Forbidden Angel

by Sandra Lea Rice

  Angeline shook her head. “You’re mistaken. I would know if this was the man who had taken me.” She glanced around, noticing all eyes on Philippe. She felt Philippe’s hands on her shoulders as he turned her to face him.

  Philippe’s gaze held resolution. “No more secrets, niña.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter to me whether it’s you or Windsford or,”—Malcolm tipped his head at Michael—“the good Captain who sired the brat. All that matters is I have a paper stating she’s mine. That makes me entitled to quite a lot, I would say.”

  “I would see this paper.” Don Fernando held out his hand, drawing Malcolm’s attention.

  Malcolm handed it to Fernando. “Don’t think of destroying the note. These fine men of the law have seen it.”

  “Do not add insult to your other atrocities,” Fernando threatened.

  “The letter is signed by Elizabeth Ashley, William’s wife.” Malcolm’s lips raised in contempt. “Before I marry Lady Angeline, we’ll discuss settlements and dowries.” Malcolm eyed Fernando. “She can spend all the time here with you she wants, of course that’s after the honeymoon.” Malcolm turned a lecherous gaze on her.

  Adrian renewed his struggles. Angeline swung her gaze toward him, then, reassured they held him tightly, returned her attention to Malcolm. When she started to object, Philippe laid a hand on her arm.

  Philippe’s voice rose above the chaos. “She had no right to promise anything where Angelina is concerned, and neither did William Ashley.”

  Malcolm whirled to face Philippe. “Of course they did. If you think to stake your claim, Cazador, you—”

  In the blink of an eye, Philippe grabbed him by the throat and shook him. “If you do not watch your filthy mouth, the words you have just uttered will be your last.” He squeezed harder. Malcolm’s eyes bulged, his face splotched purple. When Malcolm finally nodded, Philippe shoved as he released him, sending Malcolm sprawling.

  All eyes rested on Philippe.

  “What are you saying?” Fernando demanded.

  “Neither William Ashley nor his wife had the right to pledge her to anyone.” Philippe slipped his jacket off and handed it to Rafael, then removed his tie and opened his shirt. “In my family we carry a birthmark. My father had the mark and I have it.” Philippe tilted his head to the side, revealing the small patch of discolored skin.

  Philippe approached Angeline. “Nina, I would show them your neck.” He lifted her hair away from the small mark at the side of her neck. “Franchesca called it an angel’s kiss.”

  Fernando uttered a sigh and leaned back against the lounge. “At last.”

  Angeline shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  Placing his hands on her arms, Philippe met her gaze. “I am saying that in your lifetime you have been loved by two men who would call you daughter. One who raised and loved you as his own, and one who is your true father. William was the first; I am the other.”

  Angeline’s throat tightened and her heart constricted. She spun abruptly and would have bolted, but Philippe stopped her with a sharp, “No.”

  Angeline stood trembling in front of him.

  “We do not run from things we do not like or understand. You are Cordova and Montenegro. We face what must be faced.” Philippe’s voice softened. “Is it so difficult to accept me as your father? William obviously loved you. I do not wish to take anything from that. I never planned for you to know, but you are my daughter and I love you also.” He raised her chin with a finger. “Is there nothing you can feel for me?”

  “My mother and father loved each other,” she whispered softly, confusion muddling her senses.

  “Yes, they did.”

  “Then how, why . . .?”

  “I will say only this, and the rest will stay between your mother and me. We loved each other also. There are many kinds of love, niña. When she believed she would never see William again, I wanted to show her we could be happy. That is all I will say.”

  The blood roared in her ears. “Did my father—did William know?”

  Philippe inclined his head. “I’m certain he did.”

  Angeline drew in a deep, steadying breath. “I’ve trusted you almost from the beginning. I’ve felt safe and protected by you and could never fully understand why. At first I thought it was all you’d shared with my mother, but down deep I knew there was more.”

  She stepped closer to Philippe. “I already feel love for you and now I can put a name to it. I will always think of William as my father and love him, but there is a joy in knowing who you really are.”

  Angeline slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest, heard his strong heartbeat and the comforting feel of his arms as they wrapped around her.

  Not a word was said.

  As Malcolm scrambled to gain his feet, Angeline glanced in his direction. His eyes held a feverish look, his mouth tightening to a snarl.

  “All very touching, but I will have what is coming to me,” Malcolm growled. He glared at Adrian. “If you think you’ve won, Windsford, you’re wrong.”

  Philippe handed Angeline to Adrian and moved to block Malcolm’s advance. “Yes, you will finally have what is coming to you.”

  Angeline tried to shake loose. “No, he’s not worth it,” she pleaded.

  Malcolm’s eyes widened. “Now see here, Cazador, we can work this out. If its money you want . . .” He broke off as Philippe loomed threateningly. “You won’t get away with this. There are police here.” His wild gaze darted to the two men who had accompanied him. “Do something, for God’s sake,” he shouted.

  The men glanced at Fernando, who shook his head. They turned and quietly exited the room.

  “No,” Malcolm shouted after them. “I’ve worked too hard for this, even drugged that bitch to get her to sign . . .” His eyes widened in alarm as Adrian cursed and shoved Angeline aside.

  Angeline’s breath caught as she saw the gun Malcolm now held in his hand. Prompted by fear for the two men she loved most, she pulled the small derringer from her pocket and surged forward. With the fright and anger of the last few months coming to the fore, she lifted the gun and aimed at Malcolm.

  She heard voices raised in alarm and the clatter as men rushed forward, heard Adrian’s tortured cry of, “‘No!’” From the corner of her eye, saw Philippe reach for her—as Malcolm turned the gun in her direction.

  Adrian’s earlier words of concern, her promise to him, came rushing back. Without regard for the consequences, she’d placed not only her life but the life of her unborn child in jeopardy. Malcolm’s wild gaze met hers, a frenetic light flared in his eyes. With her finger frozen on the trigger, she could only watch as he aimed at her belly. Adrian’s child. Oh, God, please no.

  The deafening sound of the blast echoed throughout the room.

  Malcolm’s eyes widened in surprise. He staggered and reached for her, then his eyes went sightless and he crumpled.

  Angeline raised her gaze to her grandfather as Don Fernando lowered a gun to his lap, then slumped back against the chaise.

  “Rafael, have the men take care of this.” Fernando waved a hand, indicating the lifeless body of Charles Malcolm. “Esteban, I am tired and need to rest. Help me to my room so I might sleep.”

  With Esteban’s help, he came slowly to his feet, then gazed at those who had watched in shock. “Cordova men have always protected their own. I have worked hard and sacrificed much to see what has finally come about. I have no regrets.”

  Maria’s gaze slid from Fernando to Angeline. “Pride can be such a foolish, costly thing.” She shook her head. “I will follow in a moment, Fernando.” She turned her back to the room.

  Jeffrey came to stand by her at the window, but she stared straight ahead. “It does not have to cost anything more, Maria,” he whispered quietly.

  Angeline looked from her grandmother to Philippe and released the gun into his waiting hand.

  “He would not have hesitated killing you, niña, for in t
he end he had nothing to lose.”

  Angeline returned her gaze to Maria. “What will happen to Don Fernando?”

  “Malcolm will just disappear. Don Fernando, although very ill, is still powerful.” Philippe glanced over her head and she turned to follow his gaze. “I believe your husband needs you.”

  Adrian stood facing the fire, his hand propped against the mantle as he leaned forward, shoulders slumped. When Angeline laid her hand on his back, he shuddered. “Adrian?”

  With a groan, he reached for her and hauled her up against him. “You could have been killed. You promised!”

  “I know, and I am so very sorry.” She slid her arms around his neck.

  “There is no life worth living without you in it, Angel.” Drawing her closer, he turned his face into her neck, and wept.

  Later, Adrian sought out Philippe. “May I have a private word with you?”

  Philippe indicated the terrace door. “As you wish.”

  Once outside, Adrian regarded Philippe. “How long have you known she was your daughter?”

  “I saw the birthmark when I gave her the necklace. I did not know before then.”

  “I hope you don’t plan on taking her from me, for that will never happen.” Adrian met Philippe’s gaze. “I don’t care about the legalities surrounding our marriage. She is my wife and will remain my wife.”

  Philippe drew in a deep breath. “I admire your loyalty to her, and I do believe you love her. I know she loves you. I told you once, as long as you take care of her and make her happy, we have no problem.” He faced Adrian. “As her father I can and will give permission for the two of you to legally wed. It will be done here before you leave.”

  A rush of relief washed through Adrian, and the tight band of fear that had wrapped around his chest eased. “I would be most grateful. She loves you, and you are always welcome at Spencer Ranch.”

  Philippe frowned. “What of her family here?”

  “This has not been an easy decision. I have responsibilities in both England and America. We will travel between the two countries. She was happy in Texas, Don Philippe. I would see her happy again.”

  Philippe stood quietly for a moment. “We also have holdings in America, both land and mines, and I have agreed to oversee them for Cordova. She carries your child, but the child is also ours. Can you accept that?”

  Adrian clasped Philippe’s hand. “Easily.”

  Fernando slipped into a coma and passed away in his sleep on Christmas night. Although Esteban and Rafael mourned the sudden loss of their father, they had been taught to manage Cordova Holdings, and with Fernando’s illness, had been doing so for the last few years. Both progressive men, Adrian knew they would take what their father had started into the future. Adrian had willingly added his offer of support.

  As the time drew near for them to leave, Angeline became quiet and withdrawn. Adrian knew it had to be bittersweet for her. She loved her new family, but if they did not leave now, she would be too far along in her pregnancy to make the trip back safely to England.

  They both wanted the child to be born at Windsford Hall. It helped when Philippe had assured her it would not be long before he followed, and promised to join her at Windsford Hall in time for the birth of their child.

  Although Jeffrey and Edward would stay in England, Penelope planned on traveling with Michael to America to meet his family. Afterward, they would visit Spencer Ranch and spend some time with Adrian and Angeline.

  The coaches waited in front of the hacienda. Angeline hugged her grandmother and kissed her cheek. “I believe you would like America, and I would love to show you where we live. Please consider it.”

  “I will, I promise. But do not forget to visit here as well. This is also your home.” Maria touched Angeline’s cheek. “Lord Adrian, you are a good man. Make her happy.”

  “I will do my very best, Dona Maria.” Adrian tucked Angeline’s arm through his and led her to the coach. His gaze flicked to his uncle as he followed Michael and Penelope to the other coach. Jeffrey glanced back at Maria, who stood watching. He gave an imperceptible nod and Maria smiled in return, then Jeffrey stepped into the coach.

  Philippe kissed Angeline’s forehead. “I will see you soon, mi vida, go with God.”

  Adrian helped Angeline into the coach, then shook Philippe’s hand. “We will see you at Windsford?” At Philippe’s nod, Adrian stepped inside and sat beside Angeline.

  As the team started forward and the coach swayed, Angeline snuggled against him. “It’s hard to believe it’s over.”

  “No, my love, it is just beginning.” Adrian ran his hand over her swollen belly and drew in a deep breath, filling his senses with the fragrance of roses, and held the familiar scent close to his heart, just as he held the woman he loved more than life itself.

  Epilogue

  Angeline lounged on a blanket near the lake at Spencer Ranch. While she cooed at her newborn son, Christian, who lay on her lap, she glanced up at Phillip Michael, her two-year-old toddler.

  Clairece and James were busy trying to skip rocks across the lake’s surface. Angeline smiled warmly at Virginia. Cortland, his head nestled in his mother’s lap, lay sleeping while Virginia played with his soft blond curls.

  With a cry of pleasure, Angeline watched Michael and Penelope approach, each carrying a little girl. At almost a year old, the twins were learning to walk. With their bright red curls dancing around their faces, they greatly resembled their mother.

  Penelope dropped down on the blanket beside Angeline and Virginia. “Their father spoils them terribly.” Her eyes sparkled to see Michael hold one of his daughters high over his head, laughing at her squeals of delight.

  Angeline settled the baby in her lap and smiled at Penelope. “Have you heard from Uncle Jeffrey? Adrian said he’s been busy.”

  “My father has begun to travel somewhat and sees my sister and her family in France on a regular basis. He’s traveled a few times to Spain on some business, although I’m not certain what it was.” Penelope looped her arms around her daughter and snuggled her.

  “There’s quite a lot to keep everyone busy with a family like this one. I would love to see Rafael and Esteban and meet Esteban’s new wife. Adrian has promised we shall go when the children are a little older.” Angeline kissed the sleeping babe’s cheek.

  “Hello, my love, we have a visitor,” Adrian announced, strolling up to the informal picnic.

  Angeline peeked past him and laughed. “Edward! How wonderful to see you. You’re becoming quite the traveler I hear, looking after things for Cordova now as well.”

  Edward beamed. “Yes I am, and I’ve come to enjoy it. They always have the most wonderful tea for me. Dona Maria sends her love, as do your uncles.”

  Edward’s gaze lit on the large pitcher of iced tea sitting on a small table.

  “You must try this tea, Edward. It has a touch of mint and is sweetened with honey,” Angeline suggested, hiding a grin.

  “I would enjoy it very much, thank you.”

  With his glass of tea, Edward settled back under a large tree in the shade. He wasn’t nearly as nervous around her as he used to be, and Angeline was happy for that. He was such a dear man. He sipped his tea and observed the children play.

  At the sound of horses, Angeline handed the baby to Adrian and jumped to her feet, running to meet their visitors. She rushed toward Philippe, throwing herself into his arms.

  Philippe hugged her and chuckled. “I have missed you too, mi vida.”

  “I know it’s only been a few short months, but it always seems much longer. Come, I want you to meet someone.” She led Philippe to where Adrian stood rocking his son, and retrieved the sleeping babe.

  “Meet your grandson, Christian.” Angeline handed the infant to Philippe.

  He held the babe and studied the little face. “Cristiano,” he whispered softly. With one finger, he gently brushed the fine, dark hair from the baby’s forehead, then bent to place a kiss on a little pink c
heek. After a moment, he gave the baby back to Angeline.

  “Two wonderful sons.” Philippe patted Adrian on the back.

  “Yes they are. Phillip Michael, come and see who’s here,” Adrian called to his oldest son who was busy chasing a duck.

  Phillip, squealing with delight, ran toward them. “Abuelo,” he shouted in Spanish.

  “Si, niño, you are learning well.” Philippe caught the little boy and tossed him high in the air. When he ruffled the child’s dark blond hair, he was rewarded with a broad smile and a show of dimples. “You are becoming such a big niño.” Philippe sat the child on his feet. Phillip ambled off after the same duck that had wandered closer for scraps of bread.

  Edward shifted his gaze from the children to encompass the people who had become like family to him, and treated him as such. Yes, life was good, he thought, taking a large swallow of the honey-sweetened tea.

  Very good indeed.