The Solemn Bell(40)

“Yes, thank you.”

“To your right,” he said, placing the steaming cup at her elbow. Then, he settled into the seat beside her. “It’s usually just us chaps at breakfast. To be honest, I wasn’t sure you were coming down.”

“A pleasant surprise, I hope…”

He laughed with his mouth full. “Absolutely. But, if you’d rather have tea and toast in your room—”

“No, I’d rather be down here,” she said, stirring milk into her coffee. She had to be careful, because his flirting was a distraction, and she’d hate to spill a drop. “You two can keep me entertained.”

Captain Neill pretended to pout. “The lady laughs at us, Markie.”

“Don’t they always?” his brother said, good-naturedly.

“Ha! At you maybe. Not at me.”

She smiled at her plate. “You’re chipper this morning, Brody.”

“I’m not usually up this early…”

Marcus explained, “He doesn’t have to earn his living like the rest of us.”

“No? For some reason, I thought you were all gentlemen of leisure.”

“Only me,” Captain Neill replied, turning to Angelica, “I’m the family ne’er-do-well.”

“While I hang about the office,” Marcus said, “making myself look good in front of Father. Speaking of…I’m running late. I trust the two of you can amuse yourselves until dinner?”

Captain Neill took a long sip of his coffee. “Oh, yes. Good morning, Markie.”

Marcus stood, turning to address his brother, “You know, Brody, for the first time in my life, I’m jealous of you.” At that, he was gone.

They were alone now—or, at least, devoid of anyone except servants. Angelica could hear one or two bodies tinkering around the room.

Captain Neill leaned over and kissed her temple. “He knows about us. Well, he knew about us before. I haven’t quite brought him up to speed.”

So Marcus believed they were in love, and possibly even getting engaged. That explained why he’d been so kind and welcoming from the very start. He thought he knew something that the other Neills didn’t.

“You and your brother are close. Do you tell him everything?”

He must have nodded. “He’s the only one who understands me.”

“Bessie, the maid, knows about us, too.” Angelica whispered, careful of the ears who might be listening.

“Servants don’t count.”

“Won’t they gossip?” she asked. “Or run tell your mother?”

He didn’t seem very concerned. Wasn’t he worried that his mother would discover they were lovers? Mrs. Neill would object to having her in the house if word got out. Likely, she and Captain Neill would be tossed out on their ears.

“You drink your coffee and let me worry about Mother,” he said. “I thought we could go for a drive this morning. Would that please you?”

Every time she climbed into the passenger seat, she feared for her life. But he did love that motorcar of his, and had been so cheerful all morning, when she was sure he’d rather be in bed.

Angelica smiled over at him, hoping she at least sounded sincere. “I think a drive sounds lovely.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE





Without morphine to sedate him, Brody was full of energy. He suddenly wanted to go, and do anything. Everything. He was restless and bored, and needed to let off some steam. Since he couldn’t take Angelica upstairs and make love until neither of them could walk, he did the next best thing.

He took her driving.

Brody enjoyed the open countryside, the fresh air, and a morning spent with the girl he loved. If they had stayed home, they would have had little privacy. Here, he could touch her when he wanted, and kiss her when she let him.

They sped through half of Shropshire with her tucked by his side—or, rather, with her face buried in his shoulder. Angelica didn’t like when they went too fast. Sometimes, he’d pull over at the crest of a hill, and shut off the engine just so she could catch her breath. He didn’t mind stopping to admire a pretty view of rolling hills and castle follies, and she’d lay in his lap, feeling the sun on her face. They’d talk if they felt like it, or sit in companionable silence if they didn’t.

For the day, at least, he couldn’t imagine anywhere he’d rather be.

“Where are we going after this?” she asked him, her cheek resting on his thigh.

Brody feared he might burst through his tweeds. “Home. It’s nearly time for luncheon.”

“No. I mean, after your sister’s party. You say we only need to make it through the week, but then what?”

“Honestly, I haven’t put that much thought into my plan. I’m more of a day-by-day type of chap, you see.” He laughed. “All my life, it’s been ‘get through this lesson’, or ‘just survive this last push’. Before you, I never thought beyond my next injection—that’s the problem with being an addict. We live for the moment, and to hell with the consequences.”

She sat up, frowning. “So we are, essentially, living by our wits?”

What a sight she was when she was cross! Watching her blue eyes flash was almost—almost—better than seeing her face in his lap. Strangely, both scenarios had the same effect on his pulse.