A few days later, Angel sat alone in the drawing room waiting for Philip to take her for a carriage ride in Hyde Park when a footman entered to tell her that the Marquess of Pensington and his sister had come to call. Giving the servant a surprised look, she stood and smoothed the skirt of her simple, white walking dress.
"Please, show them in."
The footman nodded and disappeared towards the entrance hall. A few moments later, Jessica and Nathaniel entered the room. Taking one quick glance at all the bouquets and flowers filling every available surface, Jessica laughed a little.
"Is this the new conservatory?" she asked with twinkling eyes. "Did I enter the wrong room?"
Angel grinned sheepishly, her cheeks heating. She had never expected to have this much attention. "Don't be silly."
Her friend walked along one of the long tables, inspecting the many beautiful and extravagant flowers. She reached out to touch some exotic bloom as she looked back at Angel. "Are they all for you?"
"Not at all. At least half, if not more, are for Joan."
Nathaniel picked up a crisp white card that had arrived with a group of exquisite orchids. "To Miss Grafton. Shall I compare thee to a summer's dawn?" He grimaced in disgust. "Surely they must be jesting. Misquoting Shakespeare? Not very romantic."
Jessica laughed. "It does quite ruin the moment, but not everyone knows Shakespeare inside out. You know, some people did not grow up with a parent obsessed with his writings. They also might not have your impeccable memory."
"Then they should do their research better," he muttered, putting the offending card back in the bouquet.
"I can't imagine it being romantic having Shakespeare quoted to you anyway," Angel said. "Don't misunderstand," she quickly added when both siblings turned to stare at her. "I love Shakespeare, but I think it would make me laugh if someone started quoting it to me."
"Do you think so?" Nathaniel asked.
The hint of a smile playing on his lips made her insides flutter. "Yes, I do believe so."
"Would you care to place a bet on that?"
"I... I don't know."
He moved over to stand in front of her, a little closer than was strictly proper, his dark eyes glittering. She stared up at him, unable to tear her gaze from his. For a man he had beautiful eyes, so dark they were almost black and framed by thick, sooty eyelashes that would make most women envious. He leaned in a little closer, making her breath catch in her throat.
"Doubt thou the stars are fire," he recited slowly, the words a soft caress. "Doubt that the sun doth move."
The rich cadence of his voice and the wicked glimmer in his dark eyes were mesmerising, and even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't have moved away from him. Not that she wanted to. She was utterly spellbound by their close proximity.
"Doubt truth to be a liar," he continued, leaning in close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her face. "But never doubt I love."
Swallowing with some difficulty, she tried to move, but her feet didn't obey. They stood so close that she could smell the crisp, clean scent of his newly pressed clothes, and something darker, manlier. Was it sandalwood?
"There are at least as many flowers for you as for Joan," Jessica muttered from the other side of the room, the reminder of her presence breaking the spell.
Angel drew a deep breath and stepped away from Nathaniel. Her head was foggy, and she struggled to piece two thoughts together. "Perhaps," she said. "I haven't read every card."
Turning around from a display of bouquets, Jessica looked over at them. Seeing her brother, her eyes narrowed for a second before she moved along to another table. "Do you like flowers?" she asked over her shoulder.
"I suppose." Angel smiled apologetically. "I suppose it would be considered dull, but I prefer roses. There really is no need for all these exotic and expensive flowers."
"It livens up the room at least," Jessica said with a teasing smile. "We came by to ask if you wanted to join us for a ride in the park."
"I would have loved to, but I have promised this afternoon to Philip. He should be here any moment to pick me up."
"Pity. I suppose we can't abduct you?" Jessica gave her a hopeful look.
Angel laughed. "I fear not." She frowned. "Didn't you agree to go for a ride with that gentleman? Mr Merriweather, wasn't it?"
The wide-eyed shock on Jessica's face was a little too innocent to be genuine. "Oh, no..."
"You cannot stand suitors up like this, Jessica." Nathaniel groaned. "And you definitely cannot allow me to be your accomplice in doing so."
"Of course, I can," she muttered.
He let out a long-suffering sigh before bowing towards Angel. "Miss Grafton, we shall see you tomorrow evening at Lady Yates's musical evening, I hope." Throwing a sardonic look in his sister's direction, he added, "I must take my sister home to see her suitor."
Jessica muttered something under her breath, gave Angel a quick hug, and then the two siblings left.
Smiling to herself, Angel sat down on the sofa to wait for Philip. He arrived not much later. When he saw the number of bouquets in the room, a scowl settled on his face.
"Where did all these flowers come from?" he asked abruptly, without even extending a greeting.
She looked around the room. There really were a lot of them. "Most are for Joan," she said. "She has been quite popular since the ball."
He appeared to accept the explanation and offered his arm. Picking up her rose-coloured cashmere shawl and her bonnet, she took it and allowed him to lead her outside to the waiting carriage. They spoke little during the ride to the park, so she occupied herself by watching the people walking along the streets. Once they arrived, he had to slow their speed to manoeuvre the crush of the park, but when they reached a less busy part, he finally relaxed. It was a beautiful, sunny day and Angel couldn't resist turning her face up towards the sun.
"You shouldn't do that," Philip said disapprovingly. "You might tan. Or get freckles."
She refrained from telling him she never tanned, only burned, but bowed her head so her bonnet protected her face from the warm sunlight.
"I was hoping to speak with you regarding a matter." He turned his head to look at her and her stomach plummeted.
"Oh?"
"When will we announce our betrothal?"
Never. The word came unbidden to her mind. Unable to meet his eyes, she looked out over the park, noticing that they were close to The Serpentine, its water sparkling in the sun. She felt nothing for this man that her family wanted her to marry. It wasn't something she had paid too much attention to until meeting Nathaniel. Her reactions to the two men were like night and day. Around Philip, she always felt uncomfortable and awkward, and she had assumed it was simply because of who she was. But when she was with Nathaniel... Well, she was still awkward. But she enjoyed his company, and he made her smile. Philip never made her smile.
Not that she ever believed a popular bachelor like Nathaniel would ever look twice in her direction—as Joan was all too happy to remind her of any chance she got—but it was proof that there was something else out there. More than what she could have with Philip. A future different from the dreadful one her family offered through Philip. But her parents had wanted this...
"Angel?" he said when she still said nothing.
"I... I don't know," she said. "Didn't James say I could have this season?"
Philip let out a puff of air. "It's only a formality. You are not here to see what else is available to you. We are still meant to marry, and I am not unreasonable. We can wait to get married until after the end of the season, but that doesn't stop us from announcing our betrothal sooner."
No. She didn't want that. Not yet. She wanted more time. More time for what, she wasn't sure, but she knew she wasn't ready to agree to become his wife. "We don't know each other well enough yet. James said we should use this season to become better acquainted, and I think that is a good idea."
"Many couples get married without barely knowing each other." He shrugged dismissively.
"I just don't know if we're a good match." The words slipped out before she could stop them and she almost slapped a hand over her mouth.
His cold eyes bore into hers. "Are you saying you don't wish to marry me?"
She could sense his anger in the way his fingers tightened around the reins and the jerky movements of his head. Not wanting him to lose his temper, she tried to placate him. "No... No, I'm not saying that. But I don't want to rush into this."
"We're hardly rushing. You are nineteen, a year older than most for their first season. I think we've waited long enough."
"Surely a little longer doesn't make much difference in the whole scheme of things?" she said, trying to keep her tone light.
His nostrils flared. "I don't understand why this is so difficult. Our parents arranged this match and we should honour their wishes."
She looked down at her glove-clad hands in her lap nervously wringing a piece of her dress. For as long as she could remember, her aunt had talked about this match, but in the last couple of years—as the time drew nearer—it had become something Aunt Christine constantly reminded her of. It was the only thing her parents could ever ask of her, and she wanted to honour their wishes. But why was it so hard?
"I know," she mumbled. "And I want to. But I worry we will not be happy together. I'm not sure we even like each other."
"We'll like each other well enough." His lips were a thin line on his face, and she wondered what he was thinking. Did he struggle with this decision as much as she was? He certainly didn't give her the impression of a man in love. Then, without warning, he turned to her and pressed his mouth roughly against hers.
She pushed him away as panic bubbled up inside, making her rash. "Don't kiss me!" she whispered urgently, looking around to see if anyone had seen them. "I don't like it."
"You don't like it?" The icy quality of his voice was far scarier than if he had shouted at her. "You don't like being kissed?"
"No," she admitted miserably, wishing she was anywhere but there, having any conversation other than this one.
He turned his face to look at her, and the cold fury in his eyes made her shiver. "I don't enjoy kissing you either," he spat. "It's like kissing a dead fish. Since you find my company so distasteful, you can walk home."
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"Get out of my carriage. Now!" He almost yelled the last word, and she quickly scrambled out of the carriage. She'd barely reached the ground when he set the horses in motion and left her standing alone on the road, staring after him.
She stood stunned for several moments until there was no longer any sight of the carriage or Philip. Dejected, she looked around the park. She had to get home. On foot. Fortunately, it wasn't too far to Berkeley Square from Hyde Park, but it was still some distance without proper walking boots. With a sigh, she started moving towards the other side of the park.
She was humming to herself and had not walked far when she heard someone call her name. Turning around, she caught sight of Jessica sitting in a nice, open carriage together with a good-looking young man. Next to them, Nathaniel rode on a bay horse. Mortified that they had found her alone, she wished she could sink through the earth. The last thing she wanted was to let anyone know she had displeased a man so much that he'd evicted her from his vehicle.
The carriage moved up alongside, and Jessica looked down at her with a worried look on her face. "Angel, what are you doing alone in the park? I thought Mr Chettisham was picking you up?"
"I..." She desperately wanted to come up with a plausible excuse. Nathaniel stared darkly at her, his brow furrowed, making it harder to think. Looking back at Jessica, she mumbled something non-committing.
"I beg your pardon? I couldn't hear you," Nathaniel said as he dismounted his horse and moved closer.
"Philip cancelled. I still wanted some fresh air and decided to go for a walk."
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed. "You walked all the way here from Berkeley Square. Alone. Without a chaperone?" There was a distinct note of disbelief in his voice.
"Yes," she said stubbornly, meeting his angry gaze without flinching.
"And are you planning to walk home as well?"
"I... Yes, of course."
"Surely we cannot allow Angel to walk the distance home," Jessica interrupted. "We will take her in the carriage."
"It's not big enough," Nathaniel said. "Are you still maintaining that you walked here, Miss Grafton?"
She nodded, but she could tell he didn't believe her, and from the pitying looks from Jessica, neither did she.
"Why don't you take my carriage and bring Miss Grafton home?" Mr Merriweather, Jessica's suitor, said helpfully. "Lady Jessica and I can stroll through the park in the meantime."
"Yes," Jessica quickly agreed. "Please, Nathaniel. Will you do it?"
He said nothing, but nodded tersely and waited while Mr Merriweather and Jessica stepped down from the carriage. Handing the other man the reins of his horse, he then climbed up and sat down.
"I'm sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances," Mr Merriweather said with an apologetic smile as he helped Angel into the carriage.
"Thank you, Mr Merriweather." She didn't want to meet anyone's gaze. The whole situation was humiliating.
Jessica waved as the carriage lurched into motion, and Angel waved back before turning forward. Nathaniel remained silent, and she decided it was wise to follow suit. Especially considering that he was gripping the reins with such force, she wondered if he imagined it being her neck. Once they left the park behind them and were driving along a quiet street, he turned to look at her.
"He left you there, didn't he?" he asked directly.
She stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes, lest he read the answer in hers. "No."
"Please don't lie to me. Chettisham doesn't deserve you protecting his unacceptable behaviour."
Smoothing out an invisible crease on her dress, she pondered his words. She wasn't protecting Philip. She was protecting herself. No one wanted to admit to being so disagreeable that their intended future husband didn't want to see them. Aunt Christine always said she ought to consider her words before speaking, and now she could see why. There had probably been a better way to discuss matters with Philip, but he had put her on the spot and she had panicked.
"Miss Grafton?"
"I've said you can call me Angel," she muttered, glancing up at him. He was such a handsome man with his olive-tinted skin and black hair that it almost hurt her to look at him. With his marked cheekbones, straight nose, and slashed dark eyebrows, he had something of a wicked look. When she had first seen him and compared him to a dark angel, it seemed rather apt. His mouth was wide, and there was something sensual about it, especially when he smiled at her the way he did now. Tearing her gaze away from his lips, she stared straight ahead again.
"Angel." He sighed softly. "What am I to do with you?"
"You need not do anything with me at all. I'm not your responsibility."
"You're my best friend's sister." The words caused a stab of disappointment. "I can't ignore it when I see you being mistreated by the man they're planning to marry you off to."
"I'm not being mistreated!" Why was she arguing with him? Pride?
"I am no fool, Angel. Chettisham left you in the park."
She didn't reply. What could she say?
"I should tell your brother what happened."
"No!" She whipped her head around to give him a pleading look. She couldn't bear it if James found out what a failure she was who couldn't even go for a simple carriage ride without angering Philip. "Please don't tell him. It was my fault."
Nathaniel's eyes glittered dangerously. "No gentleman leaves a lady alone in the park. No matter the reasons."
"I... I angered him," she admitted. "I should have kept my mouth shut."
"It's no excuse."
"Please don't tell James." She put her hand on his dark-clad arm.
He looked at her hand for a moment, then sighed. "Very well. But it's against my better judgement."
"Thank you."
"Don't. I'm doing you a disfavour."
A short while later, he stopped the carriage outside Gowthorpe House and turned to look at her. "I won't follow you inside since it would raise questions."
Jumping down from the carriage, he assisted her down. She looked up at him with a slight smile. "Thank you for being my friend and for not telling my brother."
"A true friend would save you from yourself."
"I can take care of myself quite well."
The look on his face clearly showed he didn't agree, but she decided not to take him to task about it. Especially since today hadn't exactly been a stellar show of her independence. Bidding him a quick farewell, she hurried up the steps to the house and entered as she heard the carriage pull away. The footman who opened the door didn't make a comment, and she was happy that no one in her family was around. Not in the mood to speak to anyone, she went upstairs to her room and closed the door behind her.
Untying her bonnet, she threw it on the bed. Her gloves followed suit. The room was pleasantly warm from the afternoon sun shining through the tall windows. She sat down in her favourite spot; the window seat where she could look out over the garden. The grassy area was currently empty, but she found it soothing to sit and watch the flowers and plants. With a sigh, she leaned her head against the cool glass of the windowpane and closed her eyes.
She didn't know what to do. Philip obviously wished to go ahead with their betrothal, despite their lack of interest in one another. Was it strange that she didn't enjoy kissing him? Everyone always talked about kissing like this wonderful—and forbidden—thing, but she didn't enjoy it in the least. Was there something wrong with her? She'd always been distant and quiet, even as a child. Maybe love and passionate kisses just weren't for her?
'Your parents so dearly wanted this.' The words her aunt so often used to remind her echoed through her mind. She remembered little of her parents. Any memories she had were faint, like thin gossamer threads in the far reaches of her mind. She could only remember her mother's soft hands and French accent, and the way she had tucked her into bed herself rather than letting the nanny do it. She remembered even less of her father, only that he'd been tall and blond, and had always smelled of fine cigars.
Would they have wanted this for her had they still been alive? She did not know. Maybe if she could bring herself to be more pleasant to Philip, he would return in kind. They would meet at the musical evening tomorrow night, and she would make an effort to please him. She would give this her best effort. Her parents deserved that much.
~~~~~~