The Solemn Bell (13 page)

He pulled her around an entryway table in the center of the space, careful not to let her crash into what she imagined to be a very costly piece of furniture. The room was cool, and smelled of lemon wax. When his hand left her elbow, she stilled.

“Your coat, Angelica.” He slipped it from her shoulders. The thick wool and high, furred collar had been almost like a layer of armor. Without it, she felt exposed and vulnerable.

She hoped she looked all right. Captain Neill had assured her she was beautiful, but he’d said that even when she wore threadbare, out-of-fashion frocks and long, ragged hair hanging halfway down her back.
 

Today, her dress hung in a straight, narrow silhouette—the style of the moment—in a color Magda had called ‘dusty blue’. Angelica did not want to look like she needed a good polishing, but everyone in the dress shop had said it was very becoming.
 

Captain Neill took her hat and gloves, but what he did with them, she did not know. Likely, he handed them over to a footman, who silently gawked at her. She was a fool to think there wouldn’t be servants stationed at every corner. A large house would need dozens of them.

He was at her side again, touching her elbow, and directing her through the entrance hall. Back home, Angelica could count footsteps or paces, and gauge by sound where things were. Everything echoed here, bouncing off the cold, hard, tidy furnishings. She was going to be perpetually lost, tripping on stairs and walking into walls. Ending up in rooms she had no idea how to get out of.

They left the foyer and made their way to a drawing room. It smelled like potpourri and maybe just a hint of dog urine. Her first footsteps met hardwood, creaking out their arrival. A dog barked and a chair shifted. Captain Neill dropped her arm.

A young woman’s voice exclaimed, “Brody!” The girl moved toward him, but abruptly stopped. “Oh…”

“M.R., this is Angelica Grey. Miss Grey is a very dear friend,” he said, carefully. “Angelica, this is my sister, Mary Rose.”

Angelica smiled. “How do you do?”

Mary Rose Neill said nothing. She might have put her hand out, or she might have pulled a face. Angelica had no idea, so she merely stood there stupidly.

After an awkward moment, Captain Neill put his hand to her elbow again. He guided her between a side table and what might have been a potted palm. His voice sounded strained as he whispered, “How should I introduce you?”

“I find it’s easier if people introduce themselves, so that I can come to know their voices.”

He pulled her back toward the room. Angelica hoped she wasn’t going to spend the entire week getting hauled around by her arm. Surely, it would tear from its socket.
 

The soles of her shoes touched the edge of a thick carpet. She’d have to remember not to trip over it, in future.
 

Captain Neill walked further into the room. “Marcus, meet Miss Grey.”

The corresponding voice was warm, friendly, and perhaps a bit amused at his brother’s discomfort. “How do you do, Miss Grey? I’m Marcus Neill, Brody’s brother.”

Angelica smiled. “How do you do, Mr. Neill?”

Before they had time to strike up a word of conversation, Captain Neill pulled her across the expanse of carpet to a space near the windows. The sunlight warmed Angelica’s face. She stood for a moment, hands at her side. Then, he cleared his throat and said, “Mother, I’d like to present Miss Grey.”

The woman was seated. The woman
remained
seated. She merely lifted her chin in Angelica’s direction. “Miss Grey.”

Angelica resisted the urge to curtsey. She imagined his mother to be a very beautiful woman with hair that had once been the color of his, only now flecked with grey in middle age. Her eyes would be hard, and her mouth would be firm, downturned in displeasure. Mrs. Neill was not impressed with Angelica Grey.

Captain Neill helped her to a seat on the sofa. It was springy, soft. Surely, it was comfortable, but Angelica sat rigid. She could not be at ease. Her mouth was dry, yet when Mrs. Neill offered tea, she declined. Her hands would shake too badly, and she’d make an idiot of herself by spilling it.
 

No one knew what to say to her. She didn’t know what to say to them.
 

Suddenly, the dog leapt into her lap.
 

“Oh, hullo doggie!” Thankful for a distraction, Angelica stroked its fluffy fur. It was small and fussy—a spoiled lapdog that leaned up to lick her mouth.

“Clarence, no!” Captain Neill swatted at it. “No, Clarence.”

She wiped her lips with her hand. “It’s all right. I like dogs.
Yes-I-do, yes-I-do!
” She stroked Clarence’s short, fuzzy, desperately panting muzzle. He went mad, squeaking and yipping, and rolling over in her lap for belly rubs.

While she entertained the dog, the Neill family fell into conversation, happily ignoring her. Angelica understood—it was awkward to meet anyone for the first time, let alone a random blind woman brought home by one’s brother. She suspected Captain Neill was somewhat…unpredictable…and, perhaps, unreliable. When he showed up with her, she was just another one of his larks. Not to be taken seriously. So, she was happy to play with Clarence, who seemed happy enough to play with her.
 

As the afternoon passed, Angelica felt Mrs. Neill’s eyes on her, always watching. If Angelica asked a question, gave an answer, or opened her mouth at all, Captain Neill’s mother judged her words.

Angelica made certain she kept her hands still while she spoke, and did not fidget or sway as she listened to the conversation around her. Blind people sometimes moved erratically—most did not even realize they were doing it, or that other people did
not
do it.
 

As a girl, her governess had broken her of the habit, but when Angelica was very nervous, she sometimes relapsed. Rocking back and forth was not acceptable behavior for sighted people, and she did not want to draw attention to her weakness, especially with Mrs. Neill looking for any reason to discredit Angelica’s place at her son’s side.

How unfortunate that Angelica felt the need to be on guard. That these people were enemies, out to oppose her happiness. But, perhaps that was only natural. She wondered what her own family would have thought if she’d brought Captain Neill home to meet them.
 

They’d likely be cautious and concerned about her welfare—were his attentions genuine and honorable? Did he have her best interests at heart? Freddie would have antagonized him the way overprotective brothers always did, but in the end, they’d grow to become friends. Her mother would have fed him cakes and fawned over him. Father would have chiefly wanted to know how the man intended to support his daughter, because her family would settle for nothing less than matrimony for their beloved Angelica.
 

She never understood just how much she missed her old life until she spent an afternoon with the Neills.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

She was tired, stressed—he could tell by the subtle sag of her shoulders, and the way she kept rubbing her eyes. Brody had never seen Angelica pick at her face and retreat into herself, but, then again, he’d never seen her in a room full of highly-strung, blabbering people.

His family could be overbearing. Intimidating. Mother was icy, even on her best days, and Mary Rose would gladly trample anybody to remain the center of attention. Marcus kept to himself, and Father was mostly absent. Brody hovered somewhere in the middle of it all, and understood how a woman like Angelica—accustomed to living in quiet solitude—could be cowed.

They were a lot to take in all at once. Perhaps she needed a rest.

He touched her arm, drawing her attention away from the dog. “Would you like me to show you to your room, Angelica?”

“Yes, thank you. That would be lovely.”

They stood, and she took his arm. He knew she hated being led around, but there was nothing for it. Until she learned the place, she would have to put her pride away, and rely on his guidance.

Brody helped her navigate the furniture and the dog, who followed at her feet. She’d made one friend, at least. With Clarence nipping at her heels, she would get no peace. The others watched them in careful silence. Even the servants stared in wide-eyed curiosity as he brought her upstairs.

No one knew what to make of her. She was beautiful, of course. She was clever, when he could get her to speak. But she was painfully shy, and he didn’t know how she would survive a week in the Neill household. Angelica Grey needed to come out of her shell.

He hadn’t told Mother he was bringing a guest—he so loved to shock the old girl!—but the maids worked quickly. Angelica been given a good room, and her things unpacked and put away.
 

As he showed her around the room, she touched everything, trying to acclimate herself with the space. She studied the distance from the door to the bed, from the bed to the wardrobe, to the fireplace, the dressing table, and then back again. In time, he hoped she would be comfortable here.

“I thought you could use some time alone,” he said, watching her work.

She paused by the window, pressing her palm to the warmed pane. “I’ve embarrassed you…”

“Not at all! My girl, you were fantastic. Damned Marcus couldn’t take his eyes off you. And Mother, well, don’t worry about her. She needs time to warm up to you, but you’ll thaw her. And Mary Rose—”

“Hates me. I can tell. She hardly had one friendly word to say the entire time.”

“She’s a spoiled child,” he told her. “She pouts when she doesn’t get her way.”

Angelica turned in his direction, her eyes clamped shut. “But it’s
her
birthday, Brody. She deserves to be spoiled, to be the center of everyone’s attention. I don’t want to take any of that away from her.”

“I have a right to bring you here. This is my home as much as it is hers, and they’ll just have to get used to you.” He crossed the carpet to pull her into his arms. Her back was rigid, braced against his touch. Brody wanted to kiss all of that tension, that nervous apprehension out of her mind and out of her body, but this wasn’t the time for that. “This is difficult for you, I know. I don’t like it any more than you do, but please try. If my family suspects for one minute that you’re here under duress…”

“I’m not under duress. I came willingly. You’re the one who is stuck with me.”

He smiled. Brody
was
stuck with her, but happily so. She’d been a marvel last night, making love to him like no other woman had ever done. Taking him, and driving him to pleasure until he thought he would die. She was good. He’d be a fool to cast such a lover aside.

Jealousy’s forked tongue licked at the back of his mind, but Brody fought to push it away. Although he loved what she’d done, he hated that another man taught her to do it. That another man had first known the feeling of her hips rising up to meet his. But, if Angelica could look past the fact that he too had been careless and cavalier with his body in the past, then Brody could offer her the same respect.

“You’re my guest for the week. Sleep late, loaf about, and please yourself. All I ask is that, when we’re together, you make an effort to get on with my family.” He kissed her forehead, which seemed to surprise her. “Now I have to go downstairs and be asked a hundred uncomfortable questions about us. I thought I’d spare you that, at least.”

“Thank you.”

He kissed her again, for good measure. She couldn’t be flinching at his touch in front of the others. They’d sniff out her deception in an instant. “If I’m not back before then, I’ll send a maid up to help you dress for dinner. You’ll hear the gong.”

***

As soon as he stepped through the drawing room doorway, Mary Rose pounced. “Brody, you have got to let me in on the joke. Did you lose a bet or something?”

She clung to him, eyes bright with childish malice. He resisted the urge to shake her off. “I would have lost my life if it wasn’t for Angelica. She rescued me after my crash, and kept me safe until I could go for help.” His sister blinked up at him, blankly. She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “My car crash—surely you remember. I was in hospital…the Bentley ruined…”

She shrugged, and he rolled his eyes.

“Never mind. Just know that I owe her my life.”

Mother frowned, picking at Clarence’s fur from where Angelica had mussed it. “Surely, you can’t owe her
that
much. I don’t see how a blind girl could save anyone, when she cannot even cross the room by herself.”

“She’s quite capable, I assure you.”
 

Brody looked to Marcus, waiting for him to toss his opinion into the ring. His brother was the only one who knew the truth. The only one to visit him in that grim hospital, to watch him sweat and shake as the morphine ripped its way out of his system. He had told him about her—when he was well enough to speak. Marcus was the only one who understood how much Angelica meant to him.

His brother shrugged, a whiskey glass poised at his mouth. “If Brody likes her…”

“Oh, what does Brody know about anything?” Mary Rose asked, laughing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with a girl.”

“Exactly!” Brody argued. “If I like her enough to bring her here, she’s obviously very important to me. And I’d appreciate it if you made an effort to make her feel welcome. She’s nervous enough as it is without you lot bearing down on her!”

Mother looked up from the dog. “Your temper, Broderick. Please! I don’t know why you suddenly seem to care so much about everything. I thought we were well past your days of angry outbursts and tantrums. Have you been seeing your doctor? God knows we pay enough for him…”

Now that he’d actually begun to feel things again, he could no longer stagger around in a morphiated euphoria, happy to ignore the world around him. The old Brody wouldn’t have stirred if the house fell in on top of him, but, clear-headed, he sat up and took notice. Sadly, he did not always like what he saw.

“I’m not going back to that damned doctor,” he argued. “I’m better now.”