Free Angel's Devil by Suzanne Enoch

jewels to
match the faux ones I purchased for Brutus?"
    She looked over
at him. "Five pennies," she said after a moment.
    "Beg
pardon?" he queried, not expecting her to answer at all. A lady wasn't
supposed to acknowledge even the offer of a gift from a rake such as himself,
yet she'd already accepted the mastiff's collar. Perhaps she wasn't aware of
the convention.
    Angelique held
out her hand. "Five pennies, if you please."
    Grinning and
again baffled by what she might do next, James reached into his pocket and
handed her the coins.
    "Thank
you," she smiled hazel eyes twinkling, and with a flick of her skirts took
Helen's hand to lead her sister over to a confectioner selling strawberry ices.
    James looked
after her, chuckling, until Niston stepped up and blocked his view.
"That's a fine animal," he said stiffly. "Will you keep him in
town?"
    James shook his
head. "No. I'll take him with me to Abbonley when I return."
    "So you
will be leaving London soon?"
    That was hardly
subtle, but not unexpected. Annoying the parents with his attentions to the
daughter was the plan, after all. "I should be getting back," he
agreed, then deliberately glanced over at Angelique. "But I've decided to
stay in town through the end of the Season."
    He left his
note with the auctioneer's assistant and received the tether of the hunter.
"Do you approve my purchase?" he asked Henry.
    "Oh,
yes," the boy gushed. Abruptly he sobered. "And I still have old
Ajax," he said dejectedly, and kicked at a clod ofdirt.
    James smiled,
unexpectedly remembering a stodgy old pony he'd had in his youth. "You
know, Master Henry, I may have a steed that would suit your needs in my stables
at Abbonley.”
    "You
do?" Henry whispered, brown eyes going round. James nodded. "I
believe so." He glanced again at Angel and took a breath. "And I
would be pleased to invite your family to come holiday with me after the
Season. Perhaps a belated engagement party for Lady Angelique and my
cousin?"
    "Oh, Papa,
could we? Please, could we? Oh, to ride a horse from the Marquis of Abbonley's
stables. Please?"
    Angelique was
watching him, her green parasol dragging in the dirt and her eyes sparkling in
the sunlight. "It would be my pleasure," he cajoled.
    "Please,
Papa?" both twins pleaded in unison.
    The earl
glanced for a moment at his daughter as well, then frowned. "There is
officially no engagement," he returned shortly, "so there is no need
for a party. And I have business at Niston. Thank you for your invitation, my
lord, but I must refuse."
    James inclined
his head, hiding his anger at the insult in a smile. "Of course. I
understand," he returned. When he glanced at Angel she appeared
disappointed, but then they'd just missed out on a fine opportunity to raise
Simon in her parents' eyes by showing the Devil off in his own scandalous
element at Abbonley. He was disappointed as well, but for a different set of
reasons entirely.

 
     
     
    6

     
     
    A ngelique rose late, having spent a restless night
with horses, splendidly garish dog collars, and emerald eyes haunting her
sleep. That last bit was odd, for Simon's eyes were blue.
    She and some
friends were to go picnicking at midmorning, and Tess helped her into her
peach-colored sprig muslin before she and Brutus hurried downstairs. "Good
morning, Angel," her mother smiled, motioning her to take a seat at the
breakfast table.      .
    "I
can't," she replied, kissing each of her parents on the cheek. "Simon
will be here at any moment." She dipped her forefinger into a bowl of
strawberry jam and lifted it to her lips.
    "You
certain you don't want a piece of toast to go with that?" her father
asked, pausing with his teacup halfway to his mouth.
    She licked the
sweet, sticky jam off her finger, then accepted the napkin he held out.
"If I can't have bad manners here, where can I have them?"
    "Nowhere,"
her mother answered.
    "Oh, that
reminds me," Angel said, seeing a chance to aid their cause. "The
Marquis of Abbonley has