Forbidden Angel

by Sandra Lea Rice

  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.

  Chapter 38

  In the side garden near the ornamental fishpond, Angeline sat sunning herself. A book lay open beside her on the marble bench. Although a bright, clear day, the sun held little warmth and none penetrated to heat her chilled bones. Her thoughts were just as bleak.

  At the sound of a door closing, she raised her head. Philippe strode across the bricked walkway toward the barns. When he noticed her, he changed direction and came her way.

  Dropping his hat on the bench beside her, he knelt. “What is troubling you, niña?”

  Angeline swiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m not truly his wife, Philippe. I didn’t know my name was not Ashley when we married. Now, there doesn’t seem to be a way to make it right.”

  Philippe handed her a handkerchief. “And you wish to make this marriage right?”

  “I love him. I always have,” she said simply. “If we hadn’t come back, I would be living in America as his wife. But I wanted to find my mother’s family, and then to hear Don Fernando admit he was wrong.”

  “Niña, I appreciate your desire to right the wrong you feel was done, but you must realize it might not be possible. Don Fernando is a determined man, and never does he reverse his decisions. Your mother understood what he might do, but she chose to follow her heart. Do you not see there may be no battle to fight?”

  Taking her hand in his, he stressed, “I would not have acted in that way, but that was the choice Don Fernando made. When we make decisions, it is best to first consider the consequences and whether they are those we can accept. If they are, then we continue, but if not . . .” He shrugged.

  He lifted her chin and met her gaze. “I also made the decision to let her go, knowing I must live with that choice. But I loved her and wanted her happiness.”

  “I know she was your wife, and yet you put her happiness above yours, knowing you could never . . .” She dabbed at her tears with the handkerchief. “You gave up far more than she. I don’t know how she could do that to you.”

  He leaned forward. “Do not be angry with her. Life is hard at times, and Franchesca believed in living life to the fullest. That is part of what made her so very special to those who knew her.”

  “Don Philippe, if I might interrupt?” At the sound of Adrian’s angry voice, Philippe and Angeline both looked up quickly.

  Philippe rose, placed his hat on his head, and faced Adrian. “You wish to speak to me?”

  Adrian stiffened, then blinked. Angeline saw recognition fill his eyes. “Yes, Don Philippe, I do.” His eyes narrowed. “Or should I say, El Cazador?”

  Philippe braced his feet and eyed Adrian carefully. “We are one and the same, Lord Adrian.”

  Adrian’s gaze flicked to Angeline and realization flared in his eyes.

  Angeline bounded to her feet. “Please don’t hurt each other, I couldn’t bear it,” she pleaded.

  Philippe’s gaze swept over Angeline. “I will do nothing, niña. I told you I would not hurt you again.” Philippe sought Adrian’s gaze. He held his arms away from his sides to indicate he would not reach for a gun.

  Adrian stared at Angeline, a look of bewilderment crossing his face. “So, this is what’s between you? I knew there was something.”

  Angeline stepped closer to Adrian and gripped his forearms. “He saved me from Malcolm and returned me to you. He told me who he was and how he had loved my mother. I couldn’t betray him, Adrian, please understand. I knew he presented no further danger to any of us.”

  Adrian shrugged away her hands. “You almost died. Am I to forget that?”

  Philippe swung around to Angeline. “Almost died? I should not have left you. Better I had faced these men then leave you to die.”

  “But I didn’t die, Philippe, and neither did you,” Angeline admonished.

  Adrian glanced from one to the other. “It was all there, everything, right in front of me. I chose not to see what it was, Angeline, because I believed you would be truthful with me.” He turned away only to spin back around and confront them. “You trusted him,”—he pointed at Philippe—“more than you trusted me!” He threw his hands out in anger.

  “No.” Angeline shook her head. “You’re wrong. I trusted in you, Adrian, in your love for me. I trusted you to comprehend once I could tell you the truth. I believed we,”—she motioned between the two of them with her hand—“were strong enough to overcome anything, that you knew I would never jeopardize what we have.”

  Adrian searched her expression.

  She had made the choice to protect Philippe. Now, she could only watch as anger and hurt played out on Adrian’s face.

  Adrian dropped his head, rested his hands on his hips, and breathed in deeply, letting it slide out slowly. When he glanced up, he looked directly at Philippe.

  “I don’t like or trust you. For Angeline’s sake, I hope that changes. Given the chance, I would have killed you, and might still if you disappoint her.” Adrian’s gaze rested on Angeline for an instant, then returned to Philippe. “But I’m also grateful to you. I know only too well what Malcolm is capable of.”

  “I understand, but just so you know, Lord Adrian, should you hurt or disappoint her, I will finish you.” With a last look at Angeline, Philippe spun on his heel and marched off.

  Adrian drew Angeline into his arms. “I’m sorry, my love. This has been difficult for you, hasn’t it?” He held her tightly. “I want you to remember one thing.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “There is nothing you can’t tell me or talk to me
about.”

  Angeline, resplendent in a gown of ruby-red silk, stood with her arm through Adrian’s. A satin sash encircled her just below her breasts, while the gown fell in soft folds over her slightly rounded belly. Adrian’s formal black attire, with his gray and silver waistcoat and snowy white, ruby-embellished cravat, provided an elegant contrast.

  She felt Adrian’s warm regard and lifted her face to meet his eyes. What she saw, riding in the blue depths, robbed her of breath.

  Angeline turned just as Penelope flung her arms wide, a brilliant smile encompassing all those present.

  “Isn’t this the most wonderful time of year? You can just feel the holiday spirit in the air,” Penelope enthused.

  Rafael laughed. “If we had not, then we most certainly would by now. You have enough excitement for us all.”

  Boxes of beautiful blown-glass ornaments were carried in and placed by the tree. Evergreen garlands hung over the doorways with fruits, red peppers, and other inviting things scattered throughout.

  Frank and Shirley, having been invited to join in the festivities, sat together on a settee enjoying the warmth from the fire burning brightly in the hearth.

  “These next few days are full of pleasurable events.” Esteban swept his hand to encompass the room and all its holiday bounty.

  Michael dipped his head to Penelope. “I suspect you would find something to enjoy in most things.” She turned her laughing gaze on him.

  Angeline tugged on Adrian’s arm and whispered, “Do you think there’s an attraction between Michael and Penelope?”

  Adrian grinned. “I’m certain of it.”

  “Our mother will be here shortly to hang the first ornament. Food will be set out on the side table for all to partake at your leisure,” Esteban announced.

  “I have something for you, sweetheart,” Adrian whispered softly. “This was to be a Christmas present, but I think you should have it now.”