Читать книгу Regency Society Collection Part 2 - Хелен Диксон, Ann Lethbridge, Хелен Диксон - Страница 47

‘Allow me to congratulate you.’ A lazy, devastating smile passed over Alex’s features, his eyes doing a slow sweep of her body so that Angelina could almost feel him disrobing her. ‘It appears the engaging young girl I first knew has become a gorgeous young woman of exotic beauty. In the space of twenty-four hours you have endeared yourself to every one of my guests—especially the gentlemen. No doubt when you return to London you will slay the lot of them.’

‘Alex, please don’t exaggerate.’ Angelina moved closer to the fire to hide her confusion, aware of the magnetic charm he was exuding, and beginning to wish she had left when she had said what she had come to say.

‘I don’t. You will bowl them over and down they will fall like skittles. No doubt they will all turn poets overnight to express their love for this bright new star in their heaven.’

‘Really?’ She smiled, her eyes slanted and quietly teasing, feeling a treacherous warmth seep through her. ‘And will you pen one yourself, my lord?’

He grinned. ‘Haven’t you broken enough hearts among my guests without wanting mine? So, tell me. What is your opinion of Miss Howard?’

Angelina was completely taken aback by the question and her head snapped up. ‘We are not acquainted—but—she seems—quite nice,’ she answered hesitantly.

‘Liar,’ Alex said, amused at the way she tried to equivocate. ‘You cannot stand her.’

Angelina’s cheeks flamed. ‘Then if you know my opinion, why did you ask me?’ she retorted crossly. Not for a moment did it enter her head to deny it. She moved to step past him in the direction of the door, but his hand shot out, capturing her elbow.

‘You’re not leaving.’

‘I think I must.’

‘No, you’re not. You are going to stay here and have a glass of wine with me.’ Striding to a small carved table, he poured two glasses of red wine and handed one to her. She took it reluctantly.

‘You are neglecting your guests, Alex. Don’t you think it’s time you returned to them?’

‘No—not when I find myself in such enchanting company.’

‘Why did you invite all these people if all you want to do is escape?’ The answer dawned in her eyes when a slow smile curved his firm lips. ‘Oh—I’m sorry. I forgot. It was to assess Miss Howard as a possible wife without appearing too obvious. Am I right?’

‘Absolutely.’ He chuckled. ‘But it isn’t difficult. Lavinia is the kind of woman any man would enjoy having as his wife. She is accomplished in many things and will preside over Arlington Hall and Mowbray Park with grace and poise. She will not be daunted by the many duties she will find thrust upon her, and she is also sophisticated and clever.’

‘And cold and dispassionate and difficult to please,’ Angelina concluded drily. ‘I wish you joy in her. Good luck, Alex. You will certainly need it. But if I did not know any different, I would think it is a woman who has just applied for the position as your housekeeper you speak of—not the woman you intend making your wife. All of a sudden I am beginning to feel pity for Miss Howard. You seem to have considered marriage to her with the same dispassionate reasoning that marks everything you do in life.’

Alex disregarded the sardonic edge to her voice and cocked a sleek black brow at her, his eyes shining with suppressed humour. ‘Jealous?’

Angelina looked at him, her eyes steady and her expression serious. ‘No, Alex. I am not jealous. I have no reason to be. Besides, jealousy is an emotion I have never experienced in my life.’

Alex was immediately contrite and wished he’d never asked the stupid question. ‘I know, Angel,’ he said softly, reaching out and lightly touching her cheek. ‘I’m sorry. So, you are of the same opinion as Uncle Henry and Aunt Patience. You don’t think I should marry Miss Howard either.’

‘It’s just that I have no wish to see you made unhappy,’ she answered quietly, reaching up and placing her glass of untouched wine on the mantelpiece.

Alex was moved by the sincerity of her words and a constricting knot of tenderness formed in his throat. ‘And if I marry Lavinia, you think I will be?’

‘Undoubtedly.’

For a moment Alex considered her in thoughtful silence. ‘I’m touched. I didn’t realise you cared.’

‘I do care, Alex—otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Miss Howard is cold and hard, and when she’s fifty she’ll look just like her mother.’

Unable to contain his mirth, Alex was laughing now with real amusement, his teeth flashing white from between his parted lips.

‘Good Lord, I do believe you’re right,’ he said, composing his features once more. ‘And is there a danger that I’ll become like Lord Howard?’

‘No—you’re not in the least like Lord Howard. He never opens his mouth unless Lady Howard gives him permission to do so.’

‘Nevertheless, Lavinia does have some good points.’

‘I know. I feel like a pincushion already,’ Angelina told him, her lips curving with humour. She looked at him a little quizzically. ‘Do you realise that whenever you mention marriage to Miss Howard, you become tight lipped and your expression goes all serious—in fact, you become positively grim?’

Alex’s mouth grew hard and he looked annoyed by her question, but he answered it. ‘No. As a matter of fact I don’t.’

‘Well, you do. And there,’ she accused, ‘you’re doing it again. Have you given her reason to believe you care for her? Have you kissed her?’ Her head cocked slightly on one side as she looked at him, knowing she shouldn’t ask so personal a question, but unable to stem her female curiosity.

His eyebrows shot up in sardonic amusement. ‘Your question is impertinent, but, to appease your curiosity, the answer is yes.’

‘Oh.’ Angelina was unprepared for the rush of disappointment she felt, and was surprised by it, for why she should care whether he had kissed Miss Howard or not bemused her.

Alex’s smile was merciless. ‘Are you wondering how you compare?’

Two high spots of angry colour mounted Angelina’s cheeks. ‘Of course I’m not—and please don’t be crude, Alex. You must forgive me if I appear stupid—but I am confused, you see. By you. I never know quite what to expect. Will you tell me why you kissed me when you came to my room? A man of your experience—you knew exactly what you were doing. I’m not used to that sort of thing, you see. I don’t go around kissing people.’

‘I hope not.’ His lips quirked with wry amusement at her naïvety, and then, raking his fingers through his hair, he sighed, no longer in any mood for the light banter that had laced their conversation so far. ‘I’m sorry, Angel. I never meant for it to happen. It was wrong of me to take advantage of you. You must forget it happened.’

But I can’t, Angelina almost shouted at him. That’s the trouble. The memory of that night lingered far too strongly for her to discount its effect on her. ‘So,’ she said, ‘your intentions weren’t honourable when you entered my room and took advantage of me in my weakened state.’

She tried to sound light and flippant when she spoke, but somehow it didn’t sound like that to Alex. When he heard the tell-tale catch of hurt in her voice, it was so touching and tragic that he was moved in spite of himself. In a blinding flash it dawned on him that she might expect him to say he loved her, and if so he must put a crushing end to it before she had time to nurture the idea.

‘I entered your room because I heard you were distressed. I wanted to comfort you—and it should have stopped at that. In time you will learn that kissing does not bring commitment. Understand this, Angelina. For a moment I may have lost my head, but I am not going to make any undying declarations of love. I don’t need any woman—and I don’t need the added guilt and responsibility of a naïve eighteen-year-old girl. The ritualistic proposal that usually follows such encounters will not come from me.’

His words sounded so final, so insulting, that Angelina felt as though she had been slapped. An icy numbness crept over her body, shattering all her tender feelings for him. Deeply regretting the impulse that had brought her to his rooms to offer words of comfort, she now realised she should have stayed away, for he did not deserve either sympathy or understanding from her. She expelled her breath in a rush of tempestuous fury as the fragile unity they had shared moments ago was shattered and the battle that constantly simmered beneath the surface between them was resumed.

‘How dare you mock my feelings. What a callous, self-opinionated, loathsome blackguard you are.’

He arched an eyebrow, his tone one of irony when he spoke. ‘Yes, I am all those things. What did you expect—some infallible being?’

‘No, not that. How excruciatingly naïve you must find me. Just to set the record straight, my lord, I do not expect a proposal. It never entered my head.’

‘It didn’t?’ He seemed genuinely surprised.

‘Why, you conceited ass,’ she flared. ‘Cast your mind back to my arrival at your house in London. I told you then that I have no intention of marrying—nor will I become any man’s light-of-love, fawned over today and forgotten tomorrow. I meant it then and I mean it now. Matrimony is not for me. I will not sacrifice myself on that particular altar for any man.

‘But should I change my mind, my lord,’ she seethed, planting her hands firmly on either side of her tiny waist and thrusting her angry face closer to his, her eyes sparking with ire, ‘if you were the last man on earth I would never marry you. I find the whole idea of us forming any kind of relationship quite ludicrous.’

‘I agree,’ Alex snapped rudely, his cold, threatening gaze impaling Angelina to the spot as he moved closer to where she stood. ‘You, my pet, would make an exceedingly poor wife.’

‘And you, my lord, would make an exceedingly poor husband,’ Angelina countered furiously, humiliated to the core of her being by his unkindness. ‘However, one thing has changed since last we spoke. I have told Verity that I will concede to everyone’s wish and be introduced into society at the next Season.’

‘What! With all the glitz and ostentation?’ He smiled wryly. ‘God help all those unsuspecting males when you descend on them. But do you realise that when you make your début you will be making yourself available to every unattached male in the country?’

‘That does not mean to say I have to accept any of them. I value my freedom and independence too highly to give it up.’

Alex’s face could have been carved from a block of granite. ‘So, unlike others of your sex, you harbour no ambition to snare a wealthy husband.’

‘Material wealth does not interest me. But if I did marry, I would marry the meanest pauper if I loved him and he returned that love. But what of you? Don’t any of the ladies of your acquaintance fall in love with you? Oh, I’m sorry,’ she exclaimed heatedly, glowering at the man before her and tossing her head back haughtily, the curls on either side of her face doing a frenzied dance. ‘What a stupid thing to ask you of all people, when half the female population in England must have been in love with Alex Montgomery at one time or another. But what do they love about you, Alex? Your wealth? Your title? What you can give them? Don’t any of them love you for just yourself? Oh, I pity you. What a lonely, bitter old man you will be in years to come.’

Alex’s jaw hardened. ‘I told you I do not need any woman’s love. I certainly do not want it. If my mother taught me anything at all, it is that love is more destroying than hate.’

‘That is not true. Love is what is essential to make a marriage work. Money has no place when it comes to happiness.’

‘That is the kind of sentimental drivel spoken only by romantic young girls and idiots,’ Alex uttered with biting scorn.

‘Which is precisely what I am.’

‘And is only for the naïve,’ he mocked cruelly.

‘Then I am also naïve.’

‘I know that, too.’

‘Oh, my, Alex,’ Angelina remarked, her tone heavily laced with sarcasm. ‘Your notion of love is nothing more substantial than mere indulgence. The only kind you seem to know about is the kind made between the sheets. You really are so insecure and disenchanted with life that I find myself feeling almost sorry for you.’

He fixed his cold eyes on her. ‘Don’t. Men in my position must marry to beget an heir, and after fulfilling that requirement—’

‘Don’t tell me. They are then free to enjoy their mistresses,’ she flung at him derisively, her fiery, angry spirit giving her a radiance that reminded Alex of all the female attributes that stood just within his reach, a radiance that was drawing him towards her with increasing power. ‘What a degenerate blackguard you are, Alex Montgomery, with mistresses strewn all over London town. That’s what you like, isn’t it? Pedigree ladies who look good. Ladies who don’t make you feel too much. But where is the decency in that, pray? Have you no conscience—no sense of honour?’

‘Apparently not,’ he answered, torn between anger, amusement and desire as he looked down at her proud beauty. ‘I will not change the way I live my life, and I make no apologies for it either. But I do not recall you complaining when I kissed you,’ he said on a softer note, moving closer, his gaze devouring her face.

Suddenly the walls seemed to close in on them, making each aware of the closeness of the other, of the warmth, the intimacy. The pull of Alex’s eyes was far harder for Angelina to resist at that moment than the frantic beat of her heart.

‘Don’t you dare touch me,’ she warned, unable to move towards the door because he blocked her way. ‘I swear that if your hand comes anywhere near me I’ll shred it to the bone, you vile, despicable knave.’

His laugh was merciless, his eyes unrelenting. ‘I’ll risk it.’

She was about to spring past him, but iron-thewed arms went around her with stunning force and drew her against a broad, hard chest. ‘Get off me. How dare you?’ she objected furiously, struggling against him. His face was so close that she had no difficulty defining every detail, and the lazy smile awoke disturbing memories. ‘Let me go. Must I remind you of my virtue—and that you are almost a married man?’

‘A fact that weighs more heavily on your mind than it does on mine, Angel,’ he murmured, chuckling softly. ‘Damn it all, your virtue is the greatest stumbling block I have ever encountered. Were you not my uncle’s ward, I would have demolished it long since.’

‘Please let me go, Alex,’ she whispered, overcome with an irrational fear, primitive and instinctive. Never had he looked so tall, so powerful, so coldly frightening as he did at that moment. She saw the burning light in his eyes, and deep within her she felt the answering stirring of longing she’d felt when he’d held her in his arms once before and kissed her. ‘Do you forget so soon your promise not to repeat what happened between us the other night?’

‘I have a hankering to repeat the offence—especially when I look at you,’ he said huskily, turning the full force of his gaze on the young woman he was reluctant to let go. His conscience was making a damned nuisance of itself again and telling him he should end what he had started, but his body was sending out messages of a different kind.

Because Angelina was not the kind of sophisticated, worldly woman he usually made love to it made her more alluring, more desirable. She was nothing like the glamorous, experienced women who knew how to please him, women who were mercenary and hell-bent on self-gratification, whose beds he sought only to leave the moment his ardour was spent.

Reading the sudden glow in his eyes, Angelina was alarmed. ‘Please don’t—you can’t do this to me.’

Deaf to her pleas, Alex’s arms tightened, his gaze focusing on her lips. ‘But I can. I am a degenerate bastard,’ he said, calmly repeating the accusation she had flung at him earlier, ‘with no moral principles, honour or conscience, so I can do anything I please.’

‘Not with me.’ He was so close that Angelina could feel the heat of him. ‘Release me,’ she ordered, infuriated by his obvious intention to weaken her resolve.

‘Not a chance,’ Alex whispered, as touched by her fear as he was by her innocence and inexperience. This time there was no burst of conscience as he gazed at those soft pink lips quivering close to his own. ‘What I want, Angelina, is the same thing I want every time I look at you.’ All he could think of was shattering her demureness and reserve and laying bare the woman of passion. His mouth covered hers, and, forcing her lips apart, he began kissing her with fervency, determined to make her respond.

Angelina’s determination not to yield was as strong as his determination to make her. She knew that he wanted her full co-operation, and that if she gave it, it would be more damaging to her pride than anything else. Tears gathered under her eyelids and the world seemed to tilt around her and retreat. She fought the weakness, not wanting to be completely at his mercy, but her body was already beginning to respond with a gross miscalculation of her will. She wasn’t made of stone. She was flesh and blood, and her blood was on fire.

The moment she leaned into him and opened her mouth in response, Alex’s arms tightened round her. With the swell of her breasts pressed against his chest, he kissed her deep, drawing her tongue into his mouth and caressing it with his own. The sheer wonder of it sent exhilarating sensations darting and tingling to the far extremities of Angelina’s body.

Knowing he must stop before he went too far, raising his head, his eyes hooded and dark with passion, Alex looked down into her upturned face. ‘Good Lord, Angelina! What have you done to me? What might you do to me if I let you?’ he whispered hoarsely, standing there with her in his arms in an agony of lust, wondering how someone as innocent, as pure and devoid of guile as she, could drive him half-mad with desire. Slowly he released her and stepped back.

Still trapped in the throes of passion, Angelina felt a tightening in her throat as she met his gaze. His eyes were hooded and moody, and his frown made a deep furrow over the bridge of his nose. Why? Why did he look like that?

‘Alex—what is it? What is wrong? Is—is it like the last time—and you regret kissing me?’

‘Yes. It was a mistake—my mistake,’ he said, his voice strained. ‘You must have cast a spell on me, for I do not seem to have the strength or the inclination to resist you. However, deflowering a properly reared virgin—and one who happens to be my uncle’s ward—violates even my code of honour where women are concerned, no matter how degenerate you consider me to be.’

Picking up his coat, he thrust his arms into the sleeves and straightened his cravat. ‘I’m sorry, Angelina. I take full blame for what happened.’ He glanced towards the door. ‘I think you’d better go while you still can.’

In the tearing, agonising hurt that enfolded her, Angelina was ashamed at how easy it had been for him, following all her harsh words, to expose the proof of her vulnerability. Tears blinded her vision. Lowering her head, she moved towards the door, silently weeping for her lack of will and with a fear of her feelings for Alex she seemed unable to control.

As Alex watched her go, he wasn’t to know that what had just passed between them had been the second most humbling event of her young life. Her head was bent forward, her steps slow, and he thought he saw her shoulders shake. She looked so young, so small and vulnerable, he felt disgusted with himself and his conscience wrenched. Unable to watch her leave after she had sought him out to offer words of comfort, he was about to go after her, but at that moment her head lifted and she squared her shoulders. She turned once more. He stiffened, feeling reluctant admiration for her stubborn, unyielding refusal to cower before him.

In her fury and ravaged pride, looking like an enraged angel of retribution, Angelina dashed away her tears and looked once more at the granite profile of the man who had just kissed her into mindless oblivion, whose face had taken on a judicial look.

‘You conceited, supremely amoral beast. How dare you take liberties with me and then try placating me with a lame attempt at an apology? Weren’t you satisfied with the humiliation you inflicted on me two nights ago without doing that? I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve just done, Alex. Ever. If you ever touch me again…’ she told him with a quiet firmness, ‘I will fight you with my dying breath.’

Her words scorched Alex’s soul with its fierce, despairing passion. ‘You won’t fight me, Angel. I know you. I know how you feel.’

‘No, you don’t,’ she cried, her cheeks and eyes blazing hot, fists tightly clenched as she struggled to contain her rioting emotions. ‘No one knows how or what I feel. No one. When you asked my opinion of Miss Howard, I told you she was heartless and cold. The same applies to you, Alex. Should you decide to make her your wife, I wish you joy with her. You deserve each other.’

Alex was disgusted with himself, disgusted and contrite. Angelina was right. He was cold and callous for ridiculing her, for mocking her feelings. His passion for her was torn asunder by guilt. It had to end. In the past hard logic and cold reason had always conquered his lust—with Angelina it was different. He had to purge her out of his mind before he was completely beaten and went insane—and if she continued living in the same house he would lose the battle. He was in danger of losing his heart to her, and he would not permit that. The stakes were too high.

He had no choice but to send her away.

When the last of the guests had left, in thoughtful and determined mood Alex joined Patience, Verity and Nathan in the sitting room.

‘I have come to the decision that it would be best for all concerned if Angelina returned to London with you,’ he stated without preamble.

Three pairs of eyes became glued to him. ‘What?’ they uttered, simultaneously.

‘You will have to go with her, of course, Aunt. She can stay with either you at Richmond or Nathan and Verity in Hanover Square for the time being. It really doesn’t matter which. Notify Bramwell at my house in Brook Street, and when Uncle Henry returns from Cornwall he’ll naturally know not to come to Arlington. He’ll understand why I had to do this.’

‘Will he!’ Verity exclaimed, not at all pleased with what her cousin had decided. ‘Well, we don’t.’

‘It is time she went, Verity—she—she’s too much of a disruption.’

Verity gasped, unable to believe what she was hearing. ‘That’s an excuse and quite ridiculous, Alex, and you know it. The only disruptions Angelina has caused are inside you. Angelina is a nuisance only in upsetting the precarious balance of your temper.’ Alex threw her a withering look, but she was not deterred. ‘Goodness. You can’t send her away. She’s just beginning to settle down. Have you any idea how much Arlington has come to mean to her?’

‘She can visit. She’ll settle down just as well in London. I don’t want her here,’ Alex said with icy finality.

Wearily Patience sighed, determined to fight for Angelina. ‘Please don’t do this to her. Do not forget so soon that when Henry brought her to England she had lost everything. You are familiar with death and the loss of a parent, Alex—or have you forgotten that?’ Patience reminded him.

Her words hit their target with such force Alex tensed, his jaw tightened and his hands clenched. Patience pressed her advantage, but she knew as she spoke that Alex’s mind was made up and nothing would change it. ‘Angelina is still very young, Alex, and she has come to love and trust us, to see us as her family. Try to remember how it was for you when you found yourself alone. You were in the same situation as Angelina. Please do not make her feel unwanted by sending her away.’

Alex could not be swayed. ‘My mind is made up. She goes to London.’ His gaze slid to his cousin, sitting ramrod straight beside her mother. Verity was incensed and he knew it. ‘What’s on your mind, Verity?’ he demanded. ‘I can see you’re in high dudgeon about this.’

Verity’s eyes snapped to his. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘I know.’ His eyes appealed to Nathan, who had moved away to take a natural stance by the window. ‘Nathan, can you not exert your husbandly influence and persuade your wife to guard her tongue?’

Nathan smiled wryly. ‘I’m afraid not, Alex. She’s too much like you in that,’ he reminded him.

‘Not entirely,’ Verity objected, shooting her husband a look of annoyance.

‘Well, perhaps not quite,’ Nathan conceded.

Verity rose to face Alex, and they stood in the centre of the room, their gazes clashing—cousins, with the same unyielding Montgomery blood in their veins. ‘I always thought you took your responsibilities seriously.’

‘I do.’

‘No, you don’t,’ she contradicted angrily, as she prepared to do battle on Angelina’s behalf with the hardened cynic. ‘Uncle Henry placed Angelina in your care, and after just three weeks you’ve had enough and have decided to pack her off back to London. You’re heartless, Alex. Do you know that?’

He grimaced. ‘I have been accused of being so on occasion.’

‘And unjust.’

Glaring down at her from his superior height, Alex’s eyes turned to shards of ice. ‘You go too far, Verity.’

‘It’s about time someone did. I am extremely tired of watching everyone pussyfoot around you in fear of offending or annoying you. It’s little enough to ask you to let Angelina stay at Arlington until Uncle Henry returns from Cornwall.’

Alex was quickly beginning to lose his temper. ‘No. Angelina goes to London,’ he said flatly. ‘Verity, whatever you may think of me, I am no fool—and I know Uncle Henry better than he thinks. However, I never thought I would see the day when he would play Cupid. Do you think I don’t know why he went to Cornwall, leaving Angelina in my care—that I cannot see what you are all trying to do that you have some idiotic romantic notion of bringing us together? Can you deny it?’

Confronted with the truth, with guilt written all over her face, Verity didn’t reply, but she had the grace to look contrite and some of the anger drained from her face

‘It won’t work, Verity. Forget it. You too, Aunt Patience,’ Alex said on a gentler note when he addressed his aunt. ‘I know you are capable of setting a town alight when you put your heads together—and Uncle Henry is an interfering old rogue. He has played an important role in my life, and the gratitude and love I feel for him is immeasurable. But I will not marry Angelina out of mere sentimentality. I know both you and my uncle mean well, Aunt. But you don’t always know what’s best for me. I will not be influenced or manipulated by anyone over this.’

In a desperate attempt to soothe the situation before it erupted into open warfare, Patience stepped in. ‘You are right. Henry is an old rogue, but his interference—if that is what it is—is kindly meant. He is of the opinion that the best way of restoring your zest for life is to revive your appetite for love.’

‘Good God, Aunt Patience!’ Alex expostulated, astounded to hear his aunt utter such drivel. ‘To hear such talk from you I can only assume there must be a decline in your reading standards. I have repeatedly condemned such trivial and uninstructive reading flooding the market and always thought you above such rubbish. Contrary to what my uncle thinks there is nothing wrong with my “zest for life”. And as for reviving my “appetite for love”—how can something be revived that was never there in the first place?’

Patience refused to let go of the argument. ‘But Angelina is a rare treasure, Alex. Any man would be proud to have her as his wife.’

‘I agree. But not me. You seem to have forgotten that I am on the brink of offering for Lavinia Howard.’

‘You are?’

‘I am considering it. But whatever I decide, I am not marrying Angelina and that is final.’

After pinning all their hopes on a union between them, Alex’s harsh words doused all Patience’s and Verity’s expectations. Alex ignored their despondency, knowing he’d dashed their scheme, but it had needed saying.

‘Take Angelina to London,’ he went on. ‘Give her a Season and find her a husband—which shouldn’t be difficult, given the fact that every male I invited to Arlington this weekend went away singing her praises and all more than halfway to being in love with her.’

‘Have you forgotten that Angelina has stressed time and again that she has no intention of marrying?’ Patience reminded him.

‘No. But I recall her saying that she did not want a Season, either—and she changed her mind pretty quickly about that. She’ll change her mind about marriage soon enough when she gets to London and has every rake in town sniffing after her. Uncle Henry won’t have long to wait before he has her off her hands,’ he said unkindly.

‘Alex! Do not speak like that. Why are you deliberately trying to be cruel?’ Patience reproached harshly. ‘I know you aren’t as unfeeling as you sound. And who’s going to tell her?’

‘I’ll save you all the trouble,’ came a quiet voice from the doorway.

Every eye turned towards the door to see Angelina standing there, unable to believe what she had heard—Alex was sending her away.

Her world tilted crazily. There was no room in her sights for anyone except Alex. She beheld the faint widening of his eyes as they turned on her, but his expression was as inscrutable as a marble mask. She found it difficult to endure his gaze, but she did, his words sounding inside her head like a death knell.

Displaying a calm she did not feel, as she crossed the room she managed with a painful effort to dominate her disappointment and accept the slap fate had dealt her. She must blot from her mind the events of last night, the exquisite sweetness of Alex’s kiss. Jerking her mind from such weakening thoughts her eyes encompassed the other three, having decided not to make an uncomfortable scene.

‘Would you mind if I spoke to Alex alone?’

With a pained expression Patience moved to her side and gently squeezed her hand. ‘Of course not, my dear. I think it’s as well that you do,’ she said, bestowing on her nephew a cross, disapproving look.

‘Angelina, I am so sorry,’ Verity said, looking extremely concerned.

She managed a faint smile. ‘It’s all right, Verity. Truly. I always knew I would have to leave some time.’

When they were alone, Alex raised one brow in arrogant inquiry, knowing she had heard his remark and unprepared to refute it—which was no consolation for Angelina. Why did he adopt this cold, remote, almost hostile attitude to her? Was it possible he was ashamed of the way he had behaved towards her, or was his hunger for her so great that he couldn’t bear to be close to her? She hoped it was the latter, but the way he was looking at her made her discount it. Her eyes met his proudly.

‘So! You really think that, do you, Alex? That as soon as the rakes and fops in London begin paying me attention and whispering sweet nonsense in my ear, I am so silly and weak that I will be unable to resist them and reverse my decision not to wed?’

‘Why not?’ His mouth curled with irony. ‘You were eager enough to yield to me when I held you in my arms.’

His cutting tone and the injustice of his words increased Angelina’s anger. But it was the way he retained his arrogant superiority that was hard for her to take. ‘I don’t know why you are being deliberately cruel to me, Alex, but as I recall, you gave me little choice. I did not invite you to kiss me. In fact, if you will cast your mind back, you will recall that I begged you not to.’

‘I admit that I behaved in a manner for which I am ashamed and regretful,’ he said, his voice curt, thinking when he looked at her how hard it was going to be sending her away.

‘You? Ashamed? Are you quite sure you know the meaning of the word?’ she scoffed. Drawing herself up proudly, she showed him that she too could be hard and cold. He would never know how much he had hurt her. ‘And if Uncle Henry really wanted me off his hands, he would not have encumbered himself with me in the first place. He is warm and generous—unlike you, a man whose heart is encased in ice.’

Angelina expected the words she flung at him to get a reaction, but, except for a glacial hardening of his eyes and a muscle that began to twitch in his jaw, there was none.

‘Do you mind telling why you are dismissing me as though I were an untouchable?’ she asked. She knew the answer, but wanted to hear him say it. ‘What have I done that makes you treat me so despicably?’

Everything, Alex thought wretchedly. She was too much of a threat to his sanity. He couldn’t live in the same house with her any longer if he was to have any peace. Everywhere he turned she seemed to be there, ready to ensnare him, and when she was absent his need to see her made him seek her out. He was furious with himself for feeling like this—for wanting her. He’d never realised that sexual desire for her would become a complication. Better that she was away from him altogether, before she disrupted his whole life.

‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘At least, not intentionally. You will stay with Aunt Patience until Uncle Henry gets back from Cornwall. Now you have decided to be launched into society, you can begin preparing for it. According to Verity it’s time consuming, so you cannot begin too soon.’

Angelina could hear the absolute finality in his voice that told her it would be futile to argue. ‘Then there is nothing more to be said. I thank you for your hospitality, Alex,’ she said with the polite cordiality of one of his guests who had just departed. ‘I have enjoyed my stay at Arlington, and I am now ready to return to London.’ Her words were of resignation, not defiance.

Suddenly Alex looked at her with unexpected softness. Surprised by the change in his expression, she opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her and, taking a deep breath, continued, ‘You have to go, Angelina. You must. I want you to go. There are some things you cannot understand.’

Angelina’s face was a pale, emotionless mask as she turned from him and crossed to the door. Her heart and mind felt empty, and she was chilled to the marrow, and even now, when she was desperate with the thought of leaving him, she had to ask herself why it should hurt so much, and to question what was in her heart.