Angel of Ash (18 page)

Hunter glanced towards her husband, smiling herself, even though tears were forming upon her eyes. “I never told you, how hauntingly she plays; I’ve never heard music so wonderful, even when you took me to the many musicals, the many shows. She is wonderful, isn’t she?”

Gabe nodded, the music speaking to his very soul. “I have never heard such a powerful pianist from one so young,” he agreed. “She is wonderful.”

The few couples dancing upon the floor were lost in the music, transported to another world, a world of daring deeds, noble lords and ladies, love lost, unrequited, a lover forlorn and alone. Sadness and pain, but in the end, a slight hope, an awakening passion, pain easing to happiness, pain easing to joy.

When Angel finally finished, her lithe fingers stilling upon the keys, it took her a long moment to awaken from the spell in which she had weaved upon herself and the audience, and it was only the sound of loud clapping from behind her and before her, that shook her of her reverie as she glanced up, everyone immensely touched by the haunting beauty of her musical words.

It was with little wonder that the men called for an encore, and Angel happily obliged, this time instructing the musicians behind her into a happy, upbeat tune. She counted, “One, two, three,” and at first the violin and flute began playing, before she and the rest also joined, the music light and gay as the couples spun around. The men without a partner, merrily dancing with each other in good nature as Angel went through five more sets, before the crowd, and her, were wonderfully exhausted, sublimely happy and positively elated.

No soul was left untouched by her music, the servants humming slightly in the other rooms, upbeat, many of the romancing couples finding a dark hallway to dance together and even the unusually stern housekeeper was seen, humming ever so slightly before a maid interrupted her gaiety.

The audience roared with wonderment as Angel and the rest of the musicians stood, bowing and curtseying and then, the musicians beginning to applaud with the rest, honoring Angel as she smiled and curtseyed.

When the applause finally died down, Angel swept away by the admiring crowd, it was Anthony and Asher who stayed rooted to their spots as if caught by a spell neither of them could shake.

“
Magnificent, isn’t she?” Were Anthony’s first words as he lifted the wine glass he had set down to applaud?

Asher nodded, barely, staring at Anthony with hooded eyes. He’d not let that bastard within ten feet of Angel. “Stay away from her,” he said.

Anthony smirked. “Why? Have you already staked your claim upon her, cousin? Come, now, you know how I am willing to share my women, as we have done in the past. This one can be no different…can she? She is exceedingly beautiful, I have never seen her like, alarmingly exotic.”

He was deliberately goading Asher, learning fast what Asher had taught him. But Asher offered no smile, no words of amusement. He stared at his cousin, probably his closest if he would admit to himself, friend and uttered these sharp words: “If you touch her, I will see you dead.”

Asher left him, left Anthony staring at him, before he lifted his lips in a daring smile; toasting Asher’s departing back before pressing the crowd to join Angel who was now speaking with Hunter, his cousin.

“Cousin,” Anthony began, kissing Hunter upon the cheek as she smiled. “You are looking splendid, how is the little one?”

“Wonderful, thank you, Anthony,” she said, returning his kiss. “Tell me if you enjoyed Angel’s music as much as I did and I will forgive you for missing the ball we threw for the brothers a short month ago.”

Anthony turned powerful eyes upon Angel. “Of course, I would be a fool to deny the beauty of Ms. Barrett’s recital. You should of course, be playing in the largest rehearsal halls, you do know this, Ms. Barrett. Such talent as yours I have never heard.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Hawthorne,” Angel returned, smiling and knowing he flirted wickedly with her as Hunter looked on with a small smile. It would do Asher good to see the many men at Angel’s disposal, perhaps even make him angry enough to lay claim upon her himself and leave the demons of his past to the grave where they belonged.

Anthony turned back towards Hunter. “And, dear cousin, I submitted my letter of due grievance for having to miss the ball, which I still hear tale of. An astonishment that the brothers were all there and it was not even a death…or birth in the family. But I heard tale, also of how Asher refused the dance floor, as usual.”

Hunter confided in Love. “Asher does not…no, I hate to say it, cannot dance, Angel, two left feet. So he stalks the floor, staring with deadly bore at the couples wishing he is long since gone to play poker or drink brandy or sprouting politics, or some such thing. Anything to get him away he makes an excuse for.”

Angel smiled in amusement. And here she had thought Asher perfect; it was nice to know that he like everyone else had some type of flaw.

“And you, Mr. Hawthorne, does two left feet run in the family or do you take well to the dance floor?”

And Anthony smiled, giving her a seductive smile, one in which, she was sure he’d learned from his older cousin, Asher. “The only way to know…is to test me out, my lady, would you care to dance?” He asked.

And Angel nodded a waltz taking place, one in which Mr. Taylor, the hired pianist was leading. It was with no small notice that Angel’s playing greatly outdistanced Mr. Taylor, even though he was more than passable.

The couple joined the others upon the dance floor, the two different family members mingling together happily with the birth of the new son and next earl.

Asher had eyes for no one other than Angel. He was seriously contemplating castrating Anthony a fate worse than death; his threat had obviously fallen on dumb and deaf ears. No matter, the waltz was short, and this time his father, respectable man that he was danced with Angel, while Luke took his mother’s hand in another light quadrille, the music sadly missing the gaiety and emotion which the accomplished An gel had performed.

Asher had been shocked and nearly shaken to the core by her music, as it felt as if she spoke directly to him with her fingers, the music filling the aching void in his soul a void which had never been touched by another.

And so, now as he stared at her, he saw her with enlightened eyes, an artist in her own right, thinking of the fingers that touched him caressed his body could bring such enjoyment to him in other ways. He couldn’t wait for tonight.

After the dance, his uncle Drake escorted her to the small refreshment bar set up, as she drank a glass of lemonade and spoke to him, Maria joining the two as Asher watched with lethal cat eyes.

A voice at his side broke his moodiness.

“If you stare at her any harder, my dear brother, I fear as if you shall ignite her in her very steps.”

He grunted, knowing that Hunter was right, feeling like a fool for rendering Angel so much attention. “Good evening, little mother,” Asher said, already forming a nickname for his small sister which she detested. He loved to tease her, however, and met her flashing golden eyes as she grumbled at him.

“The fact is, dear brother that I have noticed your eyes have not lifted from my best friend, all evening. Asher, please, for the sake of peace in this family, do not treat her callously, she deserves someone who will love her, treat her with respect, not someone-”

She paused, not wanting to finish but knowing she had to. “Not someone like you, Asher, who could care less about her. Asher, she means so much to me. She is not like the other women you dally with who are used to such affairs. She is an innocent, Asher and I will not have her hurt by one such as you.”

“One such as me? You speak as if I am not your brother, little sister.”

“I speak to you as Angel’s friend, her best friend, who wants the best for her and do not want to see her hurt by you, Asher, your reputation precedes you. You will treat her no differently than the many other women whom have come across your path.”

And it was Asher who grew cold, increasingly so. “Do not tell me what to do, Hunter, you overstep your bounds. Angel is a grown woman and she does not need a friend like you telling her what to do. Let her live her life, Hunter and concern yourself with your new son, husband and daughter.”

“Promise me you won’t hurt her, Ash,” she whispered, holding on to his sleeve as he turned away. “If you break her heart, Asher, how could you live with yourself? She is innocent of betrayal, of deceit, I swear this to you. She takes no part of the lifestyle which you hold so dear.” And then her voice dropped, even lower, her words urgent. “She is not like that bitch you gave your heart to, Asher. Don’t you dare treat her as such, if you hurt her, I will want no part of you in my life…or in my child’s life.”

And Asher was left, staring after her departing back, knowing she meant the words in which she’d thrown at him.

It was Asher who came to her room, late in the night, after the house had settled. He opened the door, watching her as she packed a trunk in the middle of her room. His first reaction was one of horror, that she was leaving, that he’d not be able to see her again as he quickly walked toward her, surprising her, as she glanced, startled. “Asher, what is amiss?” She asked as she stood quickly, where he clenched her arms tightly.

“Where are you going?” He asked hurriedly.

“To visit with my aunt and her family, I told you, the first day of our travel I was to visit with her tomorrow for a stay and then I shall be back to continue the rest of my time with Hunter.”

Her words calmed the rapid beating of his heart, yes, he had forgotten, as he released her arms, smiling to cover his badly decomposed composure. “Yes…I had forgotten,” he said. “Who is to take you?”

“Your mother and father,” she returned, quietly, studying him. “Everything has been arranged.”

Asher would have known this information if he had not been deliberately avoiding his family for the past week. He nodded, smiling even more widely, his dimples deep. “That is no good at all, my Angel. When you return I shall be gone,” he informed her.

“But, where?” She asked.

“I must return to London, for business, and where I make my residency, I have left it far too long, more than a week. I had stayed two days longer than what I had first planned, I can stay no longer.”

“But-” she did not like the words in which he spoke. “When will we see each other, again? Perhaps, I can come to London, my aunt spoke of the season which is even now occurring.”

Asher stared at her, thinking of Hunter’s words, thinking of Deborah, the woman before her, the woman after her, the woman who wasn’t her but was her, right at this minute. Innocence, deceit, gross betrayal. He smiled, nonchalantly. “Perhaps, now, would be as good as time as any, to end our little affair, my Angel,” he said watching as her eyes darkened in pain and mentally shielding himself from her hurt. He smiled even wider, lifting one fingertip to brush the curls upon her face, back. “Yes, it would be for the best, before we say words we do not mean, we become even more entangled in feelings which would do us no good. I bid you farewell, Angel and I thank you for the nights in which we have shared.”

“Asher!” She exclaimed, watching him walk out of her life. She stood frozen for long moments, too long, before her legs moved, going to the bathing room, reaching for the doorknob to find it locked for the first time at her touch. “Asher!” She cried, tugging at the doorknob, but it would not budge and there was no sound from within.

She hit her fist against the door, again and again, crying, calling his name. “Don’t! Please, Asher,” she cried, feeling bereft, abandoned. “Please,” she whispered brokenly against the door, falling to the floor, one hand still upon the doorknob, her skirts floating high above her before settling upon the floor beneath her. “Please,” she said again. “Please, I love you,” she admitted to the door. No one answered her. No one returned her lovelorn pleas. No one, except Asher that is, who stood on the other side of the door, listening to her cries, listening to her tears and knowing he’d made the biggest mistake of his life, but pride, the pride which had seen him through so many years, would not let him relent, until finally after what seemed like hours later, he heard the rustle of her skirts, her footsteps and then lastly, her door closing.

Chapter 6

Angel was quiet during the carriage ride to her aunt’s home. She politely answered Maria’s and Ethan’s questions, but offered them little more than whatever they asked of her. It was with little wonder that she fell asleep, after the exhaustive and troubling night which she’d had, tears forever before her as she packed the remaining of her clothing for her stay at her namesake’s home.

Asleep, she found herself even more troubled than when awake, searching endlessly for Asher in a maze, which was dark, misty. She was always one step behind him, always just inches away from her outstretched hands. Finally, when she did find him, when she was finally able to touch him, he turned towards her, cruelly, smacking her hand away and leaving her crumpled and alone in the middle of the chaotic puzzle.

Angel breathed deeply, the motion not lost on Ethan and Maria. Maria knew that look in Angel’s eyes, she’d entertained the same look, and Angel had fallen for someone at the grouping. But with who, she could only question.

All of her sons were enraptured by the beautiful American, all sprouting her praises, her sweetness and vulnerability. Why David and Michael had nearly come to blows over an argument as to who Angel enjoyed more. She’d not see her sons’ this argumentative since they had been small children.