Angel's Devil by Suzanne Enoch Read Free Book Online

moment,
then raised his chin, "and being your second in duels."
    He stopped, but
James stood quietly, waiting for the rest. "And?" he finally
prompted, looking at his cousin.
    "And so
I'm only asking one favor. A large one, I'll admit, but I'll never ask you for
another."
    "Why did
you never write and tell me about your Angel?" James asked instead of
answering.
    Simon eyed him
suspiciously, apparently sensing that he was being put off. "It was
actually something of a surprise."
    "You mean
you proposed by accident?" James returned, raising an eyebrow. "That
seems a bit scatter-witted for you, cousin. You being the sensible one, and
all."
    His cousin
relaxed a little. "It was no accident. I meant that we met early last
Season, Angel and I, and we had so much in common and became such good friends,
that, well, I suddenly realized I was very much in love with her."
    James studied
his cousin for a moment. "So elope."
    Simon actually
blanched. "I could never do such a thing. Angel's parents would never
forgive us."
    "But
they'd forgive you playing this little game with their daughter's honor?"
    "They
won't know it's a game. And as the three of us will, her honor will never be at
risk."
    "What about the rest of the ton? They've already got their
noses into this. And I'm trying to make amends. I'm looking for a wife. I don't
want—"
    His cousin
snorted. "You? Looking for a wife?" He gestured toward the door
Angelique had disappeared through. "That was what you two were talking
about?"
    "Why does
everyone find the combination of myself and matrimony to be so damned amusing?"
James growled.
    Apparently
seeing that he was serious, Simon sobered. "All right," he said,
"find a wife. After you've helped me." He raised a hand when
James began to protest. "Your reputation will receive barely another
scuff. And with your wealth, there are females about who wouldn't care if you
were a one-eyed dwarf with a hunched back, anyway."
    "Simon—"
    "James,
please. I want to get married. Help me."
    James sighed.
"All right. But one of us is going to regret this." He looked over at
his cousin, his expression serious. "And I hope it's me."
    Simon stepped
over and clasped his shoulder. "It will be neither of us. Trust me."

 
     
    4

     
    "When do I
get to meet your Simon?" Lily Stanfred queried as she and Angelique rode
together in Hyde Park.
    "He's
supposed to come for tea this afternoon," Angel smiled, then sighed.
    "What is
it?"
    "Oh, just
thinking. If I can stand my stuffy parents for another nine months, I'll be
free."
    "And then
what?" Lily smiled.
    Angelique threw
out one hand. "I can do anything I wish! No one will complain about me
ruining the floor or the furniture if I take in a stray dog, or cat, or . . .
fox; no one will tell me I'll be ruined if I want to go walking in my garden
without my bonnet, or without my shoes; no one to disagree if I like the ratty
old chair in the morning room and don't want it moved up to the attic."
    "Heavens,
Angel, it sounds as though you want to become a red Indian."                .
    "Well, I
don't wish to scalp anyone, of course," Angelique answered, then laughed.
"I only mean that it will be pleasant to make decisions for myself,
without someone else dictating what's best for me."
    "As long
as Simon approves," her friend pointed out.
    "Oh, of
course."
    Angel smiled at
Lily. If her friend had been there for the beginning of summer she might very
easily have been named the toast of the Season. Fair-skinned, Lily Stanfred was
gentle and elegant, with blue eyes soft as a lamb's and hair the color of—
    "The
pollen that peppers the petals of proud primroses," a voice lisped, and
Angel looked up, startled.
    Percival Alcott
and his brother, Arthur, approached them.
    Angel cringed,
for though she had managed to get through the Season with fewer than a dozen
dances with both brothers, she considered even that number to be too many.
"Beg pardon?"
    "I said,
my lady, that your exquisite companion's