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 notmyMr. 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 which 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.
