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The woman halted in front of them. Arrogantly, she ignored her host, her focus centred solely upon Angele. “So this is she. The woman who has supposedly returned from the dead,” she stated in a voice that was soft, belying her siren’s appearance.
“This is indeed my beloved wife, Angele St. Nicholas, yes. Again, I ask, have we been introduced, madam?”
She turned a glittering gaze upon him. “Yes. I have to say that I am somewhat surprised and insulted that you do not recall me, St. Nicholas.” With a snap of her scarlet fan, the lady of misrule spun away, and melted into the press of people that milled about the crowded room.
Gabriel and Angele stood silently watching as she weaved her way through the crowds, the red ostrich plumes easily marking her progress across the ballroom.
Their strange visitor was soon forgotten as they danced together, the host leading the dance, a traditional opening to the ball. Friends who had known them as newlyweds claimed their attention. Angele was kept constantly dancing, and etiquette demanded that Gabriel, too, was kept glued to the dance floor.
During a break from her dance suitors, Angele made her way to the refreshment table where a number of thirsty ladies had congregated about the punchbowl. Sensing a presence beside her, Angele turned and looked up from her glass to find the woman in red standing before her.
“You should have stayed dead,” she hissed. “What right have you to come back to take what was supposed to be mine?” The woman spat the words and reaching out suddenly, she snatched the mask from Angele’s face. Frozen the woman stood staring aghast at her. Staggering backwards, she asked, “How could St. Nicholas possibly preferyouto me?”
Angele shrunk into herself in horror. Her disfigurement was exposed to everyone in the room. The expression of shock on the siren’s face would surely reflect what others would feel confronted by her scars. Filled with utter panic, Angele did not know which way to turn. She felt nauseous and thought she might be sick.
“You have the gall to stand there and spout such nonsense while dressed like a harlot! You stand before an angel, an angel who has been returned to me by some a Yuletide miracle! I tell you all that I would choose my Angele above all women—and that most certainly includes you, Lady Bellingham. Yes, I recognise you now, Noelle. Believe me when I tell you that I do not like what I see. I am certain your father shall have something to say upon the subject of his daughter appearing in public dressed as a jezebel. Is this any way to behave if you wish to attract a husband?I think not!”
Angele winced for the girl as her husband gave his former fiancée the most humiliating dressing down she had ever heard delivered in public. However, while she shuddered for the poor girl, her heart vibrated with joy. Gabriel’s words rang with a deep sincerity; he truly loved and wanted only her!
Confidence flowed into her veins. She finally understood that he desired her as she was now and not simply because he remembered her as she used to be.
The musicians stopped playing. Dancers came to a standstill, and those around them stood silent, everyone listening in apparent awe to her husband denouncing Noelle Bellingham.
Angele watched in fascination. The jezebel before her shrank, becoming the young girl she actually was, lacking in confidence to carry through whatever wicked plan she’d intended. Pity moved her at the girl’s sad plight. Just when Angele was about to step forward to intervene, wishing to shield Noelle further from Gabriel’s wrath, a young gentleman, Christian Knight, the son of Sir Rupert Knight, who owned the neighbouring estate, suddenly stepped between the two antagonists. The young man gazed upon the weeping Noelle, admiration glowing in his eyes.
“My lord, with your permission, I should like to assist this young lady from Michaelmas Hall. If it pleases you, I shall escort her over to my parents to afford an introduction.”
Gabriel nodded, a tick twitching in his cheek. Tight-lipped, he stepped aside, allowing the young man to lead Noelle across to the opposite side of the ballroom where his family stood watching the unfolding events with obvious consternation.
Gabriel turned and waved at the musicians. He led Angele onto the dance floor where a quadrille was hastily formed. It was only as they began the dance that Angele realised her mask lay forgotten by the refreshment table. Her face was uncovered, yet no one paid her any heed. People were gathered, staring after Noelle. Ladies whispered behind their fans, but no one’s focus appeared to be on her. She relaxed.
The time came to exchange partners within the dance. The gentleman she was handed to merely smiled kindly, commenting upon the recent icy conditions. Her next partner spoke of the coming Yuletide celebration, asking whether she missed the warmer climate of the continent. No one stared at her scars or questioned her about them. It was just the sort of reassurance she needed to continue dancing unmasked. Finally, she was reunited with her glowering husband.
“Noelle obviously loved you. Was it necessary to be quite so harsh with her?” she asked gently.
“Bloody girl should be horsewhipped. What was she thinking coming here dressed up like that, and all alone? She will be utterly ruined.” He continued to rant in a similar vein. The music ended, and he executed the final bow. She curtsied in reply. Gabriel ushered her from the floor.
Spinning about, he cast her a such a tender look of concern her heart melted. “Are you certain you are all right, my love? I swear I had no idea that Noelle had formed such atendrefor me.”
“I realise that. Poor girl, I feel some sympathy for her. Her love is ambivalent; she does not really know you as a person. I am sure she will recover and move her affection to another. Her pride has been dented, and I should think after the set down you gave her that any romantic feelings she entertained towards you are completely dashed.”
Angele caught a movement from across the room and craned her neck in an attempt to find Noelle’s whereabouts. Scarlet ostrich plumes drew Angele’s eye, and she saw that the Knight family were leaving. Noelle was chaperoned in their midst. Christian guided Noelle forward with a proprietorial hand at the small of her back.
Angele clutched Gabriel’s arm.
“Do look.” She pointed across the room.
They both stilled to watch the family leave. Sir Rupert lifted his hand in a conciliatory gesture as the small group departed.
“Well, well, perhaps I should predict a match,” Gabriel said, sounding relieved, and obviously mollified by such a thought.
The evening continued pleasantly and unremarkably. Gabriel and Angele led the procession into supper, and unmasking came at midnight. Not one person commented on Angele’s face. All the gossip was concentrated on the disgraceful behaviour of Noelle Bellingham. Gabriel privately concluded that it had been a good thing that she had turned up when she had, for it had totally taken any focus away from Angele’s scarred face. Noelle’s disgrace enabled his wife to go unmasked in public for the first time in five years. Since she had overcome that first hurdle last night, Gabriel said he was certain that she would now cope unmasked out in the wider world. After all, she would have him beside her, and woe betide anyone who dared to upset his precious angel.
Chapter 14
Gabriel lay beside his naked wife and watched her sleep. He toyed with a long shimmering curl of hair, waiting for her to awaken. When her eyes finally fluttered open, he smiled.
Angele’s lips curled sweetly. Drowsily, languidly she stretched beside him.
