Regency Angel

Chapter 11

The tall, imperious woman in a dark red traveling costume looked at Angel with some impatience as she stared back.

"Come along, Angela! I haven't all day to stand here and do nothing! You, lad!" she called to the butler. "See that I am given the finest room in the house."

"Miss Singletary, I..." Mr. Forde had followed her into the great hall, but the appearance of the new arrival brought him up short.

"Miranda," he said curtly. "What are you doing here?"

The willowy brunette let out a brittle laugh. "I am here for the wedding! Surely you did not think I would miss my dear stepdaughter's nuptials?"

"Yes and no. And the wedding is still two weeks away."

"But who will oversee the preparations! Fanny must have the best of everything! Darling, I decided I must have my hand in it, or it would not be fitting enough for an Eaton!"

Mr. Forde mumbled something under his breath. The lady, in the meantime, saw Angel standing there doing nothing, and gave her a narrow look.

"Angela! See to my things!" she said sharply before addressing Mr. Forde in a sugary tone Angel did not like. Linking her arm with his, Miranda insisted on being revived from her journey with some tea in the drawing room.

Mr. Forde shot Angela an apologetic glance and led Miranda away. Angel could only sigh in relief that both of them were gone before asking the butler to place the lady in the smallest guest room possible without it appearing to be an obvious insult.

"I have just made such arrangements, Miss Singletary," he assured her with a straight face. A footman appeared and asked that if Miss Singletary were not otherwise occupied, would she join Lady Willingham upstairs?

Angel readily agreed and went up to the countess' chambers, where she was greeted with a frantic smile.

"Thank you for coming so promptly! I cannot believe the audacity of that female, showing up with no warning, without Fanny's father, without her child... What sort of mother does that?"

Angel had only an impolite answer for that one, which she refrained from repeating, and immediately chastised herself for such an impure thought.

Lady Willingham had been in a taking of sorts, however, strewing clothes about the room and upsetting everything on her dressing table. Angel rang for the maid, set the countess down in a chair and calmly began to sift through that lady's gowns.

"I am certain you will want to make a good impression, my lady, but do not dress overly fancy. This is the country after all, and we want to give Lady Miranda the impression she is overdressed for the occasion."

Lady Willingham agreed. "She always makes me feel the veriest dowd, even when I know my clothes are of the first stare."

"They are, indeed," Angel soothed. The maid appeared and she requested a cup of herbal tea for her ladyship.

"And some biscuits," the countess added. "I have not eaten all day."

"We must remedy that," said Angel and the lady's maid, nodding, went away promptly to do their bidding.

Angel went back to perusing the countess' gowns, rejecting some for being too plain or old, and others for being too stylish. She finally found a pretty day dress in a celestial blue that appealed to her.

"That is one of my favorites," Lady Willingham confided.

"Then wear it. The pleasure it affords will give you confidence to face Lady Miranda." Angel had the feeling that woman would take over if allowed.

"Where is the lady now?"

"In the drawing room with Mr. Forde."

"Oh, dear. Poor Roderick."

Angel silently agreed, despite her previous words with the man.

"She always wanted him, you know," the countess continued. "She tried to trap him into marriage several times, until one scheme backfired and poor Mr. Eaton was caught instead." She laughed. "At least she was caught by someone who can afford her. But I do not need to tell you any of this. You have lived with her a long time. You know what she is like."

Angel nodded. She had a good idea now that she had finally been in that female's presence.

"I had better ring for someone to find Fanny, so Mr. Forde is not left alone with her."

"If you insist." Lady Willingham caught Angel by the hand. "I like that you have so obviously blossomed since your arrival, Miss Singletary. I do not like the idea of you retreating now that Lady Miranda has arrived. Do let me know if you are too much put upon by her and I shall do all I can to keep her from running roughshod over you."

Angel was touched by the lady's sincerity. There were so many good people in the world, if one just knew to look. She smiled and curtsied. "Thank you, Lady Willingham. I will let you know."

The two ladies went down to the drawing room together to find Lady Miranda fawning all over Mr. Forde and a sullen Fanny speaking quietly with the earl. She did not appear to be pleased by Miranda's sudden appearance. That made four of them, then, unless the earl's jovial conversation with the newcomer was false.

Knowing what she did of David's personality, Angel was certain his delight was genuine. Until Lady Miranda opened her mouth.

"You are looking well, Angela," she said smoothly to her cousin. "Less drab. Dreary little mouse," she said to Lady Willingham. "And as poor as one, too. If it were not for my mother and I, she should have no home. ‘Take her into your new household with you,' my mother urged. ‘I cannot be expected to find a husband for such a plain creature.' So I did. Was that not charitable of me? She has been so useful with dear, dear Fanny." She shot her stepdaughter a sweet smile. Fanny scowled back.

"And Fanny!" Lady Miranda continued. "I hope you have come to know her like a daughter, as I have. Although, I confess, she and I are more like sisters than you two are."

"Indeed, we are all fond of Fanny, as well as Miss Singletary." The countess had obviously taken the high road on the age issue. Angel was surprised, though, when she leaned over on the sofa and patted her hand with affection.

"Ah, then you do not mind their faults! How wonderful! It is not easy to accept a mouse and a spoiled brat."

"Oh, I say!" David began to protest.

"Miss Eaton and Miss Singletary are neither of those things," Lady Willingham stoutly insisted. "I have never refused hospitality to anyone, Lady Miranda, but if you feel more comfortable staying at our local inn, that may be arranged." The countess was calm, but there was a hint of steel in her voice.

Lady Miranda laughed. "I did not realize you were taking me seriously! Oh, really, I am comfortable where I am, although your rooms are so small! And so spare. I shall make do, though, until a larger chamber may be arranged."

Angel was puzzled. Had not Miranda been in the drawing room the entire time she had been upstairs with Lady Willingham?

"Mr. Forde was kind enough to show me to my room," Miranda purred, stroking Mr. Forde's arm. "Is he not the dearest man?"

Angel did not like her insinuations, but there was nothing she could do. She found herself wondering what had happened when he escorted Miranda to her bedchamber.

"I merely waited in the hall while Lady Miranda made herself presentable," Mr. Forde told them, evidently alarmed at what they might think of the action. "Fortunately, Miss Eaton and David were here when we returned. Saved me the trouble of finding them."

Angel hid a smile. It had saved him the trouble of interrupting them.

The tea tray arrived, followed immediately by Mr. Powers. He had the nerve, it seemed, to pretend nothing had happened the day before, forcing everyone to play along. The vicar made a beeline directly to Lady Miranda.

"We have an addition!" he exclaimed, bringing Miranda's outstretched hand to his lips. "A very beautiful addition."

Fanny pouted and Miranda beamed. Introductions were made.

"A vicar! How very droll. Is it not, Fanny? You have called their banns for the first time, I suppose?"

"Sunday last. It is a quaint tradition for those able to obtain a license, of course, but my cousin would be traditional -- and give his tenants and villagers some enjoyment out of the proceedings. Even the well-born around here abide by the custom rather than applying for a license."

"Adorable! I suggested that Fanny come here for the nuptials, despite the fact that she wished for a large wedding in Town. We had quite a time talking her into this, did we not, Angela?"

Angel had no clue, but she could guess. "Did we?" she countered.

"Do you not recall it?" If Miranda was surprised, she hid it behind a brittle laugh. Angel wondered if this was the first time the cousin had ever defied her.

"Not particularly. The reality is, Fanny is here and about to wed the earl. Does it matter whose idea it was to marry here?" Angel asked innocently.

"You did not want to be married from here?" a stricken David asked Fanny.

"Of course I did! Miranda is confused. I did not protest a small wedding in the country. I protested not being able to have a ball in my honor before we left London."

"It was a waste of my time," Miranda said, dismissing the notion. "You were already betrothed. Why go through the effort and expense of a coming-out ball?"

"Oh, you poor dear," Lady Willingham whispered to herself. "Then we must have a betrothal ball before the wedding!" she said in a louder voice.

"Is that necessary, Aunt Sarah?" the vicar wondered.

"After all, you are already planning the wedding," Miranda insisted.

"Then you shall plan the ball with me, Lady Miranda," the countess cheerfully replied. "Because now you have the time. I imagine this will be a nice sojourn from having to attend to a husband and a very young child. Is your little darling up in our nursery? I should love to meet him."

"He is not here," Lady Miranda said without regret. "I could not allow myself to be saddled with the... little angel when I did come to help with the wedding."

"Splendid!" Lady Willingham said no more on the subject as she pressed Fanny and Angel into helping her pass around tea.

After that, Angel was able to sit back and watch as the vicar struck up a conversation with Miranda, leaving Fanny to feel bereft of the attentions she had so recently received. Angel only hoped the girl would do nothing rash to regain the vicar's favor. She doubted Fanny knew who was responsible for David's activities the day before, so she would not yet be out of charity with the vicar.

Fortunately, the earl sensed Fanny's distress and for once decided to do something about it. Perhaps their time alone in the library had made him realize his future wife was going to require a lot of attention until she was used to doing for herself.

That left Angel, Mr. Forde and Lady Willingham to converse among themselves. Mr. Forde bowed out by picking up a newspaper and hiding behind it. Angel tried not to sigh as she turned to the countess.

"Shall you continue to live here after the wedding, my lady?"

Lady Willingham chuckled. "I think not. The new countess should be able to run the house the way she sees fit, although I shall not be far if she needs me. There is a dower house, you see, off to the east of the formal gardens, and it will be my new home. I had thought to go tomorrow and have a look at it. It required some paint and new flooring and I should inspect the work. Will you come with me?"

"I should like that very much," Angel replied.

Evidently Mr. Forde had been using his paper for the purpose of eavesdropping, because he set it down and smiled. "The house is ready? I should like to see it, as well."

"You may come, Roderick, but only if you promise not to complain about my choices in wall color or flooring."

"I promise."

Chapter 12

The next morning, Mr. Forde's horse and the pony cart were brought around to the front of the house, and once they were settled on seat and saddle, Lady Willingham, her brother and Angel headed off to the dower house.

A turnoff before the main road led to a short drive that ended with a brick house that was larger than a cottage, but definitely not the same size as her current home. Lady Willingham sighed.

"I shall miss the manor, but I have chosen some lovely furniture from the house for my new home. I doubt Miss Eaton will even miss it. She and David will be able to afford to redecorate."

They alighted in front of the two-storied structure and Mr. Forde secured his mount and the pony before they went inside.

"Sarah!" he exclaimed once they were in the hall. "It looks very well!"

"Do you think so?" she asked girlishly as they looked over clean walls the color of heavy cream.

"I do. It is much less ornate than the manor."

"Of course it is. I was not allowed control of any of my dowry. Else the manor would have been decorated to my tastes eons ago. Mine was supposedly a love match," the countess explained to Angel. "We did not discover until after the wedding that Willingham only loved my money."

"He spent it all and came back for more," Mr. Forde said bitterly.

"I bore it as well I could over the years," the countess continued without rancor, "but heaven only knows what I have endured."

"The meek shall inherit the earth," Angel said honestly.

"I certainly hope we inherit something! Come see the drawing room!"

Lady Willingham led them into a room down the hall. One with a sunny bank of windows that overlooked a duck pond complete with weeping willows. The walls were pale blue and a large sofa in yellow velvet, picked out discreetly with gilt, dominated the room.

"That came from the attics here," the countess said, her smile wide. "It belonged to Willingham's grandmother, but I only saw it a few times. Right after we married, the dear old lady died and my harridan of a mother-in-law moved here and it disappeared. I had thought it lost forever until I began searching the attics for suitable furnishings. Come upstairs and let me show you my other greatest find!"

On the first floor, they were shown into a bedroom with pink satin walls and the most beautiful rosewood bed Angel had ever seen. There were large posts on all four corners and a pale pink sheer fabric hung over the sides, held in place by a wooden cherub. The posts were carved with hearts and ivy, and the theme was repeated in the head and footboards.

"It is exquisite!" Angel breathed. "A bed fit for a princess!"

"It is!" Lady Willingham agreed. "According to family history, Princess Elizabeth slept in it once, at a time when she was still in favor with the crown."

"Will this be your bed?"

"Oh, no! I am a bit old for such a pretty thing. I hope one day to have a granddaughter or two to place in it."

"What lucky girls they would be!"

"Well, Roderick? What do you think?" his sister wondered.

"It is quite... pink," he said, finding his tongue.

"There is a matching chest of drawers and dressing table, but I am having them cleaned. The entire set was filthy from all that time in the attic."

"Do you have a room that might be considered more, er, masculine?" he asked.

"Of course! Come with me." They went downstairs. "There is a lovely little study here that I plan to decorate in green and dark blue. All I have in here now is a nice leather..."

The countess paused in the doorway and turned around, a frown marring her forehead.

"What is it?" Mr. Forde asked.

"Nothing, really, except..."

"Except what, Sarah?"

"I was certain the workmen have not started in this room, and yet there is a fire in the hearth."

Mr. Forde strode past her to the fireplace and squatted down in front of it. "This has not been here long. Was the work crew here yesterday?"

"Not to my knowledge. They were here three days ago, I know."

Mr. Forde looked at Angel. "The fire is not that cold. Someone has used this room since then, perhaps even last night."

"But I have the key!" the countess insisted.

"You ladies stay right here. I need to look around..."

Mr. Forde left the room and Lady Willingham sat on the sofa, perplexed as to why someone would wish to break in. Angel wandered about the room as her hostess fretted. As she reached the hearth for the second time, she bent down to retrieve a piece of woolen yard, the sort that might come from a shawl. Not certain what its significance might be, she put the fiber in her pocket.

When Mr. Forde returned, it was to report that a window was unlatched, but he had shut and locked it, and the house was now secure. He suggested they return home.

"But who would want to break into this place?" the countess asked once more.

"I have no notion," her brother said quietly.

When they reached the manor, Lady Willingham was helped down from the cart, but when Angel attempted to alight as well, the countess stayed her with a hand.

"Would you be so kind as to visit Nanny for me today? With a new guest and a ball to plan, I know I shall not have time to do so in the near future. And it will keep you out of the way of that certain guest," she whispered conspiratorially.

Angel flashed her a grateful smile and did not linger. Neither did Mr. Forde. He had not dismounted, but followed Angel back down the drive. She looked at him questioningly.

"I would like to visit Nanny," was all he said. They rode to her cottage in silence.

"Oh, my dears!" Nanny said by way of greeting when they arrived. "I am glad to see you both! I have just had word that Mrs. Miller had a spell today..."

"Those poor lads," Angel replied.

"Yes, the little lambs need some attention, too." She had a bag in her hand and she kept it with her as she climbed into the cart. "You will come as well, Master Roderick?"

"Yes, Nanny."

"The eldest lad came over and said his mama had taken a bad turn and would I come help," the older lady explained as they rode. "I do not know if she asked for me or if the lads had the presence of mind to come get me, but I doubt that maid of theirs thought of it at all."

"Will it be best, perhaps, if I take the young gentlemen into the village for a diversion whilst you attend to their mother?" Angel asked.

"A very good plan, Miss Singletary. I shall have Master Roderick escort you. There is a bakery in the village with excellent buns. No doubt the lads will enjoy that."

Angel was glad of the plan when they arrived at Stone Cottage. The boys looked so sad and helpless, although they perked up well enough when Mr. Forde -- bless him -- thought they might like to come outside and see his horse. Angel watched them from the parlor window as Nanny and the maid made a pallid Mrs. Miller more comfortable.

"I am going to give you some of my home-brewed restorative, ma'am," she heard Nanny say. "And then the lads may come in to see you for a moment. After that, Master Roderick and Miss Singletary will take them into the village for a couple of hours. You need your rest and as darling as the boys are, the quiet must be welcome."

Mrs. Miller smiled weakly at the authoritative nurse. "You are a treasure, Nanny Baker. As are you, Miss Singletary."

"Yes, indeed," Nanny agreed. "She is a true angel."

After the boys were cleaned up and had kissed their mother goodbye, Crispin was allowed to ride with Mr. Forde while the two young lads piled into the cart with Angel. It was only as short ride to the village of Whitby, but the young men were excited, as they were not allowed to go there by themselves. Fortunately, they were well behaved, and it was a pleasure to take them about. Angel had yet to investigate the village, so it fell to Mr. Forde to play guide, which he did with ease.

After leaving their transportation at the inn, they went to the bakery for fresh sweet buns, which were gobbled in a hurry by even Angel and Mr. Forde. After washing up in a nearby trough, with Angel providing a handkerchief for drying hands, they wandered about, climbed trees on the edge of the village green and repaired to the inn for luncheon in a private parlor.

The room fronted the inn and the boys enjoyed watching others go about their business. It became a game to see how many people they knew by name, with Jonathan knowing a surprising great many.

"Mama says his memory for names is excellent," Crispin said proudly. But when the boys all spied the vicar, they became unusually reticent and refused to acknowledge him, even to their escorts.

"What is the matter?" Angel asked. Not only were the lads silent, but they had stopped eating. She knew from experience that was not a good sign.

"Is it the vicar?" Mr. Forde asked, having caught sight of the man, who was skulking about. Another bad sign. Crispin nodded.

"He is a bad man," Cortland whispered.

"Why?" Angel wondered. The little one had turned white as a sheet and she pulled him onto her lap and wrapped her arms tightly about him. He relaxed into her slightly, but was still fearful around the eyes.

"He said mean things to Mama," Jonathan supplied, but only after moving in closer to Mr. Forde.

"He said she was going to Hell when she died, unless she sent me back to my uncle," Crispin whispered.

Angel exchanged alarmed looks with Mr. Forde.

"Why should it even concern him?" Angel had to ask. As far as she knew, the baron and his family were not even in Powers' parish. "Perhaps he likes to intimidate his own parishioners?"

"Possibly. It bears looking into," Mr. Forde replied.

Angel nodded. They could discuss it later, without little ears around. Apparently, though, the little ears had already heard plenty.

"Ivy told Lettie that the vicar was forcing himself on her," Crispin said. "What does that mean?" Three pairs of blue eyes turned expectantly toward Mr. Forde.

Angel was too angry to laugh at the gentleman's discomfort as he fobbed them off with a -- in her estimation -- weak explanation. How dare Mr. Powers abuse a position of influence such as his? Still, all would be dealt with in good time. Still, Ivy must be gotten out of that house before something happened. Such as Ivy being with child and the vicar turning her out without admitting his own actions.

"What else have you heard, lads?" Mr. Forde prompted, his cheeks pink.

Out of the mouth of babes, Angel thought fondly as the boys filled them in on village gossip.

"Mr. Breen has a new cow."

"There are ducklings in the mill pond!"

"We saw a ghost at the dower house last night!"

More glances were exchanged between the adults.

"Oh?" Mr. Forde adopted a nonchalant attitude. "And what were you doing near the dower house well past your bedtime?"

Crispin spoke up somewhat defensively. "Mama had a spell and we could not sleep. We went to the orchard while she thought we were in bed because we did not like to hear her being ill."

Angel hugged Cortland tighter until he squeaked in protest. The poor children!

"You can see the dower house from the orchard," Jon said. "The ghost was walking in there with a candle."

"I told you, Jon -- ghosts don't need candles!" Crispin said with all the authority of an elder brother. "It must have been the caretaker."

"I still say it was a ghost," his brother mulishly replied.

"Look!" Cortland cried from Angel's lap. "The bad man is getting in the pretty lady's carriage!"

To Angel's surprise, the vicar was indeed climbing into an open carriage. One that contained Lady Miranda!

Chapter 13

Not even having undressed after dinner, Angel worried about the mystery of the dower house and was restless. She paced her room until she was concerned for the carpet, and finally picked up a book and settled down in the window seat. She never even opened the book. Instead, she found herself gazing out over the side lawn, which was bathed in moonlight.

There was movement below, and on closer inspection, Angel saw someone slip in and out of shadows before disappearing down a path. She wondered where it led. Hastily grabbing a cloak, she left her room to find out.

Wasting some moments dodging servants, she finally made it outside, following the same path as the other person. A person she was fairly certain she knew.

Her suspicion as to that person's destination was confirmed when she saw a few candles in a window of the dower house. She did not dare go inside, for fear of discovery without escape, but one of the casement windows was half open and the two people meeting inside were standing near it. Their voices were raised in anger.

"You are a blundering fool!" Miranda was saying. "Fanny should have been ruined by now, David either disgusted or dead, and your task complete. Instead, I have been forced to leave my comfortable circumstances and come here to help you out of this mess. If you had followed orders, I should never have had to be here at all -- because there would be no wedding!"

At least Angel now knew the identity of the two dark agents, even though she had suspicions all along.

"I keep telling you, Miranda, someone has been crossing me at every turn!"

"Who is it?" she asked sharply.

"I do not know."

"What do you mean, you do not know?" There was a sharp slapping sound. "Are you so incompetent you cannot recognize an angel in disguise? Never mind. I shall figure it out soon enough ... First, we need to discuss our next move."

"Ours?"

She ignored him. "I think Fanny and Roderick make a lovely couple, don't you?"

The vicar laughed. "You could not even get yourself in bed with Forde! What makes you think Fanny will go?"

"She will go, all right. I have my resources ... And it will revenge me nicely where Forde is concerned."

"I say we concentrate on the earl. He is a man and surely will refuse to acknowledge Fanny as his fiancée if she were unfaithful to him."

"Exactly. This is what I am talking about, you nodcock!"

"But I want revenge on David, not Forde!"

"This will exact revenge on all of them," she said, trying for a more patient tack.

"It will?"

Miranda sighed. "It leaves David humiliated that his intended was found in bed with his uncle."

"Oh. I was thinking along different lines, actually. Consider the tale of Bathsheba."

"I don't read such rubbish," Miranda scoffed.

"It pays to know how your enemy thinks, my dear ... Anyway, Bathsheba was married to Uriah the Hittite. But when King David saw her bathing on her rooftop, he sent for her. And when she became with child, it was obvious that her husband had come nowhere near her, so David could not pass the brat off as Uriah's get."

"What has this to do with us?" Miranda asked impatiently.

Under the window, Angel held her breath. She knew exactly what the vicar was proposing.

"So we put you in David's bed and allow Fanny to discover you. Then someone suggests you have been seeing each other, even in town, and that you might already be carrying his child. She will turn to me..."

"The first part of the plan has merit. But if you want the chit in your bed, all you have to do is say so."

"I want the chit in my bed."

"There," she cooed. "Was that so difficult to say? And if the plan does not work, I get to put Fanny in with Forde."

"It will work," he insisted.

"Like the hunting incident?" she sweetly asked.

"That was not my fault," he whined. "Someone is an angel! But I have it narrowed down to two people."

"Do tell!"

"Forde or Nanny Baker."

"What?" Miranda exploded with laughter. "Are you mad? Forde is too jaded to be one of theirs and Nanny is too old. I vow, you would not recognize an angel if it bit you on the arse!"

Angel had heard enough. Sneaking back slowly from the way she had come, she got halfway up the path when a dark figure loomed up in front of her. She cried out and lost her balance.

"What the devil are you doing out here, Miss Singletary?" Mr. Forde exclaimed, grabbing her by the shoulders to keep her from falling.

"I could ask the same of ... Shhhh! Someone is coming!" She slipped out from under his hands and moved sideways into the bushes, leaving him no choice but to follow.

They watched silently as Lady Miranda strode purposefully up the path back to the manor. The only sound other than her footsteps was of Mr. Forde sucking in his breath in surprise.

Once Miranda was gone, Angel sat back against a tree trunk with a sigh.

"Lady Miranda is our dower house inhabitant?" Mr. Forde asked. "She only just arrived!"

"She went to the dower house, yes," Angel agreed. "To meet Mr. Powers."

"Damn!" he exclaimed. "I beg your pardon, Miss Singletary."

"You are forgiven."

"I wonder what their liaison means?"

"Perhaps they are like you and do not wish Fanny and David to marry."

"I shudder to think I might be in league with those two, however inadvertently. I never said I did not want David to marry Fanny, only that I think he can do better."

Angel could not argue with him, but she was aware that divine destiny was never wrong. Once they were pointed in the right direction, the young people were going to be very happy.

"What is their next move?"

"He wants to humiliate David by placing Miranda into his bed. She wants to humiliate everyone by putting Fanny in yours. I cannot help but feel she would be much happier if she could take Fanny's place. In fact, she seems terribly willing to share whatever bed is available."

He groaned. "We cannot let that happen."

"We?"

"Why not? You seem to take your task of getting these two together quite seriously. Why is that?"

Angel wondered if he could handle the truth. "Perhaps I would like to see someone out from underneath Miranda's influence. Or it could be I am an angel, sent from heaven to provide guidance. Or maybe I am just a nosy, plain old spinster with nothing better to do. You decide."

"You are not old! As for being an angel..."

"You find that difficult to believe?"

"No," he softly replied. "I do not find that thought absurd at all."

She was struck suddenly by the fact that they were alone, in the dark, in the woods. "I think we had better return to the house." It was not that she feared being kissed again by Mr. Forde. In fact, despite his protestations the day before, she thought she might like it quite well. Too much so. And that would never do. What if he should come to care for her and she left him? She could not countenance such a thing.

"Yes, I agree."

Relief flooded her face and he peered at her intently in the moonlight.

"You do not have to appear so happy about it, Miss Singletary." He sounded affronted.

"I thought we already established that I have no designs on you, sir," she said untruthfully. "You seem to have a problem with that still."

"I have difficulty believing you would rather run inside and not stay here with me."

Angel laughed and patted his cheek. He was so endearing and there was a part of Miss Singletary that wished she could linger.

"Thank you, but no. What if Lady Miranda should seek me out? I doubt she has already gone to bed."

He nodded. "Which reminds me. We have yet to come up with a plan to keep people out of each others' beds."

"I could always develop a sudden tendency to walk in my sleep."

"That should work for Fanny," he agreed. "I will put David on the alert. You will let me know if there is an incident of some sort?"

Angel chuckled. "I have a feeling you will know if anything happens. Fanny is liable to scream the house down. For some reason," she teased, "she is not as enamored of the vicar as she once was."

"All to the good. Between us, we shall see these two to the altar yet."

"Different reasons, same end result," she said happily.

"Exactly."

She shook his hand to seal their pact, gave him a little wave and disappeared down the path toward the manor.

Miranda was waiting for Angel when she returned to her room.

"Out for a late-night stroll?" she purred.

"I must have gone to bed without changing, and I must have been walking in my sleep, because the next thing I knew, I was out in the garden..." If she was going to tell untruths, at least it was to someone who deserved to be lied to.

"You have never done that before!" Miranda snapped.

"It must be the change in my surroundings. I have not been away from home for so long."

"There was no need, naturally. And now you cannot even do this correctly."

"I thought my mission was to ensure Fanny gets married." At least that was not a lie.

"That is still your task!" Miranda insisted.

Angel turned an innocent face toward the demoness in her room. "It has not changed?"

"Of course not! Why should it?"

Angel shrugged. Perhaps Miranda was setting her up as a scapegoat. "I do not think the wedding could be called off at this point, at any rate. Fanny seems enamored of her groom.

"Oh?" Miranda took a seat.

"There were a terrible couple of incidents this week that made Fanny think she would be bereft if his lordship shuffled off this mortal coil."

"These incidents ... Tell me about them!" Miranda ordered.

Angel adopted her best ‘idiotic companion' pose. "I understand the earl was challenged to a duel right in the middle of a hunt!"

"Amateur," Miranda said under her breath.

Angel heard and silently agreed. The fact that she had been able to disarm a would-be assassin so readily made her wonder at Mr. Powers' intelligence.

"What else. You said incidents."

"His lordship was attacked by brigands as he was on his way home with the marriage settlements."

"Oh, dear! How terrible!"

Angel repressed a snort at the woman's inability to sound sincere.

"I hope the earl was unharmed."

"As you could see today, he is in fine shape."

"Oh, yes," Miranda purred. "Very fine."

Angel did not like the predatory gleam in her eye. However, there was no way she could protect David, or Mr. Forde, without compromising herself.

She could set up an alarm of some sort, one only she would know about, but she dared not waste the two remaining boosts of power, as she liked to think of them. What if she needed them for something more important? No, she would use her ingenuity to warn the earl and keep an eye on Fanny.

"Remember your wedding vows," she counseled Miranda, for all the good it would do.

"I do not need some namby-pamby poor relation telling me what to do! I am going to bed now..." she taunted. "And tonight, it might even be my own."

Angel made certain the lady went to her own room, changed into a nightdress and then pretended, with blanket in hand, to walk in her sleep into Fanny's, which adjoined hers. Curling up in a ball inside the door, she fell asleep, no noises waking her at any time of what remained of the night.

Chapter 14

After breakfast the next morning, the ladies congregated around the countess' writing desk to plan the betrothal ball.

Lady Miranda began by complaining. "There are a mere two weeks until the wedding, I hardly see why a ball is necessary. A dinner party, perhaps..."

Fanny pouted and Angel unobtrusively squeezed her hand.

"No, a ball, I think," Lady Willingham insisted. "After all, her own family did not give her one."

"Are you certain you can afford it?" Miranda countered, acknowledging the countess' hit.

Lady Willingham nodded. "Roderick assures me that he can stand the expense of a ball to celebrate his nephew's upcoming marriage."

While the two ladies argued the merits of floral arrangements over potted palms, Fanny leaned over toward Angel.

"Is it my imagination or were you asleep on the floor of my room this morning?"

Angel made her sigh sound as if she were embarrassed. "I fear I have been walking in my sleep," she confessed. "It must be the change in my surroundings. One morning I awoke in my window seat!"

"You poor dear!" Fanny sympathized.

"I had never done such a thing before."

"Perhaps it was because you were away from Lady Miranda," Fanny suggested, followed by a giggle. "And now that you are reunited with her, you will sleep better."

"Oh, I think I shall not be returning to my old sleeping habits anytime soon."

"What secrets do you two suddenly share?" Miranda asked coyly.

"Oh, you know," Fanny said airily. "Girl ones. Things an old married lady such as yourself could not be interested in."

"For instance..."

"For instance, which of the gentlemen I met at the hunt will I allow to dance with me at the ball," Fanny said with a simper.

"The hunt?" Miranda perked up considerably.

"The annual spring hunt," Lady Willingham said. "And I do not wish to discuss the event. It distresses me to even think about what might have happened."

"An accident?" Miranda probed.

"A duel!" the countess exclaimed.

"Good heavens!" Lady Miranda seemed to choke on the words. "Do you have an idea who started the duel?" She looked at the other ladies in turn.

Angel knew, but was not telling, and the other ladies knew there had been one, naturally, but not how it had begun.

"I was not with the hunt," Angel said.

"No, you would not be on a horse, would you," Miranda agreed and turned her attention to Lady Willingham and Fanny. "Tell me, Lady Willingham. Have either you or Fanny been seriously injured recently?"

"No, we have not," she replied with a puzzled expression. Fanny glanced at Angel and back to her stepmother with a vacant look.

"I did myself a serious injury on the journey here," Fanny mused.

Miranda sat forward, her eyes boring into the girl. "On the way here? What happened?"

"The carriage had an accident and I had to walk in the rain all the way up a long drive to get help. My bonnet was completely ruined."

"Fanny!" Miranda snapped. "I meant bodily harm, not the demise of a hat!"

"Well, it was serious," Fanny insisted and then changed the subject. "Although not as serious as David being in a duel..."

"I said I do not wish to discuss it." The countess deliberately asked Angel if she would prefer lobster patties or prawns.

"She has never eaten either." Lady Miranda dismissed her companion's opinions with a wave of her hand. "So she will be no use to you. Not unless you wish to put her to work in the kitchens. She makes an excellent scullery maid." That was followed by an evil laugh.

Lady Willingham winced at the sound of her unwelcome guest's cackle. "That was quite uncalled for, Lady Miranda, but if you wish to put your companion in my hands for a few days, I know she could be of use to me."

"Yes, yes..." Miranda waved her hand once more.

"Excellent! Miss Singletary, would you be a dear and find the gentlemen for me? I have an errand for them."

"That is the spirit," Miranda drawled. "Make her do all the fetching and carrying."

"Yes," the countess agreed. "I think the girl will be most useful."

Roderick had run David to ground in the estate office, where he was reading a ledger. But how to broach the subject of Miranda's plans?

"May I help you with something, Uncle Rod?" David asked when he stood silently in front of his desk.

"Oh, nothing in particular. I just felt a need to play least in sight while the ladies planned their ball."

"I hope Mama does not allow Lady Miranda to lead her about by the nose. I cannot like that woman."

"No?" Roderick was a bit surprised. David seemed to like and trust just about everyone. ""Nor can I, but you know why." Here was the opening he wished. "Unfortunately, marriage does not seem to have put a stop to her schemes."

"Oh?" David only appeared mildly alarmed. "She still wants to place herself in your bed?"

"Mine ... Or yours, whichever becomes more convenient."

"What?" The earl was startled enough to stand, sending papers flying.

Roderick chuckled as he moved to pick them up from the floor. "I have reason to believe Edmund is involved, as well."

"My cousin?"

Rod was getting a bit concerned by David's innocence when it came to people, despite his knowledge of the world. Had he sheltered the lad too much? No, it seemed David was not doubting his cousin's involvement. Perhaps he was merely sorting out the players.

"When did you learn this?"

"Last evening. Sarah was concerned that someone might be using the dower house for assignations, so I did a bit of sneaking about. It appears Lady Miranda and the vicar are known to each other and are plotting the demise of your engagement and subsequent marriage." No reason to drag Miss Singletary's name into this.

"I cannot say I am surprised. What exactly do they plan to do?"

"I believe the beauteous Miranda plans on climbing in bed with you and then spreading gossip, and failing that, Edmund will scale the trellis to Fanny's room, where she will surely alert the household to an unwanted visitor. After he enjoys himself, of course," he dryly added.

"If she screams first..." David mused.

"You and I both know she will not be allowed to protest until he gives her leave."

David's eyes grew wide. "You do not mean..."

"I do. I doubt he will be overly kind."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

Rod gave his nephew a grin that was positively wicked. "How would you like to change bedchambers this evening? I will move down two doors and you might try the room across the hall."

"But what about Fanny?"

"I believe we may persuade Miss Singletary to assist us discreetly in that matter. She seems to be a close-mouthed, reliable sort of female."

David, who had settled down, turned round eyes on his uncle. "Perhaps I need my hearing examined, but did you just say Miss Singletary is reliable?"

"Yes. Most level-headed lady I have ever met."

His nephew sat down and relaxed into his chair. "Well, well, how the mighty have fallen!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You are sweet on Miss Singletary!"

"I am not! I admire her immensely, naturally. Who would not?" Roderick found his face growing warm.

"Fanny ... Miranda ...the vicar..." David suggested with a laugh.

"Not a sensible person in that lot!"

"I must now beg your pardon! You are speaking of my intended!"

"As I said, not a sensible one..."

"All right, all right! I get the message! Several, in fact." He dismissed his uncle's slander of his fiancé with a wave of his hand and actually smirked.

"I am not taken with Miss Singletary!"

"Methinks he doth protest too much," his nephew murmured. "Mama is quite enamored of her, as well."

"David..."

The earl recognized the warning in his uncle's voice and backed down.

"How much do we reveal to the so-sensible Miss Singletary?"

Rod sighed with relief at the change of subject. After all, he could admire the lady without being besotted. Could he not?

"This is a young lady who has lived with Lady Miranda and Fanny a long while. I do not believe more than asking her to fake sleepwalking to keep an eye on Fanny will be necessary." That, and she already knew the rest of the story.

"Fine. Shall we send for her, then, to discuss the matter?"

"I do not wish to call attention to her in front of the ladies. I will speak to her later, after dinner."

"Alone? On the terrace, perhaps?" David teased. "And that would not call attention to her how?"

"There must be a discreet way of getting her alone..."

"Getting whom alone?" Angel asked from the doorway. "Or does this come under the category of what a lady does not need to know?"

David laughed. "Miss Singletary! We were just discussing you. Will you not come in and sit down?"

She eyed him warily, although she could not hide a small smile. "Should I wish to? After all, the two of you are sitting here and discussing the most discreet way of getting me alone with someone. I should be worried."

"But you are not," Roderick told her. "So come in and hear what we have to say now that we have you alone."

David looked at first one of them and then the other with a delighted smile. "She is quite the sparring partner, eh, Uncle Rod?"

"Quite," he replied in a dampening tone. "Remind me to take her along to Jackson's the next time we are in London. Have a seat, Miss Singletary. Some information has come to light that we wish to share with you."

Angel sat without protest.

"Without going into too many particulars in deference to your maidenly modesty, we would like you to keep an eye on Fanny at night," David said.

"Do you wish me to do something in particular?" she wondered. "I do not know how I could keep close to her that specific time of the evening unless I develop a penchant for sleepwalking."

"That is precisely it, Miss Singletary!" David said with enthusiasm, sweeping papers off his desk once more. "You are right, Uncle Rod -- she is intelligent!"

"I said sensible, David, not intelligent."

"Same thing, is it not?" his voice floated up from behind the desk.

Rod glanced at Miss Singletary, who promptly stuck her tongue out at him.

"Er, yes, I suppose so," he hastily amended. Angel gave him a sweet smile.

"There!" David deposited the papers back on his desk and Miss Singletary leaned over to quietly top them with a brass angel paperweight.

Rod thought the object appropriate -- brass angel, indeed.

"I shall be more than happy to find a place in Fanny's room each evening," she said. "But if that is all, Lady Willingham is looking for you both to carry out an errand for her."

"Probably wants me to take the wording for invitations to the stationer," David said. "I can do that. I have papers to return to my solicitor and the shop is on the way."

"I will come with you," Rod offered. He did not want David on the road alone again.

"If you insist."

"I do. I would very much like to avoid having to join the ladies."

Chapter 15

Angel could not help but smile that evening when the gentlemen professed to being exhausted from their trip to the stationer, which had been uneventful. She noticed Lady Miranda, too, admitting she was weary.

"I vow, planning what should have been a simple dinner party quite does me in!" she told the company as she left the room on the heels of the gentlemen.

Angel would have liked to follow them, but she had been assigned to Fanny and that young lady, in a fit of wakefulness, sat up chatting with Lady Willingham about what to wear to the ball.

"We must do something about Angela, as well," Fanny insisted. "I am certain she has nothing appropriate. I dare not give her one of my gowns. Miranda would know it in an instant. Do you recall what happened the last time I gave you a gown?" she asked Angel.

Angel had no clue and modestly shook her head.

"Oh, you are being a goose if you do not wish Lady Willingham to know!" Fanny exclaimed, misinterpreting the headshake. "Miranda had a fit," she told the countess. "I cannot understand why she keeps Angela virtually in rags!"

"I would give you a gown," the countess said apologetically to Angel, "but you are much taller than I."

"I thank you all the same," Angel replied. "I shall make do, as I always have."

"I would not say anything if you should happen to take a peek about the attics," Lady Willingham said with a sly wink.

"The attics!" Fanny clapped her hands. "What fun!"

"You will be the lady of the house soon enough." The countess smiled. "Who is to gainsay you if you went up there, as well?"

"Lady of the house..."

Angel would have thought Fanny the sort to gloat about such a thing, but she seemed stricken instead.

"Oh, yes," her future mother assured her. "I shall be moving to the dower house right after the wedding."

"But... But what if I need assistance? I do not know the household routines! I do not even know the servants!"

Lady Willingham chuckled. "That is all easily remedied. You could start by helping me out in the mornings, getting to know the cook and the housekeeper. That way, if you do not like them, you may have new ones and I shall take them with me to my new home."

Fanny agreed that was fair, both to her and the staff, as the mantel clock struck the hour.

"Merciful heavens! If I am to assist you on the morrow, my lady, I should go to bed now!"

"Yes, I think that is a good idea for all of us." The countess stood and the younger ladies followed suit. "I am thrilled to have you both here," she said happily, slipping her hands into their arms on either side of her as they left the drawing room. "I shall be glad to have a daughter, and I have been thinking of hiring a companion." She squeezed Angel's arm in affection.

Angel was warmed by the gesture but could find no way to protest that it was going to be impossible. Too bad she could not stay. She would enjoy living with the soon-to-be dowager and be close to the slowly-maturing Fanny.

The three retired together, only one of them with a heavy heart.

Dear Heavenly Father...

Angel paused. She knew she would pray for strength and guidance and offer up thanksgivings, but what would she report? Indeed, with an omniscient supervisor, why should she need to report at all?

And if she did, what would she say? That the couple she had been sent to protect were doing well? That she was liked and even had a job lined up? That she had recently received her first kiss?

Barely seventeen when she had drowned at sea more than a hundred years before, she had been a privileged daughter of the aristocracy. Raised in near seclusion by her father, a marquess, she had always known she was being groomed as a pawn in her parent's political maneuverings, and must be kept pure lest any waywardness bring shame upon him and whichever gentleman he was to choose as her husband.

After a certain age she had become a boarder at a French convent, and was headed home to England to be apprised of her future. She never made it. A storm capsized her ship and all hands were lost.

Angel barely even knew she was drowning before she died.

Once her spirit had gone to a better place, she had been more than willing to go to work. It helped make her see what she had lost -- and gained, for that matter. She had quickly become content with her glimpses of life before being recalled back to heaven.

However, none of these postings had included kissing. She was usually more guarded about such things, even when she was in a body plainer than Miss Singletary's.

With a sigh, Angel returned to her petition, lest Fanny remained unguarded. Besides, whoever heard of an angel falling for a mortal who no doubt had many more earthly years ahead of him?

She finished her prayers, changed clothes and slipped quietly into Fanny's dark room. This time she and her blanket camped out underneath the window, a logical entry point for Mr. Powers.

Roderick allowed his manservant to assist him in preparing for bed, but once he was ready, he gave the valet a mysterious grin.

"Armand..."

"Sir?" His man was brushing off his coat.

"Have my sister's people noticed anything strange around here at night the last couple of evenings?"

Armand paused. "There have been some rumors, sir," he finally said.

"And?"

"Surely you do not give much credence to ghost stories, sir."

"Ghosts, are they?" No, he did not believe in such things. He thought back to Miss Singletary's admission that she might be an angel. An angel, yes. A heavenly being, no. " Where have these sightings been?"

"Here and there, sir. In the corridors, across the lawns..."

"The night footmen telling tales, perhaps?"

"Or more assignations than usual, sir," the valet said dryly.

"That is what I thought," Rod agreed. "When you go downstairs tonight, will you suggest the gardens be more patrolled than usual? Say I am concerned with his lordship's safety and cite some of his near misses if necessary."

"Very good, sir."

"Tell the other servants I will keep an eye on things up here, and in the state rooms, if one of them will watch over her ladyship and Lady Miranda on the floor below. The younger ladies will be able to protect each other. I understand from my sister that their rooms adjoin."

"Miss Singletary will have everything covered there, sir."

"Sensible female," Rod agreed. His valet nodded. "Speaking of sensible... You should come in here and sleep tonight." It went without saying that the bed would be much more comfortable than Armand's, especially in a household where he accompanied a guest.

Armand's eyes lit up. "Thank you, sir! I shall! But should you wish to retire, at some point, sir..."

"Then I shall take a room across the hall." Employer and manservant exchanged smiles.

Angel was not certain what woke her later, but when she got to her feet and looked out over the garden, she saw a footman making rounds. Mr. Forde and the earl seemed to have a few areas covered.

Once the footman had passed, however, she noticed a figure skulking about. Mr. Powers? Possibly... The man was running from bush to planter to tree in an attempt to provide cover, but only succeeded in looking ridiculous. At least he did to Angel. She stayed out of view and tried not to laugh at the man's antics. She also wondered what the earl and Mr. Forde were up to.

Roderick went into the Queen's Chamber to look about. The room was called such because Queen Anne had once slept there. A rustling under the bed, which was covered in faded gold brocade, gave him some alarm, until he lifted a corner of the coverlet.

"David!" The earl grinned up at him.

"Jolly good hiding spot, isn't it?" the young man exclaimed.

"Not really. You are making too much noise."

"I shall settle down soon enough," he was assured. "Used to hide here as a boy, you see."

Rod laughed. "And you still fit?"

"I admit I am a bit larger than I was, but I can manage. I have a pillow down here and I am on the rug. I think this will keep me away from the lady for the night."

"I cannot imagine her searching this low, but she has surprised me before."

"Pertinacious, ain't she?" David asked with a laugh and rolled onto his stomach. He closed his eyes. "If you see her, give me a shout, will you? I'll migrate on down the hall."

"Yes, my lord," his uncle agreed. "It shall be as you wish."

"Go on with you, Uncle Rod."

"Sweet dreams."

Roderick and his candle went into the adjoining room and found nothing, not even tracks on the dusty floor. With a rug, he swiped the parquet clean and came back to do the same in the Queen's room, careful not to disturb his nephew. He hoped the young man didn't begin to sneeze.

The other two state rooms -- a dining area and a parlor -- were given the once-over from their doorways, but nothing seemed touched. No doubt Miranda was limiting herself to the more populated portion of the house.

Working his way back upstairs, he saw no one, not even Miranda. Choosing a room across the hall from his own, he curled on a cot in the dressing room and took a short nap. Rounds had to be made again soon.

A shaking of the trellis and its vine just below Fanny's open window alerted Angel to the imminent arrival of Mr. Powers. Who else could it be?

Determined to be ready for him, she rummaged about in the dresser for a nightcap and thanked Providence that Fanny was a heavy sleeper. She did not need to look like Fanny, just give the impression that she was Fanny. A cap was located and put on, and she lit a candle.

Waiting until Mr. Powers had almost reached the top of the window, she suddenly giggled.

"Oh, la! Someone is coming to see me!" Her voice closely imitated Fanny's girlish accent. "Oops!"

Leaning out enough so that the top of the cap showed, Angel dropped the lit candle down between Mr. Powers and the trellis, forcing him to lose his grip in order to avoid being burned. A sudden cry and a hard thud brought Angel's head all the way out to see what had happened.

Mr. Powers was lying on his back on the grass, the now-unlit candle still in hand. No damage seemed to have been made to the trellis or its vine, but just to be safe, she gave out a Fanny-like giggle and poured a pitcher of water down on everything.

"I hope nothing is on fire!" she called and shut the window.

In the room directly above Fanny's, Roderick woke when he heard a noise. The dressing room did not have a window, so he moved into the bedchamber. Opening the shutters, he looked down in time to see the vicar on his back on the ground, a candle clutched in one and someone pouring water on top. The giggle sounded like Fanny, but he doubted it was from anyone but Miss Singletary. No one else in that room would have the presence of mind to rout that conniving, would-be Lothario.

With a chuckle, he shut the window, lit a candle of his own and went off to make his rounds. But first... With a wicked grin, he went down the back stairs to the kitchens and suggested to the footman on duty that the dogs should be loosed.

Then it was time to check on David, who was sleeping peacefully under the queen's bed. No sign had been seen of Miranda, as far as he could tell, but they were not out of the woods yet.

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