During breakfast, Angelica had noted with grim amusement that her mother had likely slept less than she had. The layer of powder under her eyelids was so thick that it looked ready to topple from her face into her cup of chocolate at any moment.
“When the Duke of Burnrath calls upon you, you must show him your skills with the pianoforte. Gentlemen are pleased when a lady has musical talent. But”—Margaret’s eyes narrowed in warning—“you mustn’t play those scandalous songs you have written and do not sing under any circumstances! I have told you again and again, my dear, that our Lord did not gift you with a pleasant voice, as much as you seem to wish otherwise.” She set down her cup with a clatter, warming up to the lecture. “Oh, and do not discuss those gothic novels and their freakish notions you seem to adore and…”
I wonder what he would do if I did sing? Angelica crushed the biscuit on her plate with sadistic cheer. In fact, what would he do if I did everything Mother tells me not to? There it was. For once, she made an effort to listen to her mother’s advice, especially in regards to what not to do. There lay her way out of this predicament. She would do everything a “proper lady” would never do. In short, she thought with a grin, she would be herself.
The Duke of Burnrath would never want to wed her if he truly knew her. He had said that “love was hardly a necessary ingredient for a successful marriage.” Angelica was well aware of that depressing truth, but she believed the reason for the alleged success of marriages within the peerage, aside from terror of the scandal attached to a divorce, was the fact that the two parties were virtual strangers. Surely no one would be able to bring themselves to marry someone if they knew all their flaws before the nuptials!
A glimmer of hope quickened Angelica’s pace up the stairs to her bedchamber. If getting to know her failed to deter the duke, she would run away and endeavor to support herself with her writing.
As Liza pulled an elegant emerald brocade gown over Angelica’s head, Angelica managed a genuine smile. Tonight she would defy one of Mother’s principal commands: Do not ask a man too many questions, for it implies that you doubt his character.
She would do just that, as well as twist this catechism in a different way. She was going to ask him about being a vampire. She hadn’t yet determined if what he was applied to her opinion of his character, but she was certain His Grace wouldn’t like her prying at his secret. It shall give him a taste of what to expect if he marries me. And if I fail, at least his answers will give me good material for a novel.
When the butler announced that His Grace, the Duke of Burnrath had arrived, Angelica couldn’t stop her pulse from accelerating at the sight of him. He towered over Morrison as he handed over his cape and hat, appearing utterly and completely like the sleek, dangerous creature that she knew him to be. She was suddenly very grateful that he only “liked” her, for if the duke had any deep feelings for her, she knew instinctively that he would never let anything dissuade him from pursuing his desires. A strange sensation of warmth curled through her lower belly at the thought.
“Good evening, Angel.” The vampire bowed low, taking her hand. His glittering silver eyes regarded her as he pressed cool, firm lips to her flesh, making her shiver.
There was a slight flush to his cheeks. Had he dined on someone’s blood recently? She shivered and unconsciously placed a hand on the side of her neck where his fangs had penetrated her flesh.
“Oh, Your Grace, do come in!” Margaret lifted her skirts in a ridiculously elaborate curtsy. “I trust you had a pleasant stroll around the block? Would you like a tour of our home?”
Thankfully, Angelica’s father interrupted Margaret as he entered the drawing room and greeted Ian with jovial but restrained civility. “It is wonderful to see you, Your Grace. I took the liberty of having supper provided before we begin preparing the contract, if that is all right with you.”
When the meal commenced, Angelica suppressed the urge to sink under the table as her mother turned herself inside out in her effort to please the duke. Angelica and Burnrath looked at each other with identical looks of amused embarrassment. She couldn’t hold back a smile as she remembered him laughing with her on his sofa when she told him about her ghost stories. Resolutely she pushed back the memories. It would not at all do to have warm feelings for this man. Vampire or no, he was still a man and as such he represented an end to her freedom.
She decided to begin the first phase of her plan. Mother says: a lady must always eat as daintily as a songbird. Angelica devoured the meager amount of food on her plate, looking up at him in mute challenge, waiting for him to object.