The Solemn Bell(52)

“How exactly did you two meet?” Mr. Lawton asked between bites of sandwich.

“Remember when I crashed my car?” Captain Neill replied. “Angelica gave me shelter until I could go for help.”

“You must be very brave, Miss Grey. Do you often take in strangers from the rain?”

Angelica didn’t care for his tone, or what he insinuated. “Never.”

“Well, fortunately for you, it was Brody. I shudder to think what could befall such a helpless young beauty if the stranger in question was not a gentleman…”

Clearly, he was remembering how easily he’d taken advantage of her during luncheon. Angelica shuddered. Instinctively, she leaned against Captain Neill’s shoulder, searching for his strength in the darkness. She wasn’t looking for protection, but for support. Knowing he was there gave her the courage to face Peter Lawton.

“I am not helpless.”

This time, the man laughed. “I hope not. I admire girls with a bit of…fight…in them.”

After that, he turned his focus back to Cynthia and Mary Rose. Peter Lawton knew he could have either of those girls—or both, if he wanted—but Angelica was something more sporting. Men like him wanted to chase, to capture. To possess. As long as women ran from him, he would pursue. He would never be a faithful husband, and would likely squander his wife’s precious dowry on whores and drink.

Would Captain Neill have been faithful? Angelica liked to think so. Despite his love for her, as his mistress, she held no claim to him. A man could have a dozen lovers spread all over Britain. Yet, if he had married her, she felt certain he would be a tender, faithful, devoted husband. She would have been a tender, faithful, devoted wife. Now that marriage was out of the question—he’d said so many times—Angelica could only hope that his love for her would keep him steadfast and true.

As if he could sense her thoughts, Captain Neill softly touched her arm. “Another sandwich, Angelica?”

“No, thank you. Between two salmons and a Victoria sponge, I’ve had plenty.”

He leaned in close, his voice tickling her ear. “I like to watch you eat.”

“Why?” She laughed.

“I don’t know. You were thin and starved when I first met you. Perhaps I like the idea of fattening you up.”

“Am I…fattening up?” Truthfully, Angelica wasn’t sure she could fit in her old, threadbare frocks, even if she wanted to. Too many more cakes, puddings, or trifles, and she might not be able to fit in her new frocks either. But, she was eating better than she had since before the war. She was having meats and sugar with every meal. Her stomach hardly ever grumbled now.

“To me, you’ve never been more beautiful.” Captain Neill laughed. “And, if we’re both honest, I’ve put on a bit of girth myself—eating, sleeping, and being happy can do that to a chap.”

“We are both happy, aren’t we?”

He ran his thumb down the length of her forearm, murmuring more to himself than to her, “For the very first time.”

“I thought you looked fat, Brody!” Mr. Lawton must have been eavesdropping. He wanted them to know it. “Come up to the room later. I have something that can help.”

Captain Neill squeezed her hand as he said, “You know I don’t go in for that sort of thing.”

Undeterred, Mr. Lawton only laughed. “Ah, right. Well, forgive me, old bean, if I prefer something that will keep me jazzing all night, not nodding off with my trousers open.”

Angelica was beginning to hate that laugh. She wondered what Cynthia, Mary Rose, or even Mrs. Neill thought of Mr. Lawton’s rude behavior. But, it seemed everyone was off in their own conversations. Marcus and his father discussed some business matter, while Mary Rose told Cynthia about her party plans for the hundredth time. Truly, was that all those girls thought of—parties, frocks, and men? Even Mrs. Neill seemed to delight in the girlish gossip when she could get a word in.

Suddenly, Captain Neill stood up. “I think I’ll show Angelica the gardens. According to you, Peter, I had better start walking off some of this bulk.”

“What’s the point of showing the girl the gardens?” Mr. Lawton asked, cruelly. “She cannot see them.”

“No, but I can smell, and touch, and listen. There is more to the world than what one can see.”

Captain Neill helped her to her feet. “Well said, Angelica.” To the others, he added, “Don’t wait for us. I think we’ll do the full circuit. I cannot remember the last time I walked it.”

With that, they set off into the gardens. They walked for a long time, talking quietly about nothing in particular. They were in some sort of ornamental orchard. The fragrant trees had been planted in neat rows, and Angelica felt certain they looked breathtaking in bloom. Many of them she knew from home—plum, apple, cherry, and pear. Others, Captain Neill identified for her. Some of the trees had even been imported from faraway lands, and planted a hundred years ago.

“I am sorry about Peter,” he finally said. “He’s an absolute ass.”

Though she agreed, Angelica shrugged it off. “But he’s your friend…”

“He was my friend, but, today, I think I outgrew him. I cannot tolerate someone who treats you unkindly. And, honestly, it’s for the best that I stay away from people who still live like I used to.”