French Angel

VI. Chapter six

"Come, my Ladies, we mustn't be late." The Duke of Stamford hurried Angélique and Rose along. When the Duke called on Angélique the following morn of the ball, he found himself in a dimly lit room full of books.

His little angel sat in a leather armchair, clothed in simple lime coloured dress, and with a white shawl around her shoulders, shielding her from the wind coming through the open window, and a book in her hands.

He almost didn't notice another smaller body curled up in the seat across from her. Upon closer inspection, Richard recognized Lady Rosalinda with a matching shawl and book. It was still early, and he had expected Angélique to still be in bed, after all, they did not leave until very late, or rather early that very same day.

Their first lesson was to start the very next morn under the cover of night, and so Richard thought she would prefer to get as much sleep as possible. It seemed she would never cease to surprise him at every chance she got.

Since his angel was awake and even had a companion, who could play her chaperone, he decided to take her up on her second part of the deal – tour guiding. The clouds suggested sunny morning, and he wanted to use it to his advance.

And so, both ladies both changed into their riding attire, while he made sure their horses were correctly saddled. Angélique was forced into her lady's riding dress and did not like it one bit.

When she was riding – alone or with Rose – she wore her pelisse, shirt and one of her own woman's trousers made out of leather. She hated riding in a side-saddle. It was uncomfortable and gave her no freedom to push her horse, Elulidus, to his full speed.

But the promise of warm spring day outside silenced the fight she was about to put up. As the two ladies stepped outside the house, there were horses already waiting for them. Richard helped Angélique to her saddle while Angélique's butler and housekeeper in one helped Rose, soon then they were off.

"Where did you say we were headed, my Lord?" Rose asked shyly the Duke who was riding on Angélique's right side. Angélique tried to hide her smile by turning her head from Rose, but that gave the Duke the opportunity to glimpse her face fully.

"I did not, my Lady." Laughter was obvious in his tone. Richard's flickering grey eyes met hers as they tried to contain their amusement. Poor Rose would think they were laughing at her, when the reality was, they were entertained by the fact he just whisked them away, sans giving them a hint of where they were going.

Angélique should not be amused by such a thing. Her and her friend's safety was in the hands of this handsome Duke. She should of have known better than to trust practically a stranger yet she could not help it.

Deep down it gave her thrill – not knowing where he was taking them, especially the fact that she was at his mercy. She peered at the Duke again. He left his usual attire behind, and instead, he wore simple riding boots, leather trousers, a plain shirt, and his hair, ever-so-perfectly groomed, was messy. He put no effort into his appearance, and Angélique found it refreshing, and in his case, she even preferred this look over the posh one he possessed first and last night.

Angélique observed as the wind played with the Duke's hair, his eyes blissfully closed, his expression of utter peace and content. Angélique found the view very much to her liking. But she knew that the man who now appeared simple and harmless was the very same man, who has spent eight years living the life of a warrior.

Angélique felt pride and admiration surge through her body. She gasped for breath at its intensity. 'Mon Dieu, this man is as beautiful as he is deadly.' The thought flew through Angélique's mind.