The Secrets of Colchester Hall: A Gothic Regency Romance Page 9

  Angelica glanced across at the flowers. “Because I’m starting to think this might be where I belong.”

  His eyes darkened in contrast to the gentle caress of his fingers as they tugged a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “God, I want to kiss you right now.”

  Her lips parted with surprise. “Moments ago you wanted to toss me out.”

  “Can you honestly blame me?”

  She thought about that. Seriously. Her lips quirked. “No. I don’t suppose I can.”

  Warmth, the kind that brought to mind cozy evenings spent in front of an open fire, emanated from his eyes. “Loath as I am to leave your side, I should probably go. Mrs. Essex has—”

  “Randolph.” Angelica clutched his hand. “I know she is one of your most trusted servants, but I don’t feel comfortable in her presence. She unnerves me.”

  “If it is her beauty you’re concerned with—” a quelling look silenced her protest “—you may rest assured that it has never had any effect on me. It would, however, be dishonest of me to deny an awareness of it.”

  “As comforting as that is for me to hear, it is not her appearance that concerns me but rather an unpleasant feeling I get whenever I’m near her.”

  “And you are certain it isn’t because you fear she might tempt me, because I promise you, Angelica, you have nothing to fear on that score. Mrs. Essex is a servant, a young and attractive one, I’ll grant you, but a servant nonetheless, and I am not the sort of man who would ever cross the line that exists between us. Even if I were interested, which I am not.”

  In her heart, she knew this to be true and yet the woman still intimidated her. Could she possibly doubt her judgment, and him, on account of her own insecurities? Maybe. She certainly didn’t relish the idea of having a housekeeper who would forever outshine her. People would wonder, would they not, about her reason for keeping Mrs. Essex in her employ? They would ask, as she had done, if she was Randolph’s mistress.

  “If I stay and we marry, would you consider letting me hire a new housekeeper?”

  “And sack Mrs. Essex?” Incredulity colored his words.

  “I realize I’m probably being silly, but she and I would have to interact a great deal on a daily basis, and I simply cannot see myself doing so with a woman I do not like.”

  “Angelica, she is a widow with no other means of support. If I were to let her go, do you honestly think she would find employment elsewhere when this is the only job she has ever had?”

  It was a rhetorical question of course, because any reasonable person would know that no other household would hire a housekeeper with Mrs. Essex’s looks. Her presence would forever pose a threat to the lady of the house, effectively deeming her unemployable.

  “Please trust my judgment when I tell you that she is a fine housekeeper,” Randolph continued. He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her skin. “And you have nothing to fear from her in the least. My devotion is to you.”

  His declaration melted Angelica’s bones until she felt like a gooey mess. “Very well,” she agreed when she was able to find her voice.

  A smile spread across his face. “Get up and get dressed. I have a surprise waiting for you downstairs.” He stood, crossed to the connecting door, and gave it a rap. Rose entered with enough of a delay to assure Angelica that her mother had not been listening in on their conversation. “Tonight we shall dance,” he told Angelica, “and then there will be no doubt as to whom I have chosen.”

  Chapter 6

  Music floated through the air, mixing with the dazzling glow from two magnificent crystal chandeliers. Gems—hanging from earlobes, dripping from wrists, and wound around necks—winked in response to the light. Feathers adorning fans and hairpieces alike bowed and swayed in time to a mutual rhythm. Never before had Angelica witnessed such opulence. Gowns cut in the latest styles and embellished with beadwork, ribbons, and gold thread embroidery shimmered in response to each movement made by the ladies who wore them.

  And then there was Randolph. He was handsome on an ordinary day, but tonight? Dressed in all black evening attire, he’d stolen her breath when she’d seen him standing at the entrance to the ballroom. They hadn’t had time to exchange many words since he was the host and thus duty-bound to receive the rest of his guests as well. But flames had danced in his eyes as he’d watched her approach, and his lips had brushed her ear when he’d leaned in to tell her how stunning she looked.

  With her mother by her side, she’d murmured her thanks before moving away, her ice blue skirts swishing across the floor as she went. She’d even managed to ignore Mrs. Essex’s challenging gaze as she’d passed her, allowing herself to focus solely on the enjoyment ahead. Today had offered no additional chills or inexplicable visions, granting Angelica a reprieve from the anxiousness that had chased her since her arrival at Colchester Hall.

  “Isn’t it magnificent?” Lucy asked when the two of them took a turn of the room later that evening. She and Randolph had already danced a country dance, and he was now partnering with Miss Stevens for a quadrille.

  “It is indeed.” Even the refreshment table was a vision to be marveled at with two large fruit pyramids crafted from strawberries, melons, orange slices, and pineapples standing at each end. Several trays containing triangle-shaped sandwiches, a couple of three-tiered displays piled with colorfully decorated petits fours, and large crystal bowls filled with punch and lemonade stood between them. Champagne was constantly being passed around by footmen while maids drifting between the guests offered bite-sized meals, each skewered by a beautifully carved toothpick.

  “I shall miss you,” Lucy added. “I do not have many friends and certainly none whose company I enjoy as much as yours. Promise you’ll write?”

  “Of course.” Angelica smiled brightly to banish the maudlin mood Lucy’s words encouraged. She would miss her as well. “I expect you to keep me updated on your Mr. Thompson.”

  Lucy flushed a deep shade of scarlet and quickly opened her fan to chase away the heat. “He’s not my Mr. Thompson.”

  “Well, if you like him half as much as I think you do, he should be, if only to make you happy.”

  “You really are the truest friend and… Oh, it’s Lord Sterling. I dare say he’s coming toward us.”

  And so he was. His long legs cut a direct line through the crowd, effortlessly parting it as he made his approach. And then he was there, standing before Angelica, his dark eyes glittering like a pair of black diamonds.

  “My lady.” He held his hand toward her. “I believe it is time for our dance.”

  She did not hesitate. Not for a second. His fingers curled around hers, offering her security and, dare she hope, the promise of love? Her heart beat frantically as they made their way onto the dance floor. And then she was in his arms, swirling about, and it all felt…

  Perfect.

  “Angelica.” Piercing intensity met her gaze as he spun her around. His hand pressed firmly against her back, guiding her along. “I know there is much for us to resolve, but I would be honored if you and your mother would remain here at Colchester Hall one more week.”

  He was formally voicing his intentions, asking her to make a decision. Of course, she’d already done so, in spite of her lingering concerns. On one hand, she would have to accept his ancestral home and the ghost that came with it, not to mention the constant presence of Mrs. Essex. On the other, her mother’s home would be safe and… Well, then there was the man himself. She smiled up at him while reflecting on their brief acquaintance. He’d laughed with her, chastised her, doubted her, and finally placed his trust in her. He’d listened to her complaints and taken deliberate strides to please her, not only by catering to her preferred taste for food but by rearranging the formal parlor.

  That had been the surprise he’d mentioned. When she’d come downstairs for luncheon, Lucy had shown her into the room which seemed completely transformed. Randolph had followed her advice to the letter, creating a cozy atmosphere in whic
h she knew she would feel right at home.

  And then, of course, there was his thoughtful selection of flowers and, most importantly, his acceptance of her as a person. He liked her boldness – encouraged it even – and always seemed to appreciate her company.

  All in all, now that the time had come, her answer was easy. “Nothing would please me more.”

  A spark of pleasure brightened his eyes and his hand squeezed hers. “I’m incredibly glad to hear it.”

  “Did you doubt my response?”

  “A little.”

  His uncertainty conveyed a startling degree of vulnerability. “Then allow me to reassure you. Now that my mind is made up, nothing will ever compel me to leave you. Unless it is what you want.”

  “I would never.”

  She believed him, yet the nature of their agreement forced her to say, “That is for you to decide within the next week.”

  “Angelica, I—”

  “Take your time.” She did not want him making a hasty decision. She needed him to be certain, because if he wasn’t, she feared the obstacles they would face in the future as husband and wife might tear them apart. And that was something she would not be able to bear.

  He frowned with distinct disapproval, yet he did as she asked. “Very well.”

  Angelica smiled as she savored the moment. Who would have thought it possible to fall in love within the space of one week? And yet she knew this was what she had done, for she could not imagine her life without Randolph in it. She craved his nearness and yes, his kisses, but also the conversations they would be able to have. He respected her and treated her as his equal, which was something none of the young men she’d met in London had ever been capable of. The moment she’d voiced her unfiltered views, they’d labeled her difficult, too opinionated for her own good.

  Not Randolph. By contrast, he encouraged her to be direct and honest. It was liberating, really, and utterly wonderful.

  The music faded, drawing them to a gliding halt. He bowed and she curtseyed as custom dictated, but instead of escorting her off the dance floor immediately after, Randolph clasped her hand in his and turned. Together, side by side, they faced his guests.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” He spoke with impressive clarity. “As you know, I am looking to remarry. During this past week, I have considered several young ladies and am now pleased to confirm that my choice has been made. Lady Angelica has agreed to remain here at Colchester Hall for another week together with her mother, after which she’ll receive my offer of marriage.”

  “Nooo!”

  Angelica fought not to laugh in response to Lady Seraphina’s shrill protest, which was quickly drowned out by clapping and cheers. Amidst the crowd were the rest of the candidates Randolph had invited. Most wore sullen expressions, except Lucy who openly grinned.

  Angelica glanced up at the man she’d fallen in love with. The joy he conveyed with the curve of his lips and the heated gaze he was subjecting her to made her heart bloom with warmth. This was what happiness felt like, and with him by her side she believed it would last forever.

  “Tomorrow morning will be busy,” he told her later in reference to the rest of the guests’ departure. With Rose’s permission, Randolph had been allowed to walk Angelica to her bedchamber door. “But I look forward to spending the afternoon exclusively in your company.”

  “As do I.”

  He hesitated briefly as if considering a kiss. Much to Angelica’s disappointment, he took a step back and simply bowed. A cool whisper stroked Angelica’s ear. A breeze chilled her skin. She grabbed Randolph’s arm before he turned away.

  “Do you feel that?”

  He frowned even as icy hands brushed the length of her back. She shivered and turned to look, searching for Viscountess Sterling. Frost whitened her breath and worked its way into her lungs. An ache crept over her ribs, tightening her chest until her heart struggled to beat.

  “Nothing is out of the ordinary to me, and yet you are clearly freezing.” He pulled her into his arms and rubbed his warm hands over her skin. “Where is she, Angelica? Do you see her?”

  She shook her head against his chest. “No.”

  “I’ll order a bath for you so you can warm up.”

  “It’s horribly late for that. The servants have enough work to do cleaning up after the ball, and I do think the cold is subsiding a little.” She managed not to chatter while saying this last part, lending credence to her words.

  “All right.” He glanced around. The hallway was empty. “I hate leaving you like this.”

  “It’s all right. I will be fine.” She sighed as the cold released its grip and drifted away. “There’s not really anything either of us can do until we know more.”

  “I suppose that is true.”

  Angelica reached for her door handle.

  “Do you know where my bedchamber is?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Just follow that hallway over there to the right until you reach the door at the end. Fetch me if you need me, no matter the hour.”

  “Randolph, my mother is right next door and besides, it wouldn’t be proper.”

  “Hang propriety.” The command straightened her spine. She blinked and Randolph cursed beneath his breath before adding, “Nothing is of greater importance to me than your safety. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  He sighed, visibly relieved. “Good.” He nodded once as if to confirm that the matter was settled, and strode off with measured steps.

  Angelica watched him go before slipping inside her room. But right before she closed the door, she caught sight of Mrs. Essex. The woman stood on the opposite side of the stairwell, as if she’d just come from the gallery. Angelica froze, her breath caught in her throat. Mrs. Essex merely smiled and turned away, leaving Angelica standing in her bedchamber doorway with a thundering heart.

  Swallowing, she closed the door and locked it, then went to knock on the door to her mother’s bedchamber. “I just wanted to say good night,” she told her mother once she granted her entry.

  Rose smiled at her with adoration. “Have I told you how happy I am on your behalf?”

  Angelica grinned. “At least a dozen times.”

  Her mother’s expression turned serious. “Will you be happy with him if you marry?”

  “I believe so. Yes.”

  “So then the matter that has been troubling you has been put to rest?”

  “Not exactly,” Angelica confessed, “but we are tackling it together and in the end, I believe all will be well.” It was what she had to believe because the idea of being haunted by Lady Sterling’s ghost for the rest of her life wasn’t one she could accept.

  Rose’s concern was evident in her tight-knit frown. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.” Angelica even managed a smile in an effort to put her at ease.

  “Then I wish you a good night as well for I am verily exhausted.” She gave Angelica a hug before ushering her back toward her own room. “Your future is brighter than ever before, my darling, and while I know my opinion is biased, I think you will make a splendid viscountess.”

  “Thank you, Mama.”

  Rose nodded. “You father would have been incredibly proud.”

  Angelica’s eyes misted and the smile she’d been wearing wobbled a little. She embraced her mother once more before stepping back into her own room. The connecting door closed with a gentle click. Yawning, she rang for a maid to help her undress, then went to work on her hairpins. No more than half an hour later, she was in bed, sinking into blissful oblivion.

  As difficult as it was for Randolph to believe what Angelica told him, he could not dismiss the evidence. For one thing, there was the letter. No one besides him, Katrina, and the person who’d penned it had seen it. He’d made sure of that.

  And if that weren’t enough, there was the uncommon chill affecting Angelica each time she sensed a presence. He could see it even though he himself was immune.


  Standing by the fireplace in his bedchamber, he stared into the leaping flames and wondered why Katrina had chosen Angelica. Because of the room? Because her mind was more open to the impossible? Or because she was the only woman who held his interest?

  His skin rippled with sudden unease. What if Katrina was jealous? Her unfaithfulness would suggest she did not care about him or what he did, but what if that wasn’t true? Or what if she’d come to punish him for his part in her death? Could a ghost harm a living person and if so, did she have ill will toward Angelica?

  Christ, he was going to go mad with all of these unanswerable questions.

  A brandy. That was what he needed to calm himself. He’d seen Angelica to her bedchamber. If anything happened during the night, surely her mother would hear.

  Somewhat appeased by this rationalization, he poured himself a drink. The ball had gone well and tomorrow he would begin the second part of his courtship. An electric thrill buzzed through him. He could scarcely wait to spend more time with Angelica.

  Something wasn’t right. She wasn’t alone in her bed. In fact… Angelica reached out and touched the warm body beside her. No. This was all wrong. She sat and a lock of red hair fell over her shoulder. Trembling, she stared at her hands in the morning light. An emerald ring gleamed like a frost-covered clover.

  Turning, she considered the man who still slept. It was Marcus, the head groom, but what on earth was he doing there and why was he naked? She considered calling Randolph, but hesitated. She remembered nothing from last night’s events. What if… Dear God. What if… Her vision blurred only to refocus on a letter. Someone had slipped it under her door and… She remembered Randolph’s anger. The words he’d spoken had been unkind – brutal and hateful – but who could blame him? For all he knew she’d betrayed him with Marcus.

  A piercing pain cut through her breast. She stared at the letter.

  I saw what happened. Meet me at midnight, by the entrance to the east wing if you want my help – a friend.