The next morning, her gentle tones awoke him.
“Rik? Rik, darling. It’s time to wake up.”
Rik stirred from his deep sleep and stretched, momentarily puzzled at the dried sticky mess on his chest. A slow smile spread across his features as he remembered what had happened just before he’d fallen asleep.
“Proud of yourself?”
The sound of her voice made him scramble for the sheet. She laughed prettily, covering her soft lips with her hand. He felt the heat in his face and wondered if she could see his embarrassment.
“You weren’t so shy last night.”
“You watched?”
“Of course.”
She cocked her head knowingly.
“After 190 years, did you think I would miss seeing the well-made body of a naked man and the consummation of his pleasure?”
Rik hadn’t thought of that. In his mind, she was pure and innocent, a lady of the Regency era, where nakedness existed only in twilight and passion was akin to sin. “Uh, I … “
Her giggles echoed in his mind.
“You’re such a silly boy! Did you think I wouldn’t hear you when you called my name?”
Had he done that? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was that he’d cum hard and by the leftovers crackling across his chest, he’d cum a lot. “I don’t remember. If I did, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I was very flattered.”
Her voice changed, morphing from soft to authoritative.
“You have to get moving or you’ll be late for work.”
“Oh, shit!”
“Rikard!”
“Sorry, my lady.” He leaped from the bed, showered, shaved and quickly dressed. He stepped in front of the painting, straightening his tie. “Will you be all right while I’m gone?”
“Yes, but I’ll be missing you.”
“Will you, my lady?”
“Yes, dear Rikard, I will.”
Her smile warmed him to his very toes.
“I’ll have a surprise for you when you get home.”
“A surprise? For me?”
“Yes, now get going!”
She laughed gaily.
“Rikard, you are worse than a child at Christmas!”
Rik bowed deeply to her and felt the blood rush to his face when she curtsied in response. “Until tonight.”
Her voice was low and velvety.
“Yes, dear love. Until tonight.”
*****
“You are late.”
Patrick Russell strode into his sitting room and tossed his hat on the table. It was barely afternoon and he was already exhausted. He’d had to wait until nearly midnight before he could break into the shop and it took him almost three hours to locate the sales files. The woman, Marlena Compton, did a brisk business and her records were well kept and notated. The kid’s name was Rik Kershaw and he lived in a well-protected apartment. The doorman had refused him entrance and was so far, not bribable. He had tried to enter behind another tenant and had been swiftly removed, despite his pleas, then bribes and later, threats.
He loosened his cravat and poured a good-sized jolt of whiskey for himself before turning to face Frederick Allen Hendrickson, the Marquess of Ravenstone.
“I had a lot of work to do.”
“And?” Russell huffed. He was unused to being ordered around like a servant and he was bristling under the constraints. He wished that he’d never bought the damned painting. “Did you not hear me?”
“I heard you.” He snarled, dropping into a chair opposite the nearly seven-foot tall portrait. “I know his address but I was not able to get inside.”
“Fool! Don’t you know how important it is for me to gain access to that painting?” The marquess spat, his regal features crumpling with anger. “The apex occurs for only two days and I must get to her during that time.”
“I know this. You’ve told me this a million times already.”
“But it doesn’t seem to have impressed the importance on you!”
Russell drained his drink and rubbed the slightly chilled glass against his forehead. “I know how important it is but I warned you that there were bound to be obstacles.”
“If we had found the painting more quickly … “
“If you had given me the correct information to begin with, that pleasant fact might have happened!” Russell snapped, daring to show his own anger and frustration. “That painting sat in the shop for nearly
two
years!”
The man in the painting remained quiet for a moment, his lip curling. “I know that.”
“Then let’s not quibble about such inconsequential things. I know where he works. I will gain entry to his apartment and I will get the portrait.” Russell sighed. “And you will have your precious Angelica.”
“And you will have what I promised … immortality.”
Russell closed his eyes and rubbed his throbbing temples, wondering how the hell he was going to get into that kid’s apartment.
*****
He bought flowers on the way home. He knew that she liked daisies and had the florist make up a nice bouquet for her. After all, she had a surprise for him. She would definitely enjoy his surprise of fresh flowers, wouldn’t she?
He pushed the door open and stopped in his tracks. The entire apartment had been cleaned and re-arranged in a more pleasing fashion and the scent of roses filled the air. Another smell met his nostrils. He set the flowers down on the hall table and walked into the kitchen, amazed to find a roasted chicken crisping in the oven and green beans with almond slivers in a bowl, steaming and warm on the oven’s top. The table was set for two and a lone red rose rested in the bud vase.
“Angelica?”
“In here.”
Her voice sounded different. It didn’t sound like it was in his head as it had before. She sounded … close. He grabbed the bouquet and headed for the bedroom, his jaw dropping as he entered. His bed had been moved and brilliant sunlight lit the room. He never realized that the headboard had been covering that window.
But the most remarkable thing was sitting in his parlor chair. It was Angelica.
“No!” She exclaimed as he rushed towards her. “Do not touch me for I’m not whole yet.”
Rik stopped in his tracks, seeing the truth in her words. The sun’s gentle rays poured through her gossamer form, alighting on her curves and bringing radiance to her blue eyes. “My lady.” She smiled at his bow, her smile growing as he presented the flowers. “For you.”
“Daisies!” She took one from the bunch and he watched as it faded to transparency in her fingers. She raised it to her face, clipped off the long stem with a fingernail and tucked the blossom behind her ear. “How did you know that daisies are my favorite?”
“I read up on you at the library.”
Her face fell at his words. “Then you know about … “
“Yes. I know about Frederick.” Rik wished that he could touch her, if only to soothe her worries away. “He seemed to be a boor.”
“He was a boor. He thought himself so much better than anyone else.” Angelica paused, raising her eyes to him. “I used to devote a good amount of time to St. Anne’s. It was an orphanage for the poor and it gave me such a good feeling to help the young ones. Frederick laughed when he heard what I was doing. He said that they were right where they belonged.”
“That’s horrible!”
“He forbade me to continue my work there. He said that he didn’t want me consorting with their type, especially after we were married. He said he was afraid that I’d catch a disease from them.”
Rik saw the sly smile on her beautiful lips. “But you didn’t stop, did you?”
“No.” She tugged another daisy from the batch and twirled it between her elegant fingers. “You see, I fell in love.”
Rik’s heart shriveled in his chest and he felt light-headed at her words. “Fell in love?”
She nodded, laughing at his reaction. “His name is Quentin and he’s seven years old.”
“Seven?”
“Yes. He’s one of the orphans. He always picks the books he wants me to read and helps to clean up after the younger kids.” Angelica’s eyes swept downward, back to the tender flower in her hands. “I wanted to adopt him … “
“But Frederick said no?”
Again, she nodded. “He didn’t want any castoffs in his house. He said the only children he wanted were ones he’d plant in my womb.” She touched her stomach, an expression of revulsion on her face. “I wasn’t interested in anything he wanted to plant.”
Rik smiled. “I can understand that.”
