Read Online Angelina by Janet Woods - Free Book Online

admired a pendant in Winchester not long ago. I’m on my way there now. If you like I could point it out to you.”
     George wondered if William had arranged a commission on it with the jeweller, but he couldn’t see how. “That’s uncommonly kind of you, Will.” 
     They both turned towards the door as Rosabelle came back into the room. Crossing to the window seat she picked up the posy, holding it to her nose in a pretty gesture.”I forgot these, My Lord.”  
    She dropped a curtsy, just deep enough to draw his eyes to her wares. Her eyes shone with a mixture of excitement and avarice. She’d been eavesdropping. There was not even the suggestion of a blush as she allowed him to brush a kiss across the back of her hand, though she withdrew it as soon as possible from his caress.
    Rosie was a born harlot, he thought dispassionately. She’d soon learn to welcome his attention.
    * * * *
    Mary Mellor pushed the brick back in the chimney piece and turned to her son. “If
    anything happens to me there’s enough gold to pay for lodgings in London for a while.”
    “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Frey muttered, frowning in concentration as he signed his name at the bottom of the page. Task finished, he put the quill to one side and stoppered his precious supply of ink. “If I get this job I’ll stick it for a year or so. London isn’t cheap. I hope to be able to save enough to give us a good start.”
    “His Lordship would drop a word in the right ear if you’d only let me ask.”  
    An obstinate expression surfaced in Frey’s dark eyes. “His lordship can keep his fine words. I pay my own way from now on.” 
    Mary knew better than to argue with her son. His resemblance to Thomas Wrey was more than just surface. It struck her as ironic that of the earl’s three sons, his bastard should be the one to most resemble him.
    Frey had the dark brooding quality of his father, the same obstinacy. But the earl’s stubbornness grew from an autocratic sense of rightness. Frey had a determination born out of defiance.
    He’d been about ten when he’d first realised that the man who visited them on ocassion was his father. Eventually, his childlish bragging had reached the ears of his half- brother, William.
    At fifteen years of age William hadn’t been far off manhood. His adolescent blood surged hot and turbulent. The thrashing he’d inflicted on Frey had been merciless. Even the earl had paled at the sight of Frey’s bruised and broken body.
    It had been a lesson well learned. Something had died in him that day. Naturally quiet by nature, he’d become almost brooding, displaying no reaction when he learned William had earned a flogging from his father for the deed.
    The earl took it upon himself to point out to Frey what was already apparent to him. His position depended on acceptance of his circumstances.
    Frey came to terms with his position in life that day, and applied himself to the education offered him with a humble acceptance that such a privilege should be afforded him. He’d never given William reason to thrash him again however much he was goaded. But neither had he forgiven him.
    Mary knew the time of reckoning would come. When it did her son would stand up to William Wrey, whatever the consequences. It worried her. She hoped his need for retribution didn’t interfere with their plans to go to London. Another year and they’d have enough money cached to carry them over the lean times. Apart from Rosabelle, only Frey and herself knew of the plans.
    As Frey rose to his feet he automatically bowed his head to avoid the low beam as he made his way to the door.
    “You’re going out?”
    “I want to slip this letter under Cruickshank’s door so he’ll get it first
    thing in the morning. After that I’m off to see the rector for an hour or so. He has some Latin text he wants me to look at.”
    “I was hoping you’d stay home. Rosabelle might be able to visit this afternoon. She’ll be