle would provide much needed repairs and the purchase of a prize bull.

When he observed the barns and pastures, he felt a thrill of satisfaction at what had been accomplished. Unlike Windsford Hall and the estates, he’d built Spencer Ranch. Other than the initial purchase of the property, from money given him by his father and later paid back, it had all been accomplished through his hard work and that of others under his direction.

A perfunctorily knock sounded at the door, and Angeline swept in. She was halfway across the room when she noticed him and stopped. Her blue-black hair was rolled in a loose chignon at her nape. When she came nearer, he caught the sweet scent of roses. They stared at each other but neither spoke.

Joel cleared his throat and shuffled a few papers around on the desk.

Adrian’s gaze flicked to him, then back to Angeline. “Although late, allow me to offer my welcome to Spencer Ranch, and America.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“It’s Adrian.” He moved to face her. “There are several things we should discuss. After dinner, perhaps?”

“Of course. I’m sorry to have interrupted you.” Angeline’s quick glance met Joel’s, then she left the room.

“How has it been for her?” Adrian asked.

“It’s hard to say. She’s friendly and sweet, but she shares little of what she feels. The only one she’s really confided in is Michael, and only because she didn’t know he was the one sent to meet her.”

“Why? I thought it was all arranged before I left.” Adrian fought back a twinge of jealousy at his friend’s apparent closeness with her.

“Have a seat and I’ll tell you what I know.”