A Midsummer Night's Kiss (Howertys #1)

Chapter 5: Ride Along

Her family's imminent arrival in London came sooner than Angel would have liked, as the following two weeks went by quicker than ever. Jessica Howerty had become a friend in a way she had never experienced before, and she loved every moment they had together. They could easily spend an afternoon discussing books or the latest gossip making the rounds of the ton. 

There were shopping excursions with Mrs Grey and the other Howerty sisters. Lengthy rides in Hyde Park. Meetings in fashionable tea shops. All things she had never imagined herself doing, but now found she enjoyed immensely. Apparently, it had a lot to do with the company you kept.

Philip had called on her a couple of times but never stayed long, which was probably just as well as they had nothing to talk about. He mainly enjoyed talking about his trips to the racing course, or which balls he had attended, and which ladies he had danced with, as if he hoped to make her jealous. She wasn't sure if she was meant to be, but she had to admit she couldn't muster even a sliver of the green-eyed devil.

Not wanting to anger her cousin Joan, who never liked it when Angel was allowed to do something she was not—the whole reason Angel had to wait a year to have her season as she had to wait until Joan turned eighteen—she had not attended any more balls after Jessica's. Not being particularly fond of crowded rooms, it didn't bother her to wait a little longer, and it would keep the peace with her cousin. Sometimes it was just easier to comply, something she had learnt early on.

Jessica complained about her absence, saying the balls were all very dull without her, but they saw each other plenty. Sometimes Nathaniel joined, and even though she didn't want to admit it, those were some of Angel's favourite times. She was waiting for just such an occasion—Nathaniel had bought a new phaeton and had promised to take her and Jessica for a ride in Hyde Park—when she heard some commotion in the entrance hall. Thinking it might be her friends, she went to see why the footman had not come to inform her. As she entered the hall, she stopped, her stomach tying itself into a hard knot.

"No, no, no!" Her aunt, Christine Grant, gestured wildly at a footman carrying some of their luggage. "Not that one!"

The entrance hall was full of heavy trunks and footmen preparing to take them to their rooms. Both large in stature, Mr and Mrs Grant filled the room, their shadows blocking the light and leaving the room darker and heavier than usual. Aunt Christine always used her size to her advantage, as it allowed her to appear quite domineering when she wanted to be. Which was usually always.

"Angel!" Her cousin Joan caught sight of her, and as she noticed Angel's jacket, her blue eyes narrowed. "Where are you going?"

Angel took a few steps into the hallway. "I'm going for a ride in the park with some friends."

"Which ones?" The tone of her cousin's voice implied she didn't think she had any.

"Lady Jessica Howerty and her brother the Marquess of Pensington." Angel wasn't proud of it, but she enjoyed the look of astonishment and vexation that came over Joan's pretty face.

"How did you get to know them?"

"The marquess is an old friend of James's."

"I see." Joan watched her with unbridled envy. It was no secret that she was hoping to marry a titled gentleman this season. The higher ranked, the better. Her cousin had never set her expectations low, but Angel didn't think it was an impossible goal. Despite her hate for Angel, Joan was a good-looking young woman with her sable hair and voluptuous body, and she could be charming to those she deemed worthy.

"Angel!" Aunt Christine called out. "Come over here so I can look at you."

Dutifully, Angel walked over to the older woman. Aunt Christine had been beautiful once. She probably was, but bitterness had edged deep lines in her face that could not be erased. Still, one could see where Joan had got her looks. Compared to the dark-haired, well-bred Grants, Angel couldn't help but feel like a pasty plank. Flat and colourless.