“Better now, my dear.” Peter was a snake. He’d always been a snake, and now he was going to move in on Brody’s own girl. But, could Brody play the jealous lover in front of his parents, knowing they expected him to cast her aside? He had to rein in his own emotions, and do what was best for Angelica—showing his hand too soon could ruin their future chances.
While Peter visually undressed the love of Brody’s life, Cynthia slithered over to size up the competition.
“Brody,” she purred. “We have missed you in town. Limehouse just isn’t the same without you.” Her smeared-red lips brushed his cheek, and then she turned to glance at Angelica. “But there have been rumors…”
“Oh, you know how rumors are,” he said, lightly. “The good ones are rarely true.”
Cynthia ignored him, studying Angelica, instead. “And who are you?”
“This is Angelica Grey,” Brody said. “Angelica, Cynthia Cartwright.”
The two women said nothing. Perhaps they both sensed something simmering beneath the surface. He didn’t care a fig for Cynthia—she was his first-cousin, for Christ’s sake—but the girl might be terribly jealous of Peter’s wandering affections, which were momentarily fixed upon Angelica.
Mother swept across the entrance hall, taking Peter by the arm, and drawing him away from the group. She called back over her shoulder, “Mary Rose, I know you and Cynthia have much to catch up on.”
Everyone went in opposite directions, leaving Brody, Marcus, and Angelica alone in the marbled foyer.
Marcus frowned. “Cynthia looks like hell.”
“Too fond of cocaine—unless she’s moved on to more potent stuff.” Brody rested his arm on Angelica’s hips. “I didn’t like the way either of them were looking at you. If Peter comes knocking, tell him to keep off.”
Her dark brow furrowed. “Knocking? Won’t you be…”
“I’ll be there,” he whispered in her ear. “But he can’t know about it.”
“You mean, he can’t know about us.”
“If anyone found me in your bedroom, the consequences would be disastrous. And with Cynthia’s blabber-mouth, the news would spread all over Britain. It’s one thing to carry on in private, but—” He kissed her forehead. “I simply don’t want you to be gossiped about. When the time is right, we’ll reveal ourselves, and no one will have a damned thing to say about it. Until then, we shall have to be discreet.”
Brody frowned at Marcus, who merely shook his head. Neither of them knew what to do about Angelica. For a moment, he swore he caught a glimpse of hopelessness in his elder brother’s eyes. Brody brushed the thought from his mind. They’d find a way to make this relationship work. He would find a way to convince Father to let him keep both his allowance and the woman he loved.
She must have sensed his distress. “I do love you, Brody.”
“I love you, too. And, someday, everyone will know it.” He cleared his throat. “Now, Markie, why don’t we escort Angelica in to luncheon? The others will be down shortly.”
Marcus held out his arm, and slipped Angelica’s hand into the crook of his elbow. She seemed pleased to have two gallants. It had been so long since she’d had anybody to depend on. Brody hoped that—no matter what—she would always have the Neill brothers to love and care for her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Angelica took her usual place at the table—at Captain Neill’s side—but, to her horror, Mr. Lawton claimed the empty chair to her left. She would’ve preferred Marcus, Mary Rose, or even Miss Cartwright, but they each had their own designated seats across the table.
She felt Mr. Lawton’s eyes on her. The man was a lecher, and she was certain he could tell she wasn’t a virgin. He spoke to her like he knew what sort of naughty things she’d been up to. As if Captain Neill’s obvious fondness of her was some sort of challenge. Angelica knew he was going to make a move on her, but she never thought he’d be so bold.
As she quietly ate her stuffed tomato, the man’s knee bumped hers. Angelica ignored it. Another bump, only harder this time. She chose to ignore that one as well. After the third time his knee knocked into hers, Angelica knew it was no mistake. Mr. Lawton was trying to get her attention. Instead of giving him what he wanted, she turned to chat with Captain Neill, who, thankfully, seemed oblivious to it all.
Obscured by the table cloth, the man placed his hand on her thigh. Angelica tried to keep her features blank and her voice even. She gently placed her knife on her plate, and reached beneath the table to swat his hand away. Then, she continued eating. Surely, he got the point by now. She didn’t want anything to do with him or his advances. She only wanted Captain Neill.