hand. “It’s a good thing his lordship has taken a liking to you.” She glanced at the flowers and smiled. “I’m certain you’ll be the one he invites to stay on.” There was no denying her joy, for it spilled from her like soap bubbles from a bath. “A proposal of marriage is close at hand, Angelica. Mark my word.”
Unwilling to ruin her mother’s good mood with her own doubts for the future, Angelica merely smiled. “I’d like to speak with him. With Lord Randolph, that is. If possible.”
“Of course. I’ll ask him to come and visit with you right away.” Rose stood and smoothed her gown, assured Angelica she would return promptly, and departed.
A breakfast tray soon appeared, delivered by a maid. Rose returned to keep her company while she ate and then, half an hour later, there was a firm knock at her bedchamber door. Rose stood and went to greet Randolph.
“I’ll be just in there,” she said, pointing toward her own bedchamber. At Randolph’s nod, she departed through the connecting door, leaving it so slightly ajar it might as well have been fully shut.
Angelica twitched her nose. Her mother was not exactly being subtle, though it did work to Angelica’s advantage since she didn’t want to share the words she meant to impart with anyone other than Randolph.
“You look much recovered,” he said once he’d crossed the floor to her bedside. His hand reached out, hovered briefly as if with indecision, then took hold of hers.
A shock of awareness raced up her arm. Her pulse leapt and her gaze met his. His features relaxed before her eyes, softening, until the tension that had bracketed his mouth disappeared. He smiled and sat in the chair her mother had vacated when he arrived.
“I slept well,” Angelica told him. His thumb brushed the back of her hand, tracing a circular path. Heat poured through her. “Thank you for the flowers. They were a lovely surprise.”
“It occurred to me while selecting them that I wasn’t sure of your tastes.” A hint of irritation shadowed his words. “Most women like roses but they felt all wrong when I thought about you.”
“The bouquet you put together is perfect. I’m especially fond of sunflowers.” He’d mixed the happy blooms with a complementary assortment of sapphire blue asters and white chrysanthemums.
“I’m glad.” He sounded immensely pleased.
Angelica bit her lip. The time had come for her to broach a most unusual subject. “Last night,” she began, searching for words as she went along. “I discovered something important.”
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. The corner of his mouth lifted. “That you ought to dress warmer?”
She shot him a disgruntled look. “No.” She shook her head. “This is about your wife.”
His hand flinched, but he did not retrieve it. Not yet. “You asked to see the portrait. It was a condition, if you recall, and I complied. I have no wish to discuss her further. Not with you or with anyone else.”
“That may well be,” Angelica said, “but I cannot so easily ignore her. Not when she keeps demanding my attention.”
His eyes searched her face and he suddenly brought her hand to his lips, kissing her skin with reverence. “You think me still in love with her. You worry you’ll have to compete against her for my affections, but I assure you, Angelica, that’s not the case.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Your hatred for her was etched on your face last night when you looked at her image. It could not have been any clearer.”
“And you wish to know the reason.” He spoke with pain and a touch of resentment, though she wasn’t sure if it was aimed at her or at his wife. Angelica squeezed his hand. He took a deep breath. “You must forgive me, for this is not an appropriate story for an innocent young lady such as yourself, though I do believe circumstance demands honesty on my part.” Turning his head, he met her gaze boldly. “I learned my wife was unfaithful to me the same day she died. She’d complained of a headache the night before, excusing herself from her wifely duties. When I went to check on her in the morning, I discovered her lover, asleep by her side.”
Angelica gasped in shock. “Dear God.”
“She denied any wrongdoing when I questioned her, which only made me angrier since the evidence was right there, staring me in the face.” A disgusted snort punctuated the sentence. “After tossing the groom out, for God help me that was