Throwing a shawl over her shoulders, Angelica left her room and started toward the stairs. She hadn’t gone more than three paces, though, before she was forced to stop and glance over her shoulder. No one was there, yet it felt as though someone were watching her every move. A shiver raced down her spine and her heart beat faster, sensing what she couldn’t see.
Some…thing was there.
No.
No. No. No.
It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t real.
She quickened her pace until she was almost running. The stairs were right there, she just had to reach them. She just…had to round this last corner.
“Heavens! Is everything all right, my lady?”
Mrs. Essex suddenly stood before her, studying her with keen curiosity.
“I’m sorry,” Angelica gasped. She’d nearly barreled straight into the woman. It had taken supreme force of will to reverse her direction. But at least the dreadful sensation creeping up behind her had finally vanished.
Mrs. Essex frowned and tried to look past her. “Was someone chasing you?”
Angelica stared back, then blinked. “No.” But she wasn’t entirely sure. She’d felt something awful. Something not of this world. Or perhaps it was once again her overactive imagination playing tricks on her mind. She wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.
Mrs. Essex smiled with an almost irritating degree of pleasantness. “Why don’t you go downstairs and enjoy a good breakfast. I’m sure you’ll feel better after a hot cup of tea.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Mrs. Essex’s smile widened as she stepped aside so Angelica could pass. There was something about this woman – something distinctly unsettling. Angelica’s stomach clenched as she walked away from her, not on account of fear this time but because of another feeling she couldn’t quite place. It only worsened when, upon reaching the foyer, she looked up to find Mrs. Essex still there. The woman watched her with that pleasant smile of hers, though there was now a pensiveness to her expression.
Shuddering, Angelica made her way to the dining room where breakfast was already underway. It seemed she was the last to arrive. “Good morning,” she said, deliberately keeping her gaze from Lord Sterling as she went to fill a plate for herself at the side table.
“I’m sorry I came down without you,” Rose said. She’d brought her plate over for a refill of bacon, for which she harbored a particular fondness. “But I thought it best to let you rest.”
“It’s quite all right, Mama,” Angelica assured her while wondering whether to try the strawberry jam or the peach preserves. “How did you sleep?”
“Very well. I went up shortly after you and fell asleep almost instantly. How about you?”
“Fine.” Angelica spooned some peach preserves onto her plate.
“Are you sure?” Rose was definitely frowning based on the tone of her voice. “You don’t sound like your usual cheery self.”
“I had a bad dream. That’s all. Nothing a hearty breakfast and a cup of hot tea can’t fix.”
“Not to mention the attentions of our handsome host. Don’t think I didn’t notice you were the only lady with whom he took a turn of the parlor last night.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Angelica whispered.
Rose tilted her head and gave her a don’t-be-silly look. “It means he singled you out.”
“Perhaps,” Angelica allowed. But she was fairly certain she’d bungled whatever chance she’d had of him choosing her. First, by offending him and second, by enraging him to the point where he’d appeared ready to do serious violence. “But what if I don’t want him?”
Her mother blanched. “Don’t even jest about such a thing. We need this match, Angelica. You need it.” Rose’s lips quivered ever so slightly at the corners. “I didn’t want to worry you but my funds are limited. Bloomfield has not been as generous as I’d have hoped, and as a result, I may lose the house.”
Angelica’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“The many expenses left me no choice but to borrow against it.”
“You never said a word.” The modest townhouse with its prestigious address on Berkley Square had been purchased by Angelica’s father when her oldest sister, Stephanie, was born. The purpose had been to create a cozier family home than the grand Bloomfield House manor on the edge of Hyde Park would allow. In his will, Angelica’s father had bequeathed the property to his wife. It was Angelica’s childhood home – the house in which she’d always lived – and the thought of losing it because her father’s cousin was being tight fisted made her feel ill.
“Come. Let us sit down before we attract too much attention.”
Angelica couldn’t move. Her mother had just dropped a cannonball on her head, yet she wanted to sit down and eat as if all was normal? “We need to discuss this, Mama. Surely my sisters can help?”
“They already have.”
And she refused to ask them for further assistance? “But even if I marry well, there’s no guarantee my husband will—”
“No,” Rose said. She looked somewhat piqued. “I would never expect him to, nor would I want to be anyone’s burden. What I am saying is that I may have to relocate to something significantly smaller.”
Understanding dawned. Her mother feared her financial straits would force her to move to a place where there wouldn’t be room for her unmarried daughter. Angelica instinctively glanced toward Lord Sterling, who made no effort to hide the fact that he was watching her with keen interest. Her heart quickened a little and she tightened her grip on her plate. How could she possibly marry a man who was capable of such forceful anger?
“Come,” her mother insisted once more, and this time she walked away, returning to the table without waiting for Angelica to follow.
Angelica dropped her gaze to her plate. All she wanted was to toss it against the wall in despair, but that would be wasteful, not to mention ill-bred, and she actually was quite hungry. So she clenched her jaw and went to sit beside Miss Chesterfield since all the other seats were already taken. It was just as well. Lucy would only want to talk and right now that was the last thing Angelica felt like doing.
Instead, she ate while pondering what her mother had told her.
Having finished his food a while ago, Randolph enjoyed his morning coffee. He tried to engage the women seated closest to him in conversation, though not without keeping a constant eye on Lady Angelica. Her face had been drawn when she’d entered the room. Now, after speaking with her mother, concern strained her features. And she was making a very deliberate effort to keep from looking at him. Really, he had to apologize for his behavior last night. After all, his intention was to woo her, not frighten her away.
“Perhaps you would like to know the schedule for the coming week?” He wasn’t foolish enough to invite six young ladies to his home with no plan to entertain them. All directed their gazes at him, chaperones included. Except Lady Angelica, whose attention remained fixed on the contents of her teacup. “Today I’ll be spending a private hour with each of you so we can improve our acquaintance.”
In a way he dreaded it, for he knew at least two of the candidates would have little to say. At least not enough to fill a whole hour. He also wasn’t sure there was much point to the effort when only Lady Angelica held his interest. Still, they’d all come a long way for his consideration and deserved to be given a chance.