He reached out and let his fingers lightly brush her cheek, then he turned. Her eyes followed him out of the room. Not until then did her mind come together from the far reaches of her senses where it had fled the instant Alex had taken her in his arms, and realise the full impact of what she had done. She, Angelina Hamilton, the woman who had been so sure in what she wanted, who had vowed never to yield to a man’s embrace, had almost brazenly given herself to the one man she had every reason to despise.
As Pauline was about to pull back the curtains Angelina grimaced, in no condition to endure the brightness of daylight, feeling as tired and ill as she did.
‘Please don’t pull the curtains back, Pauline. My head aches so.’
Pauline stopped when she observed her mistress’s pale face in the dim light. Her wan face and puffy eyes surrounded by mauve shadows bore mute evidence of her sleepless night.
‘Oh, Miss Angelina, you do look poorly. You stay right where you are. I’ll go down to the kitchen and have Mrs Hall make you up a breakfast tray.’
Angelina’s eyelids, feeling like lead weights, closed, and when she opened them again it was to find Verity beside the bed. Trying to clear the fog from her mind, she struggled to sit up, but Verity put out a hand and pressed her back into the pillows.
‘Don’t get up,’ she said softly. ‘You’re not well.’
Angelina sighed, unresisting, amazed at how weak she felt. ‘It’s nothing, Verity. Truly. I’m just tired, that’s all.’
‘Does your head still ache?’
‘No—at least not like it did earlier. I’ll get up shortly. Alex’s guests are arriving today.’
‘You’re not to think about getting up. With rest you’ll be as right as rain in no time.’
Alex’s head snapped up and alarm brought him to his feet when Verity told him that Angelina was indisposed. His face taut, his eyes narrowed, he sharply demanded to know what was wrong with her, his reaction causing everyone round the table to look at him in amazement.
Ever since he had left Angelina’s room in the early hours, Alex had tried not to think of her and to concentrate on the arrival of his guests, but now he became consumed with anxiety and unable to think of anything other than Angelina.
After a full night’s sleep Angelina awakened, feeling much better. Wrapping herself in a warm cloak, she ventured outside to walk in the deserted gardens. Reluctant to bump into any of Alex’s guests, she left the house by one of the many passageways.
The air was cold, the heavy clouds loitering overhead heralding more rain. From the terrace she was about to descend a flight of steps when quite unexpectedly she came face to face with Alex. She was aware of the elegant presence of the woman by his side, but in that moment of meeting there was no room in her vision, her heart or her mind for anyone else but Alex.
As surprised by her appearance as Angelina was by his, a world of feelings flashed for an instant across Alex’s set features when their eyes locked, but it was the expression of immense concern she saw that touched Angelina the most, replaced at once by one of polite inquiry.
Tenderness welled in her heart as she remembered how he had comforted her in her moment of need, and she remembered how desolate she had felt when he’d left her.
‘Angelina,’ he said with polite formality, giving no indication how her pale features and the mauve shadows beneath her eyes wrenched his heart. He stood beside Lavinia Howard with all the tenderness of a lover, but his eyes never once left Angelina’s. ‘You are recovered, I hope?’
‘Thank you, yes. I am much better. Feeling the need for some fresh air, I thought I’d take a turn around the garden before it comes on to rain.’
Alex turned to the haughty woman by his side. ‘Lavinia, allow me to introduce Angelina Hamilton—my uncle…the Duke of Mowbray’s ward. She is staying at Arlington until he returns from Cornwall, where he’s visiting a friend.’
Lavinia’s austere gaze settled on Angelina in a cool and exacting way. Impersonally her eyes raked her from head to foot in a single withering glance. She had heard all about the Duke of Mowbray’s ward—gossip travelled like a forest fire among the ton—and it was rumoured that this untutored American girl was nothing but a poor relation and had no social credentials to recommend her. Nevertheless, having sensed that she might have a rival for Alex, she resented the American girl’s presence here at Arlington. With a practised smile she looked at Angelina.
‘Why, Miss Hamilton, how delighted I am that you are able to join us at last. How do you like Arlington?’
Protected from the cold by an immaculately cut, full-length dark green coat with a black fur trim, Miss Howard was a striking looking woman, secure in her own strength and sure of her own incomparable worth. Sadly, Lavinia Howard’s appearance at Arlington on Alex’s arm had stepped in to shatter Angelina’s newfound happiness. Angelina smiled, seemingly oblivious to Lavinia’s animosity, and because it was so elegantly done, and because Alex was looking at Angelina, he appeared not to notice.
‘I like it very well,’ Angelina said in reply to Lavinia’s question. ‘It is so very different from my own home.’
‘You are American, I believe,’ Lavinia said, her tone lightly contemptuous. She touched a perfumed handkerchief to her nostrils and sniffed delicately, as if Angelina carried a bad smell. Angelina felt her hackles rise and a faint surge of anger momentarily diverted her thoughts from her own disappointment at seeing her with Alex, her kid-gloved hand placed in a possessive manner on his arm.
‘Yes—although my parents were from England,’ Angelina informed her, in full possession of herself, the hard light of battle gleaming in her eyes. She had taken an instant dislike to Lavinia Howard and had no intention of letting the woman bait her. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head to protect her from the cold, the fur trim brushing her cheeks and framing her exquisite face in the most charming manner. ‘If you will excuse me, I will continue on my walk. It is far too cold to be standing about.’
Smiling frostily, Lavinia stepped aside to let her pass. ‘Shall we have the pleasure of your company at dinner this evening, Miss Hamilton?’
‘Yes, you will,’ Angelina answered, having no intention of hiding herself away in her room any longer. She had decided that she would show all the Lavinia Howards of fashionable London society what being an American girl was all about.
‘Verity, I have decided not to hide myself away any longer,’ Angelina announced when Verity came to her room later. ‘I shall have some fun for a change.’
Verity was pleasantly astounded, though cautious, as she asked, ‘And a Season?’
‘That too.’
‘Oh, Angelina, I am absolutely delighted—and I know Mama will be over the moon. As for Uncle Henry—well—it is what he wants, for you to become a proper lady and take your place in society, which was what your mother wanted too.’
‘I know, although I am certain I shall encounter many difficulties.’
‘You are bound to—and you cannot be blamed if you get it wrong occasionally, for you cannot assume a way of life utterly foreign to you overnight. But you are clever and will learn quickly. I have not known you very long, but I do know you have the strength of character that will survive in any kind of society.
‘And now,’ she said, holding Angelina at arm’s length, ‘we have the important task of making sure you look your best for dinner this evening. I swear you will not recognise yourself by the time I have finished.’