"I do believe the marquess quite fancies me."
Angel ignored her cousin's chatter as she stared out the carriage window. They were on their way to a weekend party on the estate of Lord and Lady Kilkenny, which was only half a day's journey from London. According to James, the party was a yearly tradition since Lady Kilkenny was desperate to marry her son off.
They had tragically lost their eldest son a few months ago, and their younger son had been called home from the war to take his place as the heir to the Kilkenny title. Lady Kilkenny had always tried hard to marry off her sons, but apparently, she was trying even harder now that she only had one.
The entire Grafton and Grant family were joining for the weekend, but James had elected to ride a horse outside the carriage, leaving Angel inside with her aunt, uncle, and cousin. Joan and Aunt Christine sat opposite her, while Uncle George shared her seat. The man always smelled faintly of sour sweat, so she wasn't sure if she had the better deal or not. Joan, on the other hand, liked to 'accidentally' elbow her, so maybe the slight smell of sweat was better after all.
"Oh, I don't see how any man could not fancy you," Aunt Christine crooned with a proud smile.
Joan threw her mother a pleased smile. "He is so handsome. We look very well together. Do you not think so, Angel?"
She forced a smile. "Very well, indeed."
As Joan continued chatting about Nathaniel and how well-suited they were, Angel stopped listening. Turning her head, she looked out over the landscape passing by outside the carriage. It had been nearly a week since the embarrassing evening when she'd lost her head and asked Nathaniel to kiss her. Every time she remembered, she blushed from the mere memory, and she couldn't believe she'd had the audacity to ask such a thing of someone. Least of all Nathaniel Howerty, the Marquess of Pensington. The most handsome man she knew.
It had been a foolish thing to do. The kiss must not have affected him nearly as much as it had her, because he had avoided her ever since. She worried she might have ruined their friendship by asking for that kiss. He had not shown up when she visited Jessica and had not accompanied his sister to the Grafton house or outings as he had before. The few times they had attended the same events, he had not once approached her to wish her a good evening. He had spent more time talking to Joan than her. She could handle him avoiding her but in favour of Joan? That one hurt.
She threw her cousin a quick glance. Did he fancy Joan? The thought made her feel sick inside. Her cousin had always been popular, and no one could deny that she was a beautiful young woman. It had only been a matter of time before Nathaniel realised it too. But that thought did nothing to improve her mood.
She sighed inwardly. If nothing else, at least the kiss had proved one thing. She was not broken. She could enjoy kisses. It was the ultimate proof that she and Philip were a terrible match and should not get married. Now she only had to work up the courage to tell him so.
The opportunity might come this weekend at the Kilkenny's. She didn't look forward to it since she doubted he would take it well, but she refused to spend her life with someone she had no feelings for. It broke her heart that she would not fulfil her late parents' wish, but she liked to think they wouldn't have wanted her to marry a man she didn't love—didn't even like. They had loved her dearly, and surely they would have wanted her to be happy?
They arrived at the Kilkenny estate a couple of hours later and were greeted by Lady Kilkenny herself. She was a formidable woman of considerable height, with greying blond hair and green eyes. She showed the family to their rooms, all in the same corridor, and explained that she had placed the Howertys on the same floor as she knew the families were close.
Entering her room, Angel was glad for some privacy and happy that they had not made her share with her cousin. The room was small but well-kept and comfortable with a marvellous view of the front of the estate from the windows so she could watch everyone arriving as she sat with her diary in her lap.
In the early evening, everyone gathered on the extensive lawn at the back of the house for a garden party. Tables had been set up with a large buffet, and there were plenty of chairs and benches placed throughout the garden for the guests. Coloured lanterns created a cosy atmosphere. Further back from the house, a large hedgerow maze ruled a vast expanse of land. She wanted to explore it, but preferably in broad daylight.
She spent most of her time on James's arm and found it a pleasure to be with her brother. They shared jokes, and James gave her tidbits of gossip about the other guests. There were more unmarried women than men at the feast, which made sense considering the primary aim of the event.
The hostess herself walked around with her son in tow to ensure he met every single one of the unmarried ladies. Since Angel was not officially connected to Philip, she was one of the women Lady Kilkenny made sure her son greeted. Gabriel Winter was a pleasant man with ruffled blond hair and green eyes who seemed to put up with his mother's matchmaking with remarkable patience.
Now that she was determined to call things off with Philip, she figured that a man like Gabriel Winter was what she should look to for marriage. He was soft-spoken and nice-looking without being so handsome that women would trip over their feet to catch his attention. Like Nathaniel.
She winced at the treacherous thought before throwing a quick look over her shoulder to see what the marquess was doing. As one would have expected, with so many single young ladies present, a fairly large number of giggling females surrounded him.
If Lady Kilkenny was serious about wanting to marry her son off, she should probably stop inviting men like Nathaniel, since most would choose the handsome marquess over the pleasant future earl any day. Even James had received a fair bit of attention. But she supposed her brother was a good-looking man, and while his title wasn't as high as Nathaniel's or the one Lord Winter would eventually have, a Viscount was nothing to scoff at.
"Are you having a good evening?" James asked, bringing her back from her thoughts.
"Very much so, thank you. This is a beautiful estate."
"Yes, the Kilkennys are a good family." He nodded. "Had you not been promised to Philip, I think I may have tried to match you with Winter."
"Even though you think him rather dull?" she teased, having heard him talking about the future earl with one of his friends.
James's eyes widened in horror. "I never said that!"
"You did. I heard you."
"Well..." He made a face. "Winter may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's a pleasant fellow who would treat a wife well."
She laughed quietly and gave her brother's arm a reassuring pat. "Not to worry. I won't tell anyone you said so." Winking at him, she was amused to see James's bewildered look.
"I'm not used to you teasing me. I'm beginning to think I've not spent nearly enough time with you," he muttered. "It's a regret of mine that we never saw much of each other growing up."
She smiled wistfully. "It's true that we didn't, and it would have been nice to have you around more. But you were in school and you had your own life. You were too young to take care of me by yourself." Her smile widened. "But you can spend more time with me now."
"I intend to," he said, returning her smile. "Before you are married and Philip whisks you away."
"Of course," she mumbled, unable to meet her brother's eyes. He deserved to know that she would not fulfil their parents' wish, but she wanted to talk to Philip first. Maybe she worried her family might try to convince her otherwise, but she wanted to have broken things off before telling anyone.
The chance to speak to Philip came sooner than she would have wished as he came up to them and asked if James would allow him to take her for a stroll around the garden. Her brother graciously agreed and went in search of his friends. Looking down at her, Philip noticed her flattering white silk dress.
"You look nice tonight," he commented as he offered her his arm.
"Thank you." She placed her hand at his elbow and followed as he walked between the other guests gathered on the lawn. Steeling herself, she forced the words out before she could lose her nerve. "Philip, I would like to speak with you in private."
He smiled. "I wish to see you in private as well."
As he walked them towards the large hedgerow maze, she had the distinct feeling they were not thinking the same thing. Before she could object, he had pulled her behind the first hedgerow, blocking them from view. When he bent his head to kiss her, she quickly sidestepped. His brow furrowed.
"What's wrong?" Irritation laced his voice. "You said you wanted to go somewhere private."
"Yes. To speak."
"We can talk later." He reached for her and she backed away again.
"No. I want to speak now."
He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "So speak."
Thinking about breaking things off with him was much easier than actually doing it. She stared up into his forbidding face, and her throat closed up, rendering her unable to speak. This was the man that should have become her husband.
"Well?" He was getting impatient, which didn't help her nerves.
"I don't wish to marry you!" The words burst out before she could stop herself.
Ominous silence spread between them, making her fidget. It had not been the best way to tell him. She probably should have tried to ease into it, but his presence made her nerves knot into a hard ball in the pit of her stomach, and she just... blurted it all out. Why wasn't he responding? She yelped when his hands shot out and grabbed her arms, pulling her close so he could stare into her face. His blue eyes flashed with anger, making her regret not telling him in plain view of the other guests.
"You can't break it off with me," he hissed angrily.
"But I am," she whispered. Her throat was dry, and her pulse raced, but she had to finish this. She could not marry this man. "I don't love you and I don't want to marry you. And in all honesty, I doubt you want to marry me."
"You were promised to me!" He pushed her away, and she stumbled back. "You can't do this to me."
"I'm sorry, Philip." She wrapped her arms around herself as if it could somehow protect her from his ire. "But we both deserve better. We don't love each other, and I hope for more than that in a marriage. You should too."
He glared at her. "No one will ever love you. You're made of ice."
That stung. She had never been one for emotional displays, and sometimes she wondered if something was wrong with her. But no, she was not made of ice. Nathaniel's kiss had proved that much. Even if he had avoided her since. It seemed neither he nor Philip enjoyed kissing her. Still, she would rather spend her life alone than with Philip.
"Leave me alone," she said coldly. If he thought her made of ice, then she would act like it.
His eyes widened and his nostrils looked white and stiff as he stared at her, his mouth a thin line. For a brief moment, she feared he might strike her. "You will never be rid of me, Angel," he vowed. "You will be my wife. Just wait and see."
Turning on his heel, he left her alone in the maze. She let out a breath as the tension left her body. The man made no sense. Why did he still want to marry her? He obviously didn't like her and was surely not lacking in other prospects. It was a mystery, but not one she had the energy to deal with at that moment.
The brief encounter with Philip had left her feeling drained and not up to rejoining the party just yet, so she walked further into the maze. Lanterns along the hedges gave enough light to move around without too much trouble, and the reassuring sounds of others talking on the other side of the hedges kept her ambling along the pathways. Every few turns there were marble benches, and after a while, she chose one close to what she calculated to be the middle of the maze and sat down.
She was so deep in thought that she didn't realise she had company until a man suddenly sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.
"Hello, luv," he said as he leaned closer, treating her to a nice dose of alcoholic fumes.
"Good evening," she mumbled and tried to scoot further away. He was sitting much too close and most definitely should not take the liberty of putting his arms around her shoulders. It was highly inappropriate. She remembered seeing him at a few balls before, but could not remember his name. From what she remembered, he was a nice-enough man, but he had clearly imbibed too much, and some men could become unreliable when drunk.
"What's such a lovely young lady doing out here by herself?" he asked with a crooked smile. He leaned a little closer with a conspiratorial grin, swaying unsteadily in his seat. "Are you waiting for your lover?"
"Certainly not." She wasn't sure whether to be alarmed or amused. The man was obviously inebriated but seemed relatively innocent. "Could you please remove your arm?"
"Oh please, just a kiss before you leave, fair maiden." He hiccoughed before puckering his lips.
She stared at him. Surely he must be jesting.
"Just a tiny kiss. Save me from the evil dragon." He pulled back for a moment, consternation crossing his face. "No, wait. I save you from the dragon."
How much had this man been drinking? She tried to pull away again. "I beg your pardon, Sir. But I really must be going."
Getting out from under his arm, she stood to leave. He followed suit, probably a bit too quickly, as he oscillated on the heels of his shoes.
"Don't leave yet, fair maiden!" he complained and reached for her, but the movement was too much for his compromised balance, and with a groan, he stumbled forward. In a futile attempt to stay upright, he grabbed hold of Angel's shoulders, and with a distressed yelp, she fell, landing heavily on the ground with the man on top of her.
"Get off me," she muttered, trying to shove him off, but he was too heavy for her to budge.
He moved his head to sniff at her neck. "You smell good," he mumbled drunkenly. "The dragon must not have gobbled you up yet."
"Sir," she tried again. "You must get off me."
"Oh, but we're in a perfect position for a kiss!" the man exclaimed happily. He glanced around, then leaned closer, whispering loudly, "As long as we're safe from the dragon?"
"I don't want to kiss!"
This was getting bothersome. The man seemed fairly harmless, even if too amorous for her comfort, and it frustrated her she could not get off the ground. Couldn't the lout stand up? Just as she was about to remind him to do just that, he was lifted off her and tossed to the side.
Her stunned eyes met Nathaniel's, and before she could say anything, he pulled her to her feet. After a quick glance to make sure she didn't look any worse for wear, he strode over to the man who sat on the ground a few feet away, rubbing his head.
"Get out of here," Nathaniel growled.
The man's eyes widened. "Dragon!" He winced and rubbed his head again. "We were having such an enjoyable time. It's rather rude to interrupt."
Nathaniel reached down and pulled the man up by his coat lapels to stare him straight in the face. "The lady is spoken for. So you better get your arse out of here before I have my foot assist you."
The man blanched and nodded. "Of course. Naturally. Didn't realise she was attached to you, Pensington."
Before anyone could correct him, the man scampered off and disappeared around a corner. Angel breathed a sigh of relief. Walking up to Nathaniel to thank him for his help, she stopped dead in her tracks as he pivoted to stare at her with dark, flashing eyes.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
~~~~~~