Read Online Dark Angel by Tracy Grant - Free Book Online
Authors: Tracy Grant
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Regency, Historical Romance, romantic suspense, Women's Fiction, Regency Romance, adult fiction, Historical Mystery, historical romantic suspense, Dark Angel, tasha alexander, lauren willig, vienna waltz, rightfully his, loretta chase, imperial scandal, beneath a silent moon, deanna raybourn, the mask of night, malcom and suzanne rannoch historical mysteries, josephine, cheryl bolen, his spanish bride, liz carlyle, melanie and charles fraiser, m. louisa locke, elizabeth bailey, shadows of the heart, anna wylde, robyn carr, daughter of the game, shores of desire, carol r. carr, teresa grant, the paris affair
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Señor Durward now," but Caroline knew her friend was watching her.
The discussion was ended by Ramon, who poked his head through the doorway and again asked about supper. Adela got out bread and cheese and they had a makeshift meal during which the adults were called upon to answer a number of questions. Hawkins proved surprisingly good at this. Emily had already decided she liked him, and the other children were quickly won over. When the table had been cleared, Hawkins offered to tell them a story, and even Ramon, who an hour ago had claimed he never wanted to hear another story, accepted eagerly.
The baby had woken, hungry and crying. While Adela sat at the table and nursed her child, Caroline finished stacking the dishes. After the events of the day, the quiet should have been a relief, but she felt her decision looming over her.
"Don't be a fool, Caroline," Adela said when Caroline had finished with the dishes. "This is the answer to all your prayers. You can go back to England. You can be safe."
"Would you come with us?" Caroline asked, knowing what her friend's answer would be.
Adela shook her head. The baby stirred and she rocked her against her breast. "This is my home. Mine and Victor's. I see little enough of him, but as long as I'm here there's always the chance that he'll get word to me, or that he'll be able to come home for a few days."
Caroline moved to a chair, arms wrapped defensively round her. "If it's safe for you to stay, then it is for me too."
"No," said Adela firmly. "I am Spanish, you are English. You are twice as much at risk as I, and you know it. Isn't what happened today enough to convince you?"
Caroline was silent. The night was still and cool, no different from any other she had spent in Acquera, save for the quiet murmur of Hawkins's voice and the sight of Adam lying beneath a coarse blanket on the floor. She shifted slightly in her chair, shutting him out of her view. When she had first heard the French soldiers she had thought—to the extent that she had been able to think at all—that she would trust Adam, would trust the devil himself, if he would see Emily to safety.
But that was before Adam had taken her in his arms and she had seen the hunger in his eyes and felt the gentleness of his touch. Before she had felt her own response course through her, sweeping aside all reason. She had known that it was dangerous to trust Adam. What she had learned in those few moments before Laclos and Gazin burst into the cottage was infinitely worse. When Adam was near, she could not trust herself.
"It's more complicated than you think," she said at last.
"Perhaps I understand better than you realize." Adela's gaze was shrewd and perceptive. "I saw your face when he collapsed in the street, Caroline. I always suspected there was someone, someone in England."
At another time, with Adam not lying a dozen feet away, Caroline might have welcomed the opportunity to confide in her friend. Now she merely muttered, "I don't think he's been in England for years."
"He risked a great deal to find you."
"The British Embassy sent him," Caroline said quickly, but even as she spoke she realized it was unlikely that Charles Stuart would have the time to spare much attention for the fate of a lieutenant's widow. Adam must have asked to go. Caroline gripped her hands together, discomfited by the thought.
"It doesn't matter why he came," Adela said. "I don't know what was between you in the past. But I do know it can't be enough to stand in the way of Emily's safety."
Caroline started to protest but the words froze on her lips. She felt as if a net was closing about her, driving her toward a future she feared for reasons that had nothing to do with the dangers of the journey. Her throat tightened with panic. All her instincts told her to struggle, but how could she struggle against her own conscience?
"There's Jared to think of, too," Adela said.
"Jared?" Caroline asked in puzzlement.
The baby gave a
The discussion was ended by Ramon, who poked his head through the doorway and again asked about supper. Adela got out bread and cheese and they had a makeshift meal during which the adults were called upon to answer a number of questions. Hawkins proved surprisingly good at this. Emily had already decided she liked him, and the other children were quickly won over. When the table had been cleared, Hawkins offered to tell them a story, and even Ramon, who an hour ago had claimed he never wanted to hear another story, accepted eagerly.
The baby had woken, hungry and crying. While Adela sat at the table and nursed her child, Caroline finished stacking the dishes. After the events of the day, the quiet should have been a relief, but she felt her decision looming over her.
"Don't be a fool, Caroline," Adela said when Caroline had finished with the dishes. "This is the answer to all your prayers. You can go back to England. You can be safe."
"Would you come with us?" Caroline asked, knowing what her friend's answer would be.
Adela shook her head. The baby stirred and she rocked her against her breast. "This is my home. Mine and Victor's. I see little enough of him, but as long as I'm here there's always the chance that he'll get word to me, or that he'll be able to come home for a few days."
Caroline moved to a chair, arms wrapped defensively round her. "If it's safe for you to stay, then it is for me too."
"No," said Adela firmly. "I am Spanish, you are English. You are twice as much at risk as I, and you know it. Isn't what happened today enough to convince you?"
Caroline was silent. The night was still and cool, no different from any other she had spent in Acquera, save for the quiet murmur of Hawkins's voice and the sight of Adam lying beneath a coarse blanket on the floor. She shifted slightly in her chair, shutting him out of her view. When she had first heard the French soldiers she had thought—to the extent that she had been able to think at all—that she would trust Adam, would trust the devil himself, if he would see Emily to safety.
But that was before Adam had taken her in his arms and she had seen the hunger in his eyes and felt the gentleness of his touch. Before she had felt her own response course through her, sweeping aside all reason. She had known that it was dangerous to trust Adam. What she had learned in those few moments before Laclos and Gazin burst into the cottage was infinitely worse. When Adam was near, she could not trust herself.
"It's more complicated than you think," she said at last.
"Perhaps I understand better than you realize." Adela's gaze was shrewd and perceptive. "I saw your face when he collapsed in the street, Caroline. I always suspected there was someone, someone in England."
At another time, with Adam not lying a dozen feet away, Caroline might have welcomed the opportunity to confide in her friend. Now she merely muttered, "I don't think he's been in England for years."
"He risked a great deal to find you."
"The British Embassy sent him," Caroline said quickly, but even as she spoke she realized it was unlikely that Charles Stuart would have the time to spare much attention for the fate of a lieutenant's widow. Adam must have asked to go. Caroline gripped her hands together, discomfited by the thought.
"It doesn't matter why he came," Adela said. "I don't know what was between you in the past. But I do know it can't be enough to stand in the way of Emily's safety."
Caroline started to protest but the words froze on her lips. She felt as if a net was closing about her, driving her toward a future she feared for reasons that had nothing to do with the dangers of the journey. Her throat tightened with panic. All her instincts told her to struggle, but how could she struggle against her own conscience?
"There's Jared to think of, too," Adela said.
"Jared?" Caroline asked in puzzlement.
The baby gave a
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