Angel Of Windword

by Maggie Dove

  Casting Edgar a look of repugnance, Angelique quickly made her way toward the door. “My husband did not sleep with his brother’s wife,” she replied fervently. “I will never believe what you are saying, monsieur. Be assured, I shall waste no time—he will hear of this blasphemous tale.”

  Edgar jumped to his feet and followed her to the door. “You mustn’t tell him! It was he who insisted the child’s identity be kept secret, even from us. He has threatened to send the boy far from England; to India or some other out-of-the-way country, should anyone find out about the child. Lady Kent, you don’t want to know what happens to orphans in India. Trust me.”

  Turning to face Mason, Angelique let out a wry laugh. “You expect me to believe that Nicholas knows he has a child in this dreadful place? Really, monsieur, you and your wife belong in the theatre or an insane asylum.”

  “Madame, your husband is capable of that and much more. He has never come to see the boy. He once told Lady Clarissa that had he provided for all the bastards he had sired, he’d be a very poor man. If he withdraws the monies, the boy will be left destitute. He has threatened her with this many times in the past.”

  “Good day, Monsieur Mason,” Angelique spat out. “You will discuss this with my husband on another occasion—when he brings the authorities to close you down. This is no place for the rearing of children. I will make certain you never mistreat another child, if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

  To Angelique’s indignation, a panicky Mason held on to her sleeve. “If you tell your husband, the boy will be the one to suffer. If you don’t believe me, go see for yourself,” he urged. “Go to Lady Clarissa’s home on Beacon Street. You’ll see how Lord Nicholas is keeping her as his mistress. He had been waiting for the proper mourning period after James’s death to marry her, but his father sent him to France to marry you instead.”

  Angelique laughed in his face. Beacon Street? Two weeks ago Nicholas had sent Clarissa packing to her brother, Chauncy. Afterwards, the entire family had sat down to a hearty meal of celebration. “Just how long does a widow have to mourn in order to marry again?” she asked sarcastically. “Surely, my husband could have married her long ago. James has been dead for four years now. How naïve do you think I am?” she jeered. “Now let go of me!”

  Mason did not release her sleeve. “Lady Clarissa was not just any other widow; she was his brother’s widow. It wouldn’t have looked proper if he’d jumped right in. Lord Nicholas had to bide his time. Do not take my word for it. Viscountess, Lady Clarissa is not with her brother in Burnley Hall. She is here in London. She never left.”

  Angelique balked, finally freeing herself from his grasp.

  Edgar cleared his throat. “Your husband has set her up in a grand townhouse, a townhouse he visits on a regular basis in the afternoons and every other Tuesday night. He tells you he is playing cards at his club, but he is with her. According to the lady, he has never strayed too far from her.” Stopping to take a breath, he urged, “I have her address. Do not take my word for it. Go see for yourself. Next Tuesday night follow him and see where he goes—I can guarantee you’ll catch him with Clarissa Blake.”

  Angelique wanted to slap the insolent man’s face. She should have ended this conversation from the beginning and put a stop to Mason’s ugly accusations, but at first she had been too stunned to react. “Au revoir, monsieur,” she said, dismissing him with an icy tone. “There is nothing more to say.”

  Edgar hastily disagreed, “I expected this would be your reaction. So before you go, I want you to meet someone who will make your doubts disappear. Come in, Colin.”

  “Colin?” When Angelique turned around and saw the little boy standing with Gertrude by his side, she felt the blood drain from her face. With hair as black as night and eyes as blue as shiny sapphires, his features were identical to her husband’s. There was no question in her mind that this child was a Kent.

  The thought of this beautiful boy having spent the first three years of his young life in this awful place with these awful people tore at her insides. Tenderness filled her heart as she crouched down and put her arms around him.

  The boy’s eyes lit up. “Are you a princess?” he asked anxiously.

  “I’m afraid not, chérie.” Angelique smiled.

  “My name is not Cherry,” Colin replied. He looked up at Gertrude and whispered, “Why does she call me Cherry?” Before Gertrude could respond, he turned again to Angelique. “Gertrude told me one day a princess would come and take me away.”

  “Is that so?” Angelique asked, wondering if she had somehow misjudged Gertrude Mason. The woman seemed genuinely fond of the boy.

  “Yes,” the little boy replied in a high-pitched tone as he put his tiny arms around her neck. “You do want me, don’t you?”

  Angelique was certain her heart would break. “Yes, Colin. I want you very much.”

  “Monsieur,” she addressed Mason. “I shall take Colin with me now.”

  “I’m afraid that is impossible, my dear lady.”

  Trying to hide her anger, Angelique smiled at the little boy. “Colin, promise me that you will not think I’ve forgotten you. I’ll come back to get you as soon as I am able.” She kissed him on the cheek. “It’s time for you to go now. I’ll see you real soon, chérie.”

  Colin left holding Gertrude’s hand. “Gertrude, don’t cry,” he said. “The princess wants me—she said so.”

  When Colin and Gertrude were out of earshot, Angelique turned to Edgar. “If you harm this boy in any way, you’ll have me and most of England and France to answer to, do you understand, monsieur? Since you refuse to release the boy, I have no other choice but to return with the authorities.”

  Edgar smiled with satisfaction. “Lady Clarissa told us that seeing the boy would convince you. You are now certain, are you not? He is your husband’s child.”

  Angelique did not deem to answer. Remembering the old photograph she had seen of Nicholas as a boy, she knew this child was his spitting image. But Nicholas would not have had an illicit affair with his sister-in-law while his brother was alive. He cared too much for his family to have done something so vile.

  “Well, are you convinced?” Mason repeated.

  “Monsieur Mason, I am convinced of only one thing, that Colin has an uncanny resemblance to his Uncle Nicholas.”

  Edgar Mason looked ill. He had dark circles under his eyes, his face was ashen and worn as though he hadn’t slept for years. “Lady Kent, you’ll not be convinced until you can verify that Miss Blake was your husband’s lover while she was married to James Kent and that Lord Nicholas is still very much her lover now.”

  Angelique shook her head. Something was bothering her. “How did you know to summon me using Monsieur Bertrand as bait?” she asked. It was curious how she had not questioned this before. Other than Nicholas, no one except Lord Edmund and Anna knew about Henri.

  “Lady Clarissa told us all about him. Sweet lady, don’t you see? She is blackmailing Gertrude and me. She wanted you to know just how much your husband loves her. Although she only recently informed us about the identity of the child, she has threatened to tell the earl we have kept his grandson from him. If he finds out, he will jail us or worse.”

  “Nonsense,” Angelique scoffed. “Nothing you say makes any sense.”

  Ignoring her words, Mason continued, “Lord Nicholas will deny he knew of this child. Worse, he will make good on his threat and send the child away, letting the blame lie with Gertrude and myself. Please Lady Kent, we implore you. Go see for yourself,” he insisted as he walked her to the front parlor and escorted her out the door. “Go to Lady Blake’s townhouse. This is her address.” He pressed a piece of paper into the palm of her hand. “You will see her there tonight. I can guarantee it.”

  Inasmuch as she did not trust Edgar Mason, Angelique had to admit the man had been speaking the truth when he said the child was a Kent. But she knew two things and two things only: Nicholas was not the cruel man Mason had
depicted and secondly, little Colin Kent would no longer reside in this terrible, hideous orphanage. She would see to that. “There is no need for me to go Beacon Street, not tonight, not ever. I know that there existed no affair between Clarissa and my husband, not now, not then.”

  Edgar watched Angelique cross the filthy street and hail for a coach. He did not turn away until the coach was out of distance.

  “Edgar, did she leave?” Gertrude asked, trying to keep in step as he returned to the drawing room. “Do you think she believed it? Oh, Edgar—what if she reports us? This is awful, Edgar. Such a lovely girl. We had no right—no right at all!”

  Edgar tuned her out. His mind was on other things. He had enjoyed the look of bewilderment that had passed through Angelique’s lovely features when she had first seen the child. His greedy eyes had observed every soft, feminine curve on her firm, young body.

  He mentally licked his lips. It had been a long time, longer than he cared to remember, since he had felt such lust for a woman. Any doubts he may have had regarding the execution of his future assignment had vanished the moment he set his eyes on the viscountess. He looked forward to the day that he would have her all to himself, to do with her what he willed. Report him to the authorities, would she?

  Gertrude rubbed her hands together. “Edgar, are you listening to me? We’ll hang, Edgar—we’ll hang!” she cried. “We mustn’t continue with this ruse.”

  He would relish breaking her spirit, spreading her legs and humbling her with acts he had only dared to fantasize about in the darkest of nights. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to ignore the urgings of his tumid member.

  When Gertrude left, he placed his hand on his loins and groaned. Patience Edgar. This is no time to pleasure yourself—your accomplice should be arriving soon with half of the reward money. The French girl will never know what hit her. After tonight, she will change her mind about confiding in her husband. Report Edgar Mason to the authorities? Not likely!

  * * * *

  Much to Angelique’s chagrin, the moment she entered the Kent townhouse she was accosted by the painfully proper and insufferable butler, Godfrey. Unfortunately, after years of loyal service, the bent little man had become a fixture in the Kent household, much like a family heirloom one does not particularly hold dear, but is required to keep because of its traditional value. On several occasions, Lady Marguerite had tried to retire the insolent servant, but Lord Edmund would never allow it. The earl was quite fond of the “old bugger”.

  Shaking his head, Godfrey reprimanded her in his most precise, most stuffy English accent. “My lady, where have you been? The family is at wits’ end,” he snapped. “Lord Nicholas is beside himself with worry—”

  “Godfrey, I am fine.” In no mood to be lectured by the lofty servant, Angelique interrupted him in mid-sentence. “Where is Lord Nicholas? I must see him at once.”

  “The master and mistress are in their quarters dressing for the ball, and Lord Nicholas was called to business. He left specific instructions to be notified as soon as you arrived at the townhouse. You should not have missed the corona—”

  “Tell them I’ve returned.” She did not give him the chance to continue. “I’ll explain everything to them later.” Picking up her skirts, she ran up the stairs. “Ask Janie to come to my room,” she called down to him over the banister. “If Janie is not back from visiting her sister, please send another handmaid. Make haste, Godfrey—the ball awaits.”

  When Angelique threw open the door to her room, she noticed a deep, square box lying on top of her dressing table. Beside the box was a note from Nicholas, which read: I want you to wear these tonight, angel. They belonged to my grandmother. I hope you like them. Love, Nicholas.

  She quickly opened the box and thought her heart would burst with emotion. Mon Dieu, it was the most beautiful diamond and pearl tiara she had ever seen! A pair of matching earrings lay beside it. With delight, she picked one earring up and held it beside her cheek, while looking in the mirror. Oh, how she longed to put her arms around Nicholas, press her lips to his and thank him properly for the beautiful gift.

  Her mouth curved into a smile. She had a special gift of her own that she would bestow on him and the rest of his family tonight. The earl and countess would be thrilled to know their late son, James, had fathered a child before his death! But first she had to speak to Nicholas.

  With every nerve in her body on the brink of excitement, she waited for the maid to fill her bath, but a short while later as she soaked in the tub, wary thoughts began to cloud her mind. Was she hastening things a bit by rushing to the family with the news of Colin’s existence? Should she not confront Clarissa first? Write to her at Burnley Hall and demand an explanation? There were many questions left unanswered. Nothing made sense. Why did Mason insist she go to the address he had jotted down? Maybe he thought she would not go—that she would go straight to Nicholas and accuse her husband of impregnating his brother’s wife.

  This was just like Clarissa. How far would the horrid woman go to break up Nicholas’s marriage? Why had she put Colin in the orphanage in the first place? What did she have to gain by it? Revenge—was that it? The satisfaction of knowing she was keeping James’s only son away from his loving grandparents. Mon Dieu, such a cruel and vicious woman!

  Soaping herself, Angelique fumed. With renewed determination, she raised herself from the tub. The devil take Clarissa Blake! she thought as the maid toweled her off and helped her with her robe. Tonight, the family would know that James’s son was alive and that there was a wonderful little boy named Colin residing in London.

  An hour later, Lord Edmund stood in appreciation as Angelique entered the library.

  Her gown, made of eggshell-rose silk, was cut low and off the shoulders. A trim of beaded pearls followed the outline of her round décolletage and bordered her tiny waist. With her golden tresses piled high atop her head, she proudly wore the pearl-laden tiara and matching earrings Nicholas had left for her earlier.

  Lord Edmund approached her and kissed her hand. “You look stunning, my dear. Doesn’t she, Marguerite? She stands poised and regal, like a princess.”

  “Oh, yes, she certainly does,” Marguerite agreed. “Dear, we have been out of our minds with worry. Where have you been most of the afternoon?” she asked, her brows drawing together in an inquisitive gesture. “We know how much you wanted to attend the King’s coronation. Nicky was fit to be tied.”

  “Marguerite, let the girl explain,” her father-in-law intercepted. “Although Angelique’s note to Nicholas was quite vague, I’m certain there is a logical explanation for all this. Tell us, my dear. What kept you from the coronation?”

  “Oh, Lord Edmund … Lady Marguerite, something wonderful has happened!” Angelique could hardly contain herself. Her hands shook with excitement. “I know you will all be delighted when I tell you, but I mustn’t say a word until I speak with Nicholas first.”

  Marguerite and Edmund exchanged puzzled looks.

  “Why are you being so secretive, my dear?” prodded Edmund. “Can you not tell us the news and fill him in later?”

  Angelique shook her head no, and replied firmly, “It is important I speak with him first. Where is he? And where is Anna? This concerns the entire family.”

  “Lord Shelby and his daughter, Caroline, came by for Anna while you were upstairs. I’m afraid she is already on her way to the ball,” Marguerite informed. “I’ve never seen Nicky so concerned. He didn’t go to the coronation and has spent most of the day searching for you.”

  Angelique’s heart sank. “Poor Nicholas, I acted rashly. I’m sorry to have worried him. Is he very angry with me?” she asked, dismayed. “I have spoiled his day.”

  The earl gave his wife a most disapproving look. “Marguerite, now look what you’ve done—you’ve alarmed the girl. Nonsense, child, why would he be angry with you?” he reassured Angelique. “Nicholas received an urgent message from his man, Rhourk, requesting his immediate pres
ence at the shipping yards, that is all. He is not angry.”

  Lady Marguerite took Angelique’s hands. “Thinking it could possibly have something to do with your absence, he rushed out. Unfortunately, he has been detained. We sent word informing him you had arrived, and he sent back a reply asking us to meet him at the ball. Nevertheless,” she declared with a slight frown, “I just can’t help but wonder what this is all about. I do wish you would not keep us in suspense.”

  Angelique smiled. “I might have ruined your day, but I am determined not to spoil your evening. Believe me, the news I have to share will more than compensate for everything I have put you through today. I am bursting to let it out. I promise to tell you everything later … once I have spoken with Nicholas.”

  The three walked into the foyer and stood before the front door. “Godfrey, be a dear and grab our wraps,” the countess requested of the servant then, smiling, turned to her daughter-in-law. “Nicholas is going to be so proud when he sees you at the ball, Angelique. As usual, you will outshine the others. Now, we must leave at once or we’ll miss all the activity.”