Read Online Angel's Devil by Suzanne Enoch - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Enoch
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distracted. "Perhaps you can ride him some day."
She turned her
head to look up at him. "You don't own him yet," she pointed out.
"I
will."
"That is
the greatest piece of nonsense I have yet heard this Season," she said
with a grin.
James chuckled.
"And what might the second greatest piece of nonsense be, my future
cousin?" he murmured, raising an eyebrow.
"Anything
Percival Alcott says," she returned promptly. James put a hand to his
heart. "I don't know whether to be flattered or offended by my place in
the ranking."
,"My
lord?' Henry queried from his other side. Angelique wrinkled her nose.
"You're correct. Percival Alcott is a much greater piece of nonsense. I
apologize."
"My
lord," Henry protested, pulling on his sleeve, "they're
bidding!"
James shook
himself and turned around. With a grin he, handed the rolled information sheet
over to Henry. "Wave this in the air when I tell you," he instructed.
"Yes,
sir!"
The auctioneer
called out a hundred pounds, already a steep price, and he nodded. Henry
obediently waved the paper in the air, and James raised a hand.
"One
hundred to the Marquis of Abbonley," the auctioneer droned. "Do I
hear one twenty-five?"
"One
twenty-five," came from across the paddock. "Uh-oh," Angel
muttered. "The fifth Earl of Branford wants your hunter."
"Well, he
can't have him," James returned, and nodded at Henry.
"One
hundred fifty to the Marquis of Abbonley. Do I hear one hundred
seventy-five?"
"Two
hundred," Branford bellowed.
"Three,"
James murmured before the anctioneer could repeat the amount.
Henry craned
himself up to his full height. "Three hundred!" he shouted.
The crowd
quieted to an expectant murmur. "Three hundred fifty," the earl
called out, eyeing James with some hostility.
"Four,"
James returned, and Henry seconded it at greater volume.
"That's
quite high, don't you think?" Angel murmured, her sleeve brushing against
his.
"I want
him," James responded softly.
"You want
him, or you don't want Branford to have him?" she returned.
He glanced over
at her. "It's the same thing."
"My lord
marquis, the bidding stands at four hundred fifty pounds," the auctioneer
informed him. "Do you have another bid?"
He nodded.
"Let's get this over with. Henry? One thousand pounds."
Henry grinned.
"One thousand pounds!" he yelled into the silence.
The auctioneer
was stunned enough that he delayed a moment before responding. "One
thousand pounds from the Marquis of Abbonley. Are there any other bids?"
Branford glared
at James for a moment, then shook his head. "You can have the nag,"
he called, and turned away:
"Thank
you," James returned, and as the auctioneer slammed his mallet onto the
crate in front of him the crowd exploded into cheers and applause.
"Sold, Pharaoh, to the Marquis of Abbonley, for one thousand
pounds." The auctioneer sketched a deep bow. "Thank you, my lord."
James grinned
and raised his hat. "I'd best go pay for my nag."
"Can we
go?" Henry asked, jumping down from the fence.
"All
right," Niston sighed, and lifted Helen to the ground. "One thousand
pounds?" Angel repeated, falling into step beside James.
He smiled and leaned closer. Other members of the ton had noted
his companion and were muttering among themselves. The engagement might be a
secret, but everyone knew Simon Talbott was courting Angel Graham. It was an
annoyance, but his name could take the additional scuffing Simon had
envisioned. He did wonder, though, if his cousin had realized that Lady
Angelique's reputation might be at risk. "Haven't I told you I'm
fabulously wealthy?"
She grinned at
him. "Not for long, if you keep this up."
"Would you
rather I spent it on you?"
Angelique
glanced over at her father and the twins. "I haven't asked you for
anything, my lord," she replied, lifting her chin.
"Why don't you?" he challenged. "Ask me for anything."
He was abruptly surprised to realize he would happily grant any request she
might have. "A wedding present, perhaps? Might I recommend real
She turned her
head to look up at him. "You don't own him yet," she pointed out.
"I
will."
"That is
the greatest piece of nonsense I have yet heard this Season," she said
with a grin.
James chuckled.
"And what might the second greatest piece of nonsense be, my future
cousin?" he murmured, raising an eyebrow.
"Anything
Percival Alcott says," she returned promptly. James put a hand to his
heart. "I don't know whether to be flattered or offended by my place in
the ranking."
,"My
lord?' Henry queried from his other side. Angelique wrinkled her nose.
"You're correct. Percival Alcott is a much greater piece of nonsense. I
apologize."
"My
lord," Henry protested, pulling on his sleeve, "they're
bidding!"
James shook
himself and turned around. With a grin he, handed the rolled information sheet
over to Henry. "Wave this in the air when I tell you," he instructed.
"Yes,
sir!"
The auctioneer
called out a hundred pounds, already a steep price, and he nodded. Henry
obediently waved the paper in the air, and James raised a hand.
"One
hundred to the Marquis of Abbonley," the auctioneer droned. "Do I
hear one twenty-five?"
"One
twenty-five," came from across the paddock. "Uh-oh," Angel
muttered. "The fifth Earl of Branford wants your hunter."
"Well, he
can't have him," James returned, and nodded at Henry.
"One
hundred fifty to the Marquis of Abbonley. Do I hear one hundred
seventy-five?"
"Two
hundred," Branford bellowed.
"Three,"
James murmured before the anctioneer could repeat the amount.
Henry craned
himself up to his full height. "Three hundred!" he shouted.
The crowd
quieted to an expectant murmur. "Three hundred fifty," the earl
called out, eyeing James with some hostility.
"Four,"
James returned, and Henry seconded it at greater volume.
"That's
quite high, don't you think?" Angel murmured, her sleeve brushing against
his.
"I want
him," James responded softly.
"You want
him, or you don't want Branford to have him?" she returned.
He glanced over
at her. "It's the same thing."
"My lord
marquis, the bidding stands at four hundred fifty pounds," the auctioneer
informed him. "Do you have another bid?"
He nodded.
"Let's get this over with. Henry? One thousand pounds."
Henry grinned.
"One thousand pounds!" he yelled into the silence.
The auctioneer
was stunned enough that he delayed a moment before responding. "One
thousand pounds from the Marquis of Abbonley. Are there any other bids?"
Branford glared
at James for a moment, then shook his head. "You can have the nag,"
he called, and turned away:
"Thank
you," James returned, and as the auctioneer slammed his mallet onto the
crate in front of him the crowd exploded into cheers and applause.
"Sold, Pharaoh, to the Marquis of Abbonley, for one thousand
pounds." The auctioneer sketched a deep bow. "Thank you, my lord."
James grinned
and raised his hat. "I'd best go pay for my nag."
"Can we
go?" Henry asked, jumping down from the fence.
"All
right," Niston sighed, and lifted Helen to the ground. "One thousand
pounds?" Angel repeated, falling into step beside James.
He smiled and leaned closer. Other members of the ton had noted
his companion and were muttering among themselves. The engagement might be a
secret, but everyone knew Simon Talbott was courting Angel Graham. It was an
annoyance, but his name could take the additional scuffing Simon had
envisioned. He did wonder, though, if his cousin had realized that Lady
Angelique's reputation might be at risk. "Haven't I told you I'm
fabulously wealthy?"
She grinned at
him. "Not for long, if you keep this up."
"Would you
rather I spent it on you?"
Angelique
glanced over at her father and the twins. "I haven't asked you for
anything, my lord," she replied, lifting her chin.
"Why don't you?" he challenged. "Ask me for anything."
He was abruptly surprised to realize he would happily grant any request she
might have. "A wedding present, perhaps? Might I recommend real
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