Regency Angel

Chapter 6

"I don't like this," the countess hissed at her son once the other gentleman had left to meet Fanny in the front hall.

Her son lifted his arms and shrugged, as if to say he could do nothing about the situation.

Angel resolved to speak to Fanny about her cavalier attitude toward the nanny and her obvious preference for Mr. Powers. Mr. Forde, too, was now on her list of people to speak to. It would all have to wait, however, and she decided to go for a walk.

"That is an excellent idea, Miss Singletary," the countess warmly approved when told of her intention. "We have a lovely orchard full of spring blossoms."

That was agreeable to Angel and she allowed the earl to give her directions once she had fetched the gray bonnet and cloak that constituted Miss Singletary's outerwear.

She spent some time wandering through the formal gardens close to the house before going through the gate in the yew hedge. That took her onto a lane that was bordered by the hedge on one side and horse pastures on the other.

A couple of interested equines came to the fence for a nose pat, but when they determined she was not carrying treats, they lost interest.

The orchard was just past the hedge, and Angel lingered a while just breathing in the scented air. She loved spring, with its newness and sense of rebirth.

Something struck her on the top of her ugly bonnet, followed by some childish giggles.

"Hello?" she called, but the only answer she received was another giggle from over her head. She looked up to find three pairs of bright, inquisitive blue eyes staring at her. They belonged to three tow-headed boys.

"You hit a lady, Cort!" one of them whispered. "What if his lordship hears about it?"

"What if she's the new countess?" the middle one wondered. "We should ask."

Angel only stood there and smiled. "Won't you come down?" she asked.

"No, miss. We might get in trouble."

"I shall not tell anyone you threw a ... what was that you hit me with?"

"Nothing, miss, really. Only a very small pebble."

"Oh. Do you make a habit of throwing rocks at people?"

"Oh, no, miss!" the one who looked to be the eldest exclaimed.

"Then come down and let me greet you properly."

"We can't, miss. Jon got his foot caught in a limb."

"Then, if you cannot come down, I suppose I should come up." Before they could say anything, Angel had indecorously lifted her skirts and was up in the crotch of the tree. She inspected Jon's foot, which was truly caught, and slipped off his shoe. "Now try it," she urged. His foot slid right out.

"You are a hero, miss!" the one called Jon said.

"Hardly that. Angel, perhaps, but not a hero." She held out a hand. "Angel Singletary. And you are Jon."

"Jonathan Miller, miss. These are my brothers. Cris is the eldest and Cort is the baby."

"Am not a baby!"

"Mama calls you her baby!" Cris teased.

"Do you live around here?" Their clothes were well-made, but worn, and there were patches on their breeches.

"We rent a cottage from his lordship," Cort told her.

"But we used to live in a big house!" Jon said. "Grandpapa died and our uncle only gives us a sty ... stip..."

"An allowance," Cris finished for his brother. "Because our aunt don't like us none. She has all girls."

"Cris is uncle's heir, but our aunt said that don't mean she has to put a roof over his head in the meantime."

"I see." Angel was beginning to get a picture of how these lads had been raised -- in some luxury until the death of their grandfather.

"Mama is sick," Cort told her. "So Lettie sent us out to play."

"Mama's always sick," Jon said mournfully.

"Shall I let you introduce me, then, and perhaps we might think of a way to cheer her up?" Angel suggested.

That idea met with happy shouts, and Angel, whose first thought was perhaps their mother was depressed or drank too much, revised her opinion.

"Why don't we take her some apple blossoms?" That suggestion was met with silence.

"The orchard man don't like us," Cort said.

"No? Then we shall gather some now and make a run for it." And if they were detained, she would tell the groundskeeper that she was a guest at the manor.

Fortunately, that was not necessary. After they gathered some small limbs with blossoms, they took a lane that ran between two pastures, away from the orchard. Not a soul was to be seen until they reached a stone cottage nestled in a grove of old oaks, perfect for climbing. There they were met by a sour-faced servant wringing her hands.

"Where have you young masters been? Your poor mama has been asking for you. Who is this?" She gave Angel a suspicious look.

"Miss Singletary rescued Jon from a tree!" Cort said, jumping up and down. "Come on in and meet Mama!" he added, grabbing Angel by the hand and pulling her past the maid.

"May we have some tea served, please, Lettie?" Cris begged as Angel was dragged into a parlor, where a sweet-faced lady was resting on a sofa, a shawl across her knees.

"Cort, darling!" she called, holding out both arms and allowing the little boy to fling himself at her. "Who is this?"

"Miss Singletary, Mama!" Jon said, bouncing into the room. "She rescued my foot from a tree. And we brought you something!" He held out the bouquet of apple limbs.

"Apple blossoms! My favorite! How do you do, Miss Singletary? Sit down, please, and tell me how you met my rascals!"

Angel sat where Cris, at her elbow, guided her, and smiled her thanks. "I was walking in the orchard..."

"Oh, boys! Were you in the earl's orchard again?" Mrs. Miller cried. "What have I told you about that?"

"Miss Singletary was there, too, Mama! The earl said she could!"

"But you do not have such permission!" she scolded.

"I could get them approved, if you wish," Angel said. "They were not harming the trees." And would continue not to, if she had not set a bad example by breaking off a few limbs already.

The boys all nodded and gave their mother winning grins. Angel could not help but smile.

"What am I going to do with you three?" was all Mrs. Miller could reply. "Crispin -- run put these in some water, will you? Jonathan, darling, Mummy needs another shawl from upstairs. Cortland... go see if Lettie needs help with tea." When the lads were gone, she turned to Angel. "Thank you again for helping Jon. But it is not necessary to bother the earl..." She gave Angel a wide-eyed look. "Oh! Are you to be the new countess?"

Angel laughed. "No, I am that lady's companion. And it is no bother at all, for me or for the earl, I am certain. He is a kind-hearted gentleman."

"He is. When my sister-in-law..." She paused.

"The boys told me some of what happened. People do not realize they shall reap what they sow, do they?" Angel replied.

"No, they do not. We would not have asked for much. We do not require much here, actually. But it would have been good for Crispin to learn how to run the estate from his uncle. And with such treatment as he has received, who knows if Crispin will turn around and toss his aunt and nieces on their ears one of these days? I should hope not."

"A bad turn does not deserve another," Angel agreed.

"No, it does not." She shrugged just as her two younger boys ran back into the room.

"Mama! Lettie made gingerbread for our tea!"

Mrs. Miller smiled at the eager expressions on her sons' faces.

"You must stay for tea, Miss Singletary. Gingerbread is Lettie's specialty."

"Yes, thank you, I would be delighted to join you."

Angel could add the fragrance and taste of Lettie's gingerbread to her growing list of reasons it was good to be mortal again. The taste was heavenly. Not to mention the happy faces around her as the boys munched their afternoon treat.

"Mama, may we be excused?" Cris asked when he and his brothers were finished. "You do not mind, Miss Singletary?" he politely added.

"No, of course not, if it is all right with your mother." The boys were dismissed, they bowed correctly and then ran from the room with wild whoops.

"I fear I shall have to send Crispin off to school soon," Mrs. Miller said with a sigh. "I had thought to ask the vicar to give him lessons, because that was how it was arranged at our previous home, but I do not know..."

Angel did not know either. "I do not think Mr. Powers an appropriate ecclesiastical role model, personally." She was not going to gossip about Fanny, but she could make sure Crispin did not fall under the man's influence. She was relieved when Mrs. Miller only nodded and did not press her for details.

The boys walked Angel back as far as the orchard, and she promised she would speak to the earl the very next day about them playing in the apple trees. She arrived back at the manor in time for more tea with the countess and Fanny, who were being coolly polite to each other and seemed glad for more company.

"Did you enjoy your walk?" Lady Willingham enquired.

"I did, and I met the most charming young men while I was out."

Fanny perked up from where she had been languishing on a chaise. "Young men? Where?"

Angel grinned. "Past the orchard pastures. They live with their mother in what I believe is called Stone Cottage?" She looked to the countess for affirmation.

"It is a lovely place. A family by the name of Miller are the tenants there, I believe."

"Yes, Miller. The lady has three sons."

"Three sons?" Fanny sat upright. "I should like to meet them!"

"And so you shall! We could go for a walk tomorrow afternoon," Angel said. She looked at the countess, who was trying not to laugh.

"Yes, I would like that very much!"

Dear Heavenly Father... I thank Thee for today and its many blessings. I know they are all gifts from Thee.

Angel was down on her knees on the hearth rug, making a report, as it were, to headquarters.

I may have discovered one of our eternal foes, and if he is, he dares to operate under the guise of Thy minions. I pray for guidance in the handling of such a creature, for he is in a prime position to do much harm. Awareness is the key, Father, and he may have shown his hand too early. That he suspects Thy servant is inconsequential. As Thy chosen instrument, I pray for the courage and strength to be up to this task.

She sighed. Here came the difficult part.

Thy will be done in all things, but does it have to include Fanny, Lord? Thou hast infinite wisdom and knowledge, but she does not. She is probably the silliest of Thy creatures, Father, and I cannot understand Your plan in this instance. I pray that Thou whilst show me the way to deal with such a hen-witted chit.

As for Mr. Forde, I pray he will stay out of my way so that I may do my work and return to my home with Thee. And concerning Mr. Powers ... Thy will be done, Father, and may I use Thy guiding hand to smite the creature of Satan so he is powerless to stop what must be done.

May Thy blessings be upon Lady Willingham and her son, Nanny Baker, the Miller family, Fanny and yes, even Mr. Forde. Amen.

With a lighter heart and a heavy load of work ahead of her, Angel rose from the floor, climbed into bed and blew out her candle. The sooner she went to sleep, the sooner she could wake up and complete her mission.

Chapter 7

The next morning, Fanny was once again absent from breakfast, but this time so were the gentlemen. A footman told Angel they had been called out on estate business, and she found herself dining in solitude. She was never the sort to have to be surrounded by people, and this suited her just fine.

Afterwards, she wondered what to do with her morning, and decided that since she was not going to be able to speak to the earl straightaway, she could take the pony trap to Nanny Baker's cottage. She wished to know more about the Miller family, as well, and she was certain Nanny would be a font of information.

She was absolutely correct. As soon as Nanny had her settled in a cushiony chair by the fire, tea in hand, Angel asked what she thought of the Millers and was rewarded with a wide smile.

"Bright young lads! Helpful, too. I met them a few months ago, just after they moved to Stone Cottage. The lads bring me kindling now and I have them started on my garden. Too soon to plant, of course, but there is plenty of work to be done just the same. I take it you've met the imps?"

"Yes, and I was much taken with them. What about their mother?"

"The poor dear. A wasting disease, or so I've been told. I fear for the lads after she's gone. Their uncle is Viscount Portnoy."

Angel was not sure what she meant by that.

"He lives not ten miles from here," Nanny explained.

"That close!"

"He gives the lady an allowance, and he will provide for their educations, but his wife won't let them live even as close as the Portnoy dower house."

"Master Crispin is the lord's heir, I understand."

"He is, but you won't see him even allowed near the estate until the current lord dies. Which could be years."

"And in the meantime, their mother is dying. What then?"

"School for all of then, no doubt."

"The poor boys!"

"'Tis sad. They will need a steady home. But there is nothing you nor I can do now, is there?"

"No, not at the moment..." Angel softly replied. If there was a chance she did not need her three assists on David and Fanny, however, she knew what she would do.

They moved on to other topics of discussion, neither mentioning Fanny and her seeming unwillingness to meet some of the important people in the earl's life. They were both startled, then, when there was a knock at the kitchen door.

"Excuse me, dearie..." Nanny apologized. She got up slowly and went to answer the door. When she returned in a few moments, she was as white as a sheet.

"What is it?"

"Oh, dear. How shall I say this? My visitor was a maid up to the vicarage ... At great risk to herself she came to find you. She'd gone to the manor first, but a groom she walks out with said you'd gone out in the trap."

"But why did she want to find me?"

"Miss Eaton, it appears, has called on the vicar. Alone."

"Merciful heavens! She shall be ruined!" And so would a great many plans.

"Precisely."

"I must go, then. I have to go to the vicarage." As distasteful as that was. "...And make it appear as if she and I had gone there together."

"I'm going with you," Nanny insisted, and Angel did not protest. The more respectability they could give this situation, the better.

"I don't trust that man any further than I can throw him," Nanny muttered later as the trap neared the rear of the vicarage.

"Oh?"

"He grew up with Master David, so I had the handling of them both. A sweeter pair of lads I've never seen."

"Better than Mr. Forde?"

Nanny chuckled. "Lord love you, there was never a bigger scamp than Master Roderick. But Master David and Master Edmund were a couple of angels. Begging your pardon."

"Think nothing of it. If Mr. Powers was so sweet, what happened?"

"After university, he went to London. Was to minister to poor in the East End,."

"I thought the late earl had promised him this living."

"He didn't want it, not then. A couple of months after he was ordained and living in London, he reappeared, a changed man. The old earl fell ill then and Mr. Powers began badgering him about the living. I've heard it was extracted from the old lord on his deathbed."

"That is what the vicar himself claims. Proudly, I might add."

"He's too full of himself," Nanny mumbled. "Stop the cart here, dearie, and run along through the kitchens. Ivy will take care of you from there. I'll unhitch the pony and be along shortly."

Angel wasted no time going into the house and presenting herself to Ivy, who looked relieved to see her.

"I have a sister at the manor, miss, and I've heard tell Mr. Powers has been cozying up to his lordship's intended. When she showed up here alone today, you could have knocked me down with a feather!" She motioned for Angel to follow her through the house.

They had to wait until the vicar excused himself for a moment and went from the one room to another, and then Angel slipped into the parlor and sat demurely by Fanny's side, ignoring the girl's surprise.

"What are you doing here?" Fanny whispered.

"What are you doing here?" Angel whispered back. She deserved a nice, long vacation on a cloud somewhere after this mission.

"Paying calls."

"On your own, without even a maid?"

"Betsy had other duties."

"There are other maids! And footmen!"

Fanny shrugged. "I was ready to go and for some reason, my companion had already left the house."

"You were asleep! I am supposed to sit around until you wake up?"

"You always have before!"

"Where else was I going to go?"

"True. Shhh! Here he comes!" They could hear the vicar's footsteps in the hall, and then there was a knock at the front door and he went to answer it. Fanny paled when she heard the voice of her fiancé.

"It's David!"

"Why should you care?"

"He is my fiancé! Unless you hitched your horse up front, mine is the only one there!" Her eyes were wide with panic.

Silly widgeon! She should have put it in back so the whole world would not think she had been there alone.

"Miss Eaton!" David said a bit coldly as he walked into the room. "And Miss Singletary!" He seemed to thaw before their eyes and when his cousin came in right on his heels, Angel was quite satisfied with the vicar's double take.

"My cousin's message said you were here alone and in some need of assistance!" the earl said to Fanny.

"Most people tend to overlook companions as people, my lord," Angel replied. "but even so, I imagine the message just got garbled."

"Then why is there only one mount?" Mr. Forde asked shrewdly, entering last.

"Because she is a kind lady and was humoring an old woman," Nanny Baker announced, poking him in the ribs as she came in. "But it's not polite to ask why in mixed company, Master Roderick."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, but did not appear embarrassed. Angel was beginning to think the man had no shame at all.

"Well, isn't this cozy," Nanny continued, plunking herself down on the sofa between Fanny and Angel. "You've a lovely intended, Master David, and I was as pleased as punch to be visited by both young ladies today. 'Tis no wonder I tagged along when they said they were calling here. Ah, here is Ivy with the tea you asked me to order, Master Edmund."

Ivy came in with a tray and set it down on a low table in front of the ladies.

"Will you pour out, Nanny Baker?" the vicar requested without batting an eyelid. He appeared to have recovered quickly enough from his earlier surprise. "I apologize for my messenger," he said to his cousin as Fanny passed around cups of tea. "He must have misunderstood. I wished to invite you to join us, as I had found myself alone with these lovely ladies."

With that explanation, David seemed to relax even more.

"Well, Nanny, what do you think of her?" that young gentleman asked.

"Charming," Nanny lied without missing a beat. "We've had an enjoyable outing, haven't we, my dear?"

"Yes, Nanny, we have," Fanny quickly replied.

The only good thing about all this, Angel surmised, was that Fanny was now in Nanny's debt. She would now have to call sometime and thank the old lady.

After tea and some inconsequential small talk, the ladies said they must leave.

"We will escort them back home," Mr. Forde told the vicar.

"If you insist." He walked them all to the front door, but once they had taken their leave and were outdoors, Angel realized her cart was in the rear of the house. She walked around to where Nanny had placed the pony trap and was leading her little workhorse back to the front when she heard voices coming from an open window.

"You could not even deliver a simple message, could you?" the vicar said loudly.

"I delivered it just as you said, sir!"

"Then the women turned it around to cover for that idiot Fanny! Just when I had her where I wanted her! She's not responding as quickly to my flirtations as I had expected and her friends won't let her get caught in a compromising position. I shall have to think of something else." He sounded as if he were talking to himself.

"Sir?"

"Never mind. What main event is coming up?"

"There is the spring hunt, sir."

"Yes, the hunt! We shall have to arrange an accident for David there, I suppose."

Angel was afraid of discovery, and she had heard enough, so she moved on.

The gentlemen and Fanny escorted Angel and Nanny back to the woman's cottage, and then went on to the manor with the young ladies. Fanny was silent and sullen, and Angel had time to mull over what she had overheard at the vicarage.

The vicar was now certainly the agent she had been seeking. The personality change, the badgering of the old earl on his deathbed to get a position close to his cousin... It all fit the way the dark angels worked.

She was surprised at Mr. Forde, though. She was so certain the day before that he, too, was anxious to end this engagement, especially when he had insisted Fanny accompany him in driving the vicar home. She needed to know more about that...

In the meantime, the earl had slowed his horse and allowed his uncle and Fanny to take the lead.

"I have a feeling all was not as it seemed today," he said to her, as if sensing an ally.

"I cannot really say, my lord. But I do have a question that is unrelated to today's events," she added, eager to change the subject.

"Yes?"

"It concerns the young Miller boys. Might they be allowed to play in the orchard? They promise not to disturb the trees overly much, but you have to admit, the trees are perfect for climbing. I was in one myself yesterday."

The earl laughed. "You were in the tree?"

"I like to climb," she said with a shrug. She was not going to tell on the lads.

"And they will not break off branches?" he asked.

"No. Although I cannot guarantee they won't pick up fallen limbs and make them into guns and swords." It seemed to be the way of small boys, in her vast experience.

He nodded. "Then I shall allow the privilege. But one mess and I may revoke that."

"Understood, my lord."

"What are you two discussing back there?" Fanny asked with a pout.

"The Millers," the earl replied.

"Oh! We must go visit them!" she exclaimed. "This very afternoon!"

The earl was just about to ask if she liked children when Angel made her pony balk, and the question was forgotten as David stopped to assist her.

Chapter 8

Fanny did not cavil at Angel's suggestion that they walk to Stone Cottage, and after a quiet luncheon at the manor, they set out. They went through the gardens, down the yew hedge lane, where Angel had remembered to bring fruit for the horses this time, and then between the two pastures and into the oak grove.

"What an adorable house!" Fanny exclaimed. "But with three young men living here... It must be rather cramped."

"It did not seem so to me yesterday, but then, the young men are quite thin."

As they approached, the three boys came running out, hollering for Angel. They threw themselves at her for hugs and then bowed to Fanny.

"Fanny, may I introduce Masters Crispin, Jonathan and Cortland Miller?"

Fanny was surprised for the second time that day, if her quick intake of breath and glaring at Angel were any indication. Angel stifled a laugh.

"How do you do?" Fanny retreated behind her social mask to cover her shock.

"Come meet Mama!" Crispin suggested, taking Fanny's hand and dragging her into the house. Angel followed with the other two lads.

"Three young men?" Fanny whispered to Angel when she paused in the parlor door.

"You never asked how young."

"I should make you pay for this!"

"You already have," Angel muttered before they were swept forward by the boys to meet Mrs. Miller.

Later, at one point in the conversation, Crispin mentioned the orchard and Angel assured him they had permission from the earl to climb the apple trees. All three boys let out whoops of joy.

Fanny looked as if she wanted to snap at them for being so loud, but Mrs. Miller smiled so widely at their enthusiasm, Angel stepped on Fanny's toes and indicated the other lady. Fanny had the good grace to keep her mouth shut.

The next morning, Angel stayed close to the house in case Fanny decided to run off again. But she could not stay indoors -- the house felt too confining. Instead, she took a turn in the garden.

She had just located the herb garden when a shadow across her path told her she was not alone. It was Mr. Forde.

"Good morning, Miss Singletary."

"Mr. Forde."

"We did not see you at breakfast."

"I had a tray in my room, sir, in case Miss Eaton wished my companionship."

"Ah, yes. We cannot allow the lady to wander off on her own now, can we?"

"Not unchaperoned, no."

"How old are you?" he asked. "Old enough to be that chaperone?"

"I am 25, sir."

"With no prospects?"

"Did we not cover this once already?"

"Humor me. You are pretty enough, now that you are doing your hair differently and wearing less frightful clothes. Why do you not look for a husband?"

"I can think of a lot of good reasons why I should, but only one truly great reason why I should not."

"And that is..."

"None of your business. Speaking of which, why do you meddle in your nephew's affairs?"

"Why do you?"

"It is my job to see Fanny safely married to her earl. I cannot do that, sir, when you insist on encouraging her to flirt with the vicar!"

"Have you ever heard the phrase ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer,' Miss Singletary?"

"Sun Tzu. But who is your enemy, Mr. Forde? Miss Eaton or Mr. Powers?"

"Perhaps both. Until two days ago, that is. Before that, I thought my nephew did not need to marry for money. I thought he had pulled this estate out of a hole and everything was putting itself to rights."

"But..."

"But yesterday I saw two things that made me change my mind. One was the account books. Yes, David is doing better than expected in putting the estate and the family finances back together again. However, it is not enough. He does need to marry for money. And secondly, I saw his face when he thought the flighty Miss Eaton had deserted him for the vicar."

"He loves her?"

Mr. Forde sighed. "It is sad, isn't it? But it appears to be true. I cannot understand the attraction, really."

Neither could Angel, but she wasn't going to say so. "Opposites truly attract."

"I am amazed that it is so in this instance. At any rate, I am ashamed of encouraging Miss Eaton to follow Powers. He is not the sort of man one wants for one's daughters. It is a shame. He used to be so respectable."

"That is what I have heard."

"Nanny does like to talk."

Angel laughed. "How did you know it was she ... Never mind. As long as we are on the same side now, I must tell you what I heard yesterday." She needed to tell someone. "When is the spring hunt?"

"Tomorrow."

Angel let out a yelp. "Then we need to do something quickly! Mr. Powers wants to kill David and he is going to make an attempt at the hunt!"

"What? How do you know? Where did you hear this?"

"Under a window at the vicarage."

"Whom did you hear?"

"Mr. Powers and what must have been his servant. Mr. Powers was berating the man for not delivering the correct message to Lord Willingham. It seems he set the entire situation up to discredit Fanny in your nephew's eyes."

"Then what did he say?"

"He said he was going to have to try something else, and when the servant mentioned the hunt, he said he would arrange to have David killed."

"Bloody hell! Now I am going to be required to stick to David's side..."

"What a pity," Angel said sarcastically. "It's only his life at stake, after all."

"No need to get snippy with me, Miss Singletary. I haven't had to stay at his side since he was a young lad. He is bound to ask questions."

"He does not need to know the truth until it is absolutely necessary." Angel had a sudden, chilling thought. "Where is he now?"

Mr. Forde looked at her in alarm. "He went for a ride."

"Surely Mr. Powers has not had time to concoct a plan based on such an impromptu decision?"

"That is just it, Miss Singletary. He almost always goes for a ride in the morning."

They realized they had already gone as far as the yew hedge, and so they picked up the pace of their walk as they decided to turn around. But it would take a run to get them back to the house quickly. Or to the stables.

"Psst! Miss Singletary!" a young male voice called from the other side of the hedge.

"Crispin?"

"Yes! And Jon!"

"Here!" Jon's voice cried.

"Miss Singletary! Come to the gate! We have something to tell you!"

"Not now, please," she said. "Something has come up."

"But Miss Singletary," Crispin begged, "we want to tell you about the stranger!"

Angel and Mr. Forde exchanged glances.

"Meet us at the gate, lads," Mr. Forde ordered. He did not have to tell them twice. And once they were face to face and introductions had been made, Mr. Forde took over.

"Tell me about the stranger," he commanded. "What did he look like?"

"He had a bang-up, prime bit of blood," Crispin said. He described a roan gelding for Mr. Forde.

"I meant his own person," the gentleman dryly replied. "But that will help."

"He had dark hair and was dressed all in black," Jon said helpfully.

"Did he have anything odd or unusual about him?"

"He had a scar on his lip," Crispin said.

"Top or bottom."

"Top. He looks like he is sneering."

"That should be easy enough to notice," Angel said with warm approval. "Someone like that ought to stand out in a village where everyone knows everyone else."

"Exactly. Thank you for the information, lads. You two run along home now, where it is safe," Mr. Forde ordered.

Angel was not surprised to see he was immediately obeyed. Not only did Mr. Forde have a commanding presence, but the boys lacked a father figure and so responded better to male authority.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Now you go back to the house and keep an eye on Miss Eaton. She is not safe, either. Powers is not going to rest easy until this engagement is broken one way or another, although it will be ideal in his way of thinking if David is completely out of the picture."

"Why is that?"

"Isn't it obvious, Miss Singletary? Powers is David's heir. If David dies without male issue, Powers is the next earl."

The walk back to the manor was brisk, but not silent.

"Tell me about your young friends," Mr. Forde asked.

"The Miller boys?" Angel could not help but smile. "There are three of them. You met the eldest two, Crispin and Jonathan. I wonder where Master Cortland was today?" Perhaps he had been with his mother. "They are Lord Portnoy's nephews."

"Ah, the late lord's grandsons, then. I had heard talk that Mrs. Miller had quarreled with the viscount and refused to let him raise her sons, especially his heir."

"Who told you that?"

"I do not know. Someone at my club, perhaps."

"That is not how the children present it."

"What did they say?" he asked curiously.

"That Lady Portnoy does not like them because she has only daughters and will not even let them live in the dower house."

"I have met Lady Portnoy. She is a sour-faced busybody. The lads are more likely to be correct than my source."

"Their mother is dying. I do not know what will happen to them at that point, but I pray God watches over them." They reached the terrace off the drawing room and she swept in ahead of him to find ... bedlam.

Fanny would not stop crying. "Dear God, not Willingham, not Willingham!" as if he were not even present, which he was. Angel wanted to slap her. If she got any more hysterical, she was going to have to do just that.

Lady Willingham was more stunned than anything by this new turn of events, and her brother was fixing tea for her with a liberal dollop of whisky.

"Who would want to hurt David?" she whispered. Angel sat next to her, holding her hand.

Lord Willingham was quiet, but then, he was the one who had been attacked by brigands on his way home.

"He is considered a good catch," Mr. Forde tried to joke with his sister, but the line fell flat. He looked at Angel, but she could only shrug.

Was this attack, of which Lord Willingham had escaped with a small cut on his arm that had barely penetrated the skin, related to the plans she had overheard, or not? She would not be surprised if Mr. Forde was thinking the same thing.

"What exactly happened?" he asked his nephew.

"I was riding on the main road, having just come from my solicitor's office, which had been an odd thing, as well."

"How so?" his uncle prompted.

"I received a note from him yesterday morning, asking for me to call on him today. That in and of itself was not unusual. I am waiting for the marriage settlement. But when I arrived at his office, he had no appointment with me. By some odd coincidence, the papers had arrived at his office yesterday afternoon, but he was just penning a note to me when I arrived. Also, he was planning to bring them to me."

He went on to tell about how he had been attacked by two men as he was coming home, but had managed to evade them with only the scratch.

Fanny started howling all over again, and Angel finally got to indulge herself and slap her. That worked, and afforded the companion no little satisfaction. She could repent later.

After dinner that evening, Mr. Forde engaged Angel in a game of piquet and the two sat off by themselves, where they might carry on a private conversation. Fanny had not come down to dinner, Lady Willingham was working half-heartedly on her embroidery and Lord Willingham was reading.

"Unless Powers was unwilling to tell his servant all his plots, it is possible he set up that ambush," Mr. Forde mused as they played.

"But how would he know exactly when the settlement papers would be delivered?"

"Perhaps he did not. Any excuse to get David out of the house would have sufficed and it was common knowledge he expected the papers any day."

"I have not heard him speak of it."

"Common knowledge among us men, then."

"I wonder at you even discussing all this with me if you think females should not be aware of male business," she tartly replied.

He looked at her with a puzzled expression. "I confess, I wondered at that myself. For some reason, you are not the mousy little creature Miranda had under her thumb all those years. I cannot figure out why not, so therefore I find you intriguing. And trustworthy."

"Thank you for the compliment," she dryly replied.

"It is a compliment. For me."

Angel was not required to reply, because the earl and his mother were having a discussion that had escalated suddenly to raised voices, and it gained their attention.

"I will not be kept indoors like a hothouse flower," the earl exclaimed. "I am going on the hunt tomorrow, Mama, and that is final!"

The countess began to weep and her son stormed out of the room.

Chapter 9

The day of the spring hunt dawned clear and bright, and even Fanny and the countess joined everyone else in the sunny breakfast parlor. Both were dressed for riding, although they both admitted they were not joining the hunt itself.

"Lord Anthony Birkthwaite always sponsors this event, but his lady will provide a comfortable place for those of us not riding," Lady Willingham told Angel. "And I shall be able to introduce Miss Eaton to some of my friends."

"You shall not be needed," Fanny airily added, but Angel was not so sure about that. At least she had an excuse not to go with the ladies, although she did her best to look the forlorn companion deprived of a treat.

She planned on attending the hunt, just not as anyone expected. But first she needed some information from Mr. Forde.

Appealing to Fanny's vanity, she suggested that a few adjustments needed to be made to that lady's coiffure so that her hair would not be mussed when she removed her riding hat in front of Lady Anthony. That, in turn, made the countess wonder if the same might happen to her, and she followed Fanny out of the room, calling for her maid.

Artlessly, Angel then enquired after Lord Willingham's favorite mount, and whether or not he was up to the challenge of a hunt after being attacked the day before. With a worried frown, the earl excused himself and headed for the stables.

"Now that you have gone to the trouble of getting rid of everyone else, Miss Singletary," Mr. Forde drawled from behind his newspaper, "will I be next or did you wish to keep me here?"

The paper lowered and Angel could have sworn he was smiling. At least she thought that crooked shape of his lips was a smile.

"Tell me about the lay of the land and how the hunt might proceed," she requested without apology or preamble.

"Why?"

"Because we need to think about where a possible attack might happen."

"I shall be keeping a close eye on David and you shall be here. In the house."

"Are you certain that I will stay in the house?"

"I wish you to remain here, Miss Singletary."

"Why?"

"I do not wish to see any ladies getting hurt."

"I cannot promise to stay."

He sighed. "I know. But at least consider it, will you?" He caught her mulish expression and sighed once more. "I cannot make you remain, but neither am I going to tell you about the hunt. You shall not be on horseback, so you will not be able to keep up." He sounded so irritatingly smug to her.

"I would not be too certain about that."

Lord Willingham returned to the breakfast parlor and Mr. Forde excused himself to get ready to leave.

"So tell me, my lord," Angel asked as the earl sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee. "Is the terrain too difficult to hunt on around here?"

Armed with a bit of knowledge but no clue as to finding where she thought she needed to be, Angel waited until the others rode off and then headed for the stables.

Most of the grooms had gone to Lord Anthony's to assist with the horses and the hounds, but there was, thankfully, someone still available to hitch the pony to the cart for her.

She thought to stop and speak to Nanny Baker first, but aware of time slipping away from her, Angel went straight to where she could get the best information, quickly. Stone Cottage.

In the end, she did not have to go that far, although it took her a while to find the correct lane to the back of the estate, where she had always gone on foot. She finally located a rough road that brought her out at the other end of the orchard, where the boys were playing. They ran over, hailing her.

"Miss Singletary! Miss Singletary! May we have a ride?"

"I was coming to find you!" she exclaimed, relieved to have discovered them so soon. "I need your help."

The boys grinned, eager to be of assistance to their new friend.

"Do you know where the place they call The Clearing is?"

"Yes!" Crispin proudly exclaimed. "It is very close to where we used to live, and our Papa used to take us there for picnics."

"Get in, then." Crispin and Jonathan readily complied, but Cortland was reluctant for some reason.

"Mama will not like us going so far from home."

The other two began to complain, but Angel held up a hand. "You could do me the biggest favor, Master Cortland, if you would run tell your mama that I need your brothers for an emergency. Can you do that for me? This is very important."

He nodded.

"Good. And then I want you to stay with your mother. There are some very bad people wandering about today and I do not want you to get hurt. I won't let anything happen to your brothers, either, and I shall return them home as soon as I can."

Cortland nodded and ran off down the lane leading to Stone Cottage. Angel blew out a sigh of relief and turned the cart in the other direction. She was not quite sure where The Clearing was, but she knew it had to be off to the west.

When she and the Miller lads reached their destination, they were the only ones there.

"It's creepy out here," Crispin said with a shudder.

It was true. While the sun burned a bright hole into the cleared area, the surrounding vegetation was thick and lush. A perfect hiding place.

"I want to go home," Jonathan whispered.

"And so you shall," Angel briskly replied. "I want you boys to take the pony and cart back to his lordship's stables for me, please, and then go home and check on your mother and brother. Will you do that?"

"Yes, Miss Singletary." Both boys seemed relieved not to linger in what should have been a perfectly harmless glade. Angel was just glad she did not have to worry about them wanting to become heroic.

She gave them each a quick kiss on the cheek and then they were gone, leaving her to wonder where she should hide. There were two entrances to the open area -- one where she had come in from the east and another from the north.

Feeling vulnerable out in the open, she slipped into the thick undergrowth around a venerable oak tree, climbed up to where she could see back into the glade, and waited. There was no proof this would be the place an incident would happen, but David had told her the hunt often paused there to find its second wind. That guaranteed a maximum audience, but it also meant maximum witnesses to whatever the vicar had planned.

Angel had been intelligent enough to wear a neutral color for this outing -- brown. She blended in well with her surroundings and was virtually undetectable. Then she noticed a man in a tree nearby, dressed in green. With a gun in his hand. A dueling pistol. What in the name of...

A horn blew and a pack of dogs streamed into the clearing, baying at the tops of their lungs. The packmaster followed and got them calmed down and resting just as the riders appeared.

Angel noticed a few intrepid women among the group, but was not surprised, after learning of Lady Anthony's hospitality, that most were men. David and Mr. Forde were among those who had dismounted and were sharing silver flasks of spirits. The vicar was still in the saddle.

He was surrounded by a group of men who were discussing something in low voices, some of them shooting furtive glances over at the earl. Unfortunately, Angel was too far away to hear what they were saying, but it could not be anything good.

It wasn't. One of the gentlemen rode over to David and said something in an insulting tone and the earl turned red. The man walked off and Mr. Forde tried to hold David back as he tried to follow. David threw him off.

"She is my fiancée," he said loudly, "and I have the right to defend her."

A heated exchange between David and the other gentleman followed, with the earl finally crying out for the man to name his seconds.

A hush fell over the glade. Not even a bird twittered in the trees.

The vicar, a sly smile on his face, came in between the two men as if he were about to mediate.

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" he called, his ringing voice gaining the attention of everyone. "Let us not take this argument any further."

Angel found herself watching Mr. Forde, and he visibly relaxed at the vicar's words.

"No, let us not take this any further," Mr. Powers continued. "We should get this out of the way as soon as possible. David, name your seconds."

Angel gasped, as did several of the people down in the clearing. The vicar was advocating a duel!

"Now just a moment, Powers," Mr. Forde said. "This is neither the time nor the place, and I am certain it was all a misunderstanding on Chalmers' part. Right, Chalmers?"

"Nonsense!" Mr. Powers exclaimed before Chalmers could open his mouth. "He made a derogatory comment about the lady, and Willingham is ready to defend her honor. Do you want word to get back even before we return that he did not fight for his lady?"

Angel groaned. The vicar knew David would do anything to keep from having Fanny call off the engagement. She watched as the earl gave his uncle an apologetic shrug. Mr. Forde, knowing full well why he had to go through with this, sighed, stepped forward and offered his services as second. Chalmers named a nearby gentleman as his second, and pistols that the vicar just happened to have handy were produced.

Up in her tree, Angel snorted. Then a movement from the man in the other tree caught her attention and she thought she knew what he was planning to do. He was going to be ready to shoot David just as the other gentleman pulled his own trigger. She could do nothing about the man on the ground, not at the same time as the one in the tree, but if she could take out the hidden gunman...

Summoning up what small reserves of power she carried with her, she held her breath and watched as the two duelers turned their backs to each other and counted out twenty paces. They then turned and fired.

Angel had them in the corner of her eyesight as she concentrated on the man in the tree. She did not see Chalmers turn his gun toward the heavens and fire, nor did she see David wing his opponent in the arm. She was laughing at the other gunman, the one who had fumbled with his pistol at the last minute, causing him to drop it harmlessly into the underbrush below. Benign, divine intervention at its best, she thought smugly.

Disgruntled, the man climbed down after it, possibly to finish the job he had botched, but Angel hid the pistol from him until he gave up and left the scene.

No one noticed her in the tree, except for Mr. Forde. While everyone was tending to Chalmers and congratulating David, he sidled over to where she was still trying to stay hidden, and slipped into the bushes at the base of her tree.

"You may come out now, Miss Singletary," he drawled. "I hope you are satisfied that this potentially dangerous situation was so easily diverted, and that Chalmers deloped."

Angel allowed him to help her down out of the tree, trying to refrain from showing her delight in the outcome of this entire business.

"You knew I could not stay away," she said with a grin. "And yes, I am very satisfied with the results. I suppose that will be the end of the hunt, though."

"It is for me. And for you. Let me take you back before Sarah and Miss Eaton return and are in need of brandy and smelling salts. They can hardly avoid hearing about this, and it will no doubt take a toll on their nerves."

"And my nerves?" she enquired.

"Are made of steel. You'll do," he added in a soft voice. "You'll do very well."

She was suddenly confused about the meaning of his words. "Do very well as what?"

"As a companion, of course!" he said with a grin. "Now let's go home."

Chapter 10

The day after the hunt was wet and dreary, and the countess, who had taken to her rooms after learning of the duel, sent word to everyone that they were on their own as far as entertainment went. That did not bother Angel, but Fanny seemed out of sorts and unable to focus her energy on one thing.

After breakfast, she tried to settle on embroidery, but kept getting her silks tangled. Angel suggested she read a book, but Fanny could not concentrate on it and ended up tossing it across the room.

The gentlemen found a petulant Fanny and a complacent Angel in the library. Fanny was pacing in front of the fire, ranting about having nothing to do and Angel was curled up in a window seat, her shawl over her legs, trying to read. To no avail.

"What have you ladies been up to this morning?" David asked jovially as he and his uncle came into the room.

"Nothing!" Fanny exclaimed. "I shall go mad if I am not given a good idea for an activity any time soon."

Angel sighed. That was Fanny's problem in a nutshell, wasn't it? Her inability to entertain herself was the cause of many of her problems. Angel had to get her to think and act on her own, else David would live a miserable life trying constantly to amuse her.

"What sorts of things do you like to do?" she asked Fanny.

That question gave Fanny pause and she stopped her pacing to consider it.

"I like to sew ... I like to read..." These had both been rejected that morning and Angel was hard pressed not to pick up that book and throw it at her. "I like to play games..."

"Games? What types do you like?" Angel prodded. Lord Willingham and Mr. Forde remained silent, perhaps thinking that if Fanny could come up with her own solutions for once, it was best that they not interfere with the process.

"All sorts of games! Cards, charades, word games, guess games ... Hide and Seek..." She perked up. "That is it! Let us all play Hide and Seek!"

Mr. Forde rolled his eyes, but Angel glared at him until he reluctantly agreed. David was already congratulating his fiancée on her excellent suggestion and Fanny blushed at his praise. If yesterday's duel had one positive outcome, it would have to be the increasing closeness of Fanny and David. They were beginning to act like the betrothed couple they were.

If Angel could just keep them that way until the wedding, her work would be done.

They drew lots to determine the first seeker and that task fell to Angel. She merely shrugged and told them all to hide. Everyone else quickly left the room and she began to count.

When she reached one hundred, she tried to think where everyone would hide...

Lord Willingham was easy. She went to the study, stood staring at the desk for a moment and when she moved in closer to inspect underneath, the earl let out a whoop from where he had been hiding behind the door. He ran from the room and back to home base in the library before she could even give chase. Drats!

One down, though, and two to go. She hailed a passing footman and asked if he had seen either Mr. Forde or Miss Eaton. To her good fortune, he had seen Mr. Forde headed for the kitchens.

Angel found the green baize door that separated the staff from the family and went in slowly, not having yet been in the kitchens and servants' hall of this house. She found herself in a dark hall that went past a series of rooms -- butler's pantry, sitting room, laundry, kitchens, scullery ... It ended in a well-lit dining hall and a dead end.

"May I help you, miss?" one of the maids asked politely.

"Mr. Forde. I am seeking Mr. Forde."

"He was sitting in the kitchen with Cook a moment ago, miss, and then he crawled under the table," she was told. "I believe he has gone back abovestairs."

Drat! Those annoying men!

Angel sighed, thanked the girl and headed toward the door she had come in, when the maid suggested she take the other passage, which branched off between the laundry and the sitting room.

"It will take you quickly back to the library, miss."

Angel was grinning as she practically ran down the hall toward another baize door. It led into the formal dining room and she could see where such a route would be convenient for the servants. On the other side was the ballroom and Angel could not resist a quick peek inside.

Humming could be heard from somewhere in that room and Angel forgot all about Mr. Forde. Who would not go for easier prey? But where was Fanny hiding? Angel could not see anything but a stack of gilt chairs, a sideboard of some sort and a screen in front of the cold fireplace.

The screen was raised, with slim legs supporting it, and there were no feet visible underneath, so she could not be there. Angel padded softly about the room, checking the heavy velvet curtains for signs of life, but there was no Fanny. Angel looked behind the stacked chairs, just in case, but again, there was no one to be found.

She jostled the chairs with her elbow as she prepared to move on, and the stack tottered, the noise echoing around the cavernous room. The humming stopped.

It had to be the screen. Angel placed herself quickly between the screen and the door. Then she moved closer to the screen, aware that a chair had been placed behind it. Fanny must be up on the chair.

It was a calculated move more clever than Angel usually gave Fanny credit for.

"Tag!" she suddenly cried, springing in front of Fanny, who was crouched on the chair. She tapped her on the arm. "You are it!"

Angel raced for the door, determined to beat Fanny back to the library. The younger girl was quick, and brought up the rear in hot pursuit, but Angel was faster. When she got to the library, she made a dive for the sofa, which had been designated home base, only to realize at the last moment that Mr. Forde was seated in the center. She was sprawled across him, laughing, even as Fanny came tearing into the room.

"Angela!" she exclaimed, and then giggled.

"Er, sorry," Angel mumbled to Mr. Forde as she rolled off him and onto the floor. He rose immediately and helped her to her feet.

"You have a habit of being where you should not, Miss Singletary." His voice was stern, but his eyes twinkled merrily and she could have sworn he winked at her.

"Fanny is now the seeker," Angel said, which effectively put all the attention on the other girl.

"Yes, you must all go hide now," Fanny commanded. She sat down on the sofa, closed her eyes and began to count.

Angel lost no time in heading to the gallery, where scores of long-dead Willinghams looked down their aristocratic noses at her as she contemplated the plum velvet drapes at each long window.

There were small curved benches under most of the sets of glass panes that looked out on a dreary day, but one had a statue of Diana in front of it, and it was the curtains to the rear of the marble figure that were chosen to hide her.

She cocooned herself in the warm folds, confident that no one could find her. She stiffened in surprise, then, when she heard soft footsteps on the tiled floor. A maid, perhaps? No, the sound was too furtive.

She heard the steps come closer and closer, and then pause in front of her curtains.

Was it Fanny? No, it was too soon, unless Fanny cheated and sped up her counting, and Fanny would have been rummaging about in all the curtains before reaching Angel's. After hearing the humming in the ballroom earlier, she doubted Fanny would be able to maintain complete silence while she hunted.

Angel held her breath as she felt someone pull the curtain folds away from her, and she found herself face to face with a startled Mr. Forde.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Singletary. I'll just..."

There was another noise, this one louder and coming from the far end of the gallery. They looked at each other in alarm. Fanny!

Mr. Forde pulled the curtain fully around the both of them and when she began to protest, he cut the sound off in a way that Angel found effective, if not disconcerting. He kissed her.

Fanny could have walked by and checked every curtain personally and Angel would not have noticed. Her hands were trapped upon his chest between them, but if she had been allowed to move, she would have wrapped them up around his neck, bringing his kiss in even deeper. It was that divine.

She supposed Mr. Forde had been listening for the noise, because he finally released her lips, even if he did not withdraw his arms from around her.

"She is gone now," he whispered.

"Who is?" She was still in a daze.

He chuckled, a smug, masculine sound that was also a warm rumble beneath her hands.

"Miss Eaton. She did not think to check the draperies. You chose a good place, behind the statue."

He stepped back and held the curtain open for her.

"Thank you." She emerged from behind her velvet cave and blinked, even though the skies had grown darker outside. "I will go back to the library now and try not to become tagged." Especially since she felt as if she had already been tapped.

"Perhaps that is for the best," he solemnly agreed. "Try not to get caught."

She nodded and retraced the way she had entered the gallery. There was no one to be seen on her way to the library, but that room was not empty. She let herself in quietly, saw Fanny and David in an embrace not unlike the one she had just been in with Mr. Forde, and they were just as oblivious.

Letting herself back out, she returned to the gallery, where Mr. Forde was now perusing the Willingham portraits.

"Back so soon?"

"I thought it best not to interrupt the happy couple."

"I take it my nephew is now it?" he asked with a grin.

"Something of that nature," she cheerfully replied, wondering if she should bring up their own kiss, or not. She decided not. He decided to, however, much to her annoyance.

"About that kiss, Miss Singletary. I beg that you..."

"Forgive you for it?" she queried.

"No, I was going to say that I..."

"Make a habit of kissing spinsters?"

"No, I was trying to tell you not to expect any more from me than the kiss you have already received."

Angel did not know whether to laugh at him or be offended. She decided on the former.

"What is so amusing?" Now he was offended.

"Nothing," she said with a chuckle. "I only thought it odd that you expected me to want more."

"Do you not?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

"No, not particularly. Should I?"

"Why should you not! You are a plain spinster with no prospects and I am a handsome, wealthy man!"

"Modest, as well," she added, her eyes twinkling.

"Yes, modest ... What do you mean by that?"

"Recognize the sarcasm, do you?"

"Now, look here, Miss Singletary! I do not believe I am boasting when I say I have good looks. Not to mention a potload of money."

"Your point is..."

"My point is that you have nothing. I would be a good catch by anyone's standards and I cannot believe you are not screaming down the door that I tried to molest you. It has happened before."

"Oh? Tell me! I am vastly interested in your past history with ugly spinsters!"

He frowned. "I did not call you ugly. I said you were plain. There is a world of difference between the two."

"Not from my point of view, sir."

"And the lady was not exactly ugly or a spinster," he continued as if she had not spoken. "It was your cousin, Lady Miranda."

"Fanny's stepmother," Angel could not help but add, although she regretted it instantly. She was an angel, and the moment she seemed to be settling into a mortal husk, she began exhibiting some of her old mortal traits. Cattiness had always been a weakness of hers. She closed her eyes and sent off a prayer asking for forgiveness and strength.

"Are you attending me, Miss Singletary?" Mr. Forde demanded.

She opened her eyes and gave him a dreamy smile. "I heard you, Mr. Forde. You are handsome and as rich as Golden Ball. You could have your pick of ladies, even Lady Miranda, although you must not have wanted her, else she would be here right now. I am a meek and lowly companion without prospects. I am plain, penniless and while my family might have connections, I am not connected to any of them. I suppose that about sums it all up.

"You kissed me," she added, "I kissed you back and that was the end of that. I do not think you are in any danger of losing your status as a bachelor and I am not in danger of losing my mind or my heart. If that is all, Mr. Forde, I shall retire now and repine my fate, and figure out a way not to trap you. This, despite the fact that you are doing an excellent job of setting yourself up to be caught."

She curtsied and left the room at a fast clip, not paying any attention to where she was headed. The nerve of that man to think she was going to trap him into a situation!

Angel cut across the great hall, ignoring the unusual activity around her until a woman's haughty voice rang out.

"Angela Singletary! Where have you been? Attend me at once!"

Back

Back to Novel Idea