Angelina's Secret Read online

  Looking up, my breath caught in my throat. He was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. Taller than the other two by nearly two inches; his shoulders were remarkably broad, his glossy raven-black hair had been neatly plaited and tied in the back, and his face was cleanly shaven; however, his most remarkable feature had to be his eyes.

  They were blue, but not just any blue. They were like the clear crisp blue of the most magnificent ocean. It was as if for a moment time stood still, or maybe it was my heart skipping a beat.

  Maintaining eye contact for longer than was polite, I tried to pull away. He simply increased the pressure of his grip as he bent over and placed his lips on the top of my hand.

  “Mademoiselle, please call me Jude,” was all he said, and I knew, without a doubt, as I looked into his eyes that I was face-to-face with my pirate captain again.

  My knees went weak, and I couldn’t breathe as I felt the color leave my face.

  Jonathan grabbed my arm as I felt my legs go out from under me. The next conscious recollections I had was the sensation of being carried by two strong arms while the sound of chaos assaulted my brain. Was I dreaming? My senses were sluggish. I took a deep breath to clear my head. What was happening?

  Then I remembered! Opening my eyes, I felt a jolt go through me like a hot poker.

  No, this most definitely was not a dream! But how could that be? It didn’t make sense. Those were his eyes and that was his smell. Oh, that intoxicating, unforgettable smell.

  “Sir, I am not an invalid to be carried around to and fro. Please put me down,” I whispered, feeling slightly ridiculous.

  “I am afraid I cannot do that, Lady Angelina Stewart. You obviously overexerted yourself riding that beast you call a horse. Your brother instructed me to take you upstairs and deposit you in your chambers. He went to find your mother,” Jude said as he continued up the stairs.

  “I just had a shock, that is all, nothing more. You caught me by surprise, sir,” I replied while pushing against his chest attempting to free myself from his vicelike grip.

  “I didn’t realize I had such an effect on the female persuasion, or perhaps it is only you,” he stated with a satisfied grin on his face.

  “You know exactly of what I speak, sir. You are the very pirate that took me captive last month,” I said with slight malice in my tone.

  “I assure you, Lady Stewart, that I have no idea of what you are speaking. Although Jonathan did spin some wild tale yesterday about you besting a treacherous pirate and his entire crew at sea,” he said with a wry grin and a slight chuckle.

  “I would know you anywhere! You are the very same notorious pirate of which we speak, and you know it. Do not pretend as if I have lost my faculties,” I said between clenched teeth.

  “If you would be so kind, point me in the direction of the room in which you normally reside,” he asked matter-of-factly.

  He acted as if we had never met before, and I almost believed him. Maybe I was losing my mind. Could my mind be playing tricks on me? This refined and highly educated man could not be my pirate. He went to school with Jonathan and grew up with privilege. Extending my hand, I pointed to the door just across from where he stood.

  Opening the door and walking in, he took a minute to admire the interior and headed for the bed. Gently laying me down on the quilt, he brought the back of his hand to my forehead as if feeling for fever. The act was very proper and disconcerting, all at the same time.

  Opening his mouth as if he were about to say something to me, he was stopped when Anna came rushing in followed by Mother and Jonathan.

  “I am so sorry, I wasn’t here when you were brought up, miss.” Anna rushed in with fresh water and a cloth as she immediately began fussing over me. Turning to look at Jude, she gave him a questioning stare before turning her full attention back to me.

  “Angel, what happened?” Mother didn’t even notice that I had a strange man in my room, or if she did, she didn’t acknowledge him. “I told your father that horse was too much for you. He is going to kill you one of these days,” Mother said frantically.

  “Would you both stop fussing! I didn’t eat much this morning and overdid it on my ride, that is all. I am fine now,” I demanded getting slightly irritated with all the attention. I looked past Mother and Anna trying to see Lord Deveraux, but he had slipped out of the room during all the commotion. I felt a little disappointed and tried to get out of bed, but Mother and Anna wouldn’t hear of it.

  Something heavy bumped against my leg. Reaching into my pocket, I discovered the jeweled incrusted dagger that Jonathan had given me. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember putting it in my pocket, but there it was. The metal felt warm and heavy in my hand, and somehow comforting.

  I was not completely convinced that Jude Deveraux and the pirate captain were not one and the same man. It walked like a pirate and smelled like a pirate, it even sounded like a pirate. Who knows, maybe I was seeing scary things in the shadows, or in this case, a perfectly handsome, well-bred duke.

  Reaching into my pocket again to feel the comfort of the knife once more, it did feel good in my hand. Yes, Captain, until we meet again.

  6

  EVENING OF APRIL 12, 1763;

  SEEING SARAH AGAIN

  WAS EXCITED TO ATTEND THE Burgess’s party because I had not had time to see Sarah since I left on my voyage in March. By the time I returned, Sarah had left with her mother and father on a trip of their own. Not much had been said, and I was terribly curious since I had not found out what it was that Sarah had wanted to tell me.

  Mother and Anna had fussed over me all afternoon, which almost drove me crazy. Cloistered in my room like an invalid, while all I wanted to do was find out more about Jonathan’s guests. By the time I had secured my escape, all three of them had left with Father to conduct business in town.

  The added bonus for Anna was that she didn’t have to chase me down in her attempt to get me ready in less than an hour for the evening. She had the whole day to style my hair and make me look presentable.

  My hair had been freshly washed, curled, and fashioned on my head with enough pins and ribbons to assure that there would be no embarrassing mishaps.

  My gown was new and had been picked up from the dress shop only two days prior. It was of rich blue satin and modestly cut low in the front for the standard. Material grazed just off my shoulders with three-quarter-length sleeves and delicate hand made four-inch lace around the cuffs. The skirt was bustled for dancing and would not hamper me by someone accidentally stepping on the hem. With intricate silver stitching of vines and flowers throughout the bodice front and hem of the gown, the effect was simply breathtaking as Anna cinched me into the gown.

  We argued for twenty minutes about how tightly the corset really needed to be, and in the end we reached a compromise. She loosened the corset a little so that I could actually breathe and take in nourishment, and I promised not to pass out on her.

  Our carriage had arrived promptly at eight-thirty, and the house was already abuzz with guests mingling about and talking.

  “Lord Jonathan Edward Allen Stewart, Lady Clarisse Emerson Stewart, and Lady Angelina Marguerite Amelia Stewart.” Our names were announced as we entered the main room just outside of the dining hall. The loud boisterous noise of so many people talking ceased as heads turned, and the buzz of hushed whispers began.

  Lord and Lady Burgess immediately came over to welcome us, and the talking resumed. Mother and Lady Katrina had been good friends for years and never missed an opportunity to visit with one another. Father and Lord John loved to talk politics and business, and I went in search of my dear friend, Sarah, excited to find out what she had been doing all these weeks.

  Running into a few of the young ladies I knew from our social circle, I asked after Sarah, but nobody had seen her.

  Puzzled by Sarah’s absence, I found my way back to Mother and Lady Burgess.

  “Lady Burgess, is Sarah coming down soon?” I inquired, fe
eling some concern.

  “Don’t fuss so, child. She will be along,” Lady Burgess informed me. Something in her tone and look led me to believe that there was something more to it.

  Excusing myself from the ladies as they continued their riveting conversation about the intricate workings of our social circle, I decided to again go in search of Sarah. This time I took the backstairs to her room to see for myself what was really going on.

  Bypassing certain guests and maneuvering around the Wheatly’s, I headed for the hallway that leads to the servants’ quarters near the kitchen.

  Sarah and I had loved running through these halls as children, and we had always given the servants a run for their money when it came to hide-and-seek. I knew these halls better than most of the servants who had been living there for years. Just a quick left at the door, and I would be home free. Sneaking past the kitchen made me feel like a kid again, just like when Sarah and I would—

  “Excuse me, miss, but this part of the house is off-limits to guests,” I heard a rich, deep male voice behind me say.

  Turning around slowly, I saw an older gentleman that I instantly recognized.

  “Oh hello, Mr. Buckley. It is so good to see you again,” I said, trying to be nonchalant. Mr. Buckley was Lord Burgess’s personal valet and head servant.

  “Is that you, Lady Angelina?” he said as he squinted to get a better look at me.

  “Yes, sir, it is. I’m going to find Sarah. She isn’t down yet, and it is almost time to sit down to supper.” I crossed my fingers hoping that Mr. Buckley wasn’t going to be a stickler for protocol and that he would take into consideration all the years I spent running through these halls.

  “If anyone asks you, we never saw each other tonight,” he said with a wink and a smile.

  “Your name will not cross these lips.” Winking back at him, off I went up the stairs and down the hall to the third door on the right.

  I knocked and called out to Sarah as I put my hand on the doorknob to open it. The door suddenly opened in my hand, and I was left staring at an unfamiliar face.

  “Oh, you’re not Sarah,” I said with slight shock registering all over my face.

  “No, miss, I am Mrs. Lawrence. May I help you?” she stated matter-of-factly, daring me to get past her.

  “What happened to Mary?” I inquired of this stone-faced woman blocking my way.

  “I am not at liberty to say, miss. Now if you will be so kind and return to the guests downstairs, Lady Sarah will be down shortly,” the old bat said as she began to close the door on me.

  “That will be Lady Angelina Stewart to you, and I do mind. Please be so kind and move aside, or I will be forced to move you,” I said with an air of authority as I pushed my way past Mrs. Lawrence and into the room.

  “I will have to get Mr. Buckley and have you removed if you don’t leave right now,” she said with bravado this time.

  “Do you have any idea who I am, madam? Never mind. Please go and fetch Mr. Buckley and shut the door on your way out!” I said, turning my back to her as I looked around the room for Sarah.

  Waiting for the old hag to leave the room, I turned and locked the door so that Sarah and I wouldn’t be disturbed by Mrs. Lawrence.

  “Sarah, talk to me. What is going on? And where is Mary?” I asked in a rush of words as I walked over to my best friend and found her sitting at her mirror, not moving. “Why is that woman standing guard at your door?” I demanded, standing in front of her now looking down at her beautiful face.

  I was shocked by what I saw. The normally lovely complexion that radiated health and joy was replaced with someone who was pale and gaunt.

  “What the hell is going on, Sarah? You will forgive my shock, but it has only been six weeks since I saw you last, but I hardly recognize you.” I took her small frame in my arms and just held her.

  “Oh, Angelina, I have missed you so much. You are like a breath of fresh air. Don’t you ever leave me alone again,” she whispered into my neck as she put her head on my shoulder, like a little child searching for comfort.

  “I won’t, Sarah, I promise.” Tears ran down my cheeks as I rocked her back and forth. We sat in silence for the longest time as I held her small frame in my arms rocking her, trying to take her pain away. I didn’t know what had happened, and it didn’t matter at the moment. I just knew that she needed me, and I would never leave her alone again. When the time was right, she would tell me everything.

  Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Lawrence had returned with reinforcements, was now pounding on the door and demanding to be let in. Walking to the door, I opened it, irritated by this annoying woman. Mrs. Lawrence was short in stature, standing only five feet four inches tall, so it was easy to look down my nose at her. Mr. Buckley and another servant I didn’t recognize stood behind her.

  “My lady, you will remove yourself from these quarters immediately,” Mrs. Lawrence said with a sullen tone attempting to assert her authority.

  “We were just going down to supper, Mrs. Lawrence. And in the future, you might remember your place. Lady Stewart is not only my best friend but your superior. I hope that we never have to speak of this again,” Sarah said from behind me with more strength than I would have believed her to have a mere five minutes before. Taking hold of my right arm, she gave Mrs. Lawrence a snub as we passed.

  “Mr. Buckley, Tom,” Sarah acknowledged the other two servants in the hall blessing them with a gracious smile as I winked and nodded to Mr. Buckley when we passed. We headed down the stairs like old times, arm in arm. Sarah’s mother was very happy to see us coming down together.

  Soon after, the announcement was made inviting all the guests to dinner and they began to gather near the doors.

  Sarah said something to one of the servants dressed in his evening finery, and he disappeared behind the closed doors.

  Lord and Lady Burgess were the first through the doors followed by visiting dignitaries and then everyone else, according to their social ranking.

  Sarah and I escorted each other into the dining room and found our seats. To my great surprise, we were seated beside each other and somewhere around the middle of the table. This gave greater access to the goings-on and made for wonderful entertainment during lulls in conversations with the dinner guests on either side of us.

  To my left sat Lord Bute. He had just been elected prime minister of Parliament and stirred up a lot of controversy during the signing of the Treaty of Paris. Controversy because it was his belief that Great Brittan would not be able to protect all of the territories captured during the Seven Years’ War. So on the tenth of February in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and sixty-three, the Treaty of Paris was signed, giving those territories back to France and Spain.

  Seated strategically down the table, and on the other side of John Wilkes, was a tremendously interesting figure in his own right. John hated Lord Bute with a passion for several reasons, but the most out-standing reason was his origin of birth. Lord Bute had the misfortune of being born a Scotsman, and John Wilkes despised the Scottish people in general, and especially Lord Bute, because he was a Scotsman with power.

  John Wilkes owned a magazine and used it to his full advantage when he had something on his mind. He was, after all, a very opinionated man. Some would say that the things printed and published were libelous and inflammatory at best.

  John Wilkes was elected to the House of Parliament, and the icing on the cake was when his cronies elevated him to the rank of prime minister because he then became immune from being prosecuted for libel.

  However, that was not what stood out about him to me. John Wilkes was easily the ugliest man in England with his stubby features, squinty eyes, and balding head. Yet he had a reputation as a notorious womanizer. I guess there is no accounting for taste.

  Next to Sarah on her right sat my brother Jonathan, who always had a bit of a crush on her, and I believe she reciprocated. Across from Jonathan sat Honore Lacroix. To his right, Mary Taylor,
and next to her and directly across from me Jude Deveraux, Duke of Bayonne.

  Tipping his glass and fixing me with a cordial but piercing stare, he studied my face for a moment as if he were thinking of something else. Then dismissively turning to his left, he began speaking with Mary Taylor. Slightly disturbed by his subtle assessment and dismissal of me, I decided to play his game.

  Turning my attention to Lord Bute, we began to discuss the benefits of fostering good relations with France and Spain by returning certain territories to them, and the impact it might have on the English economy.

  As the plates were being removed after the first course and the second course was being served, I felt a prickling on the back of my neck. Turning, I noticed Jude Deveraux had obviously gotten bored with his dinner companion and her stimulating wit and was once again studying me. Turning slightly from my provocative conversation with Lord Bute, I intended to stimulate the duke in a different way and pull him into our new topic.

  “Tell me, Mr. Deveraux, where do you stand on the policy of foreign countries giving out Letters of Marque to pirates and giving them permission to plunder helpless ships and kill good men at will?” I asked with a spark of interest shining in my eyes as I fixed him with a piercing gaze of my own. Oh yes, Jude Deveraux or pirate captain, I will draw you out and make you show your true colors.

  “To tell you the truth, Lady Stewart, I have no real opinion on the matter. I don’t like the sea that much. In fact, I find it lovely to look at, but you wouldn’t catch me out on the open ocean unless I had to be. I never really learned to swim,” he replied while crinkling up his nose as if he found the thought of an ocean voyage distasteful.

  “Surely, you have some opinion one way or the other on the matter regardless of your distaste for ocean voyages, good sir. The sheer act of piracy, and the taking of innocent lives, then calling it all well and good with a letter of decree from their government protecting them from prosecution is a travesty,” Lord Bute pushed him with an impassioned plea to stop sitting on the fence regarding such an important matter.