Beneath Passion's Skies

by Bobbi Smith

Genres: Historical Romance; Romantic Suspense; Western Romance

Synopsis

In Capture My Heart, Desert Heart and Kiss Me Forever, Bobbi Smith caprivated readers everywhere with her sizzling blend of rapturous passion, thrilling adventure and heartstirring romance. Peopled with the unforgettable characters only she can create, her stories celebrate the joy and excitement of love at its most passionate. And now here is her most sensual romantic tale yet... Beneath Passion's Skies Desperate to escape the clutches of her brutal brother-in-law, headstrong Angel Windsor kidnapped her young nephew and fled Philadelphia. But an even more dangerous destiny awaited the emerald-eyed innocent in New Orleans when she hired a notorious half-breed gunfighter to lead her west to California—and safety. Raised among the white men, Blade Masters had taken to the gun to avenge a terrible wrong...and he had no intention of providing escort service for one brazen blond beauty. But that was before his lips met hers in a soul-searing kiss that left the hard-hearted loner burning for more. Vowing to sample more of her sensuous charms, Blade guided her deeper into the sultry heat of the western wilderness, where blistering passion soon gave way to rapturous nights of love beneath star-spangled skies. And that was when Blade knew that he would go to the ends of the earth to protect and possess his elusive angel—sweetly, tenderly and forever.

Release date: April 1, 1993

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 445

Sample

“Oh, Michael . . .” Celia Maguire sighed. “You’re wonderful.”

“And so are you, my dear.” Michael Marsden smiled down at the dark-haired, dark-eyed young beauty lying naked beneath him. It wasn’t a smile of affection that curved his handsome mouth, though, but one of immense self-satisfaction. Michael never ceased to be amazed at how naive and stupid women were and how easily they fell prey to his calculated advances. This seventeen-year-old maid from the Windsor household had come to him like a ripe plum, tumbling into his bed with an eager willingness that had surprised even him. He had never guessed he would meet with such unhampered success, but he wasn’t about to complain. His plan was progressing at a rate he hadn’t dreamed possible—and with very little effort. Soon.... very soon, he would win that which he sought and claim the ultimate prize.

Celia believed Michael truly desired her for herself, and she gazed up at him adoringly. Michael Marsden was the most attractive man she’d ever seen. Desire blossomed anew within her as she studied his classically perfect features, blue eyes, and blond hair. He was so rich and so powerful! Her heartbeat quickened, and she shivered with the knowledge that she was here in his arms. Being a lowly servant far removed from his social circle, Celia didn’t know what she’d done to merit his attentions, but she wasn’t about to question her good fortune. The moment was too perfect. Wanting to make love with him again before she had to leave, she moved sinuously against him.

“You’re an eager little thing,” Michael remarked with a chuckle. He responded to her enticing movements by caressing her ample curves.

“Only for you,” she whispered breathlessly.

Michael silenced her declarations of devotion with a harsh kiss. He felt no emotion for Celia, and he despised the fact that she was trying to romanticize what was a purely physical act for him. It suited his purpose to have her, so he took her. She was a means to an end, nothing more.

They coupled in heated silence, the quiet broken only by their ragged breathing and by Celia’s cry of final ecstasy as she attained her pleasure. The act finished, Michael moved away from her clinging presence.

“Dawn is nearly upon us, sweet,” he told her in a tone he hoped conveyed regret.

“I know. I have to go,” she sighed. “I can’t afford to be late.”

“Even now that Windsor’s dead?”

“It’s worse now. His older spinster-sister, Blanche, has moved in and taken over. She gave Mrs. Delaney, the housekeeper, a free hand with us, and there’ll be hell to pay if I’m not there on time.” Celia pressed one last kiss on his lips and then rose from the bed. She was very conscious of Michael’s eyes on her as she began to dress, and she longed to climb back into the wide, comfortable bed with him and forget the dull drudgery of her life. “Things are really different with the old man gone.”

“Why?” Michael asked, taking care not to show how pleased he was that she was finally talking about her employer. He’d been waiting all night for a chance to bring up the subject of the Windsor family, and now she had done it for him.

“Well, they had the reading of the will yesterday afternoon ...”

“Oh?” Michael pretended ignorance of the matter, while in truth he was very much aware of it. It had been for that reason, and that reason alone, that he’d brought Celia to his bed last night. Household servants always knew the details of what was going on in their employers’ lives, and he hoped to glean some important information from her.

“Yes, Mr. Windsor left each of his daughters very well off, of course, but there was a real interesting clause in the will.”

“There was? You mean he didn’t divide everything equally?” Michael had to force himself not to sound eager.

“No. Mr. Windsor had always wanted a son, and, evidently, he was still so upset about never having had one that he put a clause in the will that leaves the bulk of his business interests to his first-born grandson.”

“He what?” Michael was astounded. This was almost too good to be true!

Celia mistook his excitement for disbelief. “It’s crazy. His business associates are in control until the boy turns ten, then he’ll inherit everything. It’s strange, isn’t it? What if his daughters never have a son?”

“It’s very strange,” Michael agreed, but he couldn’t have been more delighted. A sense of euphoria gripped him. His family had a history of siring only males. There hadn’t been a female Marsden born for three generations.

“Mary, the other kitchen maid, and me were wondering which of the girls would get married first to try to claim the money. Seems it’s not much of a contest, though, since Elizabeth is eighteen and the other two, Sarah and Angela, are only eleven and nine. Of course, the oldest one might have only daughters and that would give the other two a chance. We were laughing about that when Mrs. Delaney walked in and caught us.” Celia grimaced as she remembered their run-in with the formidable, white-haired battle-ax. “Mrs. Delaney said we were crude to think that everyone else was as greedy as we were. She said the Windsor girls love each other and that the money doesn’t matter to them.”

“She’s probably right,” Michael said thoughtfully. Everything he’d learned about the three daughters since coming to Philadelphia earlier that month seemed to indicate that the housekeeper’s assessment was true.

“Well, if that’s true, then they’re stupid. If I were one of them, I’d be marrying a man today and bedding him tonight just to get my hands on the rest of that money ten years down the road!” she announced as she pulled on her dress and fastened the buttons.

As Celia spoke, Michael saw the gleam of jealousy and avarice in her eyes, and he knew he’d have to be careful how he handled her once he put his plan into action. Rising from the bed, he went to take her in his arms. She’d just given him the bit of information he’d been hoping for, and he was not ungrateful. He kissed her.

“Will I see you again?” Celia asked anxiously.

“Of course. I’ll send for you,” he promised.

Celia left him then, slipping from his room at the fancy hotel without anyone taking notice. She felt as if she were walking on air as she headed back to her job at the Windsor mansion. Michael Marsden desired her and he wanted to see her again! Fantasies of her new lover filled her head, and she wondered how soon he would send for her. She hoped it would be that very next night.

Celia would have been devastated had she known that Michael never gave her another thought after she’d gone. As soon as he’d closed the door behind her, Michael began planning his seduction of and wedding to another woman—Elizabeth Windsor. He would turn on all his charm and claim the oldest heiress for his own. He’d heard she was a quiet girl, and if that proved to be true, he was certain she would be no match for his ardent courtship. She would be his.

Michael gave a triumphant laugh as he vowed to himself to marry the wench in less than six months time. He would have preferred a quicker trip to the altar, but he knew there would be resistance because of her state of mourning. Anxious though he was, it didn’t pay to flaunt every rule of society. He would console Elizabeth, and he would offer her a strong shoulder to lean on in this, her time of need. By the time he proposed, she’d be so smitten, she’d never even think of saying ‘no.’

Ignoring the triviality of getting her with child, Michael mused on his goal of taking control of the Windsor inheritance. It didn’t even occur to him that Elizabeth might not give birth to a boy. He wanted one; therefore, she would have one. The fortune would be his.

Four months later at the Windsor home

“Do you really think it’s all right, Aunt Blanche?” blonde-haired, brown-eyed Elizabeth Windsor asked her aunt as the maid helped her don the dark blue satin gown. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, but her expression was a bit worried as she awaited her aunt’s answer. Tonight was the night she’d been longing for! In just a few moments, Michael Marsden would be coming for her to escort her to the Utter-sons’ ball. Elizabeth wanted desperately to attend with the handsome, dashing Marsden who’d been so kind and attentive since her father’s death, but it had been only four months since the funeral, and she feared gossip would result.

“Of course, it’s all right, Elizabeth,” the gray-haired, bird-like spinster responded from where she perched on the edge of her oldest niece’s bed. Though initially she’d hesitated at the thought of Elizabeth going to a social gathering so soon, Michael had completely won her over. Charmer that he was, Blanche had been completely powerless before the force of his personality. She had given in to his wishes like a willow bending before a hurricane wind. “Michael’s a perfect gentleman. He would never compromise you in any way.”

“You’re right, of course,” Elizabeth agreed, thoughts of the debonair young man bringing a smile to her lovely features. She was a pretty young woman, but growing up knowing that her father had wanted a son had rendered her less than sure of her own self-worth. She found being the center of Michael’s attentions dazzling and flattering.

“There’s no need to worry about anyone talking about you. If they do, it will be because they’re envious,” Blanche confided, thinking how lucky her niece was to be going out with Marsden. Though Michael was relatively new in town, it was well-known that he was very successful. Why, the suite of rooms he’d taken at one of the best hotels in town was costing him a small fortune. He gained entree wherever he went and was seen only with the most influential members of Philadelphia society. He was a man with class and breeding, and he would make an excellent husband for Elizabeth. Blanche only hoped things progressed in that direction.

“Thank you.” Elizabeth gave her elderly guardian a hug. “Do you think this gown is appropriate?” she asked as she smoothed the demure, full-skirted dress.

“Yes, darling, it’s just the thing. Since this is your first outing since the funeral, it’s best to keep—”

Their conversation was interrupted as eleven-year-old Sarah, the middle sister, came running into the room. A little bit heavy for her age, she was of average height, with medium brown hair and brown eyes. Yet, while there was nothing extraordinary about her physical appearance, she exuded an inner happiness that no one could ignore. Sarah always looked for the good in everyone and always credited them with the best of intentions. She was a delight to be around, and everyone who knew her loved her.

“He’s here! Michael’s here!” Sarah announced, her dark eyes aglow. She thought Michael Marsden the most wonderful man in the whole wide world, and she was as thrilled by Elizabeth’s date with him as Elizabeth was. “His carriage just pulled up!”

“Oh, good.” Michael had arrived! Elizabeth paused only long enough to give her sister a quick kiss on the cheek, then hurried for the door. She couldn’t wait for him to see her dressed up. In the months he’d been coming to call, she’d had to wear mourning clothes, but tonight would be different. At last, she could dress for him as a woman should. She wanted to please him, to win his heart as he had already won hers. Elizabeth hoped tonight would be the beginning of a true and real courtship for them.

Michael was more than pleased with himself as he mounted the front steps to the palatial Windsor home. Since that day, months ago, when he’d made his first call to the family to pay his respects, he’d been resolute in bestowing his attentions on the young, impressionable Elizabeth. Tonight he would reap the rewards of his efforts.

Michael was glad that he’d managed to overcome senile Aunt Blanche’s initial objections to her niece’s appearing in public so soon. It had annoyed him to have to play the fool to the doddering, old woman but he’d done it. With flattery and pure force of will, he’d won her over. Elizabeth would attend the ball with him.

Elizabeth. A fleeting image of her crossed his mind as he raised the solid brass doorknocker and let it fall. She was a passably pretty girl, and she was certainly malleable enough. In fact, the truth be known, she was much too eager to please him for his own tastes. He liked more sophisticated women, women who knew how to play love’s games. The promise of all that Windsor money, however, kept his interest in the virginal heiress very much alive. After they’d married and she’d borne him the required son, he would return to indulging his own jaded desires. Until then, he would bide his time and do whatever was necessary to achieve his goal. Michael’s musings were interrupted as Robert, the Windsor’s butler, opened the door.

“Good evening, Mr. Marsden. Come in,” the tall, distinguished, gray-haired servant greeted him warmly as he held the door wide.

“Good evening, Robert,” he returned as he stepped into the spacious marble-tiled, two-story foyer.

“If you’ll make yourself comfortable in the parlor, sir, I’ll inform Miss Elizabeth that you’ve arrived.”

“Thank you.” Michael moved with familiar ease into the parlor. He smiled to himself with confidence as he settled in on the sofa to await Elizabeth’s entrance.

“Hello, Michael.” Elizabeth spoke as she appeared in the doorway.

“Elizabeth.” With all the gallantry of an ardent suitor, he came to his feet and crossed the room to take her hand as she moved forward. “You look lovely.” Raising her hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss upon it.

Elizabeth nearly swooned at his display. Before her father’s death she’d been courted by a few young men, but none had had the intensity of Michael. She lifted her gaze to his and was spellbound by the heated look in his blue eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat.

Blanche and Sarah joined them then, shattering the spell Michael had been weaving around her.

“Good evening, ladies.” He charmed them both with a wide smile.

Blanche returned his smile with a flustered one of her own and Sarah blushed prettily.

“It’s good to see you again, Michael. I trust you’ll take good care of my niece tonight?”

“Have no doubts, Miss Windsor. No harm will ever come to Elizabeth as long as she’s with me,” he vowed in all honesty. He couldn’t afford to let anything happen to her. “Shall we go?”

“Yes, I’m quite ready. All I need is my wrap.”

Robert appeared with the necessary garment, and Michael took it from him and slipped it around her shoulders. Elizabeth couldn’t suppress the excitement that shivered through her at his touch. They bid everyone good night, and Blanche and Sarah watched from the doorway as the couple climbed into the carriage and drove away. It was only after they turned back inside that they noticed nine-year-old Angela, nicknamed Angel because of her angelic appearance with her pale gold hair and perfect features, standing by herself watching them from the far end of the hall.

“Angel? What’s the matter?” Sarah asked, realizing for the first time that she hadn’t come to see Elizabeth leave on her date. “Why didn’t you come see Elizabeth in her new dress? She looked so pretty!”

Angel was generally a happy child, always ready for fun and excitement, but tonight as she came forward for the first time, she was frowning darkly and her green eyes, usually sparkling with merriment and mischief, were stormy with turbulent emotion.

“I didn’t come out, because I don’t like Michael Marsden. I didn’t want to be around him,” Angel declared belligerently. In the way of young children, she didn’t know why she despised her sister’s suitor, she just knew that she did.

“You don’t like Michael?” Sarah repeated, staring at her aghast. Michael was handsome and rich. She could find no flaw in his character for he had been nothing but kind to them from his very first visit.

“Angel, I can’t believe you said that,” Blanche agreed, distressed by the child’s reaction. “Michael is considerate and thoughtful, and he obviously cares a great deal for Elizabeth.”

“I don’t care. I don’t like him, and I don’t trust him,” Angel persisted, a stubborn tilt to her chin.

“But why?” Sarah pressed, knowing it was unusual for her little sister to be so outspoken in her dislike of someone.

“I don’t know why. There’s just something about him. He’s not nice, and I don’t like the way he looks at Elizabeth.” At nine, there was no way Angel could put into words the feelings she had about Michael. She only knew that she saw a strange hunger in his gaze and sometimes a shadow of meanness there, too. She wanted to stay as far away from him as she could.

“Michael looks at your sister that way because he finds her attractive,” Blanche lectured. “It could be he’s falling in love with her, and I can’t think of anything that would please me more.”

“But—” The thought of his marrying her sister frightened Angel. She loved Elizabeth. Elizabeth had raised her since their mother died six years ago, and she didn’t want to see her big sister hurt by a man she instinctively knew wasn’t what he appeared to be.

“Hush, now. I’ll hear no more disparaging things about him.” Blanche defended the man she thought to be perfect. “You see to it that you behave when he’s around.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Angel replied, realizing it was useless to argue. Chastened, but not convinced, she disappeared upstairs to her room without another word.

The evening passed in what seemed the blink of an eye to Elizabeth. She had never had such a wonderful time. With Michael by her side, she felt beautiful. He was attentive to her every need, anticipating her desires even before she knew what they might be. When they danced, the feel of his strong arms about her made her feel feminine and cherished. She was in heaven. If there were whispers of disapproval over her having returned to the social scene too soon, Elizabeth was unaware of them. She was too enthralled with her escort to pay attention to anything else.

Michael knew his victory was within reach as he escorted Elizabeth out to his carriage at the end of the evening. There was no doubt in his mind that she was totally captivated, and he knew the time had come to declare himself. He could see no reason to wait. The sooner he took her to bed, the sooner she’d be carrying his son. As he helped her into the waiting conveyance, his hands lingered possessively at her waist. After giving directions to the driver to take the long way home, Michael climbed inside and sat down beside her.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked as he boldly took her hand in his and drew her near.

Elizabeth sighed, “Oh, yes! I had a wonderful time. Thank you.” Michael was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man, and she knew in that moment that she would love only him for the rest of her life.

Michael read her emotions as easily as he would read a child’s primer.

“Oh, my darling,” he murmured, taking her in his arms. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted to do this all night long.” As the carriage rumbled off into the night, he held her close and kissed her. His mouth covered hers with expert precision as he deliberately sought to rouse her to a fever pitch. Parting her lips, he deepened the kiss as his hand moved to caress the soft swell of her breast.

Elizabeth stiffened at this unexpected intimacy, but then relaxed as shivers of delight coursed through her. This was Michael, the man she’d been waiting for all of her life. She loved him. Looping her arms about his neck, she returned his kiss full measure. She wanted to be close to him. She’d wanted this for ever so long. When Michael drew back, Elizabeth blinked up at him through passion-dazed eyes.

“Michael?”

“Ah, sweetheart,” Michael told her huskily, playing the tortured lover. “I’ve waited so long to hold you and kiss you as a man who loves a woman should. But I don’t want to press you . . .”

At his use of the word “love,” she smiled up at him. “Do you, Michael? Do you love me?” she asked eagerly in all innocence.

“What do you think, my darling?” he returned, allowing her to believe that he did. He pulled her back against him and claimed her mouth once more to further convince her. If he had to act like a besotted suitor to get his hands on her fortune, he would.

Happiness surged through Elizabeth. Michael loved her and she loved him! When they finally broke apart many heated kisses later, Elizabeth knew she had to tell him that she felt the same way.

“I love you, too, Michael.”

“Elizabeth, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. Marry me and make me the happiest man in the world.” His words were no lie. He would be the happiest man in the world if she married him—especially if she got pregnant right away.

“Yes, yes! Oh, yes! I’ll marry you! There’s nothing I want more than to be your wife.”

Michael kissed her deeply and with great feeling. His victory was complete! She was his! He exalted in her surrender to him. The knowledge that she was his for the taking filled him with a great sense of power. It had all been so easy. Now, all he needed was a son . . .

When he ended the embrace some time later, he continued to hold her close as he said, “I’ll have to speak to your aunt, of course.”

“Soon, I hope,” Elizabeth said without reserve as she nestled in his arms. She was ecstatic. This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. This was the man who would take care of her, love her, cherish her and make her happy for all eternity. Her life couldn’t have been more perfect at that moment.

“I’ll wake her tonight, if you like,” Michael teased, “but I think tomorrow morning might be better, don’t you?”

“Tomorrow will be perfect,” she agreed, pressing a kiss to his lips. She felt warm and safe with him. This was love as she’d always known it would be.

The following day, Blanche, of course, offered no objection to Michael’s proposal; and, at his insistence, the wedding was scheduled to take place a scant three months later. It was to be a lavish affair. Blanche and Sarah were caught up in the excitement of the planning. The arrangements were made, and a white satin gown beaded with pearls and suitable for a princess was ordered for Elizabeth. Blanche was determined to give her niece everything that she, herself, had never had. Elizabeth would be the prettiest bride Philadelphia had ever seen.

Only Angel remained distant and aloof from the preparations for the coming celebration. She could find no joy in the thought of Elizabeth marrying Michael Marsden. Her hatred of the man was reinforced late one afternoon just three weeks before the wedding when she started downstairs unexpectedly and came upon Celia, the maid, in the front foyer with Michael. Angel stopped where she was and remained unseen in the shadows. It was obvious that Celia thought she and Michael were alone for she smiled up at him quite brazenly.

“Michael,” Celia cooed. “It’s so good to see you.”

Angel frowned at the servant’s familiarity with her sister’s fiancé. Robert always referred to Michael as Mr. Marsden whenever he addressed them. She grew even more worried when he responded to Celia with a smile.

“Hello, Celia.”

“Everyone’s upstairs right now,” she told him, giving him a coy look.

“Oh?” Without another word, Michael drew the maid into a corner where he thought no one could see them and kissed her.

Angel was outraged. She turned and rushed back to her sister’s room wanting to tell her what she’d seen.

“Elizabeth!” Angel hurried into the bedroom to find her sister sitting at her dressing table brushing out her hair.

“What is it, sweetie?” she asked. Elizabeth adored Angel, and she knew she was going to miss her after she married and went to live in the big, new house Michael had bought for them.

“It’s Michael—”

“Michael? Yes, I know, he’s here already. I was just finishing my hair before I went down to see him.”

“No—you don’t understand.” Angel was upset and it showed in her distressed manner.

Elizabeth put her hairbrush aside and turned to regard her little sister with concern. “What’s happened? What don’t I understand?”

“I just saw him downstairs with Celia, and they were talking and . . .”

Elizabeth frowned, wondering why Angel thought this was so important. “And?”

“And . . . and he was . . . !”

“Angela!” Aunt Blanche’s voice had rung out from the doorway behind her, cutting through the conversation. “What did I tell you before?”

Angel cringed. “I was just—”

“I know what you ‘were just.’ You were just trying to cause trouble, that’s what you ‘were just’! Michael has never been anything but the perfect gentleman. If he was talking with Celia, then I’m sure there was a reason for it.”

“But, Aunt Blanche, Michael was—”

“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d act like this, trying to spoil things for your sister,” Blanche said scathingly. “If you can’t be nice, then go to your room! I’ve half a mind now not to let you attend the wedding at all.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Elizabeth put in soothingly. Angel was so young, and, having just lost their father, Elizabeth figured she was worried about losing her, too. Wanting to reassure Angel, she rose from the dressing table to go to her. “I love you, Angel, very much.”

“I know. That’s why I had to tell you about Michael. He’s not nice.”

Elizabeth stiffened at her continued protests. Trying to be understanding, she said, “I’m sorry you don’t like Michael. I wish you did. He means the world to me and we are going to be married. I’d like you to be happy for me—for us.”

Confused, Angel could only stare at Elizabeth in silence. Elizabeth waited a moment hoping for a warm response, but when there was none, she pressed a soft kiss on her sister’s cheek and left the room to go to her fiancé. Angel watched her go, wondering why she hadn’t wanted to hear the truth.

“Since you didn’t see fit to apologize, young lady,” Blanche stated firmly, “I want you to go to your room and stay there until you’re ready to tell your sister you’re sorry.”

Angel fought back the hot tears of anger and frustration as she ran out of the bedroom. She didn’t know if she could ever apologize for trying to tell Elizabeth the truth.

Resplendent in her beautiful pearl-studded, lace-trimmed, white satin gown, Elizabeth truly looked like a royal princess on her wedding day. The ceremony was held in the early evening in the parlor of the Windsor mansion and a reception followed immediately thereafter. Elizabeth positively glowed with love for her new husband. Michael, too, appeared to be madly in love. He showered his bride with attention, affection, and extravagant gifts, convincing everyone that it was indeed a love match for them. Everyone, that is, except Angel.

While Blanche and Sarah were swept along in the excitement of the fairy-tale perfect wedding, Angel shared none of their joy. It was true that Angel had never seen her sister so happy, but she was still repelled by Michael. She despised him, and no matter what others might think or say, she would never forget or forgive the kiss she’d witnessed between him and Celia.

Though the reception seemed a joyful celebration, Angel couldn’t keep from worrying about Elizabeth. Michael acted like he loved her, but Angel knew better. Upset, she slipped away from the party unnoticed and ran away from the house.

The moon shone brightly, lighting Angel’s way; and without difficulty, she found the cemetery where her parents were buried. Most people would have been afraid to enter a graveyard at night, but not Angel. She had known only kindness and love from her parents, and she felt completely safe in the serenity of the park-like setting. Troubled and desperate, she dropped to her knees before their headstones and began to cry.

“Oh, Mama . . . Papa . . . I don’t know what to do,” Angel sobbed. “I don’t like him! I don’t like him at all! He’s going to hurt Elizabeth, I just know he is!”

Angel wept inconsolably before her parents’ graves, wanting to help her sister, yet not knowing how. It was late when she finally returned to the house. The reception was still going on. No one had missed her, and she was glad. She looked around hoping to see Elizabeth again.

“Sarah, where’s Elizabeth?” Angel asked as she sought out her sister.

“Didn’t you see them leave? They’ve gone on their honeymoon. Isn’t that romantic?” Sarah sighed dreamily, imagining the day when she would be carried off by a handsome husband of her own.

Angel struggled not to let Sarah see how deeply the news that Elizabeth was already departed upset her. There was nothing more she could do. It really was too late.

Elizabeth donned a seductive, white-lace nightgown and wrapper and dabbed her favorite perfume at her wrists and throat as she readied herself for her wedding night. She had a general idea of what went on between a man and a woman, and she was looking forward to making love with Michael. She wanted so badly to be with him that her heart actual