My Angel (13 page)

"Papa." She stiffened her shoulders and braced herself for her father's anger.

"What are you doing here? Never mind. I already know, but you'll answer my questions when this over. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Papa." She'd never seen him so angry. "But only because I need to explain my actions. I want you to understand.''

"You're leaving," he said, taking her by the arm and leading her out the door. "You're going to the stables right now and you're going to find what looks like the fastest horse and you're getting out of here."

"Yes, Papa," she said.

"Stay in your room until I get back to the hotel. You've a lot to answer for, young lady. As of this morning, I thought you were safe and on your way to
Boston
."

"I know," she agreed. "But, Father, I'm not a child. I can take care of myself and make my own decisions," she said, her voice strong and sure.

He stared at her, a white-hot anger emanating from him. Her heart pounded erratically against her chest. She'd never before disobeyed him this blatantly. His fury with her was understandable, yet her own determination to make her own way stood at the forefront of her mind. She wanted his respect, needed his blessing, but if neither was forthcoming, she'd deal with the consequences.

"Angela?" His voice was filled with heated rage. "What are you up to?" His hands on her shoulders shook, his eyes alight with anger and fear she suddenly understood went beyond all reason. And she knew he held himself in check, that it was all he could do to keep from shaking her until her teeth rattled.

Despite her new resolve, she trembled beneath his scrutiny. "Nothing, Papa. I wanted to help. If Emma's not here, there is no reason for me to stay."

"Damn right!" he said, still watching her with unleashed anger. Angela had never seen that look before, had never pushed him over the edge this way.

The pounding of footsteps on the back stairs and the hushed whispers accompanying them forced Sam to push Angela back into her room and close the door. They waited until the sounds vanished and a door clicked shut farther down the hall. Then Sam cracked the door and peered out.

"It's clear. You go on now. Go down the back way and I'll be in the parlor. I want to find out what has happened to Emma." He handed her the packed valise. "I'll be at the hotel in an hour."

Angela nodded to her father then stepped gingerly down the carpeted hall, trying not to make a sound, and when she was sure her father had left by way of the front stairs, she slipped into the alcove.

Maids hurried back and forth. Two men brought pails of water to Emma's room. She could hear the frantic voice of Madame leBon, raised to a furor.

"Where is the chit? Where's Angela?"

Lawrence
spoke a few words before leaving, and Zeke appeared. Then, through a space between the curtains, she saw Emma pass by, cradled in Devil's arms. Emma's eyes were wide with fear, her skin a sickly white.

Emma was back. Somehow Stevens had found her.

And Devil had played his part. He'd returned Emma for auction. It had been the plan from the beginning, the only way to gather enough evidence to convict Stevens and leBon, and in the process send them to jail for life.

Yet anger swept through Angela. She'd wanted so desperately for Emma to succeed in her escape and Devil had stopped her. He had only been doing his part in this, she reminded herself.

And I have to do my part.

Angela had made a promise to herself, and she could no more leave at this moment than she could stop breathing. The hour for the auction quickly approached. Two of the girls to be placed on the block, appearing eager for the games to start, strutted down the stairs and past the little alcove where she stood watching.

Sounds came from Emma's room.

The hall was empty. Angela rushed back to her room, tossing the valise she carried onto the bed. Then, rummaging through the petticoats and silk dresses, she found the red satin dress she'd worn earlier.

Dropping her valise by her door, a few minutes later she appeared at the threshold of Emma's room, only seconds after Velvet had called for the girl. Emma was in the bath behind a bathing screen and Zeke had just come from Velvet's room, a pitcher of water--no doubt laced with opium--in his hands.

"See that she's dressed and ready. Emma will have her turn on the auction block in about an hour, and I want her to look willing. Do what you have to," she said to Angela.

"Yes, ma'am." Angela nodded, a smile on her face and
deep sorrow in her heart. She ached for Emma and all she'd accomplished only to fail in the end.

Emma rose from the bath. A pale yellow wrapper was placed around her shoulders. The dress she was to wear hung nearby and Angela swallowed hard, imagining what Emma would look like in the sheer gown and imagining how Dakota would feel when he saw her wearing the gauzy confection in front of all who came to watch.

Dakota would be driven to murder. Lawrence Stevens would burn in hell. The strength of both Trey and her father would be needed to hold Dakota back.

~ * ~

Inhaling a deep, ragged breath, Angela stepped behind the bathing screen.

"Everything will be all right." Angela spoke in soothing tones to Emma.

Emma tried to speak. She moistened her lips but only a choked sound could be heard.

"I know you're afraid, but Dakota's downstairs," Angela said. "He won't let anything happen to you. Trust him."

Angela thought she saw Emma's eyes widen with a spark of hope. But she couldn't be sure.

An hour later and with a heavy heart, Angela watched Emma leave the room, a silent prayer in Angela's mind. Emma's future was now in Dakota's hands.

She had done all she could.

In a state of shock Angela stared into the now-empty hallway. Bawdy shouts rose from the ballroom below, and Angela could only guess the noise was due to the auction and the anticipation of Emma's arrival.

Velvet would have made sure the men were aroused to a fever pitch. Emma's dress alone would have caused the excitement to escalate.

Midnight approached, and Angela's father no doubt thought she was safely out of the bordello. Angela strode to her room, only to find the bed occupied. Her valise still sat by the door,
where she'd dropped it an hour ago. Hastily grabbing her belongings, she shut the door and slipped away.

She darted into the alcove, determined to get rid of the skimpy dress and put on her buckskins--even more determined to be tucked into her bed when Sam arrived at the hotel. Unable to help herself, her fragile emotions stretched thin, she laughed. It was nervous laughter, and for a few minutes she collapsed on the couch, her head in her hands and her shoulders trembling with the release of the anxiety she'd felt for the last hour. Torn between her desire to know and love Devil Blackmoor and her loyalty to her family, she had never felt so confused and scared.

If she left now, she might never see Alexi again, might never again feel the gentleness of his touch or taste the sweetness of his kisses. Oh, how she prayed she would see Devil one more time. But she had to leave, now. And, she vowed, she would keep this one promise to her father.

A few minutes later she'd quickly slipped out of the dress and into her breeches and shirt. She was pulling on one of her moccasins when she heard Alexi.

"Angela."

Her prayers had been answered. Once again she laughed, the sound high and thin, her fingers shaking as she tried to put on her other moccasin. Words lodged in her throat and she couldn't answer him. She had to see him one more time.

"Angela, where are you?"

Angela heard the creak of a door nearby and then...

"Excuse me," Alexi said. She heard the amusement in his voice. Then he called out in whispered tones to her. "Angela, if you don't come out this minute before I embarrass myself again, I'll see the same happens to you. I mean it. I will embarrass you until you blush scarlet."

Covering her mouth with her hands, she tried to stifle the nervous laughter she couldn't stop. Then, remembering she meant to leave the house, she bent down to retrieve the other moccasin from the floor. The curtain separated for a second while she struggled with her valise and her balance. Her bare foot slipped through the opening then back.

"Devil...come here," she said, but her breath was ragged
and her voice was slightly husky. She wanted to talk to him, to explain. She regained some of her composure and most of her wits. "Nothing and no one can embarrass me until I turn scarlet. Not even a devil." A restless energy swept through her.

"Is that a challenge?'' His tone held warning.

She could tell from the sound of his voice he stood outside the curtain. "Of course." Angela knew it was. He was hot and speeding in her blood. He sent her nerves sailing wantonly and her heartbeat into a rapid staccato. "Next to riding hard and fast, I like a challenge best,'' she said breathily. Her imagination played havoc with her body. Devil had sought her out. He looked for her.

She wished time would allow her to tease and flirt with him. But she'd promised her father. She had to leave now. Shouts came from below her; loud whistling and wild catcalls followed. Angela cringed, knowing Emma's appearance to be the cause.