by Bobbi Smith
“Good evening, Mr. Marsden. Come in,” the tall, distinguished, gray-haired servant greeted him warmly as he held the door wide.
“Good evening, Robert,” he returned as he stepped into the spacious marble-tiled, two-story foyer.
“If you’ll make yourself comfortable in the parlor, sir, I’ll inform Miss Elizabeth that you’ve arrived.”
“Thank you.” Michael moved with familiar ease into the parlor. He smiled to himself with confidence as he settled in on the sofa to await Elizabeth’s entrance.
“Hello, Michael.” Elizabeth spoke as she appeared in the doorway.
“Elizabeth.” With all the gallantry of an ardent suitor, he came to his feet and crossed the room to take her hand as she moved forward. “You look lovely.” Raising her hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss upon it.
Elizabeth nearly swooned at his display. Before her father’s death she’d been courted by a few young men, but none had had the intensity of Michael. She lifted her gaze to his and was spellbound by the heated look in his blue eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat.
Blanche and Sarah joined them then, shattering the spell Michael had been weaving around her.
“Good evening, ladies.” He charmed them both with a wide smile.
Blanche returned his smile with a flustered one of her own and Sarah blushed prettily.
“It’s good to see you again, Michael. I trust you’ll take good care of my niece tonight?”
“Have no doubts, Miss Windsor. No harm will ever come to Elizabeth as long as she’s with me,” he vowed in all honesty. He couldn’t afford to let anything happen to her. “Shall we go?”
“Yes, I’m quite ready. All I need is my wrap.”
Robert appeared with the necessary garment, and Michael took it from him and slipped it around her shoulders. Elizabeth couldn’t suppress the excitement that shivered through her at his touch. They bid everyone good night, and Blanche and Sarah watched from the doorway as the couple climbed into the carriage and drove away. It was only after they turned back inside that they noticed nine-year-old Angela, nicknamed Angel because of her angelic appearance with her pale gold hair and perfect features, standing by herself watching them from the far end of the hall.
“Angel? What’s the matter?” Sarah asked, realizing for the first time that she hadn’t come to see Elizabeth leave on her date. “Why didn’t you come see Elizabeth in her new dress? She looked so pretty!”
Angel was generally a happy child, always ready for fun and excitement, but tonight as she came forward for the first time, she was frowning darkly and her green eyes, usually sparkling with merriment and mischief, were stormy with turbulent emotion.
“I didn’t come out, because I don’t like Michael Marsden. I didn’t want to be around him,” Angel declared belligerently. In the way of young children, she didn’t know why she despised her sister’s suitor, she just knew that she did.
“You don’t like Michael?” Sarah repeated, staring at her aghast. Michael was handsome and rich. She could find no flaw in his character for he had been nothing but kind to them from his very first visit.
“Angel, I can’t believe you said that,” Blanche agreed, distressed by the child’s reaction. “Michael is considerate and thoughtful, and he obviously cares a great deal for Elizabeth.”
“I don’t care. I don’t like him, and I don’t trust him,” Angel persisted, a stubborn tilt to her chin.
“But why?” Sarah pressed, knowing it was unusual for her little sister to be so outspoken in her dislike of someone.
“I don’t know why. There’s just something about him. He’s not nice, and I don’t like the way he looks at Elizabeth.” At nine, there was no way Angel could put into words the feelings she had about Michael. She only knew that she saw a strange hunger in his gaze and sometimes a shadow of meanness there, too. She wanted to stay as far away from him as she could.
“Michael looks at your sister that way because he finds her attractive,” Blanche lectured. “It could be he’s falling in love with her, and I can’t think of anything that would please me more.”
“But—” The thought of his marrying her sister frightened Angel. She loved Elizabeth. Elizabeth had raised her since their mother died six years ago, and she didn’t want to see her big sister hurt by a man she instinctively knew wasn’t what he appeared to be.
“Hush, now. I’ll hear no more disparaging things about him.” Blanche defended the man she thought to be perfect. “You see to it that you behave when he’s around.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Angel replied, realizing it was useless to argue. Chastened, but not convinced, she disappeared upstairs to her room without another word.
The evening passed in what seemed the blink of an eye to Elizabeth. She had never had such a wonderful time. With Michael by her side, she felt beautiful. He was attentive to her every need, anticipating her desires even before she knew what they might be. When they danced, the feel of his strong arms about her made her feel feminine and cherished. She was in heaven. If there were whispers of disapproval over her having returned to the social scene too soon, Elizabeth was unaware of them. She was too enthralled with her escort to pay attention to anything else.
Michael knew his victory was within reach as he escorted Elizabeth out to his carriage at the end of the evening. There was no doubt in his mind that she was totally captivated, and he knew the time had come to declare himself. He could see no reason to wait. The sooner he took her to bed, the sooner she’d be carrying his son. As he helped her into the waiting conveyance, his hands lingered possessively at her waist. After giving directions to the driver to take the long way home, Michael climbed inside and sat down beside her.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked as he boldly took her hand in his and drew her near.
Elizabeth sighed, “Oh, yes! I had a wonderful time. Thank you.” Michael was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man, and she knew in that moment that she would love only him for the rest of her life.
Michael read her emotions as easily as he would read a child’s primer.
“Oh, my darling,” he murmured, taking her in his arms. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted to do this all night long.” As the carriage rumbled off into the night, he held her close and kissed her. His mouth covered hers with expert precision as he deliberately sought to rouse her to a fever pitch. Parting her lips, he deepened the kiss as his hand moved to caress the soft swell of her breast.
Elizabeth stiffened at this unexpected intimacy, but then relaxed as shivers of delight coursed through her. This was Michael, the man she’d been waiting for all of her life. She loved him. Looping her arms about his neck, she returned his kiss full measure. She wanted to be close to him. She’d wanted this for ever so long. When Michael drew back, Elizabeth blinked up at him through passion-dazed eyes.
“Michael?”
“Ah, sweetheart,” Michael told her huskily, playing the tortured lover. “I’ve waited so long to hold you and kiss you as a man who loves a woman should. But I don’t want to press you . . .”
At his use of the word “love,” she smiled up at him. “Do you, Michael? Do you love me?” she asked eagerly in all innocence.
“What do you think, my darling?” he returned, allowing her to believe that he did. He pulled her back against him and claimed her mouth once more to further convince her. If he had to act like a besotted suitor to get his hands on her fortune, he would.
Happiness surged through Elizabeth. Michael loved her and she loved him! When they finally broke apart many heated kisses later, Elizabeth knew she had to tell him that she felt the same way.
“I love you, too, Michael.”
“Elizabeth, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. Marry me and make me the happiest man in the world.” His words were no lie. He would be the happiest man in the world if she married him—especially if she got pregnant right away.
“Yes, yes! Oh, yes! I’ll marry you!
There’s nothing I want more than to be your wife.”
Michael kissed her deeply and with great feeling. His victory was complete! She was his! He exalted in her surrender to him. The knowledge that she was his for the taking filled him with a great sense of power. It had all been so easy. Now, all he needed was a son . . .
When he ended the embrace some time later, he continued to hold her close as he said, “I’ll have to speak to your aunt, of course.”
“Soon, I hope,” Elizabeth said without reserve as she nestled in his arms. She was ecstatic. This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. This was the man who would take care of her, love her, cherish her and make her happy for all eternity. Her life couldn’t have been more perfect at that moment.
“I’ll wake her tonight, if you like,” Michael teased, “but I think tomorrow morning might be better, don’t you?”
“Tomorrow will be perfect,” she agreed, pressing a kiss to his lips. She felt warm and safe with him. This was love as she’d always known it would be.
The following day, Blanche, of course, offered no objection to Michael’s proposal; and, at his insistence, the wedding was scheduled to take place a scant three months later. It was to be a lavish affair. Blanche and Sarah were caught up in the excitement of the planning. The arrangements were made, and a white satin gown beaded with pearls and suitable for a princess was ordered for Elizabeth. Blanche was determined to give her niece everything that she, herself, had never had. Elizabeth would be the prettiest bride Philadelphia had ever seen.
Only Angel remained distant and aloof from the preparations for the coming celebration. She could find no joy in the thought of Elizabeth marrying Michael Marsden. Her hatred of the man was reinforced late one afternoon just three weeks before the wedding when she started downstairs unexpectedly and came upon Celia, the maid, in the front foyer with Michael. Angel stopped where she was and remained unseen in the shadows. It was obvious that Celia thought she and Michael were alone for she smiled up at him quite brazenly.
“Michael,” Celia cooed. “It’s so good to see you.”
Angel frowned at the servant’s familiarity with her sister’s fiancé. Robert always referred to Michael as Mr. Marsden whenever he addressed them. She grew even more worried when he responded to Celia with a smile.
“Hello, Celia.”
“Everyone’s upstairs right now,” she told him, giving him a coy look.
“Oh?” Without another word, Michael drew the maid into a corner where he thought no one could see them and kissed her.
Angel was outraged. She turned and rushed back to her sister’s room wanting to tell her what she’d seen.
“Elizabeth!” Angel hurried into the bedroom to find her sister sitting at her dressing table brushing out her hair.
“What is it, sweetie?” she asked. Elizabeth adored Angel, and she knew she was going to miss her after she married and went to live in the big, new house Michael had bought for them.
“It’s Michael—”
“Michael? Yes, I know, he’s here already. I was just finishing my hair before I went down to see him.”
“No—you don’t understand.” Angel was upset and it showed in her distressed manner.
Elizabeth put her hairbrush aside and turned to regard her little sister with concern. “What’s happened? What don’t I understand?”
“I just saw him downstairs with Celia, and they were talking and . . .”
Elizabeth frowned, wondering why Angel thought this was so important. “And?”
“And . . . and he was . . . !”
“Angela!” Aunt Blanche’s voice had rung out from the doorway behind her, cutting through the conversation. “What did I tell you before?”
Angel cringed. “I was just—”
“I know what you ‘were just.’ You were just trying to cause trouble, that’s what you ‘were just’! Michael has never been anything but the perfect gentleman. If he was talking with Celia, then I’m sure there was a reason for it.”
“But, Aunt Blanche, Michael was—”
“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d act like this, trying to spoil things for your sister,” Blanche said scathingly. “If you can’t be nice, then go to your room! I’ve half a mind now not to let you attend the wedding at all.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Elizabeth put in soothingly. Angel was so young, and, having just lost their father, Elizabeth figured she was worried about losing her, too. Wanting to reassure Angel, she rose from the dressing table to go to her. “I love you, Angel, very much.”
“I know. That’s why I had to tell you about Michael. He’s not nice.”
Elizabeth stiffened at her continued protests. Trying to be understanding, she said, “I’m sorry you don’t like Michael. I wish you did. He means the world to me and we are going to be married. I’d like you to be happy for me—for us.”
Confused, Angel could only stare at Elizabeth in silence. Elizabeth waited a moment hoping for a warm response, but when there was none, she pressed a soft kiss on her sister’s cheek and left the room to go to her fiancé. Angel watched her go, wondering why she hadn’t wanted to hear the truth.
“Since you didn’t see fit to apologize, young lady,” Blanche stated firmly, “I want you to go to your room and stay there until you’re ready to tell your sister you’re sorry.”
Angel fought back the hot tears of anger and frustration as she ran out of the bedroom. She didn’t know if she could ever apologize for trying to tell Elizabeth the truth.
Chapter Two
Resplendent in her beautiful pearl-studded, lace-trimmed, white satin gown, Elizabeth truly looked like a royal princess on her wedding day. The ceremony was held in the early evening in the parlor of the Windsor mansion and a reception followed immediately thereafter. Elizabeth positively glowed with love for her new husband. Michael, too, appeared to be madly in love. He showered his bride with attention, affection, and extravagant gifts, convincing everyone that it was indeed a love match for them. Everyone, that is, except Angel.
While Blanche and Sarah were swept along in the excitement of the fairy-tale perfect wedding, Angel shared none of their joy. It was true that Angel had never seen her sister so happy, but she was still repelled by Michael. She despised him, and no matter what others might think or say, she would never forget or forgive the kiss she’d witnessed between him and Celia.
Though the reception seemed a joyful celebration, Angel couldn’t keep from worrying about Elizabeth. Michael acted like he loved her, but Angel knew better. Upset, she slipped away from the party unnoticed and ran away from the house.
The moon shone brightly, lighting Angel’s way; and without difficulty, she found the cemetery where her parents were buried. Most people would have been afraid to enter a graveyard at night, but not Angel. She had known only kindness and love from her parents, and she felt completely safe in the serenity of the park-like setting. Troubled and desperate, she dropped to her knees before their headstones and began to cry.
“Oh, Mama . . . Papa . . . I don’t know what to do,” Angel sobbed. “I don’t like him! I don’t like him at all! He’s going to hurt Elizabeth, I just know he is!”
Angel wept inconsolably before her parents’ graves, wanting to help her sister, yet not knowing how. It was late when she finally returned to the house. The reception was still going on. No one had missed her, and she was glad. She looked around hoping to see Elizabeth again.
“Sarah, where’s Elizabeth?” Angel asked as she sought out her sister.
“Didn’t you see them leave? They’ve gone on their honeymoon. Isn’t that romantic?” Sarah sighed dreamily, imagining the day when she would be carried off by a handsome husband of her own.
Angel struggled not to let Sarah see how deeply the news that Elizabeth was already departed upset her. There was nothing more she could do. It really was too late.
Elizabeth donned a seductive, white-lace nightgown and wr
apper and dabbed her favorite perfume at her wrists and throat as she readied herself for her wedding night. She had a general idea of what went on between a man and a woman, and she was looking forward to making love with Michael. She wanted so badly to be with him that her heart actually ached. He’d been so wonderful all night that she couldn’t wait to be in his arms, kissing him and . . .
“My darling, are you ready?” Michael asked as he knocked lightly on the door that led to the sitting room of their honeymoon suite.
“Oh, yes,” she answered eagerly, her eyes shining in eager anticipation of the night to come.
Michael had no such romantic illusions. At last they were married. All that remained was getting her pregnant. He knew Elizabeth was a virgin, and the prospect of initiating her to carnal delights did not appeal to him. He liked his women to be experienced. Still, Michael mused, it will not be too unsavory a duty, and then there is the matter of the money . . . He supposed a man could do anything as long as the price was right. He entered the bedroom wearing only a heavy, silk dressing gown to find his bride standing in the middle of the room.
“You look beautiful, Elizabeth,” Michael murmured as he turned down the lamp and moved to take her in his arms.
“I wanted to be ... for you.”
Michael lifted her easily and laid her upon the bed, then stretched out beside her. He dispensed with the small talk and immediately began to kiss her and caress her.
Elizabeth wanted to be wooed, to be caught up in the excitement of the moment, but Michael gave her no time to relax and enjoy his touch. He had one thing and one thing only on his mind and that was to get her with child.
Elizabeth felt the initial stirrings of desire and grew anxious to know love’s full pleasure. Michael, however, was unconcerned with satisfying her. He stripped away the precious garments she’d chosen with such care and then shed his own dressing gown. Despite the look of slight distress on her face, he did not pause.
