Page 61 of The Lady’s No Angel

“Besotted,” Angel repeated the word as if uncertain of its meaning. She was uncertain of its meaning.

Leo set the shovel aside, leaning it against the tangled stems of the rosebush, and reached for her. Despite having promised herself she would not be such a fool as to let him touch her again, Angel went without a murmur of protest.

His big hands spanned her waist, his gaze earnest as he stared down at her. “I’ve never had a better time in my whole life than during these past days with you. You are simply the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met. There’s no one else like you in the whole wide world, Angelica Everdene, and I’ve seen a fair bit of it, and known a lot of women.” He paused, considering this. “A lot of women.”

Angel hit him in protest. “All right, I didn’t need you to underline it.”

He grinned at her, wickedness and mirth glittering in his eyes, and there was the devil lurking there, the same reckless spirit that burned in her breast, that flowed in her black pirate’s blood.

“I don’t need you to answer me now, Angel. But I want you to think on it, to let me court you. I might have waited a bit, for I know it’s all a bit sudden, but I had the nasty suspicion you’d got some maggot in your brain about not being good enough after Mercy stuck her oar in.”

She let out a sound of frustration and tugged at his lapels. “I’m not good enough, you great twit. I never believed you were Mr Cleaver, nor understood why you lied, but I’m not a fool, Leo. I can tell you’re a gentleman, and not like my papa either. You’re highborn, and the idea that your family would welcome me is hard to swallow.”

“Welcome you?” Leo pondered her remark. “Well, my mother died many years ago, so you’ll have no trouble with her. My grandmother will adore you, however. She’s a dreadful creature who caused more scandal in her day than you could possibly imagine. My father—ah, well, my father will do his best to tie you up and smuggle you abroad. Possibly he’ll sell you as a slave to some rich pasha, so look out for sly tricks from that quarter. In fact, don’t eat anything while in his company—just in case.”

Angel gaped at him and then let out a strangled laugh. “Oh, my goodness! You’re serious.”

“I’m afraid so,” he admitted ruefully. “But we can talk about all this later. There’s plenty of time. There’re not so many hours of darkness, however. We’d best set to.”

With that, he flashed her a wicked grin and picked up his shovel.

Angel could only stare at him in stunned silence, at his powerful shoulders while he plied the shovel, lifting the heavy, wet soil with ease.

“Surely, you don’t want to cause a rift with your father, Leo?”

He let out a grunt, throwing a heavy clod of soil to the side. “Love, there’s never anything but a rift between me and the old man. I’m a disappointment to him, a fool, a joke. I really couldn’t give a tinker’s cuss what he thinks about anything, and I’m certainly not about to marry to please him.”

“Well, perhaps not, but do you really want to marry to displease him?” she asked, still unable to believe they were having this conversation. Perhaps Mercy had hit her on the head harder than she’d realised and she was actually out of her senses.

Leo threw another clump of earth and paused, leaning on his shovel to consider the question.

“Yes,” he said frankly, and carried on digging.

Catching her worried expression, he stopped again. “I’m not asking you to marry me in order to fuel some vendetta, Angel. I’m asking you for the reasons I already gave, because you’re unique and wonderful, and as far from boring as any young lady I’ve ever met. But I can’t deny that knowing it will make the old man wild gives me a good deal of satisfaction.”

Angel laughed, shaking her head. “I’m worried that you’re just… just infatuated. This has been a wonderful adventure, and I’ve loved every moment of it with you. But what happens when real life raises its head? Can you seriously see me playing hostess to all your friends and equals?”

He snorted, slanting a glance at her. “Love, have you met me? What kind of friends do you think I have? I’m not stuffy, and I can’t abide stuck up, poncy sods who look down on the rest of the world. So, I think you’ll do famously.”

A little stunned by this, Angel considered the other reason she had given Milly for why he couldn’t possibly consider her. “I shot a man, Leo, and I hit Mercy in the head with a plank of wood. Do you really think I’m the kind of woman who is suitable to raise your children?”

“Certainly,” he said without missing a beat. “I shall never fear for them when their fierce mama is near. Besides, children can wait a bit. We’ve got some travelling to do, some adventures to have before all that domesticity.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you’re just being stubborn and trying to seduce me by making it all sound so wonderful and simple,” she exclaimed, though her heart was thudding too hard, and she wondered why she was trying so hard to change his mind—but the thought of letting herself believe in his proposal, in the marvellous future he painted, and then finding out he’d made a mistake, that was too hard to bear.

He threw another massive clod of earth to the side and paused, handing her the shovel as he stripped off his coat. Exchanging coat for a shovel, he went back to work.

His tone was patient when he spoke again, but she did not miss the certainty of his words. “Angel. The man you shot was trying to kill me, and Mercy was trying to scratch out my eyes after trying to kill you with a knife. I think in the circumstances you acted appropriately. Any other woman, of the kind my father would deem a suitable bride, would have swooned or run in the other direction when Bill tried to stab me, and I’d not be standing here. You’re the one, sweetheart. You’re who I choose. There’s only one thing to discuss, and that is whether you choose me?”

Angel opened her mouth to say yes. Yes, she chose him, but before she could speak the word out loud, the sound of a pistol being cocked made them both freeze.

Angel’s heart, already excited by recent events, kicked erratically as a large shape moved in the darkness, just outside the spill of light from the lamp.

“Reckoned I’d find you ‘ere,” said a rough voice from the darkness. “They almost got me at The Bull, but I’d gone out for a piss, see, so I saw the constable and his men afore they got inside. Legged it, I did. Mercy thinks I ain’t none too clever, but I’m clever enough to know why there’s the law after me.”

Though she could hardly breathe the terror thrumming through her held her lungs in such an iron grip, Angel forced herself to think, to be calm.

“Indeed, Stan,” she said as she turned and smiled at the man. “I am most impressed. Mercy underestimated your skill and daring.”