The Solemn Bell(61)

“Shh,” Angelica purred. “Be still, Brody.”

Her long, dark lashes fluttered over her cheeks. She was so young and beautiful. There wasn’t a line on her face. Despite seven years of hardship, there wasn’t a grey hair on her head. Give her seven years with him, and she’d be a tired, downtrodden woman. She’d likely look twice her age then.

“Sometimes, I think you’d be better off if you had never met me.”

Her blue eyes shot open. “Why would you say that?”

“Think about it, Angelica…”

“Oh, I have! Without you, I’d still be sleeping on my kitchen floor, hiding in fear whenever someone entered my house on a whim or a dare. I’d be a lonely virgin, listening behind the walls as young people from the village made love in my childhood bed,” she explained. “Without you, Brody, I’d still be a girl trapped in a woman’s wasted body. Now, I know about love—I never thought I’d find someone who would love me.”

“Peter almost raped you. It is my fault you were assaulted.”

“No, that was my fault. I didn’t know any better. But now I do, thanks to you. The next time anyone puts their hands on me, I’ll have the strength to say no. I will know that I have the right to say no.”

He shook his head. She didn’t understand at all. “I will ruin your life, Angelica.”

“You are my life.”

Damn her. He was trying to do the right thing, and she wasn’t listening to his warning. “While we were lying here—just now—I was thinking about morphine. I was wondering how I could get it without you noticing.”

“Who put these thoughts into your head?” she asked, sitting up. The silky strap of her night dress fell from one shoulder. Her left breast threatened to spill over the slackened neckline. Her hair was wild, and her eyes glittered like ice. She was his shadow-angel again, and she was hideously beautiful.

He swallowed. “The Devil, I think.”

“If you want your morphine so badly, then go to it. No one can stop you from doing what you want to do.”

“You can…”

She twisted her lips into a frown. It was exaggerated and ugly. “No, Brody. I can’t. You must make the decision—if only for tonight. Will you have your morphine?”

“Why only tonight?” he asked.

“I can’t expect you to control the future. Tonight, you must decide. Tomorrow, your answer might be different, but I can’t punish you for that now.”

“How will you punish me?” He’d already made up his mind, yet he had to ask.

“I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll leave.”

Brody reached out to run a finger over the neckline of her nightdress. “Where will you go?”

She let him dip his fingertip beneath the fabric. “Home—I still have one, you know.”

“I know.” He rubbed his blunted nail over her hard nipple. Brody needed to know that she was strong enough, that she could hold up, even against her greatest weakness. If she caved, he could control her with sex. He could talk her into letting him have both her and his morphine.

Angelica allowed him to tug the silken fabric down over her left breast. It was high, rounded, and damned perfect. Her nipple was dark against the ghostly pale flesh that had never seen sunlight. Her skin was almost translucent—he could see every blue vein pumping blood to her heart.

He reached out to cup it in his hand, letting the pad of his thumb tease her. She moaned. She was weak. She’d give in to him. He’d learn to manipulate her to get exactly what he wanted. If he timed it just right, the morphine would dull his senses enough that he could go for hours, never finding his own release, yet bringing Angelica to hers over and over again. In time, she would learn to love the stuff, too.

“Let’s get on the floor,” he said, stroking her breast, “so the bed doesn’t creak.”

“No.”

He laughed. “What do you mean, no?”

“You haven’t given me your answer.”

Brody squeezed her nipple, gently. “I thought this was my answer.”

“You cannot substitute me for the needle.” She withdrew her breast from his grip, and pulled up the neckline of her night dress. “If you want to be better, you must do it for your own sake. You said you wouldn’t always be there to protect me from men like Peter. Well, I won’t always be here to distract you from your demons. We’re not making love tonight, no matter what your decision is.”

He lay back, smiling. He’d rejected the morphine, and she had rejected lovemaking. For the night, at least, they’d both conquered their greatest weakness. Brody was really quite proud. “Thank you, Angelica. You’ve saved my life yet again.”

“You saved your own life, but I was happy to help.” She nestled herself into his arms.

Brody stroked her hair, and kissed her. “Still no sex, though?”

Angelica laughed against his lips. “Not a chance.”





CHAPTER FORTY-THREE





Today was the day of Mary Rose’s party. Just as Angelica had settled into a new routine, suddenly, everything was turned on its head. Additional servants were hired for the occasion. Furniture was moved, and valuables put into storage for the night. Caterers came, bringing chafing dishes, champagne fountains, and crates of additional stemware. Soon, musicians would arrive, adding their practice sessions to the chaos.