Part 33 (2/2)

”I have been helping him at Sommerall,” Angeline said. ”There's nothing to be concerned about. It is only Colin.”

Penny halted. ”Why did you close the door?”

The question caught her unaware. ”I only meant to tell him something, and I was on the verge of leaving when you came.” It was all true, but not nearly as innocent as she'd made it sound.

”Please be careful,” Penny said.

”Yes, I do not wish to inadvertently give the wrong impression,” she said. Her stomach felt a little queasy. She'd had to tell him there were no consequences. It would have been cruel to make him wait.

”I do not want you to ever have to leave again,” Penny said.

Her sweet sister's words stung her heart. ”I didn't want to leave you, but Mama insisted I must be presented in Paris.”

”I know something bad happened,” Penny whispered. ”Papa shut himself in his study. Mama's friends no longer called. Lord Brentmoor went away.”

Chill b.u.mps erupted on Angeline's arms. Penny knew. ”It is all over.”

”You must be careful,” Penny said. ”Ladies must always guard their reputations.”

Angeline inhaled on a shaky breath. ”That is wise advice, Penny, but Colin is a friend of our family. You need not be concerned.” She had only wanted to rea.s.sure him. It never would have been necessary if she had not abandoned herself to him. Tonight, however, they would announce their engagement. It was beyond anything she had ever imagined.

Of course, she'd wanted a kiss from Colin and words of rea.s.surance. He'd been obviously relieved. She ought to be as well, but at the moment, she was tired and out of sorts.

”Penny, my head is aching. Will you please make my excuses to Mama and Margaret?”

”I hope you are not ill,” Penny said.

”No, it is only a headache. All I need is to lie down for a bit.”

She slept for two hours. When she awoke, she realized that she was fatigued from the anxiety. She'd managed to catch him alone, but Penny had come along, and Angeline realized how close Penny had come to hearing their conversation.

She'd sworn she would never regret that night with Colin, and she did not. She would never have made love to him if she did not love him dearly. They had been trapped by the violent weather at Sommerall, and she had wanted to share her body with him. She loved that he wanted to champion her, and she loved that he thought her smart. She loved his teasing, and she even loved him when he pointed out that she worried over the past and the future rather than focusing on the present. She had not even realized it until he'd told her.

But now it occurred to her that she'd done the very thing she'd been accused of doing with Brentmoor. She'd had an a.s.signation with Colin.

She told herself that it was different because she loved him, and he wanted to make their engagement official tonight. But it was eerily similar to Brentmoor, who had entreated her to agree to their engagement.

The situations were not comparable. Colin had never lied to her. He had never tried to press her into intimacies. She had given herself freely to him, and he had not betrayed her. He had never expressed tender feelings for her in so many words, but he'd showed how much he cared about her.

It was true he would gain Sommerall, probably immediately. For a moment doubts plagued her. The Faradays had made the third visit, and soon after, Colin had persuaded her to announce their engagement. There was nothing nefarious about it, but she could not quite push away her misgivings.

Once before, she had ignored the silent warnings and paid a high price for it.

”No,” she said. Colin was not a cruel, heartless man. Furthermore, he wasn't the only one who would benefit from their engagement and marriage. Once she married him, she would be respectable again, and she would be able to attend Penny's come-out in the spring. There might be a few high sticklers who cut her acquaintance, but she had weathered far worse things.

From the very beginning, she and Colin had both been honest with each other that they were seeking a marriage of convenience, one that benefitted both of them. With all of her heart, she hoped that he would fall in love with her. If that day never came, she knew it would make her sad, but she would make the best of things. She would have children, and she would not have to live in seclusion as a spinster with a companion.

It surprised her how quickly her feelings had grown for Colin, but it should not. He'd changed. She suspected that the possibility of losing Sommerall had made him realize what he stood to lose. It was not just about the property, however. It was also very much about his family. He meant to spend more time with them. Colin would embrace his family. They were as imperfect as her family, but Angeline thought that only made families more interesting. Really, wasn't love the only thing any family needed?

Doubts crept in again, but she pushed them away and did her best to focus on the present. Tonight, she would be happy. He was a good man, a changed man. They would find happiness together. It would not be the love match she'd always dreamed of, but she would find contentment in their marriage. Starting tonight, she would focus on him rather than herself. She would do everything in her power to see to his happiness and comfort.

He felt like a wretch.

Colin sat at his desk with his forehead in his hand. In so many ways, that last night had been one of the most wonderful nights of his life, but there was no denying that he'd purposely set out to bed her. She'd been a virgin for G.o.d's sake, and he of all people knew how vulnerable she was because of what had happened to her. But he had not known what else to do. So he'd pressed her into agreeing to announce the engagement tonight, because he feared that if he waited, she might change her mind. The sooner they were engaged, the better. This was pure h.e.l.l, knowing that he'd betrayed her trust. While she would never know, he swore he would spend the rest of his days making it up to her. She deserved a better man, but he'd made her his that last night, and now he must take responsibility.

They were more than suited to each other in bed, but marriage was forever. It could not be undone. He knew too many men who abandoned their wives for their clubs and mistresses. That would make Angeline miserable, and what would be the point of marrying if he only returned to his bachelor life.

The devil. Soon he would be married. He could hardly countenance it.

Not long ago, he'd awakened with his boots on to find three bottles, two gla.s.ses, and an actress in his rooms at the Albany. His freewheeling bachelor days were numbered in hours now.

He hoped he could make her happy. She deserved it. Lord, they would likely have a brat by this time next year if not sooner. The realization shook him. He questioned whether he could be a good husband and father to the children that would inevitably come along.

He did something he couldn't remember doing in a very long time. He bowed his head and asked for forgiveness. He'd been selfish most of his life, but he remembered what his father had said. When a man has a wife and children, he leaves behind his selfishness because his family means more to him than dissipation.

He knew it to be true. She would soon be his wife and his responsibility. He rose and felt like a different man already. G.o.d willing they would find happiness together. He would do his best to think of her needs first and keep her safe. Tonight, he would take that first step.

That afternoon, he was attempting to compose a few lines for his proposal to Angeline. Unfortunately, he was having trouble concentrating. d.a.m.nation. She would expect something romantic, but his stomach was performing somersaults. This was beyond ridiculous. He probably would have to settle for the age-old ”make me the happiest man.” He sighed and set his pen aside. Lord only knew how her father would respond when he approached Wycoff. If the man asked if he'd touched his daughter, Colin would admit to kissing her. Anything else was none of Wycoff's business.

Someone tapped on the door. ”Come in,” Colin said.

A footman entered. ”My lord, you have a caller.” He handed over the silver dish with the card. At first, he frowned at the card. Harry Norcliffe, Duke of Granfield.

Colin's skin p.r.i.c.kled. Good G.o.d, Harry's uncle must have died. ”Where is he?”

”The main drawing room, my lord.”

Colin shrugged into his coat and ran down the stairs. Margaret sat next to Harry. The d.u.c.h.ess and Angeline were there as well. ”Harry, old boy.” He clapped his friend's shoulder.

Harry looked as if he'd not slept in a week. ”I decided to make a brief call on my way back to London. My uncle pa.s.sed quietly and unexpectedly.”

”I am sorry.”

”Would you like another cup of tea?” Margaret asked.

”I'll get you a brandy,” Colin said.

”Perhaps we should give you both some privacy,” Angeline said. ”I am sorry for your loss.”

Colin looked at her gratefully.

”If you need anything, please ring the bell,” Margaret said.

After the ladies left, Colin poured a brandy for Harry and himself. ”What can I do?”

”Nothing, really. I've got meetings with solicitors, bankers, and estate managers in London. I just wanted to see a familiar face.”

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