Page 64 of The Lady’s No Angel

Angel made a sound of frustration. “Oh, I could hit you.”

He pouted, and she laughed.

“Oh, or kiss you,” she relented, lowering her voice so the men dozing in the cart couldn’t hear her.

He grinned and tugged her a little closer still. Angel sighed, resting her head upon his broad chest. Suddenly everything hurt. All the scrapes and bruises she had been ignoring began throbbing at once, and the chilly night air seemed to bite through her clothes, which were damp and muddy. Despite Leo’s assurances she could not help but worry about the amount of trouble they were in. She frowned in consternation as she realised they were no closer to getting her grandfather’s treasure either. In fact, every minute was taking them farther and farther away.

Feeling worn to the point of weeping, it was difficult to keep her voice steady as she whispered to Leo, “What shall we do about… about you know?”

He shrugged, and she felt the movement rather than saw it, as her eyes were growing heavy. “We’ll get it, sweetheart. Don’t you worry. You’ll have your grandfather’s inheritance, if it’s the last thing I do.”

Angel sighed, praying fervently that wouldn’t be the case, and allowed herself to give into exhaustion and fall asleep in his arms.

Chapter 17

Pirate Blood and Other Treasures

Ealdor Palace, Kent, 10th April 1816

Angel woke with a start as the cart lurched into a pothole, surprised to discover she was remarkably warm and comfortable considering her surroundings. The blankets Leo had demanded had been provided and were tucked snugly around her, and heat blazed from his body. He made a remarkably comfortable pillow, considering how hard his chest was.

A low rumble of protest sounded from him as she sat up, and he opened his eyes, peering blearily at her and smothering a yawn. He seemed remarkably sanguine about their misfortune, which was the only thing keeping her from falling into panic. She wasn’t certain of the penalty for grave robbing, but she knew it was a serious offence and the likelihood that they might be returning to Penenden Heath for entirely different reasons if things went badly had not escaped her. Yet Leo was calm and unconcerned and had told her not to worry—and she trusted him. That was all there was to it. So she would not panic. Not yet anyway. Black Jack always said it was pointless to borrow trouble, so she’d wait and see what happened next.

Sitting up, Angel looked around her. The cart seemed to have been travelling through thick woodland, but now the landscape was opening up, a misty morning sprawling before them. The damp air tumbled low over the land, swirling as the horses drew the cart through it.

Beside her, Angel felt Leo give a heavy sigh and turned towards him. His gaze was fixed to their right, and her breath caught as saw what he was looking at.

A building emerged out of the mist, appearing like some ancient monster rising from a centuries long slumber. It was vast and imposing, part medieval fortress, part Tudor grandeur, and part more modern elegance.

High crenellated walls and towers showed the remnants of its medieval origins, while expansive mullioned windows caught the early morning light. Around them as the mist thinned, Angel could make out sweeping lawns and formal gardens, and a long gravel drive.

Unsurprisingly, the cart did not take them up the grand drive. Whoever the place belonged to, she suspected they would not approve of criminals being brought to the front door.

“What is this place?” she whispered to Leo, aware of the sudden tension thrumming through him.

“Ealdor Palace,” he replied, his tone grim. “It belongs to the Duke of Langley.”

Angel clutched at his arm. “Why are we here?”

Leo turned to her and reached out, covering her hand with his own. His knuckles were bruised and bloody, but his hand was warm, his touch gentle and reassuring and it steadied her a little. “Do you trust me, Angel?”

She met his eyes, finding herself lost in a world of rich hazel and gold, and the fear that had been crawling up and down her spine dissipated. “I do,” she said simply.

He nodded, satisfaction glinting in his beautiful gaze. “Then don’t be afraid. There’s going to be the very devil of a scene, but we shall come out of it all right, I promise.”

Angel held his gaze and nodded. “All right, then.”

“That’s my girl,” he said approvingly, and his words warmed her, sinking into her heart and giving her courage.

His girl. Despite everything, Angel smiled to herself. Even if her grandfather’s treasure was lost to her, she wouldn’t change a moment of the past days, for they had given her this man, a man she might never have met in any other circumstance, and they had found each other. That was worth more to her than any fortune in Spanish gold or precious jewellery.

Still, reassured or not, the closer they got to the palace, the smaller and more insignificant Angel felt. Silence rang out around them the moment the carriage stopped, and she could not dispel the sense of unreality as they jumped down from the cart and were led into the building through a side door. A grim-faced servant who never looked at them but greeted the headborough with a taut nod, invited them to follow him.

They were led through a maze of servants' corridors, dizzying in number, which gave Angel the impression of a city akin to a rabbit warren that lived within and beneath the grandeur of the house. Finally, they emerged into a well-lit corridor and her eyes widened as she took in the towering ceiling, suits of armour, and heavy, gold-framed ancestral portraits. The air was cool, faintly scented with beeswax and the weight of history that seemed to perfume every breath.

From here they were escorted into an enormous room, lined with huge, gilded mirrors and elaborate chandeliers. Rich carpets softened their footfalls and Angel bit her lip as she watched her mud-encrusted boots sinking into the expensive floor covering. Her astonished gaze could hardly take in the ornate furniture, the brocade and velvet upholstery. Every inch of the room boasted of the owner’s status, of immense wealth and power beyond anything she could imagine.

Beyond this room was a formal chamber, smaller, arranged with heavy wood chairs. A fire blazed in a carved stone fireplace, and Leo guided Angel to the nearest chair and bade her sit down.