Authors: Sandra Lea Rice
Angeline was at the escritoire in her room penning a letter to those at Ashley Manor, when a tap fell on the door.
Shirley poked her head in. “My lady, it’s time to dress for dinner.”
Angeline placed the nib back in the ink and came to her feet, presenting her back for Shirley to unhook the fastenings of her gown. With a shimmy, she let it and her petticoat fall at her feet. Shunning the idea of wearing a corset except for more formal occasions, she shed her undergarments and dropped them into the pile of clothing. In her wrapper, she crossed to the bathing chamber. Pouring hot water into the basin, she quickly bathed.
Returning to the bedchamber, she regarded Shirley. “Are you happy here?”
Shirley, laying a gown out on the bed, hesitated. “Well, miss, I do like it here. I’ve been spending time with Franklin Bates.”
How have I missed that?
“Wasn’t he one of the drivers on the trip?”
“Yes, miss. After Mr. Whitaker died, I never thought to find anyone else.”
“And now?” Angeline noted the flush on Shirley’s cheeks.
“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to something between us.” Shirley shook out the chosen garment. “Now, let’s get you dressed.”
Shirley slipped the gown, a deep-rose silk with a delicate flower pattern trimming the neckline and hem, over Angeline’s head and secured the back. Matching slippers peeked from beneath the hem when she moved. Although originally troubled at not wearing mourning, she’d quickly realized that unless she wanted to wear the same few dresses day after day, she would have to choose from among her others. She’d refused to ask Adrian for more gowns.
Shirley arranged Angeline’s hair in ringlets at the back of her head and, plucking a few rose buds from a vase, placed them among the curls.
With a last, quick inspection in the mirror, Angeline went downstairs to join the others. Hopefully there would be a chance of a private conversation with Adrian.
The change in Adrian’s appearance was remarkable. His trimmed hair lay in soft waves over his head. Now clean shaven, his aristocratic features were even more pronounced. Tan trousers skimmed his well muscled legs while his coat of deep-blue superfine emphasized his broad shoulders. His silk waistcoat, striped in blue and tan, hugged his trim waist. His cravat was tied in a simple knot with a sapphire stick-pin in the middle. Her knees went weak as his blue gaze turned in her direction, and held.
“You look lovely this evening.” Virginia greeted her warmly. “We’ll have a nice family dinner and a chance to catch up.” She tilted her head at her brother. “Isn’t she stunning?”
“Very beautiful, indeed,” he drawled, eyeing her over the rim of his glass.
When dinner was announced, Adrian offered his arm and led her into the dining room. After seating her to his right, he took his own at the head of the table.
Throughout dinner, Angeline was aware of little else but Adrian, sitting nearby. Her senses were bombarded with the scent of his cologne, the sound of his voice, his mere presence. He talked of the cattle drive and the difficulties they’d encountered. Then he mentioned his breeding program for the horses on the ranch. The sturdy Texas mares, crossed with the Arabian stallion, Shahid, had begun to produce working stock with both the speed of the mares and the stamina of the Arabian.
Angeline bit her lip thoughtfully. “I do apologize for taking Shahid out. I had no idea.”
Adrian’s head swung lazily toward her. “The exercise is good for him. I hear you’re an accomplished rider. You would have to be to handle him.”
Angeline inclined her head in a gesture of thanks. “He’s a lovely mount.”
With the meal completed, Virginia suggested they move to the drawing room.
Although the rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough, Angeline felt somewhat confused at Adrian’s apparent indifference toward her.
Later, with Virginia checking on the children and Adrian and Joel absorbed in a private conversation, Angeline slipped outside. The breeze felt cool against her flushed cheeks.
“May I join you?”
Angeline caught the scent of Adrian’s cologne, a mixture of sandalwood and spice. “Please do.”
“I must apologize for my earlier rudeness. It was thoughtless of me to talk business in front of you.”
Tilting her head back, she peered at his face. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m certain there are many important things to discuss after such a long absence.”
Adrian gave a perfunctory nod. “There are, but that is no excuse for my behavior.” He turned to face her. “I’ve been told you ride unescorted every morning. In the future, I suggest you take a couple of men with you.”
She tried to quell her rising irritation. “While I appreciate your concern for my safety, I assure you I’ll be quite all right. I’ve ridden without mishap since I arrived, and I enjoy the solitude.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do not just dismiss what I’m telling you and don’t misinterpret what I say. You
will
do as I ask.” He placed his hands on her shoulders.
“And you, my lord,
will
release me.” She stared pointedly at his hands.
Adrian could smell the sweetness of her hair and skin and feel the warmth from her body. Reaching for her had been spontaneous—and very dangerous. He took a deep breath and removed his hands. “Please accept my apologies, again. But I meant what I said. Do not ride alone.”
“I thank you for offering me the safety of your home, but it does not give you the right to tell me what I may or may not do outside of it.” She clenched her hands tightly at her sides.
“I have every right, make no mistake about that.” Adrian’s own anger began to rise. “When I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it without argument.” She didn’t appreciate the risk, but he did. All too well.
She stiffened. “I am not a child to be ordered about. You, my lord, are nothing but a—”
Before she could finish, Adrian stepped closer and placed his fingertips against her lips. “I suggest neither of us say or do anything else we may later regret.” His gaze dropped to her mouth and he brushed a finger gently over her lips. Slowly, he removed his fingers. He’d felt a telltale tremble. She might be angry, but she was not unaffected by his touch.
“Adrian?” Her gaze searched his face.
“Good night, Angeline.” He nodded and stepped around her to return to the house.
Even lovelier than he remembered, her body had fulfilled the promise he’d seen years ago. She’d gained some weight, and all in the right places. Deliciously curvaceous, she was surprisingly sensual for her youth and inexperience. He’d dreamed of her often, her skin heated and flushed as she lay beneath him, her breath coming in gasps, as he . . .
Adrian strove to dispel the image. Unaccustomed to feeling jealousy where any woman was concerned, he found the thought of her with someone else, confiding in someone else, distinctly unsettling.
Her stubbornness worried him. He was well aware she might not heed his warning, and thus find herself in danger, or worse. She hadn’t been told of the men who followed, first on the ship and later on the train.
The last thing he wanted was to frighten her. But she was his to protect, and protect her he would.
Angeline rose early the next morning and made her way quietly down the back stairs to the kitchen. If she couldn’t ride by herself, she could at least go for a walk.
“Good morning, miss.” Bingham nodded in greeting while he kept watch on the biscuits.
“Would you mind if I sat for a moment?”
“Of course not.” He took some biscuits from the oven and put a few on a plate for her.
“They smell delicious, thank you.” Spreading butter and jam on one, she took a bite. Her eyes closed. “Umm.”
When she opened them, she found Adrian leaning against the doorjamb, watching her. Dressed in buckskin pants and white shirt, he looked even larger and more intimidating.
“The coffee’s ready, sir. Would you care for some bacon and eggs?” Bingham asked.
“Yes, thank you. I’ve missed this while I was away.” Adrian sat across from her. “Any plans for the day, Angeline?” He took a swallow of his coffee and watched her as Bingham set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him.
“Not really.”
“I have to check on some missing cattle. You’re welcome to ride along.” Adrian dug into his meal.
“I would like that very much. I need to change, but I’ll hurry.” Angeline jumped to her feet, leaving Adrian barely enough time to gain his before she rushed from the room.
Changing into a riding skirt borrowed from Virginia, she slipped on a yellow cotton blouse. After plaiting her hair, she picked up her riding gloves and hurried downstairs.
When she returned, Adrian had finished his breakfast. He glanced at her and stood.
“Oh, I need—” She appealed to Bingham who handed her an apple. Adrian’s brow rose in question. “Thank you, he’ll be looking for it.” Meeting his puzzled gaze, she added, “For Shahid.”
When they entered the barn, Angeline called softly to the stallion. Shahid nickered in response. “Good morning, beauty,” she crooned, giving him a bite of the apple.
Adrian watched her fingers caress the delicate muzzle and shuddered as he imagined those fingers caressing him. He turned away to busy himself saddling the horses. Hefting the first saddle, he stepped by her to place it on Shahid’s back, tighten the girth, and slip the bridle over the horse’s head. He moved to his own mount.
Adrian knew she watched him. He could feel her gaze on him as surely as if she’d touched him. Young and innocent, Angeline didn’t recognize the effect she had on him. If he couldn’t control his wayward thoughts, his reaction to her would soon become all too apparent.
He placed his hands on her waist, took a second to enjoy the feel and scent of her, then lifted her up to the saddle. Reaching for his horse’s reins, he swung up and gave her a nod. “Ready?”
“Yes.” Angeline loosened her hold on the reins and Shahid bounded forward. At her laugh, a light, tinkling sound of sheer delight, he grinned and sent his gelding into a canter to follow.
They rode for a while in silence, then slowed to a walk.
“You ride well, Angel.” He’d heard of her escapades with horses and wondered if they were true. Observing her, he had no doubt they were. She was fearless on horseback and possibly a better rider than even he. In England, he’d been considered one of the best.
“I learned to ride on my father’s hunters,” she admitted. “You mentioned some missing cattle?”
Adrian tilted his head toward a hill. “The men reported seeing them just up ahead.”
At the top of a knoll, the trees opened into a clearing. Adrian brought his horse to a stop, pulled his hat lower to shade his eyes from the sun, and scanned the area. “There they are,” he pointed.
Angeline rose in the saddle to see. “What should we do now? If you’ll tell me, I can help.”
Adrian glanced at Angeline, noting her flushed face. If he hadn’t been so distracted by her presence, he would have insisted on her wearing a hat. He frowned, and wondered if she possessed one. If not, that was easily remedied.
“I’ll let the men know where they are. We should turn back. It’s already quite warm and the sun will burn your fair skin.”
“Not yet, please.”
With a sense of foreboding, Adrian considered her plea, then, tossing caution aside, said, “Come, I’ll show you a favorite place of mine.” He urged his big gelding into a canter.
They rode in companionable silence until they reached a grouping of trees. He heard her draw in a deep breath as she gazed around. A waterfall cascaded over the boulders of a small cliff and into a pond below. Streaks of shimmering color danced above the tumbling water, while the sun glinted off the spray like diamonds.
“This is beautiful.” She smiled at him and his heart missed a beat.
He cleared his throat, steadied his voice. “I come here as often as I can to relax and think.”
Adrian swung from his horse and reached to help Angeline down. Her face glowed with pleasure and his breath hitched in his throat. He’d been right to question the saneness of bringing her here.
His gaze met hers, then dropped to her lips. They parted in invitation. No man could mistake that for what it was, nor could he mistake his body’s reaction to the enticement.
One kiss. He lowered his lips to hers. He would stop with just one kiss.
Shahid took exception to his closeness and nuzzled Angeline. Her eyes widened, then she yelped—and tumbled into the pond, taking Adrian with her. They both came up sputtering.
“Bloody hell,” Adrian gasped at the shock of the unexpectedly cold water. He grimaced, while Angeline brushed the water from her eyes.
When she started to laugh, he found himself laughing with her. It had been such a long, long time.
“Well, this was indeed a surprise,” she said, still laughing.
He took her by the arm. “Come on. We need to dry off.”
She hesitated and glanced out toward the middle. “How deep is the pond?”
“Not very. Maybe ten feet or so.” His eyes narrowed, suddenly suspicious. “Why?”
“Could we go for a swim? There’s no one to see us if we were to shed our—”
“Absolutely not,” he choked. “Don’t even think about it.” He shoved her unceremoniously toward the bank.
“One would think you’d never seen a woman unclothed before. I know that’s not true. Besides, I could leave my drawers and chemise on.” She marched on.
His head reeled. “This conversation is completely improper.”
“Don’t look so shocked, Adrian. I’m not without propriety, but I didn’t realize you were so stuffy,” she huffed. “If you were to turn your back . . .”
The picture his mind conjured of Angeline naked, her lovely skin tinted a light rose from the cold water, had his body tightening with need. “I don’t play games with an innocent. So whatever you’re up to—stop it.”
Adrian heard a distinct ‘humph’ as she pivoted and strode away from the water’s edge toward a large rock.
“And I’m not stuffy,” he muttered, following in her wake.
She was a complete enigma. Although she’d been the one to initiate the kiss three years ago, he knew she was untutored in the art of seduction. But where other women practiced the skill, she was naturally sensual. Combined with her zest for life, he found her nearly irresistible. He would have to avoid being alone with her if he intended to stay within the bounds of propriety.
He clamped his jaw at the sight of Angeline sitting in the sun on the edge of the rock, her wet clothes clinging to her full breasts and lush curves. When she placed her palms on the boulder behind her and leaned back, he clenched his fists and fought for control. She seemed unaware of what her sodden clothing revealed, but he was not . . . and he found it impossible to look away.
“I don’t see what the problem is,” she mumbled, her eyes closed.
The blood began to roar in his ears as he stared at her. He wanted to touch and feel the weight of her full breasts in his hands and slide his palms along her impossibly tiny waist.
Against his better judgment, he walked over and knelt in front of her. “The problem, sweeting, is that you’re a beautiful, desirable woman and I am not unaffected by your charms.”
Her eyes flew open and she gaped at him. Her gaze lifted to the wet hair on his forehead, then slowly, she reached up and brushed it back from his face, letting her fingers trail down the side of his jaw. Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
As she ran the tip of her tongue across her lower lip, he groaned. It took all the strength he possessed to raise his hands to her shoulders and not haul her against him. “No, Angeline. Don’t.”
“You don’t want to kiss me? I thought, that is, I’d hoped—”
He saw the confusion in her eyes.
“You’re under my roof, my protection. Honor dictates how I shall behave. I could use your affection for me and take what you offer, but where is the honor in that?” He stood and moved away, unwilling to see the hurt and confusion clouding her eyes.
“We should get back.” She rose to her feet.
Humiliation kept Angeline silent during the ride back. Once there, she dismounted and went straight to her room. Pleading a headache, she chose not to appear at dinner. Instead, she asked that a tray be sent to her.
She needed time to think, to decide what she should do. Disappointed, rather than angry, she struggled to accept Adrian’s right to reject her if he chose.
It grew late, and the house quiet. Thinking everyone asleep, Angeline stepped through the French doors and out to the balcony. She pulled her wrapper tightly around her against the cool night air. When the tip of a cigarillo glowed in the dark, she spun to go back inside.
“Angeline, wait.” Adrian flipped the cigar over the railing as he strode toward her. “It’s important for you to understand why I stopped. Men like me live by a certain code of honor. This code is drilled into us from the time we’re out of nappies, and becomes an intrinsic part of who we are. An honorable man does not take advantage of a woman under his own roof, certainly not an innocent.”
“I know you’re an honorable man, Adrian. It’s just that . . .” She bit her lip.
“Just what, Angel?” He moved closer.
Angeline tilted her head. “I thought, hoped, when you saw me, noticed I was now a woman grown, you might return my regard in some way. But you haven’t, and I don’t want a man who doesn’t want me. Rest assured, it will not happen again.”
He was momentarily rendered speechless. “Good God, is that what you think, that I don’t want you? It couldn’t be further from the truth. But it doesn’t change anything.”
Her expression had softened at his words and she now gazed at him in a way that made his chest constrict. “Angel, I’m trying to control whatever this is, whatever’s between us. But if you keep looking at me in that way, I’m not certain I can.”
She laid her palms against his chest and tilted her face to his. “Don’t you understand, Adrian? I’m not asking you to.”
In the moonlight, he could see the outline of her body through the thin material of her wrapper. “No,
you
don’t understand. I’m no callow youth, someone to send you posies and recite poetry. I don’t ride in parks and attend countless balls or soirees anymore. Those days are lost and far behind me.”
He placed his hands over the top of hers where they rested on his chest. “My desire for you is not an innocent or proper thing nor has it been for a very long time. I’ve dreamed of you lying in my bed, your arms lifted toward me in welcome, your thighs parted for me.”
She gasped, pulled her hands away, and stepped back.
“You
should
be frightened, Angeline. Now, go back inside.” He turned from her, and waited until he knew she had gone.
The last thing he’d ever intended was to hurt her. He’d been a fool to believe he could bring her here and remain uninvolved. Hell, he’d been involved since that brief kiss on the stairs, three years ago.
He leaned against the railing and gazed at the night sky. Through the years, he’d listened carefully for any word of her from the infrequent letters Elizabeth sent. At William’s belief she held a
tendre
for some man, he’d wondered if he could possibly be that man. Angeline was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. He’d cared deeply for Pricilla and would have been a good and faithful husband to her, but he burned for Angeline. She was like a fever in his blood.
He knew if he opened that door and followed her, she would welcome him into her arms and her bed. But he wasn’t a cad, and scorned such deceitful action.
As her sobs quieted, he walked back to his room.