The Wicked Game (A Wicked Game Novel) (22 page)

Both Andrew and Angela had contemplated the future but before they had a chance to talk with each other, everything changed. Neither of them knew that everything was out of their hands and so, exactly one month after their miracle Mary was born, the leaders of their new noble family came to call upon the Wilson-Dillards.

***

This couple had never thought they would play such an extensive part in the family of nobility. Angela, a woman who had grown up thinking she would always be nothing more than a wife and had no idea that she would have any say in the future of her own child and Andrew, a servant to nobility, never imagined he would be in the position to determine the fate of the daughter of an Earl.

But now he was an Earl and he was married to the daughter or a Baron and his noble family wanted to know what was planned for the month old baby girl. All Andrew could think was that they were heartless. All Angela could think was that they were crazy. Mary was only four weeks old and to them her life need not be fated yet, but so it seemed they might not have that option.

Andrew had spent several hours that day before persuading the family to forget Mary, persuading the family to wait until Mary was old enough to think for herself but it had done no good and been thought preposterous. No matter what Angela said and no matter what Andrew did, the family would not back down. Andrew could not hold in his emotions any longer and before he even had the warning from himself, his voice burst from his own body and echoed above the crowd.

***

As the first month of her daughter’s life passed by Angela tried desperately to deflect the attempts by family members to emerge Mary into social life. As much as Angela hated the idea of Mary becoming part of society she saw no way to stop it. Andrew could stop it, she was sure, but he hadn’t said or done anything to help the situation so far. He had held her. He had smiled. He had even cried but as of yet Andrew had not said anything to her that would let her know he had a plan, that would let her know he had an idea of what to do.

She had seen him the day Mary was born and she was positive that Andrew had been feeling the same feelings she was, but as family nobility emerged and spilled out their plans for her future, all without Andrew saying a word about
his
idea of her future, Angela became less and less convinced that everything was going to work out.

And then it happened.

Before she realized what was happening a powerful voice pierced through the buzzing of the crowd.

“No. NO!” Andrew’s voice echoed above everyone. “She is
my
daughter.
Our
daughter! And she will not be subjected to such heartlessness!”

Angela connected her eyes with Andrew and she felt a wave of passion sweep through her.

“You have no right to say what she will be, when she will be,
who
she will be! None of us have the right! Not even her mother or me!”

The voice of Lord Abbott broke the silence. “But of course you have the right. She is your daughter! She belongs to you. She belongs to her family. It is your duty to guide her life!”

Andrew looked as if he might absolutely kill the man, but Angela could not take her eyes off of her husband, her beloved husband, and she felt mysterious warmth begin to burn inside of her.

Andrew cleared his throat. “Now you see here; Mary will belong to no one but herself. She will decide when she will marry, who she will marry… or if she will ever do any of these things!”

There was a gasp from the crowd but Andrew was not deterred. “My wife and I both know well enough what it is to have no say in one’s own life. This is a wicked, wicked game that society plays and no child of mine shall ever be forced to play!”

No one spoke. No one moved. Andrew’s passionate voice reverberated through the room like a crash of lightening.

And something began to stir inside of Angela. The warmth inside of her grew stronger until at last it ignited, springing to life that light that had died so long ago, and then, as if she had been struck by a cannon, her walls began to crumble until there was no more. A tear ran down her cheek and she threw her hands to her bursting heart.

The impossible happened.

Angela fell in love with Andrew.

The thoughts of freedom for his child (his daughter!) had always been at the front of his mind since the very moment he learned of her existence. He always knew that if the child was a girl he would protect her in any way possible… what he didn’t know was exactly what that way would be. He had spent months searching inside of himself for the answers only becoming more and more frustrated each day when the answers did not come. And as the day grew closer and closer he had drawn himself away from everyone around him looking desperately for what eluded him.

He had to protect his child. He just had to!

Until the moment of Mary’s birth, that was about the only thing in the world that Andrew knew with certainty. Everything is his life that he had held true before came crashing down before this moment; honor, happiness, assurance… love.

Then, in one miraculous instant, when he looked into his daughter’s beautiful blue eyes, eyes he had given her, everything became clear. In that very instant he knew exactly what to do.

He was so certain that he didn’t know how he had been able to contain himself until now. That, of course, had not been the way he had planned on telling the world that he granted Mary her freedom, but in the end it, as he pondered it in the few minutes that had passed, this way had turned out better.

Sometimes things are better off when they aren’t planned. Unplanned bursts of emotion tend to be more real, raw, and true. As his voice rang out above the crowd he hadn’t even been fully aware of the words he was saying. In fact as he continued on with his emotional tirade, he became more aware of what was happening outside of his body than within. He vaguely remembered hearing a man’s voice retort his statements; Lord Abbott, that vicious beast. And the women in the crowd made uninterruptible noises. Approval maybe? But of course those sounds were followed by reprimands from their husbands. The men were in shock, Andrew even saw one man punch the wall, leaving a crater in both the plaster and blood was pooling down to the floor.

At last his eyes settled on Angela. Still he did not know what he was saying but he began to read the reaction on his wife’s face. There was shock, of course, but it was the other emotions that took him by the heart. He could see something swimming in her that he had not seen since the day he first saw her, standing uncovered in her room in front of the mirror. It was an emotion he had seen growing during those magical nights in the garden, but before he could unlock this mystery the last words spouted forth from his mouth leaving the room in silence but not in stillness. The only one to move, Angela, threw her hands to her heart as if they were the only things keeping it from flying out of her chest.

Her emotion for little Mary was evident and he could tell that she agreed with the words he had spoken. But there was something more in those eyes that he knew so well. There was something in them that spoke to him and as he took in her expression he could read her very thoughts as he had always been able to do.

Andrew understood. The damned woman had finally fallen in love with him.

He could kill her.

***

The whole world was in a cloud. Everything was blurry and overcast. Nothing seemed real. Nothing
was
real; what Andrew had just said, his feelings, her feelings. Especially not her feelings. No. There was absolutely no way in the world that she could be feeling this for him; that she could be feeling…love.

Yet she
was
feeling it. Love. Love!

Thus far in her life Angela had only ever felt love for her two Marys. Her love for little Mary was stronger than anything she had ever experienced in her entire life. She felt warm and cozy every time she saw her and every time she thought about her. The love she had for her daughter filled her with peace and compassion and made every essence of her being thrive. Without her there was no air and no purpose to life. But without Andrew there was no life at all…

This was not the type of love that one feels because of a blood bond. This was not the type of love that one feels for a child. This love, this feeling, was one that burned within her. It lighted her life and made her feel invincible.

And free.

Yes she did feel free! How silly she had been to think that love would shackle her down. This love was anything but. This love was the embodiment of freedom. She could be anything, do anything for herself or her daughter, just as long as she had this in her life.

Just as long as this
was
her life.

All at once she was overcome with the desire to tell Andrew her feelings. She ran to her baby and kissed her upon the forehead.

A tear wetted Mary’s soft cheek as Angela whispered, “Mummy loves daddy. Very, very much.”

Mary cooed and Angela’s chest tightened. How innocent Mary was and how complicated all of this was. She would tell Andrew that she loved him and she prayed that their life would start now. But she knew the reality, she had broken his heart and his feelings for her were hardened. In all of her life she had never actually had a true broken heart but she was able to imagine it. She focused on feeling the exact opposite of the ecstasy of love that she was feeling right now and her body tensed in pain. How would she ever win him back?

She had absolutely no idea but she had a lifetime to figure it out, and if it took that long she would never give up.

***

The wind was howling and hail was crashing down on the window. He could hear every intricate sound, from the light drops of rain that washed over the building to the thundering sounds of the balls of ice as they threatened to shatter the glass. If he hadn’t been so consumed by his own storm of emotions then he might have actually laughed at this ironic situation. Angela had once confided to him about how strangely the weather had mimicked her own emotions the day after he saved her from the Duke, and now here he was in the same situation. Like the glass in the windows of his study, Andrew’s own heart was about to burst. No one person really should be able to handle such a range of feelings all at once. No one person should have to handle such a range of emotion all at once but, as he so often forgot, he was an Earl, and the elite were expected to be invincible.

He fell asleep inside of his study as he so often did in recent days but this time was different. In the past few hours Andrew had been granted everything that a man could ever dream of; not only did he have a beautiful and healthy child but his wife loved him! What a luxury for nobility; what a luxury for any man! And yet, Andrew just wanted to give up. He had loved Angela since he first saw her. No, he hadn’t realized that he loved her at first but it didn’t take him long to realize it, and when he did, he most definitely did not deny it. He embraced his emotions knowing that love, real love, was a blessing and that to pass on it was the truest of evils.

Angela had denied it, though. She had always denied it. Deep within his soul Andrew knew that Angela felt the same way about him that he felt about her. But she was afraid and he had understood…at first. But how dare she be afraid of him! He saved her. He protected her. He literally gave her life and so he let go… for the sake of their daughter, for the sake of the rest of their lives. And now everything was ruined. He had seen that look in her eyes and he knew what it meant. Damn Angela. Damn her! How dare she decide to love him now!

Then there was a light tap at the door and it opened. His angelic Angela was there.

***

She ran from the room soon after Andrew did but it had taken her a long while to actually gather the courage to seek him out. She had spent so long denying him. She had spent so long hurting him. Her words would have to be perfect. Absolute. Convincing and undisputable. But no matter how she mulled it around in her mind, nothing was good enough. Nothing seemed right. What does one say to a spouse that they have rejected for nearly two years? What does one say to a husband who has confessed his love and been denied? What a blow. What a break.

Angela wanted to fix everything, for her daughter, for herself, for her husband… for her family. Right now this was all that mattered to her in the world. Nothing else ever was or ever had been as immediate as this.

She was at a loss. She paced back and forth. No words would come and so at last she just followed through. The words would come, as they often did in such situations. She tapped her knuckles against the harsh wooden door and without waiting to hear a response; she turned the knob and entered as she prayed for the words.

***

So there they stood. Eyes locked. Souls in sync. Hearts in tune. Ears open.

Minds?

Andrew flexed his jaw as if he was about to speak but no words came out and so Angela decided to fill the silence.

“You,” her voice cracked and she had to clear her throat before continuing. She moved closer to her beloved but he stepped back, crossing his arms and closing her off. Angela understood the body language and quivered but continued none the less.

“You spoke the words of my heart. It was as if… as if you saw directly inside of me, right to my very soul, and spoke the words I could not!”

Her husband, her Andrew, was still only staring at her now; his arms still crossed, his lips forced together in an indistinguishable expression.

“It was as if… as if we were one. Just as we should be…”

The words barely escaped her lips but still, Andrew remained unmoved.

She didn’t say another word in hopes that he would respond. She prayed that he would respond, but he said nothing, he did nothing, and at last she could not contain herself. She laid her heart and soul out in front of him, vulnerable to destruction and spoke:

“Oh Andrew! I love you! I fear I have always loved you!” Her voice cracked again and she stopped to wipe water from her face. Through the tears she gasped out a few more words, nearly unrecognizable through the sobs.