The Solemn Bell(45)

That was true enough. Angelica had let herself imagine Captain Neill’s behavior was genuine, but it was all part of the act. If he was going to pass her off as anything more than his mistress, he must convince his family that she was a good girl, and that his intentions were honest. People who cared for one another flirted over dessert, and seized any decent excuse to hold each other close. Their dance had been for show. When he realized he’d played his part too well—that she’d forgot her true purpose—he’d stormed off in a rage.

He was going to send her packing.

After this disaster of an evening, no one would blame him.

She’d better get a head start. “Can you ring for Bessie? I want to go to my room.”

Mary Rose laughed. “See what I mean? You can’t do anything.”

“Just ring, please.”

There was a pause. “No.”

The library door slammed shut. Mary Rose Neill had left her there to suffer. Angelica stepped in the direction of the doorway, but what was she going to do, stand in the hallway and call for help? Bleat like a lost lamb for someone to carry her upstairs?

Angelica sat on a nearby sofa. For a moment, she swore she heard rapid breathing. “…Mary Rose…”

The young woman cackled. “Tricked you! Did you really not know I was in here all along?”

She clenched her hands in her lap. It was a cruel trick, but she was not going to give that girl the satisfaction of a reaction.

Mary Rose was not deterred. “I bet your brothers played so many pranks on you.”

“I only had one brother, and he was very kind,” Angelica replied. “Were your brothers awful to you?”

“Not really. They were gone mostly—to the Front. But you seemed like such an easy target, I couldn’t help myself.”

Angelica sighed. Perhaps she was an easy mark, after all. “You’ve had your fun. Now will you ring for Bessie?”

“I don’t think I will. Goodnight!”

With that, she really was gone.

The library was deathly quiet. Angelica waited an eternity for someone to find her, but no one—servant or otherwise—came. She wept quietly with her hands clamped over her mouth to muffle the sobs. How did she get herself into such a mess?

“Angelica! Angelica?”

Footsteps. A voice in the corridor. Suddenly, the library door swung open. She tried desperately to hide her tears, but it was too late. Captain Neill caught her crying, and rushed to her side.

He pulled her into his arms. “Oh, my dear girl.”

Angelica remembered Mary Rose’s warning not to let men know she cared. Thank God, Marcus had calmed his brother down, and now Captain Neill was back. If she could rein in her emotions, perhaps he would forgive her. Perhaps he would not send her away. “I’m sorry that I lost my head, and got caught up in our dance together. I won’t let it happen again.”

He sounded tense, and also confused. “What do you mean?”

“I—I took the act too far,” she explained, grasping at any excuse. “We were dancing, and I thought you wanted me to play along. I know that it wasn’t real. I wouldn’t dare have feelings for you.”

“You were just acting?”

She nodded. Anything to convince him!

He moved off the sofa. Oh God, he still didn’t believe her. He was going to storm off and leave her down here alone. Angelica couldn’t risk losing him again.

“Brody…” She reached for him through the darkness. “Without you, I’d be on the streets. Instead, you’ve brought me here, and bought me clothes, and been so very good to me. Yet I’ve been nothing but difficult. Let me show you my gratitude.”

Angelica spread her legs for him. It was the only way she knew to keep a man’s attention. He would bury himself inside her and forget why he’d been angry in the first place.

His voice caught. “Is that what you really want?”

“I want you to fuck me, Brody.”

She tugged her lacy underdrawers down over her silk stockings, while he fought with his trouser buttons. They both wore evening clothes. Things were so much simpler when she had nothing but a few serviceable pairs of drawers and a frayed woolen dress. Now, she struggled in her beaded frock, and he was restricted by his dinner jacket.

Angelica leaned back against the sofa, pulling her knees wide with her hands. He touched her—once, twice—with his fingers, testing her. Then, he crouched above her, holding onto the wooden back of the sofa with one hand, and guiding himself into her with the other.

He entered in one sharp thrust. She gasped. Captain Neill hovered over her, never touching her, yet driving into her with a deliberately pointed rhythm. She closed her eyes, and turned her head so that he wouldn’t be distracted by her cold, dead gaze.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, thrusting. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“I closed my eyes so you wouldn’t have to see me.”

Thrust. Thrust. “Why?”

“Because of my eyes…”

“Did your other lover not like them?”

She shook her head. “He couldn’t come.”

Captain Neill withdrew from her, and she whimpered. Instead of shunning her, he kissed her, fiercely. “Don’t ever close them. Do you hear me, Angelica? You’re beautiful, and perfect, and so are your eyes.”