Page 7 of Glorious Angel


  Angela was shocked. “But I don’t need—”

  But he anticipated her objection. “I have asked that you let me think of you as a daughter, Angela,” he interrupted her softly. “I would do no less for Zachary’s wife, so please let me do as much for you. And if you are feeling shy about it, think of it as helping out some poor seamstress who needs the business.”

  So they were on their way to the city to choose dress styles and materials appropriate to a young lady of seventeen. Later, they bought all the accessories Jacob insisted she needed, in the very stores she had once looked in on so wistfully. Trunks were bought, and bonnets and shoes, toilet articles, warm jackets for the colder weather she would soon encounter. So much money changed hands that Angela was dazed. It was all really happening, and to Angela Sherrington!

  Chapter 12

  AFTER three winters in South Hadley, Massachusetts, Angela should have been used to cold weather, but she wasn’t. She didn’t think she ever would be. The other girls didn’t seem to mind it, though, for most of them came from northern states.

  Angela didn’t have any friends in school, except for Naomi Barkley, who treated her more like a daughter than a pupil. Angela had long ago given up hope of finding a friend. It wasn’t her fault. She had tried hard to be friendly. But the other students took an immediate dislike to her because of her southern accent, for many of them had lost brothers and fathers because of the war. As they blamed the South for the war, they blamed her.

  Wishing it had been different, Angela managed to live with the hostility the first year, for she had Naomi, and Angela lost herself in learning. But being the butt of practical jokes, she couldn’t help losing her temper occasionally. She shocked the other girls with her knowledge of swear words. Angela would hurl expletives at them that turned their faces red. She enjoyed shocking them. It was the only relief she had.

  One good thing was that, through Naomi, Angela came to know more about her own mother. She even learned about the things that Jacob Maitland had been reluctant to discuss, her mother’s reason for leaving Springfield, Massachusetts.

  Charissa had been thirteen when her parents’ world crumbled in the Depression of 1837. But they managed to keep her in school, and she was kept in the dark about their poverty and mounting debts. She didn’t discover the truth until they died in 1845. Since Charissa’s family and the Maitlands had been good friends, Charissa became a companion to Jacob’s mother. When Jacob’s mother died, in ‘47, Charissa became a governess for a banking family.

  Naomi saw her occasionally then, and Charissa confessed that she was in love with a married man, that it was impossible for him to leave his wife and children. She wouldn’t say who the man was, but Naomi suspected it was the banker. Because of the hopelessness of her romance, Charissa left Springfield for Alabama.

  Angela wondered why Jacob had been so reluctant to tell her the truth. She was certainly old enough to understand.

  On one of the girls’ frequent outings to Springfield, Angela huddled close to the entrance of a store, waiting for the other girls to finish with their purchases. She really shouldn’t have come today, for she had a lot of studying to do. But she needed a little more blue yarn to finish a sweater she was making for Naomi.

  Angela pulled the hood of her cape tighter about her face, feeling the fur lining cold against her skin. She wished the other girls would hurry.

  Suddenly a commotion caught her attention. Down the street, on the opposite side, two little boys were having an argument. Angela watched with alarm as one boy pushed the other, and a fight began. But just then, a tall man approached and said something to the boys. They immediately stopped fighting and ran off in separate directions.

  The man seemed vaguely familiar, and she watched him intently.

  Angela gasped, drawing the attention of Jane and Sybil, who had come out of the store.

  “Did you know that man, Angela?” Jane asked.

  Angela turned around to look at them, the color gone from her face. It had been almost five and a half years since she last saw Bradford Maitland. For some mysterious reason that the family wouldn’t talk about, he had not returned to Golden Oaks since the summer of ‘62. What was he doing in Springfield?

  Sybil giggled and whispered something to Jane, whose eyes opened wide. But Angela wasn’t paying attention to them as she stared at the brown building across the street. She was lost in the past. In all these years, hardly a day passed that Angela didn’t think about Bradford, and now she had seen him once again.

  Jane shook Angela’s arm. “Why don’t you go in there and see him? You know you want to.”

  “I—I couldn’t,” Angela stammered.

  “Of course you can,” Jane said, a gleam in her eyes. “We will say that you met a lady friend who offered to take you back to school.”

  “But that’s a lie.”

  “We’ll keep your secret, Angela,” Sybil offered encouragement. “And you can always hire a carriage to take you back to school if your friend won’t. It’s early in the afternoon. You won’t be missed until dinner. Go on into the building.”

  Angela handed her small package to Jane and slowly crossed the street.

  But when she reached the steps that led to the brown building, she suddenly had reservations about going on. It was an awfully brash thing to do, to go looking for a man. What would Bradford think of her?

  Angela turned about quickly, suddenly ready to run back to the store. But the girls were gone. Why not see it through? It seemed silly not to talk to Bradford.

  Angela mounted the steps and knocked loudly on the door. A few moments later the door was opened by a tall man in rolled-up shirt sleeves and vest, a cigar stuck between his teeth, who waited for her to speak. When she didn’t, he grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, closing the door behind her.

  “Got to keep the cold out, honey,” the man said in a gruff but friendly voice.

  It took Angela a few seconds for her eyes to become adjusted to the dim lighting in the foyer, but she could see clearly into the room off the foyer that was brightly lit and filled with men and expensively dressed women sitting around large tables. This was a gambling house! Smoke floated out of the wide double doors, and the sound of laughter, groaning, shouting, and swearing mingled together. She saw mat the foyer and the room beyond had dark red walls, with lewd pictures covering them.

  The man behind Angela startled her when he began removing her cape. “Since you ain’t escorted, you must be the new girl Henry promised to send over. Hey Peter!” he called out. “Go tell Maudie the new girl is here. You better give me your jacket too, honey. It’s nice and warm in here and we don’t want to hide the goods. You’re sure a fancy dresser, but you ain’t much for words. Come on, Maudie’s waiting.”

  Angela was speechless. What new girl was she supposed to be? She should explain, but the man was pulling her along behind him. He entered a room across from where the gamblers were winning and losing fortunes, and left her without saying any more.

  The room was large, and filled with women dressed in bright silks and satins, and lounging on plush velvet sofas. Even the walls were velvet. There was a fancy staircase in the back of the room, and here Angela saw Bradford on his way up the stairs, a pretty redhead on his arm. He saw her too and suddenly stopped. Her heart seemed to stop and her palms began to sweat. Did he recognize her after all this time?

  “Hey, Maudie, I’ve changed my mind,” Bradford said. “I’ll take that new girl.”

  Maudie looked in Angela’s direction and then smiled up at Bradford. “New is right, gent. That one will cost you extra.”

  “Hell!” Bradford grumbled. “I’ve already lost a damn fortune at your tables, so have a little pity.”

  “Sorry, gent, but that one is going to be in demand. She comes high.”

  “All right, how much?”

  “Double,” Maudie answered.

  Maudie approached Angela as the redhead left Bradford’s side and descended the stairs
, a pouting expression on her heavily painted face. Angela realized now that all these women were prostitutes.

  She would have a hard time explaining her way out of here. But maybe Bradford had recognized her and was saving her from an embarrassing situation. He would find a way to get her out of here, she was sure of it. She hurried over to him and he slipped his arm around her waist. As they started up the stairs, Angela smelled liquor fumes on him.

  “Name’s Bradford, my dear, and you damn well better be worth what I paid for you,” he said, his yellow-brown eyes roving over her body.

  She was afraid to say anything just yet, and allowed him to lead her to an upstairs room. Bradford closed the door. His next words made her gasp.

  “You can shed your clothes while I fix us a drink. I see Maudie’s got some bubbly on hand.”

  Maybe she had misunderstood. “You’re already drunk, Bradford. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

  “Start shedding those pretty clothes. Don’t know why I have to tell you how to do your job.”

  Angela was in shock. He didn’t recognize her! He had no idea who she was! He thought she was a prostitute! What was she going to do?

  “Bradford, you don’t understand. I—”

  She had started to gather her wits when he crossed to her in quick strides and tilted her face to his. Angela shrank back from him when she saw the yellow flames in his eyes. This was the Bradford from the portrait. She felt an unreasonable fear as he grabbed her shoulders.

  “What the hell is the matter with you, girl? If this frightened act is supposed to excite your customers, you can stop it right now. It doesn’t work for me. Now get your dress off.”

  “I—I can’t,” Angela stammered, her mind fogging over.

  All of a sudden he laughed, lights dancing in his amber eyes.

  “Why in blazes didn’t you say so?”

  He turned her around and started to unfasten her bindings. Angela realized that he had mistaken her refusal. He assumed that she couldn’t remove her dress without help. She stood motionless while his fingers worked on her bindings. She was afraid to move. Now that she had let it go this far, would she be able to stop him? And then she realized with a sudden terrible jolt that she didn’t want him to stop. Hundreds of times she had dreamed of a moment like this one, with the two of them alone together, making love.

  This was the man she had loved all these years, and at this moment he wanted her, too. She wanted to feel his hands on her, to taste his kisses, if only for this one time.

  Oh, God, why not? She could have this one time with him, to remember forever. She could give him her love, as she had always wanted to. She would give herself freely to him and pretend for a little while that he loved her too.

  Bradford bent down and kissed the soft flesh of her neck, making her tremble with his nearness.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, honey, but you had me worried that you didn’t want to go through with this.”

  “You mean you wouldn’t force me if I didn’t want to?” she asked as she turned around to face him.

  “Hell no!” Bradford growled, insulted.

  He surprised her by taking her in his arms and making her head spin with the forcefulness of his kiss. It was her first kiss, and given by the man she had always loved! She felt weak, yet exhilarated, and a strange fluttering moved through her.

  Suddenly Bradford released her, leaving her breathless. “Damned if I don’t feel like I’m in another place and time.”

  He gently removed her clothes, and the sight of her standing naked, with only a gold coin hanging between the generous mounds of her breasts, moved him deeply. He slowly took the pins from her hair, letting the soft brown curls fall gently about her shoulders. He kissed her eyes and her face, then gently brushed her lips before he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

  Angela was afraid she wouldn’t know what to do, but Bradford led her in everything. He was gentle as he introduced her body to the feel of his hands and his lips. She felt no shame as he explored her. She was soon able to caress and stroke him in return, and even to clasp his manhood and find elation in his groan of pleasure.

  When he finally mounted her, Angela was prepared to experience the ultimate in pleasure, but she wasn’t prepared for what followed. Pain burst like fire inside her. She clenched her teeth and only a gasp escaped her. But he looked down at her with a puzzled frown.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” she quickly reassured him.

  “Then why the nails in my back?” he grinned.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

  “Don’t apologize. It’s not often I find a passionate woman. In fact, it’s been my luck to pick the ice maidens of this world—until now.”

  He kissed her again and started to move in her once more. The pain was gone now. It felt so good having him inside her, meeting his body with each grinding plunge. All too soon he thrust deep in her and then stopped, leaving her regretting that it was over. She expected him to roll away, but he didn’t. He just lay on her, breathing heavily, then started to move in her again.

  She was delighted that it wasn’t over yet, that he was still in her, loving her. And then a new sensation started to grow in her, one that was exquisitely different. It intensified, getting stronger and stronger until it burst forth in one giant throb of pleasure. She had entered a whole new world.

  He kissed her gently, then whispered, “If I weren’t so tired, I could make love to you all afternoon and on through the night. Next time.”

  He eased away with a heavy sigh and lay on his stomach beside her on the bed. His eyes were closed and sleep caught up with him quickly. Angela stared at his muscular body, so lean and perfect, then at his face, relaxed in slumber.

  It was all over now, and Angela knew she must leave this place quickly, before Maudie found another customer for her. She slipped out of bed slowly, trying not to disturb Bradford, then she saw the bloodstain on the satin sheet. She gasped at the evidence of her innocence, and hastily pulled the top sheet up to cover Bradford and the stain, then went to the bowl of water in the corner of the room and washed herself.

  She took the time to pin her hair back up, leaving a few of her curls to hang in ringlets, for she had to look the same as she had when she left the school. Then she began to put her clothes back on, but soon realized she couldn’t fasten the dress by herself. She had to have something to cover her unlaced back, and there was nothing in the room except his silver brocaded vest, or his white frilled shirt, or his coat. She put on the vest over her dress. Then it dawned on her that she would have to leave her own cape and jacket behind. She couldn’t go back downstairs to get them. She prayed there was another way out of this building other than through the room where Maudie was.

  Angela crossed to the bed for one last look at the man sleeping there. “I love you, Bradford Maitland, and I always will,” she whispered.

  “What?” he mumbled, without opening his golden-brown eyes.

  Angela inhaled sharply. “Nothing, Bradford. Go back to sleep.”

  With a deep breath, she quickly left the room, closing the door quietly. Then she started toward the back of the building, praying desperately for a safe exit.

  Chapter 13

  ANGELA returned to school late in the afternoon and went straight to her room without being noticed. She stayed there until dinner. So far, her joyous afternoon had gone undetected.

  That night at dinner, Angela knew the girls were waiting for her outburst of temper over the trick they had played on her. But she surprised them with smiles and warm cheerful greetings. She knew they were dying of curiosity. Good!

  Later that night, when Angela slowly drifted to sleep, miles away in Springfield, Bradford Maitland was rudely awakened from his slumber.

  “This is a fine thing!” Maudie yelled as she burst into the room, startling him awake. “I go off to do some shopping and have a little dinner, and I come back to find you’ve had that girl up
here all day.” She stopped and looked about the room. “Where the hell is she?”

  Bradford shrugged. “I asked her to stay, but I guess she got tired of watching me sleep. Isn’t she downstairs?”

  “Would I be here asking for her if she was?” Maudie said stiffly. “Now what the hell did you do to that girl to make her run off?”

  “Shut up, woman, and give me a chance to wake up!” Bradford growled.

  “I ain’t leaving here till I get to the bottom of this.” Maudie stood her ground at the foot of the bed.

  “Well, get the hell out of here while I dress.”

  “No time for bashfulness, gent,” she replied with a deep chuckle. “I’ve seen hundreds of men without their clothes on. You ain’t no different.”

  Bradford cursed under his breath. He wasn’t about to parade himself before the fat old bitch. Grabbing the top sheet, he wrapped it around his middle, crossed to the chair where he had thrown his clothes, then stood behind it to dress.

  “What the hell is this?” Maudie shrieked suddenly. “I bet you weren’t even going to tell me, were you? You were going to sneak out without paying the extra!”

  “Extra for what?” Bradford sighed.

  “She was a virgin—as if you didn’t know! And the proof’s right there on the bed.”

  Bradford stared at the stain and his eyes suddenly narrowed dangerously. “What are you trying to pull, Maudie? The girl was a prostitute—she knew what she was doing! You want to explain to me how the hell a girl can be a prostitute and a virgin at the same time?”