“You cannot substitute me for the needle.” She withdrew her breast from his grip, and pulled up the neckline of her night dress. “If you want to be better, you must do it for your own sake. You said you wouldn’t always be there to protect me from men like Peter. Well, I won’t always be here to distract you from your demons. We’re not making love tonight, no matter what your decision is.”
He lay back, smiling. He’d rejected the morphine, and she had rejected lovemaking. For the night, at least, they’d both conquered their greatest weakness. Brody was really quite proud. “Thank you, Angelica. You’ve saved my life yet again.”
“You saved your own life, but I was happy to help.” She nestled herself into his arms.
Brody stroked her hair, and kissed her. “Still no sex, though?”
Angelica laughed against his lips. “Not a chance.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Today was the day of Mary Rose’s party. Just as Angelica had settled into a new routine, suddenly, everything was turned on its head. Additional servants were hired for the occasion. Furniture was moved, and valuables put into storage for the night. Caterers came, bringing chafing dishes, champagne fountains, and crates of additional stemware. Soon, musicians would arrive, adding their practice sessions to the chaos.
Nothing was where it should be. She couldn’t take a step without bumping into someone or some thing. If anyone shouted a warning to her, Angelica doubted she would hear them over the clamor. In the end, she sat on the stairs, too intimidated to risk running the gauntlet down to luncheon.
It didn’t help that the Neill family—save Marcus, of course—treated her like a nuisance. Their mother wouldn’t speak to her, and their father seemed to grunt every time Angelica entered a room. Peter Lawton wisely kept a wide berth, while Cynthia and Mary Rose were too excited for the party to concern themselves with anything so trivial.
Captain Neill brought her a sandwich, and they ate together on the stairs.
“I want you to know that last night was a rare moment of weakness,” he said. “I’m not at risk of relapsing.”
She took a bite, and chewed slowly. “I believe you.”
“But you need to know that…it could happen someday. Just because I’m better, doesn’t mean I’m cured.”
“I understand, Brody. When that time comes, I want you to be honest with me. If you’re struggling, tell me, so we can work through it together. Remember what I promised you that night we thought the Devil was after us—you never again have to face your demons alone.”
He must have smiled. “Bless you, Angelica. You truly are an angel.”
“Tell me, how go the preparations for your sister’s party?” She needed to lighten the mood. The less he thought about his addiction, the better. Perhaps if she could keep his mind on happier things, he wouldn’t worry about it so much.
“Mother is in a fine frenzy. She’s directing everything—flowers here, extra chairs there. Mary Rose has locked herself in her room. I think Cynthia is off walking the dog with Peter, after Mother banished them from the drawing room. Markie is…well, I don’t exactly know where. He disappeared some time after breakfast.”
“And your father?”
“No idea. The old man certainly doesn’t tell me what he’s up to.”
She took another bite of her watercress sandwich. “Has your relationship always been difficult?”
A pause. “Yes, but it’s grown worse since the war. Since the hospitals, and the morphine.”
“I am sorry, Brody. He’s too blinded by your faults to see your better qualities.”
Captain Neill sighed. “I can’t say he hasn’t been generous…that must count for something, surely. He had to have loved me once, but I’m afraid I burned that bridge years ago.”
“He’ll come ‘round—fathers always do.”
“I’m sure your parents were very kind and loving. Sometimes, it sounds like you had the perfect childhood.”
Angelica thought about that for a moment. She’d always assumed that, growing up, everyone’s life was as happy as her own. Now, she realized she had indeed been blessed. “We had our share of problems, but I never doubted my parents’ love.”
“Not even when your mother left you?”
She turned to him. “Mother did not leave me. She went to get help after Father’s death. There was no word from Freddie. We didn’t know what to do or where to turn. She needed to travel northward, and it was easier if I stayed behind.”
“Yet you never heard another word from her?”
“No.”
His hand touched hers. “And that’s never troubled you? You’ve never suspected—”
“Don’t project your own family’s selfish tendencies on mine. What troubles me is the thought that Mother died somewhere far away from anyone who knew her or loved her. That in her last moments, she likely feared more for my well-being than her own. I wish I could go back and tell her somehow that she need not worry about me. I am in good hands.”
“You are, indeed.”
She finished the rest of her sandwich. “Why are you so interested in my family all of a sudden?”
“Oh, simply curious about the people who raised the woman I love.”
What a pity he’d never get to meet them. “They’d have liked you.”
“No, they wouldn’t.”