Authors: Sandra Lea Rice
Shirley pulled back the drapes in the shadowy room to open a window and allow some fresh air in. Angeline had already risen, too restless to sleep.
“It’s time to dress for dinner, my lady.” Shirley crossed to the wardrobe and flung the doors open.
Angeline rose from the chair. “I’ve decided to wear the silver gown.”
Shirley studied her for a moment, then sighed. “I hope you can make peace with this, my lady. Your anger isn’t good for you or the babe.”
“I want to, Shirley. You mentioned there being two sides to everything. I’m beginning to see it. It hurts me to say this, but what my mother did was wrong.” Angeline didn’t expect a reply. There was nothing Shirley could say.
She lifted her arms and Shirley slid the dress over her head, fastening the hooks in the back. She’d lost weight during her illness, and even with her pregnancy, the dress still fit.
“You look lovely. Now come and I’ll fix your hair.”
Shirley twisted Angeline’s hair high at her crown and secured it with crystal-tipped hairpins, loosening a few curls to drape at each ear.
“Thank you, Shirley.” Angeline impulsively hugged her companion. “You really are a dear friend.”
Her anticipation at seeing
Don
Philippe again countered the worry she felt. If she were not careful with how she responded, she could place him at risk.
Upon entering the room, Angeline spotted Adrian deep in conversation with the other men and started toward him.
A movement at the veranda door caught her attention and she glanced in that direction. Her breath caught as she met the dark eyes of
Don
Philippe. His hair had been cut. The goatee gone, a neatly trimmed mustache remained. Dressed in black, his bolero jacket edged in silver, he appeared every bit the Spanish aristocrat she knew him to be.
Philippe strode purposefully toward her. He bowed, and brushed a kiss over the back of her hand. “I am
Don
Philippe Montenegro.” Dark eyes, bright with warmth, met hers. “I knew your mother.”
Angeline held his gaze, reluctant to break it. “I’ve heard of you,
Don
Philippe. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Esteban hurried forward, a broad smile crossing his face as he clasped Philippe’s hand. “It is good to see you, my friend. We have heard nothing of you in many years.”
“It has been a long time, but I am back now.” Philippe’s gaze flickered to Angeline.
Esteban brought Angeline forward. “You have met our niece. It is easy to see how you recognized her, but let me formally introduce you. This is Angelina Franchesca Cordova.”
“I must correct you,
Don
Esteban.” Adrian stepped to a place at Angeline’s side. “She is Angeline Spencer, Lady Windsford, and my wife.”
“I beg your pardon. In my pleasure at seeing an old friend, I forgot myself and did not think,” Esteban offered ruefully. “Lord Windsford, let me introduce
Don
Philippe Montenegro. He has just recently returned to Spain.”
Angeline watched for any sign of recognition. There was none.
“It is a pleasure, Lord Windsford.” Philippe sketched a short bow.
Adrian inclined his head. “Mine as well.”
“Philippe, come and meet the others.” Esteban led him to where Michael and Penelope waited with Rafael.
Rafael came forward, his hand extended. “Welcome, Philippe. It is good to see you again.” His gaze slid to Angeline, then back to Philippe. “If I did not know better, one would almost think you knew the
niña
.”
Philippe’s dark eyes scanned her face. “She is remarkably like her mother. I also knew she would be here.” His eyes signaled caution, a warning she’d already acknowledged.
“Of course,” Rafael replied courteously.
After Esteban made the introductions, Penelope spoke up. “I’m Adrian’s cousin, and I much prefer to be called Penelope among friends and family.”
Philippe’s eyes creased at the corners. “Then Penelope it shall be,
niña
.” His gaze lifted to her hair. “In this light, the fire seems to dance, not only in your hair but also in your eyes. The name suits you.”
Penelope blushed prettily.
“You have not changed at all, Philippe,” Esteban said with a chuckle. “Women have always liked you.”
Philippe turned to Michael. “It is
Captain
Harrington, is it not?”
Michael dipped his head. “Yes. I’m with the United States Army.”
“Is there a connection to Harrington Shipping?” Philippe questioned.
“I’m surprised,
Don
Philippe. Not many would recognize the association.”
“My family has used your ships to transport goods for many years. Since my return, I have been spending time reacquainting myself with the management and business of the family.”
“Were you traveling abroad?” Michael asked.
Angeline tensed at the seemingly innocuous question.
“I have been many places these last years, too many to recall.” Philippe changed the subject smoothly. “How is
Don
Fernando? I understand he is not well.”
A shadow of concern crossed Esteban’s face. “He grows weaker by the day. He has asked to see you, Philippe. Could you come tomorrow morning?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Philippe’s gaze returned to Angeline. “You look lovely in your mother’s dress.”
Her brows lifted in surprise. “You recognize it?”
Philippe smiled. “But of course. When she wore that gown I thought the stars in heaven must have fallen from the sky to surround her. But she outshone even the brightest of them. As do you.”
Angeline flushed in response as she caught Penelope’s muffled, “Oh, my.”
“May I escort you to the refreshment table for some iced fruit punch? If the sweet drink is as I remember, you will find it quite delicious.” Philippe held out his arm. Without hesitation, Angeline slipped her arm through his.
When far enough away so as not to be overheard, he murmured, “Have you recovered well,
niña
?”
“The healing was difficult, and I tire easily, but for the most part, yes. I am recovered.”
Philippe lowered his voice and bent his head close to hers. “I should have stayed with you and not left.”
Angeline flicked her eyes to the others and back. “We both know that was not possible. Had they found you, they would have killed you.” She met his gaze directly. “I want to thank you for protecting me from Malcolm the way you did. If you hadn’t—”
Philippe’s usually bright eyes clouded. His lips formed a thin line. “I placed you in harm’s way and I am most sorry for that.” He stepped to the table, poured some punch into a glass, and offered it to her, his eyes once again flat and clear.
“But you didn’t know what kind of man he was,” Angeline reasoned.
“
Niña
, it is I you do not know. What Malcolm was did not matter to me until I saw firsthand what he was capable of.” Philippe’s lips quirked. “And you were there, acting as my conscience.”
Without thinking, she placed her hand on his arm. “I am so thankful you decided to return home. I’ve thought of you often and wondered how you were.”
He held his hands out, palms up. “As you can see,
niña
, I am quite well.”
Maria chose that moment to enter the room. Seeing the two of them, she swayed as if in shock. Philippe was at her side instantly, and caught her arm to steady her. A slow smile lit her face as she gazed at him.
“Philippe, it truly is you.” She touched his face.
“
Si.”
He bent and kissed her cheek.
Esteban was also at her side. “Are you unwell, Mother?”
“It was seeing Philippe again, and with Angelina.” Maria swiftly gathered her composure. “I believe dinner is ready. Please, shall we all go in?”
Angeline felt Adrian’s hand cup her elbow. “Shall we?”
Dinner consisted of three types of meat and fowl and a combination of vegetables. There was a casserole of fish in a cream sauce and bowls piled high with fruit still plentiful in the southern regions of Spain. Assorted cheeses filled another plate. A light dessert pastry infused with honey and nuts rounded out the meal.
“The Christmas season is fast approaching.” Maria’s gaze swept everyone at the table. “It is my hope that you will share it with us.”
“This is the first year without my father.” Angeline spoke quietly to Adrian. His hand covered hers in a comforting gesture. She leaned toward him. “And it will be our first, together.”
He met her gaze in warm communication, then caught Maria’s attention. “We would be happy to spend the holidays here,
Dona
Maria.”
“
Gracias
, Lord Adrian.” The meal completed, Maria rose and the men came quickly to their feet. “If you will excuse me, I would check on Fernando. There is liqueur on the side bar for those of you who wish it.” She addressed Philippe. “Will you come tomorrow?”
“
Si
, I will be here.” Philippe rested Maria’s hand on his arm and escorted her to the dining room door. “Until tomorrow.”
A fire burned brightly in the large hearth. Adrian had stepped out to smoke while the other men relaxed with a drink. With Penelope and Shirley visiting quietly, Angeline wandered to one of the French doors and gazed up at the stars. Although beautiful, she missed the Texas sky.
Philippe joined her. “Angelina, I have something that was to be your mother’s. I would very much like for you to have it.” He held out his hand.
Her breath caught at the beautiful necklace lying in his palm. Made of silver, the delicate filigree glittered with diamonds set at different points. It seemed too fragile to wear. “The stars in the sky,” he said softly.
“Philippe, it is absolutely beautiful. The work is truly exquisite, but I cannot accept it.”
“If you do not, then it will stay in its velvet bag forever.” He showed no signs of relenting.
She let the shawl slip from her shoulders and presented her back for him to fasten the necklace in place. She sensed his hesitation, and then the gentle touch of his finger on her birthmark.
“An angel’s kiss,” he whispered.
“My mother called it that, too. She said an angel kissed my neck when I was born.” She pivoted and was surprised to see a flash of pain in his eyes. It disappeared almost immediately.
“Your name—Angelina—of course.” Philippe drew in a huge breath and straightened. “The necklace is beautiful on you, as I knew it would be.” He settled her shawl in place. “You must not catch cold,
niña
.” Dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead, he stepped back. “I must leave, but I will see you tomorrow.”
Angeline touched the necklace with her fingers. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Through the window, Adrian noticed
Don
Philippe approach Angeline. The sight of him placing a necklace around her neck, then adjusting the shawl on her shoulders in a protective manner, made his blood heat in anger. When the older man kissed her forehead, Adrian wanted to pummel
Don
Philippe with his fists. But he would not embarrass Angeline in that way.
The gift had stunned him. Even more astonishing was the fact she’d not objected to either the necklace or his kiss and seemed to hold a fondness for
Don
Philippe. Whatever was going on, he would put a stop to it. Crushing the cigarillo with his boot, he opened the door and stepped inside.
The ormolu clock on the mantle chimed seven times. Angeline raised her eyelids a mere slit and peeked at the window, now bright with early morning sun. It promised to be another clear winter’s day.
Crawling from beneath the heavy quilt, she padded across the room to the water closet. Even before the sun rose, Adrian had slipped from their bed, dressed, and quietly left the room.
After completing her morning ablutions, she threw the wardrobe doors wide and chose a plum-colored gown in lightweight wool. Twenty minutes later, she swept into the dining room. Expecting to see Adrian and the other men, she was surprised to find the room empty.
A selection of pastry, fruit, and cheese, along with eggs, sausages, and thick slices of ham waited on the sideboard. After deciding on toast and fruit, she seated herself and reached for the teapot. Hearing the door open, Angeline lifted her head and met Philippe’s gaze.
“You are up early,
niña
.” Philippe stepped to the sideboard and piled food on a plate, then helped himself to a cup of coffee. Taking a seat, he dug into his meal.
Angeline regarded him over the rim of her cup. After a careful check to make certain they were alone, she leaned toward him. “
Don
Philippe, there is evidence to indicate Malcolm may have escaped the fire.”
Philippe frowned. “How can that be? We saw the house burn.”
She responded in a tremulous whisper. “They did not find a body. He’s alive, I know it.”
Philippe reached across the table and touched her hand. “Then we will deal with him if it becomes necessary.”
In a voice filled with accusation, Adrian spoke from the doorway. “Is there some problem?”
Angeline’s head whipped around. Her eyes locked with Adrian’s. She knew how this must look. Michael and Esteban were beside Adrian, wearing identical expressions of surprise, confirming what she feared.
Philippe slowly withdrew his hand. “No problem, Lord Adrian, just a concern.”
Adrian’s expression heated in anger as he glared at Angeline. “It would seem you are well cared for. I shall leave you in
Don
Philippe’s capable hands.” Adrian spun on his heel and stalked off.
Esteban cleared his throat. “If you have finished with breakfast, Philippe, we have much to discuss.”
Philippe downed his coffee and rose. He sent an appraising glance at Angeline before he followed Esteban.
Angeline raised her hand. “Michael, may I have a moment?”
Rounding the table, he settled into a seat beside hers.
Angeline realized she couldn’t divulge what her conversation with Philippe had been. The fact she’d discussed Malcolm with him could only lead to unwelcome speculation. Instead, she asked, “Do you have any idea what’s troubling Adrian?”
Michael hesitated, then said candidly, “From what I just witnessed, I would say he’s concerned about your relationship with
Don
Philippe. If I’m to be honest with you, I can understand why. You’re not a flirt, Angeline, neither do you play at making men jealous.” His gaze scanned her face. “I know you as well as anyone, perhaps better than most. I also know how you feel about Adrian. Is something amiss?”
“It’s not how it appeared.
Don
Philippe has been kind, and he knew my mother.”
Michael raised a brow. “Angeline, there’s more to it and we both know it. When you do decide to explain, it’s Adrian you should talk to.”
“Good morning.” Penelope breezed into the room, her face lit with excitement. Looking from one to the other, her smile faded. “Has something happened?”
“Nothing, my dear,” Michael reassured. Penelope’s face cleared.
“Do either of you know what day this is?” Before they could respond, Penelope continued. “It is the twentieth of December. Christmas will arrive soon. I just love everything about it, don’t you?” Penelope sank into the chair Michael held for her.
Michael grinned fondly at her. “It would be hard not to enjoy this time with you around.”
Penelope could hardly contain her enthusiasm as she turned to Angeline. “Do you think they will have a tree and such things?”
Her excitement was infectious and Angeline found her own rising. “
Tio
Rafael should be here soon. We’ll ask him.”
At the sound of men’s laughter, they all looked curiously toward the door. Penelope clapped her hands in delight as Adrian, Rafael, and Frank carried in a large evergreen tree.
Penelope jumped to her feet and rushed forward. “How wonderful, how truly wonderful! I was so hoping someone would think of this.”
Rafael’s eyes filled with laughter, his appreciation for Penelope’s cheerfulness written clearly on his face. “We would not dream of disappointing you,
niña
.”
In the drawing room, Penelope circled the tree, admiring the men’s choice. “Will there be a special party to decorate it?” Penelope’s eager gaze found Rafael.
His response encompassed everyone. “There are many things we do to celebrate. We will gladly share them with you. Our tradition is that Mother hangs the first of the decorations. On
Nochebuena,
you would call it Christmas Eve, we light the candles and place them on the tree.”
Adrian, buried in the thick branches as he supported the tree, stuck his head out. “Unless I’m to hold this throughout the holiday, perhaps we should set it to the cross boards.”
The men struggled with the large tree as they nailed it to the wooden stand. Long branches stretched out in all directions.
“It’s a beautiful tree.” Angeline recalled other Christmases spent at Ashley Manor. Noticing Adrian on the other side of the evergreen, she hesitantly moved to his side and slipped her arm through his, then felt him exhale in a long sigh.
He’d acted like an ass. The confusion on her face when he’d rebuked her made Adrian realize his mistake. He’d never felt jealousy over any woman. With Angeline, the intensity of his emotions, fueled by the fear he might lose her, had both surprised and startled him. The knowledge she was not legally his wife had raised concerns about her relationship with
Don
Philippe. There was something between them. What it was, he didn’t know. It was far too soon for them to have developed the kind of attachment they seemed to have for one another.
To distract himself from his dark thoughts, Adrian kept his gaze on the tree. “Do you enjoy Christmas, Angeline?”
She sent a glance in his direction. “Very much. As this is our first together, it’s all the more special.”
“So it is, my sweet.”
Impulsively, and in lieu of apologizing, Adrian bent and placed a kiss on her lips.
Fernando studied the man who waited near the door. It had been a long time, and Philippe had changed significantly. “Come closer.”
Philippe settled in the chair next to the chaise. “It is good to see you again,
Don
Fernando.”
“I have thought often of you and wondered at your whereabouts.” Fernando noticed Philippe’s gaze blur as if in some memory, then refocus and meet his.
“I have traveled extensively, but I am back now.”
“And do you plan to stay?” There was something in Philippe’s demeanor Fernando recognized, because he possessed it himself. They were both strong, determined men, but Philippe was also dangerous. Of this, Fernando was certain. It was in Philippe’s eyes, the way he moved. He would be a formidable adversary.
Philippe inclined his head. “That is what I plan. There is much work to be done to make my family home what it once was.” He straightened, the strong line of his jaw tight. “I wish to thank you for caring for the hacienda and lands after my father’s death. I did not know or I would have returned then. I owe you a great debt.”
“
De nada
, my son. In their different ways, Esteban and Rafael are both excellent managers.” Fernando eyed Philippe. “Have you met my granddaughter?”
“
Si
. One could almost believe it was Franchesca, but then you notice the little differences, the things that make her unique.” Philippe’s expression softened. “She is someone to be proud of,
Don
Fernando.”
Surprised at Philippe’s response, Fernando studied him for a moment. “I am pleased you like her. I will admit I did not know what to expect when I learned of her existence. I have not had much time with her as yet, but she is as passionate as her mother was.”
“How did you come to hear of her? Were you seeking Franchesca?” Philippe’s gaze met Fernando’s.
“My sons wished to reunite us before I left this earth. They traveled to England in search of Franchesca, and received a letter along the way from a solicitor in England. The letter informed them of Franchesca’s death, and the existence of a granddaughter.” He sighed, drew in a breath. “I am an old man, Philippe. I wanted to see her before I died.”
Fernando’s voice broke in a fit of coughing. He wiped his mouth with a cloth and rasped, “Apparently there is one who wishes to gain access to money and properties through her. Though not at all clear to me, he was hindered in his attempt. It is believed he will try again. If he does, I want him stopped.”
“I can assure you he will be.” Philippe’s expression grew cold and unreadable.
“You have changed, Philippe.” Fernando surveyed the man he’d once known. “I always knew you to be a good man, and an honest one, but I was never certain as to the amount of strength you possessed, especially as you let Franchesca go.”
Philippe’s face tightened. “How much strength do you believe it took to let her go,
Don
Fernando?” His voice was ominously calm. “I was raised to respect both you and my father, but I say this now, do not doubt that letting her go was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. I would make the same decision if I believed it was what she truly wanted. Do not question me again on this,
Don
Fernando, for I have said all I will.” Philippe pinned him with his gaze.
Fernando spoke slowly. “Angelina’s marriage to Lord Windsford is not legal, Philippe. Would you consider taking her as your wife? It would—”
“Enough,” Philippe shouted as he erupted in anger. “Not one more word.”
Surprised at the ferocity in the younger man, Fernando responded carefully, “As you wish.”
Philippe’s hands slowly unclenched. “I do not want to tire you. If I may, I will return another time.”
“You are always welcome and do not need an invitation.” Fernando leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. “I will rest for a while.”
Alone again, Fernando opened his eyes and gazed out the window. He had hoped to convince Philippe to take Angelina to wife. In doing so, Fernando would have seen his plans come to fruition. Philippe’s adamant refusal had ended the discussion, for now.
Fernando was tired, and nearing the end of his life. But he was not dead yet.