Angelina

by Janet Woods

  Rosabelle’s eyes began to glitter. “She does not have a robust appearance. Perhaps I’ve been hasty in my judgment of her. I will try and be kinder.” Mounting the spirited chestnut gelding she usually rode, Rosabelle followed after him.

  * * * *

  “William, thank you sp much; she’s so lovely.” Moonlight was a pretty creature, Angelina thought, admiring the cascading tail held high above her silver patterned rump and her high-stepping gait. Even so, she couldn’t quite conceal the panic she felt. “She’s a most wonderful and generous gift. Alas, I’ve never learnt to ride.”

  Thomas, who’d come to witness this unexpected gesture by his second son, smiled in encouragement. “Will has just said he intends to teach you, and you couldn’t have a better riding master. Go and change into your riding habit, my dear.”

  “I do not possess one.” She bit her lip when her father sighed in exasperation. “I’ve never needed one before.”

  “I’ll give you one I no longer wear.” Rosabelle shrugged. “There’s a tear in the skirt but I daresay it will do until you get one of your own.”

  “Thank you, Rosabelle.” Suspicious of her sister’s sudden change of attitude Angelina’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps morning will be a better time for my first lesson.”

  “If I’d realised you were scared of riding I wouldn’t have bothered.” Will seemed a little put out.

  “Of course I’m not scared.” Noticing the earl’s vexed frown she shrugged, admitting. “Perhaps I am a trifle nervous, I’ve only ridden on a plough horse before.”

  “There’s no need to be afraid of Moonlight.” William led the horse towards her. “Come, make her acquaintance, then when you’ve changed I’ll give you your first lesson. I promise you, you’ll be quite safe on her back.”

  Moonlight snickered softly when she stroked her velvety muzzle. Her soft eyes were ringed with dark lashes, her mane and tail flowed like spun silver in the breeze. Angelina fell instantly in love.

  In a short space of time Angelina was perched on Moonlight’s back. The red velvet habit Rosabelle had given her was worn, and stained with perspiration under the arms. Her nose wrinkled at its musty smell. The colour ill-suited her and she resolved to purchase a new outfit as soon as possible. The boots were too large, the leather stiff and cracked with age. They chaffed her calves unmercifully.

  Ignoring the discomfort she concentrated on remembering William’s instructions as he walked them up and down the carriageway. He was surprisingly patient, showing her how to hold the reins, how to set the horse in motion and rein her in. Eventually he gave her control. She found her little horse well schooled and responsive to her instructions.

  Satisfied she’d mastered the rudiments, Will smiled. “Do you feel confident enough to go for a short ride to the edge of the forest and back?”

  Angelina had thoroughly enjoyed her riding lesson. She nodded, her eyes shining. “This has been a wonderful day. Thank you for making it so.”

  William sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the pleasure her words gave him. Unlike Rosabelle she was easy to please. He stored the thought in his memory.

  He slowed to a walk when they reached the forest so he could observe her progress. She hadn’t done badly for a first lesson, but watching her forge ahead he doubted if she’d ever be a good horsewoman.

  Having grown up on the edge of the forest, William knew its paths and secrets. When Angelina disappeared from view he was annoyed because he’d told her not to go into the forest. However, she was on one of the main tracks so he saw no reason to worry. If she became lost she’d call out and he’d find her. It might teach her to heed him, and give her reason to be grateful.

  When Angelina reached a clearing where several tracks met she slowed Moonlight to a halt. Pleased with herself, she turned in the fading light, expecting William to be behind her.

  A bird flew out of a bush, making her jump. She remembered she wasn’t supposed to be in the forest and called out. “William!” She inhaled a deep steadying breath as she waited for him to answer. The forest was quiet, the sunlight that had previously dappled the forest floor in dusty shades of gold, had gone. She shivered as she turned Moonlight’s head around. She was lost.

  She took a grip on herself. All she need do was retrace her path. She’d soon find William. Ten minutes later the path narrowed as it curved downward to the left. She frowned. Surely she should be out of the forest by now.

  “William?” she whispered dejectedly. “It’s getting dark and I’m scared. Please find me.”

  An owl hooted. She shuddered as stories of goblins and evil witches came into her mind. The forest became a mass of gloomy, shifting shadows pressing in on her. Quite suddenly a horse snickered, causing her to sigh with relief.

  “William, I’m over here.” Goose-bumps prickled her skin when she received no answer. “Will?” In the shifting shadows she made out a shape coming towards her. It was not William, but the dark visage had a familiarity about it. The highwayman? Her blood ran cold when she remembered his cold eyes and his threat. Her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth and without thought she flicked the reins, sending Moonlight crashing wildly down the nearest bank.

  “Stop!”

  Even in her panic Angelina knew the voice was not William’s. There was a footfall of a horse behind her, the man was gaining on her. A hand grasped her reins and slowed her mount to a halt.

  “A few more strides and you’d have ended up in the bog.”

  “Do not kill me, sir,” she begged, cringing away from him. “My brother, the Viscount Romsey will willingly pay a ransom to get me back.”

  “Why should I want to kill or ransom you?” There was a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.

  “You’re not a highwayman then?”

  “Do I look like one?”

  She gave the man a quick glance. He was about her own age. She gave him a longer, more surprised look. “Indeed not,” she blurted out. “You look exactly like my father.”

  “Aye. There are those who say I resemble him.”

  Remembering her first meeting with William, and the disagreement he’d had with the earl, she smiled. “You must be my half-brother, Frey. I’m Angelina Wrey, and I’m glad to make your acquaintance. “

  In the descending darkness she saw a bitter smile etch Frey’s lips. “Tell me that if we meet under different circumstances and I might believe it.” He turned her horse about, starting to lead her back to the path. “What are you doing in the forest alone at this time?”

  “William was teaching me to ride. I became lost.” Her muscles were beginning to ache from the unaccustomed exercise. “He’ll be angry with me for going on ahead.”

  “If William let you go on ahead he’d have had a motive. He knows the forest almost as well as I do, and if nothing else, he’s a superb rider.” Frey suddenly grinned. “I’d best guide you out of here before it gets dark.”

  They took a twisted route through the forest. Before too long, Angelina found herself on a sloping meadow behind the stables.

  “You can go the rest of the way alone. If I run into William I’ll tell him you’re safely home.”

  She placed a hand over his to restrain him a moment. “Thank you, Frey. I hope we’ll meet again.”

  “I daresay we will.” He looked down at her hand, gave a wry smile and squeezed it. “Take care of yourself, Angelina Wrey. It would be best if you didn’t tell your family we met. They’ll not like it.”

  Her chin lifted a fraction. “I was brought up by a woman who believed people were equal in the eyes of the Lord. I’ll not allow anyone to tell me how to think, nor lower my estimation of you.” She smiled when their eyes met in an instant of rapport. “Not even you, my reluctant brother, Frey.”

  Frey inclined his head, giving a hint of a smile before turning his mount back towards the forest. She watched him go, but he didn’t turn. When she could see him no more she headed downhill towards the stables.

  * * * *

  Wil
liam was in a foul mood after spending over an hour searching the forest. Eventually, frantic with worry, he’d ridden a good horse almost to the point of exhaustion to return to home and organise a search party.

  He discovered Moonlight safely stabled for the night, Angelina with the rest of the family in the drawing room where a lively game of cards was in progress. It took every shred of willpower he possessed to return her smile when she rose from her seat and came towards him.

  “I’m so sorry I caused you inconvenience,” she apologised straight away. “It was silly of me to get lost. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “No harm done,” he grunted, longing to put his hands around her slim, white throat and choke the life from her.

  His father took the opportunity to warn him, “Angelina insisted this incident was her fault so I’ll not censure you. Nevertheless, Will, you must take more care with your sisters. Bear in mind, a highwayman is still at large. From now on I do not wish the ladies to be abroad at dusk.”

  “Yes, sir.” He answered Rosabelle’s amused glance with a cautious frown before excusing himself for the evening. He and his sister were often abroad at night, sometimes frequenting the local playhouse or the gaming rooms, where Rosabelle went masked. Life would be dull without their forays into town, and he doubted if anything would change.

  He encountered her maid on his way to his quarters, and smiled grimly when she gave him a flirtatious look. Taking her by the shoulders he propelled her ahead of him, watching her hips sway in invitation from side to side. They’ll not twitch like that when you leave, he thought darkly. You need teaching a lesson.

  Reaching his chamber, which was isolated from the rest of the house, William carefully locked the door behind him and threw her, face down, on the bed. She twisted, her smile fading when she saw him take a riding crop from his dresser.

  “Ere, what are you going to do?”

  “I hear you’ve been sharing your favours with one of the footmen,” he growled.

  “No, sir, I swear I haven’t. “ She scrambled to her feet, her face blanching when he pushed her down again. He threw her skirt above her head so her cries wouldn’t annoy him, then raised his crop and lowered it with a short, sharp motion.

  Loosening his breeches with one hand he raised the crop again with the other. This time his groan was louder than hers when he saw the faint pink stripe laid across her taut, white buttocks.

  His third stroke lifted a ruby welt against the skin. His mouth dried as his finger traced gently along its length. Sliding his hands under the girl he lifted her up and against him. The aroma of Rosabelle’s perfume surrounded her. William closed his eyes. The maid’s sobs were music to his ears as he took her, gently at first, then with increasing strength. He felt the power in him rise to fever pitch, felt her respond like a bitch in heat, closing around him and pulling him into her moistness.

  “Slut,” he whispered, over and over again. He prolonged the punishment until his reeling senses could take no more, then suddenly shuddered as he spent all his rage inside her. When it was over, he stared dispassionately down at her. She was an attractive, sloe-eyed little piece. She opened her eyes, staring at him with excited satisfaction. He grinned and grazed his hand down the side of her face. She had enjoyed her pain and its ultimate outcome.

  “If you tell anyone of this I’ll kill you. Understand?”

  The girl’s tongue flicked pinkly over her lips. “Make it worth my while, sir.”

  “So I shall.” Crossing to the dresser he fetched a gold coin, holding it up against the light so she could see it. His hand closed gently around her throat, he smiled. “You have the instincts of a whore, Ellen. Come to my room at midnight and the gold coin will be yours. Wear something...nice.”

  She knew exactly what he was getting at. Her glance flicked from the coin back to him, speculative and knowing. Giving a slyly satisfied smile, she nodded.

  * * * *

  Used to her own company, the presence of another proved tiresome to Angelina, especially someone as restless as her sister.

  Her sister distracted her from her embroidery today as she paced up and down, prattling incessantly about the coming ball.

  “I’ll spurn all suitors except for Rafe,” Rosabelle declared, stopping to preen herself in front of the looking glass. Sucking in her waist, she pulled herself straight and thrust out her bosom. “When he sets eyes on me in my ball gown he’ll find me irresistible.”

  Angelina sighed, hoping Rafe would have more sense. “I thought you didn’t care for your ball-gown.”

  Rosabelle’s smile was secretive smile as her glance shifted to the window. “I’ve decided I like it after all. What’s your gown like?”

  “It’s pink and yellow - “

  “What can you be thinking of,” Rosabelle said with a theatrical shudder. “Pink will clash horribly with your colouring.” Striding to the dressing room she threw open the door, demanding imperiously. “Show it to me.”

  She was about to tell her the gown was still packed to prevent soilage when Rosabelle threw the dust cover from her rack of gowns and began to rifle through them.

  “Please do not crease my gowns,” Angelina cried. “Clara has just finished hanging them up.”

  “That’s what maids are paid to do.” Dragging a delicate yellow gown from the rack Rosabelle gazed at its flounced petticoat with critical eyes. The bodice was laced, and decorated with pink rosebuds that matched those at the hem. It was one of her favourites.

  As Rosabelle held it up and whirled around her heel caught in the flounce. She appeared not to hear the ripping sound as she untangled her foot. She smiled gaily as she hung it back on the rack. “You should wear another colour, something less insipid.”

  Angelina frowned, almost sure the damage to her gown had been deliberate. “I’m quite capable of deciding for myself what I shall wear.”

  “Well, don’t blame me if no one asks you to dance.”

  “As I’ve already been promised dances by, James, William, my father and Rafe, that’s hardly likely to happen.” Asperity filled her voice when Rosabelle wandered to her dressing table and removed the stopper from the perfume her mother had bought her. “Can’t you find something useful to occupy your time, Rosabelle?”

  “You sound just like mama.” She choked out a mocking laugh. “Poor, mama. She does not attract affection from those around her.”

  “I find her a most warm and loving person.”

  Rosabelle didn’t answer. She’d wandered to the window, her attention focussed on a figure on horseback coming along the carriageway.

  “It’s Rafe Daventry.” Her eyes shone with excitement when she turned. “Let’s go down and greet him.”

  Angelina joined her sister at the window. “If the purpose of his visit is our company, we will be sent for.”

  Rosabelle made a face at her. “If we’re accidentally in the hall when he enters he cannot fail to notice, and will be obliged to pass the time of day.”

  “You must do as you think fit.” Longing to see Rafe again herself, and seething inside that Rosabelle should make herself so obvious, she returned to her seat and applied herself to her embroidery. She expelled a deep, frustrated breath when Rosabelle left in a flurry of skirts, and abandoning her needlework crossed to the window again.

  Rafe chose that moment to glance up. Her heart began to race as he reined in his horse and gave her his slow, beautiful smile. “Greetings, Angel.”

  “My Lord.” He wore an elegant new suit of sober black with a stand up collar. She couldn’t resist giving him a mischievous grin when she spotted the glimpse of a striped grey waistcoat, and the touch of lace at his cuffs and throat. His dark hair had been drawn back and neatly fashioned into a black bow. “You are looking quite the dandy this morning.”

  “A well brought up girl should not comment on a gentleman’s attire.” He laughed when she made a face at him. “If you were not safely out of my reach I would -” His voice faltered and his glance went b
eyond her. “Is that you, Lady Elizabeth, or is it Angelina’s image in a looking glass?”

  Angelina whirled round when from behind her, her mother gave a soft laugh. “Fine words, Lord Lynnbury, but I’m more interested in what you were about to say to Angelina.”

  “He was about to threaten me with violence, I believe.” Gaily, she kissed her mother’s cheek. “He cannot scale the walls so I’m quite safe.”

  “But you’re not safe from me, young lady.” She pulled her from the window and gave her a severe look. “I’ll not countenance you hanging out of the window like some tavern wench, and Lord Daventry should know better than encourage such familiarity.”

  Angelina gasped with mortification when she heard Rafe move off. He could not have failed to overhear the chastisement. Her face began to burn. To be likened to a tavern wench was condemnation indeed. “I’m sorry, mama. I had no intention of being forward.”

  “It’s a pity you were not introduced into society earlier, you have so much to learn.” Elizabeth sighed. “Come, do not look so crestfallen. We must be thankful it was Lord Lynnbury. He’s a man of good sense and discretion. From now on you must think before you engage a man in conversation.”

  Angelina considered her remark unfair. “Rafe isn’t just any man.”

  “Oh?” Elizabeth’s eyebrow rose a trifle. “Pray explain that statement.”

  “He is more like a brother.”

  “Since you lack the experience of growing up with brothers you cannot possibly know that.”

  Turned towards the light, her face still crestfallen from her scolding, Angelina kept her chin tilted at a stubborn angle. “I did not grow up with a mother either, yet when I was alone and needed a mother’s guidance, I sensed her presence and imagined she watched over me with love. She would not have used cruel words.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes softened. “Were you very lonely?”

  “At times.” Her eyes centred somewhere in the past, it all seemed so very long ago. “Aunt Alexandra did not believe in idle hands. Every moment of my day was accounted for. Besides my book lessons, music, and embroidery, I was taught to run the household. I was also expected to visit the sick families of the estate workers.”