today.”
She started by him, but he firmly took her hand and led her up the stairs.
Angele tensed. She could tell he was annoyed, but when Corbett told how she had sneaked out—as undoubtedly he would—he was really going to be mad.
When they reached the landing and turned, and the staff could no longer see, Ryan quietly said, “I don’t like this, Angele. Corbett didn’t want to go with me to Blois, and I agreed with the understanding he would keep you company. I don’t want you out alone.”
Angele was swept with indignity. He was not her keeper, for heaven’s sake! “You seem to forget,” she reminded stiffly, “that before you met me I was quite alone.”
“That was different. You passed for a boy. Now you’re a lady.”
“I can take care of myself.” She looked up at him and saw how his blue eyes were troubled. “Really. You don’t have to worry about me.”
He returned her stare. “I said I didn’t want you out by yourself, Angele, and that’s the end of it.”
She bit back an angry retort, not about to jeopardize her position. Let him think she would be subservient. Once they were married, he would quickly discover she had a mind of her own and was not about to be treated as chattel.
Pretending acquiescence, she nodded, then, making her tone pleasant, inquired as to whether his trip to Blois had been successful.
“Very much so. I bought some fine horses, and they’re being rushed to Le Havre to be boarded on the ship.” They had reached the door to her room. “I’ll tell you about them at dinner.”
Angele looked beyond him to see Corbett coming down the hall. “I don’t want to go to dinner. I have a headache. I plan to retire early.”
Before Ryan could respond, Corbett reached his side. “I’m sorry to hear that, Angele,” he said to her. “If you’re sick, maybe we should have a doctor come take a look at you.”
Angele pulled her hand from Ryan’s. “I’m not sick. I just don’t feel well. I’ll be fine by tomorrow morning.”
Ryan agreed with Corbett. “I’ll ask the concierge if he can find a doctor. We can’t have you start the trip sick.”
“You are both making a fuss for nothing. I’m going to bed, and if anyone knocks on my door, I won’t answer.” She stepped inside her room, closed the door behind her, and locked it.
Ryan stood there a moment, then whirled on Corbett. “Why did you let her go off by herself this morning? I told you to keep an eye on her.”
Corbett started walking away. Ryan was right behind him, asking again why he had not followed his orders. Corbett waited till they were a good distance from Angele’s room. Probably the little conniver had her ear pressed to the door, wanting to hear what he had to say about her, and there was no way he was going to let her know he had followed her. He could tell she was wary of him, but he had to put on a genial front. After all, Ryan could be quite stubborn, and if he insisted on marrying her after what he had to tell him, he couldn’t make it look as though he was trying to make trouble. If that happened, Ryan would be prone not to believe him in the future.
“Damn it, Corbett. I’m tired from the trip, and I’ve got a lot to do to be ready to leave tomorrow. I don’t need to be worrying about Angele. Now, I asked you—why didn’t you keep an eye on her?”
Corbett clenched his teeth to keep from grinning as he responded to pique his cousin’s interest, “And what makes you think I didn’t?”
Chapter Eight
Angele knew Ryan was still angry, because he was quiet and brooding on the ride to Le Havre. Corbett, however, seemed to be trying to make up for how Ryan was acting, talking constantly and going out of his way to be nice to her.
It was a gorgeous day. A gentle breeze blew puffy fingers of snowy-white clouds across a tinted cobalt sky, and the sun was a teasing peach-and-golden orb, sending warmth in peek-a-boo waves.
They stopped for lunch at a tiny cafe. Ryan
She started by him, but he firmly took her hand and led her up the stairs.
Angele tensed. She could tell he was annoyed, but when Corbett told how she had sneaked out—as undoubtedly he would—he was really going to be mad.
When they reached the landing and turned, and the staff could no longer see, Ryan quietly said, “I don’t like this, Angele. Corbett didn’t want to go with me to Blois, and I agreed with the understanding he would keep you company. I don’t want you out alone.”
Angele was swept with indignity. He was not her keeper, for heaven’s sake! “You seem to forget,” she reminded stiffly, “that before you met me I was quite alone.”
“That was different. You passed for a boy. Now you’re a lady.”
“I can take care of myself.” She looked up at him and saw how his blue eyes were troubled. “Really. You don’t have to worry about me.”
He returned her stare. “I said I didn’t want you out by yourself, Angele, and that’s the end of it.”
She bit back an angry retort, not about to jeopardize her position. Let him think she would be subservient. Once they were married, he would quickly discover she had a mind of her own and was not about to be treated as chattel.
Pretending acquiescence, she nodded, then, making her tone pleasant, inquired as to whether his trip to Blois had been successful.
“Very much so. I bought some fine horses, and they’re being rushed to Le Havre to be boarded on the ship.” They had reached the door to her room. “I’ll tell you about them at dinner.”
Angele looked beyond him to see Corbett coming down the hall. “I don’t want to go to dinner. I have a headache. I plan to retire early.”
Before Ryan could respond, Corbett reached his side. “I’m sorry to hear that, Angele,” he said to her. “If you’re sick, maybe we should have a doctor come take a look at you.”
Angele pulled her hand from Ryan’s. “I’m not sick. I just don’t feel well. I’ll be fine by tomorrow morning.”
Ryan agreed with Corbett. “I’ll ask the concierge if he can find a doctor. We can’t have you start the trip sick.”
“You are both making a fuss for nothing. I’m going to bed, and if anyone knocks on my door, I won’t answer.” She stepped inside her room, closed the door behind her, and locked it.
Ryan stood there a moment, then whirled on Corbett. “Why did you let her go off by herself this morning? I told you to keep an eye on her.”
Corbett started walking away. Ryan was right behind him, asking again why he had not followed his orders. Corbett waited till they were a good distance from Angele’s room. Probably the little conniver had her ear pressed to the door, wanting to hear what he had to say about her, and there was no way he was going to let her know he had followed her. He could tell she was wary of him, but he had to put on a genial front. After all, Ryan could be quite stubborn, and if he insisted on marrying her after what he had to tell him, he couldn’t make it look as though he was trying to make trouble. If that happened, Ryan would be prone not to believe him in the future.
“Damn it, Corbett. I’m tired from the trip, and I’ve got a lot to do to be ready to leave tomorrow. I don’t need to be worrying about Angele. Now, I asked you—why didn’t you keep an eye on her?”
Corbett clenched his teeth to keep from grinning as he responded to pique his cousin’s interest, “And what makes you think I didn’t?”
Chapter Eight
Angele knew Ryan was still angry, because he was quiet and brooding on the ride to Le Havre. Corbett, however, seemed to be trying to make up for how Ryan was acting, talking constantly and going out of his way to be nice to her.
It was a gorgeous day. A gentle breeze blew puffy fingers of snowy-white clouds across a tinted cobalt sky, and the sun was a teasing peach-and-golden orb, sending warmth in peek-a-boo waves.
They stopped for lunch at a tiny cafe. Ryan
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