Angel's Devil (4 page)

Grandmama
Elizabeth sat back slowly. "Are you looking for a bride, or a horse?"
she queried after a moment.

James snorted
and struggled upright. "You're the one who keeps nagging at me to find a
wife, settle down, have children, and stop behaving like the Devil
himself."

"But . . .
don't you wish to find someone you care for? You're going about it as if it's a
business proposition."

"Isn't it?
You know damned well that the number of marriages made out of social or
monetary necessity far outnumber the supposed love matches," he returned
cynically.

Elizabeth
stood, picking up her book and her tea. "I am not going to assist you in
this, James. You are one of the few people in the enviable position of being
able to marry for love. I'll not be a party to your wasting that."

"I'd be
wasting my time if I waited for such nonsense."

She turned
around. "You are wrong, James. You're only saying that because of Desiree.
It's been—"

"Don't
mention that . . . woman's name in my presence," he snapped.

"I only
hope you realize what a mistake you're making before it's too late for you and
whatever Unfortunate girl you select."

"Well,
we'll see, won't we?" he returned, sitting back again and annoyed that the
one female who came to mind apparently wasn't available.

"Yes, I
imagine we will," his grandmother replied as she left the room.

"Brutus,"
Angel complained as the dog pulled her across the edge of Hyde Park, "if
you can't mind me, Mama and Papa will never let you stay."

Whether he
understood or not, Brutus left off sniffing a promising clump of shrubs and
returned to her side. Angel's maid, Tess, gave a relieved sigh. "I still
think we should have brought one of the grooms, my lady," she commented.

"If that
dog takes it into his head to make off with you, I'll never be able to catch
up."

Angel nodded,
agreeing. "I know, but he doesn't seem to like men holding his leash. I
think it's because that awful man, Fenley, was so mean to him." She tugged
on the line, and Brutus turned to follow them as they toured the edge of the
Ladies' Mile, hopefully far enough from the track that the mastiff wouldn't be
tempted to chase any of the horses cantering there.

"I wish
you'd warned me about the danger of reining him in before I attempted such a
perilous feat myself," a voice came from behind her, and she turned
around.

"My
lord," she said with a surprised smile, as James Faring approached across
the grass. He was on foot, as she was, a gold-tipped cane in one hand.

Brutus gave a
woof and bounded toward the marquis. Tail wagging furiously, the dog jerked
Angelique helplessly forward. "Oh, not again," she muttered, hauling
with all her might on the leash. Despite her best efforts they careened full
speed toward Abbonley.

"No,
Brutus," the marquis stated firmly as the dog reached him. Immediately
Brutus collapsed at Lord Abbonley's feet. James leaned over and scratched him
behind the ears.

"Thank
goodness," Angelique sighed, grinning at the marquis. "Apparently you
are considered part of the rescue party, and are acceptable to him."

''Thank
goodness, indeed," he muttered, straightening. Eyes twinkling, he reached out
to take her free hand and bring it to his lips.

The marquis
still looked pale and tired, but then he'd only been back in London for three
days. "How are you feeling?" she queried when she realized she'd been
staring at him.

"Better,"
he returned. The humor, though, left his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me
about you and Simon?" he asked quietly.

She sobered as
well, guilt flooding through her. "You've heard."

"I was
bound to eventually, don't you think? Simon is my cousin, after all."

Angelique
abruptly wanted to explain everything to him, to see the hurt and offended look
leave his eyes. "I'm sorry," she returned. "I wanted to tell
you, but—"

"But it is
a secret, you know," another voice came from behind her.

"Simon!"
she exclaimed, smiling as she turned around:

Simon swept a
bow and stepped forward to kiss her knuckles. "I'm pleased you've
returned from Paris." The glance over at his cousin was less than
friendly. "I said we'd discuss this later, James. It is between you and
me, and does not involve Angelique.”

Angel rather
thought that it did, but before she could protest, Brutus rose and walked over
to Simon. He sniffed the boots of the son of Viscount Wansglen, then with a
single half-hearted wag of his tail, returned to sit on Abbonley's foot.
"Brutus, don't hurt the marquis," she reprimanded, tugging on the
leash.

James grinned
reluctantly. "It's all right. That's my good leg he's crushing." He
glanced from her to Simon, then cleared his throat. "What do you think of
this?" he asked, lifting the cane and twirling it once before he set it
down again at Brutus's uncertain look. "Do I look dashing, or merely
decrepit?"

Angelique
laughed. "Oh, dashing, most definitely."

"Don't
tell him that," Simon protested. "I've been trying to convince Jamie to
stay in bed, and now you've told him he's dashing. There's nothing left to do
but surrender."

"That's
wise," James noted coolly. Apparently the marquis didn't like secrets, or
at least ones he hadn't been let in on.

Simon grimaced
at his cousin. "So that's your new pet, is it?" be queried, turning
to eye the mastiff skeptically. "James said you'd acquired a dog. That,
though, looks more like a pony."

"Hush,
Simon," she chastised half seriously, "he's very sensitive. He'll
only eat if Henry or Helen or I sit with him. I think he misses his
companions."

"Well,
Angel, he's not exactly a house pet," Simon pointed out.

Brutus licked
his chops and sighed. "He is now," Angelique returned, stepping over
to pet the canine.

"Who are
Henry and Helen?" the marquis queried, looking down at her.

"My
brother and sister," Angel explained, straightening.

"They're
twins. Mama and Papa find them exasperating as well."

He grinned.
"Then I look forward to meeting them." After a moment spent smiling
at him, Angel shook herself and turned to Simon. "That remirids me. I
received a letter from Lily yesterday. She expects to be in London late next
week."

"That's
wonderful. You've told me so much about Miss Stanfred, I feel I already know
her." Mr. Talbott glanced over Angel's shoulder, his expression becoming
more serious. "But perhaps I could call on you for tea tomorrow, and we
can further discuss your friend's arrival."

Angel turned to
follow his gaze. Of the two dozen women riding along the Ladies' Mile, all but
a few seemed to find the near end of the track much more interesting.
"Gossips," she scoffed, turning back again, disgusted at their
transparent curiosity.

"Gossips
or no, it's not very seemly for us to be seen standing here talking to
you," her betrothed pointed out.

Angel looked
over at Abbonley to find that he was watching her. Almost immediately he
glanced away to look at their audience, then turned back to Simon. "Well,
I've a mastiff on my foot, so what do you suggest we do?"

Angel chuckled. "Allow me. I hope." She tugged on the leash.
"Come on, Brutus, there're some lovely rabbits for you to chase just over
here."

With a heavy
sigh the dog stood, looked at Simon, gave another wag to James, and walked off.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Simon," Angel said over her shoulder.

"Bon chance,
Lady Angelique." The marquis
saluted her with the tip of his cane, and she grinned.

She knew the
moment the two men were out of sight. Three of the riders ahead of her
immediately dismounted and approached, while the others finally decided to try
the other end of the track. "Angel, wasn't that the Marquis of Abbonley
with Mr. Talbott?" one of them, her friend Jenny, queried.

"Yes, it
was," she answered.

Louisa Delon
looked distastefully at Brutus. "How do you know the Devil?"

"We
arrived back in Dover at the same time. His coach hadn't arrived, so he rode
home with us," Angelique answered, somewhat annoyed at Louisa's use of
Abbonley's nickname.

”They Say
Gabriella Marietti was his mistress before he went off to war. Or one of them,
anyway," Mary Hampston noted, unasked.

Angel glanced
over at Mary. She had seen the famous opera singer on several occasions, and
had thought her quite lovely. Now that she thought about it, though, there was
something of a scratchy quality to the Italian woman's voice, so perhaps Miss
Marietti wasn't as wonderful as everyone assumed. “Oh, was she?" she
asked, trying to project just the right touch of boredom and disinterest into
her voice.

Louisa and Mary
glanced at one another. "The marquis is quite handsome," Louisa
offered.

"Yes, he
is," Angel agreed, thinking of those emerald eyes. The two gossips
continued looking at her. "In an arrogant sort of way, I suppose,"
she added hurriedly. It wasn't very seemly for an engaged woman to be complimenting
the looks, however handsome they might be, of her betrothed's cousin. Even if
no one else knew she was engaged. .

"So you
were the first to know the Devil had returned to England," Mary commented.

"You
shouldn't call him that," Jenny broke in. "What if he should return
and hear you?"

"I wonder
what Lady Kensington will think of his return." Louisa smirked.

Angel looked
from one girl to the other, feeling as though she was missing something and not
quite certain how to ask without sounding, well, like a gossip. "Desiree
Kensington?" she finally asked weakly.

"Oh, yes,
didn't you know?" Louisa went on, apparently happy to be imparting the
information. "The Devil killed Viscount Luester over her."

"In a
duel," Mary added unnecessarily.

Angel took a
shaky breath. "Oh, my," she whispered. She knew there had been a duel
and a scandal, but none of the details.

Mary nodded,
twisting her reins in her gloved hands. "That was before she married Lord
Kensington."

"Not by
much," Louisa giggled, though she could only have been fourteen or fifteen
at the time, for she was the same age as Angel. "They both wanted to marry
her. During the duel the Devil waited until the viscount shot," she raised
her hand as though holding a pistol and squinted down the imaginary barrel,
"and then blew a hole right through his chest." She fired her finger
at Brutus. Angelique flinched.

Mary shivered
delicately. "That's why they call him the Devil."

"And that'
s not all he's done," Louisa continued, stepping forward. "Did you
know three years ago he made a wager with Lord Renard about a race to Bath and
nearly killed himself and Renard trying to beat him?"

"Did he
win the bet?" Jenny asked.

"Oh, yes.
Set a record, too. And there were rumors about him and Lord Renard's wife—"

"I
apologize," Angelique broke in, "but I've a dressmaker's
appointment. I'll see you all later, yes?"

They parted
company, and thankfully Brutus was ready to return home as well. Angelique
wished she had realized sooner about the duel. With the Devil back in London
casting a pall over his family name, her parents would never agree to move the
wedding date forward, much less publish an announcement. With her freedom so
close to hand, the thought of waiting for nearly a year before achieving it was
so frustrating she sometimes thought she would burst. She and Simon got along
so smashingly, and in her own household she wouldn't have to follow the
stifling, silly rules her mother and father seemed to have invented simply to
cause her to be almost constantly in trouble. Angelique frowned. There had to
be something that could be done.

She wanted to mention her concern to Simon, but at tea the next day and
then at Almack's two days later she still hadn't been able to muster the nerve
to say anything. After all, whatever the
ton
might think, the Marquis of
Abbonley hadn't seemed all that scandalous to her. Instead, she found herself
wondering why there was no sign of James Faring over the next few days, and how
he must have felt upon learning that the woman he had killed for had married
someone else.

The affair at the Sheffields the following Saturday was the first grand
ball since her return to London, and it seemed as though the entire
haute
ton
had turned out for it. "You look radiant," Simon greeted her
as she joined the group of young people on one side of the huge, waxed dance
floor. He took her hand and brushed her knuckles with his lips. "I have
been waiting for nearly a month to dance with you."

She smiled.
"You are so sweet to say that."

"Not at
all. Has your Miss Stanfred arrived in town yet?”