Angel in Black (5 page)

He took in every detail; her mount reigned to a slow walk as they approached. Again, he found himself shocked to discover she rode the stallion astride and dressed like a man. But the seductive curve of her hips and the sweet feminine attributes, clearly revealed beneath the shirt she wore, made her sex more than apparent.

Rina felt her breath taken away when she found herself staring into golden eyes, much like the man she had just left, obviously Lord Roberts’ expected grandson. But something more held her attention. She saw flames ignite in their depths as they roved over her in a roguish manner; the intensity causing a strange weakness to touch her.

He was certainly handsome, with strong, rugged features and soft, curly brown hair. A slow, devilish smile curved his mouth, the fire in his eyes sparked and boyish dimples appeared. Heavy eyebrows, a strong aristocratic nose, and a neatly trimmed mustache enhanced his strikingly good looks. Powerful, wide shoulders tapered to a slender waist and strong legs, the muscles straining against the fabric of his breeches.

A sudden heat roused Blake as he watched the golden beauty ride by. His smile widened and he gave a slight nod of greeting, her answering smile lighting up her lovely heart-shaped face. Blake moved toward the woman, intending to learn her name. She nudged her mount and the animal leaped forward into a run. Blake considered following, but decided against it. He would make sure they met again — surely she would not be hard to find.

Exhilarated, Blake continued on to Windsong, his mind filled with the wild vision he had encountered by chance. There was something about her that intrigued him; the way she carelessly returned his stare, proud and unafraid, with a touch of unguarded arrogance.

His thoughts remained on the mysterious golden girl, until he started down the familiar oak-lined lane to his estate, anticipation overcoming all. The trees’ giant arms spread their full, green foliage protectively over him, shielding him from the bright sun. The lush green lawns with their immaculately groomed flowerbeds delighted his senses as he rode to the house. The three-story brick mansion, with wrought-iron balconies and large, sunny windows welcomed him as he gracefully jumped off his horse and ran up the stone steps two at a time. The front door flew open, and a man, six years younger than Blake, warmly shook his hand.

“Blake — it’s about time you showed up.” Unable to contain his excitement any longer, Ryon grabbed his brother in a bear hug. “God, I’ve missed you.”

Their laughter filled the hall as the two men entered the house, and Blake happily slapped the younger man on the back. “Ryon, it’s good to be home.”

They walked into the sitting room off the main hallway, and a woman crossed the room to greet them. She was small and pretty, with a slender figure and fine delicate features. Her beautiful auburn hair was neatly arranged around her oval face and cascaded in soft curls to her shoulders. Brown eyes sparkled with happiness, their rich, dark color set off by smooth ivory skin. Ryon took her hand and proudly introduced her to Blake.

“My dearest brother, I would like you to meet my wife, Rebecca.”

“I am happy to meet you at last. You are certainly as beautiful as my brother boasted in his letters.” Blake kissed her soft hand; then, noticing her slim figure, he added, “Am I to assume I am an uncle in addition to being a brother-in-law?”

Rebecca blushed and smiled, she pointed to a cradle by the settee. “She was born two weeks ago.”

Rebecca lifted the blanket so Blake could take a peek at the sleeping babe. He took the tiny hand in his own, caressing it with gentle, giant fingers. A strange feeling of awe overwhelmed him when the infant’s eyes opened briefly and closed again in slumber.

“Blake, we named her Laura Ann.”

Grinning, Blake exclaimed, “Laura? You named her after Mother. She would be so proud, Ryon. Thank you.”

Suddenly solemn, Blake turned to Ryon. “How is he? Can I see him?”

Blake studied his brother who sat beside his wife. Ryon resembled Blake in build and height, but his hair darker, his eyes brown. There was still a youthful innocence in his features, a quality having disappeared from Blake’s own face long ago. But Blake saw the pain in Ryon’s eyes and understood how difficult it must have been for him.

“Grandfather is dying. The doctor says he hasn’t long to live, but what time he does have left will be happy and content with you home again.” Ryon’s voice broke and Blake turned to stare silently out the window, overwhelmed by guilt and grief. After taking a moment to compose himself Ryon whispered hoarsely, “He’s asleep, but you can see him as soon as he awakens.”

Blake turned to his brother, his own emotions reflected in his eyes. “Ryon, I’m so sorry you two have had to bear this alone. I should have been here with my family; instead I made business my number one concern. Now I have so little time to be with him.”

“No, Blake, you shouldn’t feel guilty in any way. You’ve always handled everything. You carry all the responsibilities of this family on your shoulders so we can live here in comfort. I know how much you love Grandfather, how hard you worked to make him proud of you. You have always protected and cared for me, and for the first time, I have been able to carry some of the responsibility, and hopefully save you some pain. You could have done nothing more than has already been done — you couldn’t protect him from death. He’s old, Blake, and ready to die. He is happy and well cared for, and now his eldest grandson is with him for his last days. Truly, it could not be better.”

As they grasped each other in an unusual display of tenderness, the love between the two brothers filled the room. A tear slipped down Rebecca’s soft cheek as she witnessed their affection. She knew now, she liked her brother-in-law.

W
ANTING TO BATHE BEFORE
seeing his grandfather, Blake went up to his room. Elegantly furnished in dark and light blue, his bedroom was warm and pleasing to the eye. A huge four-poster bed with dark blue coverlet and hangings, an elaborate closet, and a dresser with matching nightstands were arranged neatly about the room. A large stone fireplace with huge ceiling-to-floor windows on either side covered with heavy velvet occupied one entire wall. When the drapes were pulled aside, sun poured into the room and the view was breathtaking. A pair of fine, winged leather chairs and ottomans sat comfortably in front of the hearth, and a large writing desk occupied one corner.

Blake pulled off his damp shirt and shucked his boots. As he crossed through to the adjoining room, he rid himself of his dusty breeches. The air was steamy from the tub of hot water waiting for him, and he smiled, pleased at his manservant’s preparations. He had had the private bathing chambers added several years before, modeled after those he had seen in Constantinople, and found them to be the best improvement he’d made at Windsong. A huge marble tub was built into the floor with a rim wide enough to sit on, and piped-in hot and cold water made it easier to bathe often.

Sliding into the bath, Blake felt the warmth soak into him and a tired, yet content, sigh escaped his lips. Once he touched English soil, he was anxious to get home and rode hard from London, the exercise exhilarating after six weeks at sea.

He relaxed and allowed the heat to massage his sore muscles, bringing beads of perspiration to his forehead. His eyes closed and thoughts drifted from his grandfather, to his brother and sister-in-law and niece.

Unexpected, a pair of seductive blue eyes floated into his mind. Visions of the untamed girl on the black stallion teased him. He remembered how her shirt clung to enticing curves and her breasts rose and fell when she rode by. The daring breeches she wore molded to her slim hips and in no way detracted from her femininity. Blake easily recalled her sensuous full lips, the color of roses, soft and ready to be kissed.

Desire spread through him like fire. If mere thoughts of her could arouse him, imagine what she would do in the flesh. He smiled with anticipation, grabbed a sponge and soaped up, thinking of the delight this woman could provide. Blake rinsed, stepped from the tub and wrapped a towel about his waist. When he entered the bedroom he found a fresh suit of clothing had been meticulously laid upon the bed. As Blake finished dressing, a knock sounded on the door and a small, thin man entered.

“It’s good to have you home, sir,” said the servant, his usually grim face giving way to one of his rare smiles.

“How are you, Jacob?” Blake reached out a hand to take the one extended to him. Jacob had been with the family for Blake’s entire life, and from the looks of his withered face, perhaps several more lifetimes.

“Very well, thank you. Your grandfather is awake and anxious to see you.”

Blake pulled on the jacket of dark gray silk and nodded. He solemnly followed the old man out the door into the long hall. When they reached Lord Roberts’ private chamber, Jacob knocked, and opened the door for Blake to enter.

The room was gloomy, the smell of illness thick in the air. His grandfather sat up in bed, his face pinched and drawn. Blake grew alarmed by what he saw. Eyes glazed with fever were sunk back into his head, thin, bloodless lips and skin a deathly shade of gray. Death hovered over this man, so different from what Blake had always known his grandfather to be. Lord Roberts had been healthy and strong, with only a touch of gray sprinkling his dark head and eyes of gold sparkling with intensity and life.

Lord Roberts’ face lit up with joy when his gaze fell upon his eldest grandson. He held out his frail, shaking hands to embrace him and Blake felt like a boy again as he pulled his grandfather into his strong embrace.

“Blake. Oh, my boy. I’m so happy you have come home. Now I can die with all my family about me.”

Blake pulled a chair near the bed and grasped the older man’s hand. “Grandpa, let’s not talk of dying.”

“And why not? I am dying and no one can keep Death from my door. It’s best to face it now. I’ve never been one to avoid the truth and neither should you. Now sit and let an old man rattle on for a while.”

Pausing a moment, as if to collect his thoughts, Lord Roberts patted the hand holding his. “I’ve loved you two boys with all my heart. Blake, you have done well and made me proud. You’ve taken care of us the best way you knew how, and I know you’ll continue to do so in the future. Ryon has made me a proud great-grandfather; Rebecca has brought him great joy and happiness. Perhaps someday you will find someone, I only wish I could live long enough to see it.”

Lord Roberts gripped Blake’s hand tightly, tears of joy coursing unheeded down his wrinkled face. “It will take an exceptional woman to suit you, son, and only one comes to mind. I pray to God you will not be blind when you find her. You are stubborn with a temper that would try a saint. Now, I realize you’ve had a bad experience in the past, but heed an old man’s advice. All women are not the same; your mother and grandmother were wonderful ladies.”

“Yes, they were. If you have someone special in mind, Grandpa, you’d best let me know who she is,” Blake answered wryly, not caring for his grandfather’s topic of conversation.

“No,” He stated emphatically, lips pursed, his face determined. “If you don’t find her on your own, you certainly won’t deserve her. You are on your own, Blake. If you’re obstinate and willful, you will end up living your life alone and empty. You will never know the pleasure of love and the true happiness you would find in sharing your life with someone special. You will never know the joy of having a son, and a grandson as I have. But I will tell you the woman for you will not bend to your will; she will allow no man to rule her. Do not try, or you will lose her. Respect her and, most important of all, treat her as your equal. If you do this, she will love you to the end of time.”

Blake listened to his words but could not agree with them. Love was not something he gave easily, especially to women. All this talk of respect and equality was strange, laughable, but he said nothing.

“I see from the look on your face you do not believe me, perhaps you think I am getting senile. Well, maybe someday my words will make sense to you, and I hope it will not be too late. Ah, I hear the dinner bell, my boy, so you had better go. Maggie runs a tight ship and will wait dinner on no one. Will you return and read to me before you retire?”

“I will be here.” Blake stood and crossed to the door, but paused to look back at his grandfather. “I love you, Grandpa.” The words came out a hoarse whisper when his throat tightened and his eyes blurred from the ache attacking his heart. How could he bear to lose this old man who meant the world to him?

“And I love you, Blake. You must remember I am going to a much better place than this. I will be with your mother and father, and most of all, the one I loved more than life itself, your grandmother. I have been so long without my dear wife’s company, and I want to be with her again. I hope you can understand my wanting to go, dear boy. You are young and have your whole life ahead of you, but I have lived mine and I am ready to die.”

“I shall miss you terribly.”

“Go now — we will have time to talk later.”

T
HE DAYS ROLLED BY
languidly, Blake spending most of his time with his grandfather, content to see the joy his homecoming gave him. On the fourth day after his return, while enjoying a ride at sundown, Blake spotted the small gypsy camp. As he rode Hera nearer the small band of wanderers cheerfully greeted him. They invited him to share the warmth of their fire and gaiety of their music. For more than fifteen years the nomadic people were welcomed to camp on the estate as they passed through, traveling north with their stock. Blake happily accepted their hospitality.

The sun slid below the horizon and darkness settled about the gay revelers. He and his gypsy companions watched the orange and red flames of the campfire leap into the air, hungrily consuming the dry, brittle wood. It cracked and popped, spewing hot embers onto the bare ground, casting its warm glow on the circle of people. Though the day had been warm, night brought with it a cool crispness making the fire welcome.