Free A Guardians Angel by Jo Ann Ferguson Page A

opening from her bedchamber. The sun was barely over the horizon, but already the voices of servants drifted about the gardens. This was her favorite part of the day, a time before the hubbub began. Mayhap that was why she never had been able to keep to Town hours during her short Season. With a smile, she leaned on the railing. Mayhap it was as simple as she feared she would miss too much if she stayed abed even a minute longer.
    Or was it that she wanted to avoid having another dream about Justin Harrington? Dash that man! He found a way into her thoughts far too often. His charming, lopsided grin that suggested he was no older than Master Thomas contrasted with the strong passions in his eyes, passions that belonged to a man. He seemed determined to do everything he could to unsettle her … and he was doing a fine job of it if her dream last night had been any example. She had been walking with him across the moor, looking for a rare butterfly. When, far from both his house and Oslington Court, he had drawn her into his arms, she had offered up her lips eagerly, wanting to sample his kiss.
    She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, although the sensation that raced through her was most definitely not cold. His touch had been heated and her response as fervid.
    Was she out of her mind? Her employer insisted that his wards remain far from Harrington Court. He would not be pleased to discover the direction of her dreams.
    “Don’t be silly!” she chided herself. “One cannot control one’s dreams.” That was true, but her thoughts that wandered toward Justin too often when she was awake were being rebellious.
    Angela’s eyes were caught by someone waving wildly from a window set in the uppermost floor of a tower across a narrow court. Hearing a shout, she could not understand the words, but was sure it must be Miss Esther. She wondered how the solemn duke managed with such a flamboyant child. Then she recalled how little time he spent with the children. Otherwise he would have understood how talented Master Thomas was, as Justin did.
    Egad! She had to put Justin Harrington out of her head.
    She waved back and laughed when the little girl whistled before closing the window. There was something definitely delightful about such enthusiasm. She must find a way to make Miss Sutton and her family suitable to be welcomed into the ton without curbing their wonderful spirits.
    Angela faltered in midstep. In disbelief, she realized Miss Esther’s tune was the same one Justin had whistled during their walk beyond the gate the day after her arrival at Oslington Court. Was Master Thomas the only one paying calls at Harrington Grange?
    She tried to leave that thought behind her with all other thoughts about Justin as she went down the stairs to the breakfast-parlor on the east side of Oslington Court. Its wide windows were thrown open to the morning light, which washed over the surprisingly modest oak table that could seat no more than a dozen people. The sideboard was carved with leaping stags and vines and roses. Atop it awaited a generous selection of breakfast-foods.
    An apple-cheeked woman popped into the room and smiled. “Good morning, Miss Needham,” she said with a hint of a lisp.
    “Good morning, Mrs. Seger.” The cook had been one of the first to welcome her to Oslington Court.
    Angela looked around the otherwise empty room, then back to the gray-haired woman wiping her hands on her apron. “Has Miss Sutton eaten?”
    “She is taking her breakfast with the children in the nursery today.” Mrs. Seger gestured toward the table. “Help yourself to breakfast while I bring you some coffee. Make it nice and dark, I do. His Grace likes it that way.” With a friendly wink, she pointed to a pitcher. “There is cream if you want it less strong. Help yourself to some kippers and eggs. Biscuits and jam, too. If you do not mind me saying so, you are too thin, Miss Needham. It would be good for you to eat some food