Velvet Angel Read online

  As if reading her thoughts, Miles lifted Elizabeth’s hand, placed it on his cheek. She let it rest there for a moment, her heart pounding. It was as if she were doing something forbidden. After a very long moment, she moved her hand to touch his hair. It was soft and clean and she wondered how it smelled.

  Her eyes went back to Miles’s and she sensed that he was going to kiss her. Pull away, she thought, but she didn’t move.

  Slowly, his eyes telling her she could refuse him, he drew near her and when his lips touched hers, she kept her eyes open. What a pleasant feeling, she thought.

  He just touched her lips with his and held them there, not forcing her mouth open, not grabbing her and throwing his weight onto her as other men had done, but just the light, highly pleasant kiss.

  He was the first to pull away and there was a light of such warmth in his eyes that she began to stiffen. Now would come the pouncing.

  “Hush,” he soothed, his hand on her cheek. “No one is going to hurt you ever again, my Elizabeth.”

  “Papa!” Kit yelled and the spell was broken.

  “No doubt he’s spotted a unicorn this time,” Miles said under his breath as he reluctantly rose. His jest was rewarded by the hint of a smile from Elizabeth.

  Rising, Elizabeth winced at an ache in her shoulder. She wasn’t used to sleeping on the ground.

  Acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Miles began to knead Elizabeth’s shoulders. “What have you found now, Kit?” he called above her head.

  “A path,” Kit yelled back. “Can I follow it?”

  “Not until we get there. Better?” he asked Elizabeth, and when she nodded he kissed her neck and quickly began to gather their few belongings.

  “Are you always so free with women?” she asked and there was curiosity in her voice. “When you visit someone’s house do you freely kiss all the women?”

  Miles didn’t pause in burying the dead coals of last night’s fire. “I can be civilized, I assure you, and usually I limit my kissing to hands—at least in public.” He looked back at her, smiling, eyes sparkling. “But with you, my lovely Elizabeth, from our first…ah, meeting, nothing has been done in the usual manner. I can’t help but feel that you were a gift to me, a very precious gift, but, nonetheless, something that is mine to keep.”

  Before she could answer—and, in truth, she was too stunned to answer—he caught her hand and began pulling her to where Kit glared at them impatiently. “Let’s go and see where this path takes us.”

  Miles held her hand as Kit led them down the narrow, long-disused path. “What do you think of my son?”

  Elizabeth smiled at the boy who was poking at a mushroom on the ground. As she watched, he straightened and began running ahead of them. “He’s very independent, intelligent and quite adult for his age. You must be very proud of him.”

  Miles’s chest swelled visibly. “I have two more at home. Philip Stephen is as exotic-looking as his mother, with a temper that sets his nurse trembling, and he’s only a year old.”

  “And your other boy? Bridget’s son?”

  “James Raine is exactly opposite of Philip and the two of them are together constantly. I have a feeling it may always be that way. James gives Philip his toys when Philip demands them.” He chuckled. “The only thing James will share with no one is his nurse. He screams even if I touch her.”

  “He must do a great deal of screaming,” Elizabeth said sarcastically.

  “James is silent practically always,” Miles said, laughing. He leaned closer to her. “But then he does go to bed quite early.”

  She pushed him away playfully.

  “Papa,” Kit yelled, running to them. “Come and look. It’s part of a house but it burned down.”

  Around the bend was what was left of a burned crofter’s cottage, most of the roof collapsed, only one corner standing.

  “No, Kit,” Miles said when his son started to enter the ruin. Heavy, charred beams slanted from the one standing wall to the ground. “Let me test it first.”

  Elizabeth and Kit stood together while Miles grabbed one beam after another and swung his weight on it. A few bits of dirt came falling down but the beams held.

  “It seems safe enough,” Miles said as Kit ran inside the structure and began looking into crevices.

  Miles took Elizabeth’s arm. “Let’s walk up the hill because, if I’m not mistaken, I think those are apple trees.”

  There was a small orchard on top of the hill and most of the trees were dead, but there were about a dozen scrawny, nearly ripe apples hanging from some of the branches. As Elizabeth reached for one of them, Miles’s arm slid about her waist and lifted her. She caught the apple and he slowly lowered her, the front of her body sliding down his. His lips had just reached hers when Kit called out.

  “Look what I found, Papa.”

  Elizabeth turned away to smile at Kit. “What is it?”

  With a dramatic sigh, Miles set Elizabeth down.

  “It’s a swing!” Kit yelled.

  “So it is,” Miles said, holding Elizabeth’s hand. He grabbed the ropes of the swing and gave them a couple of sharp jerks. “Let me see how high you can go,” he said to his son.

  Elizabeth and Miles stood back as Kit took over the swing, using it in an aggressive way to propel himself upward until his feet touched a tree branch.

  “He’ll hurt himself,” Elizabeth said, but Miles caught her arm.

  “Now show Elizabeth what you can do.”

  She gasped as Kit, still swinging very high, pulled his legs up and stood in the swing.

  “Now!” Miles commanded, his arms open wide.

  To Elizabeth’s disbelief, Kit sent his small body flying through the air and into Miles’s arms. As Kit screamed with delight, Elizabeth felt her knees weaken.

  Miles put his son down and caught her arm. “Elizabeth, what’s wrong? It was only a child’s game. When I was Kit’s age, I used to jump into my father’s arms in just the same way.”

  “But if you stepped away…” she began.

  “Stepped away!” He was aghast. “And let Kit fall?” He pulled her into his arms, soothing her. “Did no one play with you as a child?” he asked quietly.

  “My parents died soon after I was born. Edmund was my guardian.”

  That simple statement said a great deal to Miles. He pulled her away to look at her. “Now we shall make up for your lack of a childhood. Get in the swing and I’ll push you.”

  She was glad to put away her memories of Edmund and she went readily to the swing.

  “I will, Papa,” Kit said, pushing the wooden bottom of the swing and not making much progress. “She’s too heavy,” Kit whispered loudly.

  “Not for me.” Miles laughed, kissed Elizabeth’s ear and took the ropes. “Wipe it away, Elizabeth,” he said as he pulled her far back off the ground.

  “I can’t now, but I will,” she tossed over her shoulder.

  Miles released her and she went flying. Every time she returned, he gave her a push on her bottom instead of the swing’s and all Elizabeth did was laugh. Her skirt went up to her knees, she kicked off her shoes and stretched her legs out.

  “Jump, Elizabeth!” Kit commanded.

  “I’m too heavy, remember?” she teased, laughing.

  Miles stood to the side of her. The more time he spent with her, the more beautiful she grew. Her head was back and she was laughing as he’d never seen her laugh before.

  “Papa can catch you,” Kit persisted.

  “Yes, Papa is more than willing to catch the Lady Elizabeth.” Miles grinned, standing before her. He saw a look of doubt cross her face. “Trust me, Elizabeth.” He was smiling but was deadly earnest at the same time. “I won’t step aside; I’ll catch you no matter how hard you fall.”

  Elizabeth didn’t play Kit’s trick of standing in the swing, but she did release the ropes and go flying headlong into Miles’s arms. When she hit him, the breath was almost knocked from her.