Lady angel of shenandoah.., p.1

Lady Angel of Shenandoah County, page 1

 

Lady Angel of Shenandoah County
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Lady Angel of Shenandoah County


  LADY ANGEL OF SHENANDOAH COUNTY

  DAMSELS OF SHENANDOAH COUNTY

  BOOK I

  PIPPA GREATHOUSE

  Copyright © 2024 by Pippa Greathouse

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  LADY ANGEL OF SHENANDOAH COUNTY

  The

  Damsels of Shenandoah County

  Book One

  by

  Pippa Greathouse

  1

  Philadelphia, spring of 1850

  Angelica Dawson had answered the door herself the evening before, when the summons had come.

  It really was no surprise. She suspected the household funds had almost reached their end. The night, however, was spent tossing in her bed, and she arose the next morning with circles under her eyes. It was with trepidation she drug herself to her uncle’s law office. This time, she wore her mourning gown. His secretary showed her into the office.

  “Come in, Angelica, and sit down.”

  “Thank you, Uncle. You wanted to see me?”

  In answer, he turned the books around so she could see them. The figures at the bottom of the page were alarming.

  Angel watched Uncle Dreifus as he tapped his pencil on the line at the bottom of the page. Was he trying not to show her impatience with her? Or was he waiting for her to speak?

  “I hope you realize, Angel,” he said finally, as if attempting to appear sympathetic, “your inheritance is now gone, and with such little prospects, your situation is troublesome.”

  “Yes, Uncle Thomas, I do. Do I not have enough funds to manage for at least a few more months? I worry about the welfare of the staff I have left. They are the only family I have, now. Well,” she paused, raising sad eyes to his, “except you and Aunt Sarah, of course.”

  Thomas looked down at her and sighed. “I wish I could tell you what you’d like to hear.” His voice grew soft, and he gave her an indulgent smile. “Have you any idea how much you resemble my sister when she was your age? It throws me back in time when I look at you.”

  Angel looked away. She knew she bore her mother’s green eyes and red curly hair. Even the light freckles that marched across the bridge of her nose were often remarked upon by people who had known her.

  “You could always come and live with us, Angel. I could accept the servants into the house as well, for a few months; at least until they could find other employment. But you must come with them; you cannot stay in the house without a chaperone; you know that.”

  Her shoulders slumped. She had absolutely no desire to move in with her uncle. Aunt Sarah had no use for her and made no attempt to hide it. “So they say, Uncle. I’m sorry. I had no idea the estate was this low on funds. But in truth, I cannot live with you and Aunt Sarah. I fear she’d be frantic, having me there. It would never work.” Her gaze moved past him, toward the window. “I miss my mother so much, it hurts.”

  Inwardly, she gasped, wishing she hadn’t let the last sentence escape. She bolted from her chair and turned away, pacing. She was determined not to let her uncle see the threatening tears.

  “But not your father?” he finally said.

  Angel’s chin came up, and she faced him for a second. “You mean my stepfather? The one who gambled away my mother’s inheritance; the one who mistreated her?” Now, she turned back to the window. “No, Uncle. I don’t miss him. My mother might have been able to have better care, had he not used up the family fortune totally before he decided not to pay his gambling debts and was killed for it.”

  “I hear your frustration, Angel,” he said softly. “But with you there, I don’t know how her care could have been any better. I spoke with Dr. Biggs myself, regularly. If there had been any chance at all of her improvement, he would eagerly have sent her to a specialist. And I would have gladly paid for it myself.”

  Angel turned to him and flung her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. I know you would have,” she whispered. Then, turning back to the window, she leaned her hands on the sill and studied the horse-drawn buggies below. A man, tall and well-dressed, was making his way among the carriages on foot toward the building. With dark hair and a charming smile, he presented a stunning figure.

  As if he knew she was watching, however, his eyes rose suddenly toward the window where she stood. They were almost a silver grey, glinting in the sun, and an expression of amusement crossed his face that reached his eyes.

  Her face flushed hot, embarrassed that he’d seen her watching him. She turned away from the window, and quickly brushed the remaining tears from her face.

  “All right, Uncle Thomas,” she sighed. “What is it you wished to tell me?” She hadn’t realized he was standing behind her until he tugged on a red curl, affectionately, much as he had when she was a little girl.

  “Sit down, Angelica.” He said softly. “Please.”

  Bravely, she stepped around him and took a seat in the chair facing him.

  “I’m listening, sir.”

  Thomas, now at his desk, leaned forward, studying her a moment before proceeding.

  “I fear you won’t like this, my dear, but here it is. I have an old friend who recently passed on. He had the title of Viscount in England, but he renounced it when he came to America. He left the entire estate to his only son and heir, and it’s quite a large one. I know his son, Angel. He’s responsible and is managing it well. But he admits he’s struggling.”

  Angel only stared at him as dread descended over her like a cloud. There was suddenly no doubt why he had summoned her to his office. She felt it as her face lost color, and her gaze lowered to the Turkish rug on which her feet were resting.

  “And?” Her only word sounded cold.

  “The answer to your unspoken question, Angel, is yes. He needs to marry.”

  “Of course he does.” The words spoken under her breath were bitter.

  “He needs a wife at his side to help run the estate. He’s in his early thirties, and has always refused to settle down and take a bride. But he feels he no longer has that luxury. And he, for some reason, prefers not to choose locally.” As if he read her expression of sadness, he leaned back in his desk chair. “Angel, I know this young man; he’s responsible, mature, and he seems kind. I’ve watched him as he looks out for the staff and their children, and I wouldn’t recommend him unless I thought he would be good to you.”

  Still, she didn’t move, and he continued.

  “Because it’s such a large estate, he is a wealthy man; he has no need for a dowry from his bride. You have no idea how lucky you are that someone in his position would even consider you.”

  She sat in front of him in silence, refusing to speak.

  “Angel? Have you no questions?”

  Angel only rose, shaking her head in despair. Taking her reticule in her hand, she moved toward the door.

  “Angel?” His tone had changed somewhat, and she paused. Her hand rested on the doorknob, waiting.

  “I shall bring him by tomorrow afternoon at two to meet you. We shall not stay long; but I do wish to see how the two of you get on. It would please me greatly if you were gracious to him.”

  Angel made no response. She suddenly felt the urgent need to escape. Her hand twisted the door handle, jerking it open. It was as if being on the other side of the door was crucial. She ran, as if she were a feral cat escaping a cage, leaving the door open and hurrying down the hall toward the stairs.

  She didn’t realize what was about to happen until it was too late. Flying around another couple who were on their way down the hall, she plowed directly into the tall gentleman she’d just seen outside crossing the street. He seized her by the waist suddenly to steady her and set her once again on her feet.

  “Oh! My apologies, sir,” Angel could barely get the words out as she turned away, trying to hide the tears that insisted on trailing down her face.

  Outside the courthouse…

  Stumbling outside the building, Angel stopped and leaned back against the stone wall, her chest heaving. She failed to hear the sudden clap of thunder or notice the rain that suddenly began pelting her face. Tears flowed, mixing with rain.

  So, that’s the way it was. Just like that?

  No, she admitted to herself. This hadn’t happened overnight. She’d been quite aware the funds to keep them solvent were dwindling.

  She’d failed to stay long enough to ask exactly where this large estate was. Not that it mattered. She was being sent away, to be a man’s wife, regardless of her own will; her own desires. It didn’t matter what she thought, or what she wanted.

  She looked around her, suddenly. People were staring at her now. Angel forced herself to straighten up, and began hurrying home.

  The time had come. She was now forced to tell the staff she was being sold off to the highest bidder.

  But how could she tell them? Her heart hung heavy; they had cared for her since she was born. It had been necessary to let the rest of the household staff go earlier; her own Lady’s Maid, and her mother’s; the rest of the stable hands and horses. She had agonized over the decision, and had taken over her mother’s care, determined that she would do everything in her power to help her mother improve.

  But Lizzy had not improved; she had instead grown worse. Angel, sitting with her mot her day and night, had been heartbroken.

  Her mother’s funeral had taken place nine months ago. Angel had changed into mourning wear. But since funds were tight, she could only afford one mourning dress; she saved that for outdoor wear, and used her other dresses for everyday. The few ball gowns now hanging in her closet had been there over two years, made for her eighteenth birthday. Angel had worn none of them. Her mother’s jewels were still here; the few her stepfather had not sold off to pay for his gambling habit. Angel knew she could sell those to keep the household going for a little while; but it would only prolong the inevitable, and not for long.

  Slowly, she made her way inside the house and up the stairs, her gown soaked. Maddie put her head outside the kitchen just in time to see her, and chased her up the stairs to find her sitting sideways on the seat in front of her vanity in her wet gown. She was staring at the room, but seeing nothing.

  “Miss Angel! You’re soaked through to the skin!” Maddie voiced in dismay. “We must get you warm and dry, and quickly!”

  “Oh, Maddie,” Angel whispered, meeting Maddie’s eyes. “Uncle Thomas has decided that I am to be married off. And… I suppose the house is to be sold.” She looked up apologetically. “I’m so sorry.”

  Maddie instantly knelt down, taking Angel’s face in her hands gently. “Now you listen to me, Miss Angel. We will be fine. We’ll find places for employment. I pray you will adore your husband, and that he will be good to you. What do you know about him?”

  “Nothing.” Angelica’s voice sounded empty as Maddie began helping her out of her gown. “Uncle Thomas believes he is kind. And rich; the heir of the estate. But that’s all. He may have horns and pointy ears for all I know. If he didn’t, surely someone there would have agreed to marry him already.”

  “Well, there you are, then. You’ll be the mistress of a big house. And have lots of servants. You’ll forget all about us.”

  “No!” Angel met her gaze once again, shaking her head with vehemence. “No, Maddie. I will never forget you, or the home I’ve grown up in. Never.” Only in her chemise now, she rose and slowly wandered toward the window, looking out as she reached it.

  “Never,” she whispered sadly, once again.

  When the sun came streaming through her organdy curtains the next morning, she awakened. Yawning, she looked toward the brightness and smiled. She had padded over to her window in bare feet, and was stretching, when she when she remembered. Uncle Thomas had said something about coming by, accompanied by Mr. Pointy ears and horns.

  Tomorrow? No, it was today, wasn’t it? Angel had been so filled with dismay when he’d mentioned it, she couldn’t be sure.

  She straightened up. Surely, Uncle Thomas would send a note to let her know when he intended to come. All she could remember for certain was that he had asked her to be gracious.

  “Gracious. He wants me to be gracious,” she muttered under her breath. Truly? Uncle Thomas could hardly expect it, under the circumstances. She opened the door to her wardrobe and dragged out something suitable for company. Hopefully, she wouldn’t soil it before they arrived. She put it on, slowly fastening the tiny buttons that marched delicately up the front of the bodice. Her curly hair she wore loose this morning; the length of it almost reached her waist. She tied a ribbon the same color as her dress into a bow at the base of her neck to keep it out of the way.

  She descended the stairs, to find Maddie, Elizabeth, and Benjamin in the kitchen. When the conversation ceased at her arrival, she realized they had been discussing her.

  “Good morning, Miss Angel.” Elizabeth left the stove, to envelop her in loving arms. “Don’t you worry about us, now,” she breathed. Maddie and Benjamin both nodded their agreement.

  “Of course, I shall worry about you,” Angel whispered. “How could I not? You’re my family now.”

  Elizabeth moved back to the stove, dishing out eggs and ham, coated with cheese, and set it on the table. Toast, with orange marmalade was next, followed by strong coffee. Milk was a luxury now; they had all accepted it and learned to do without it. They bought only small containers of cream when company was expected.

  “Is it possible to have tea for them when they come? I believe Uncle Thomas said that they would be here this afternoon; I’m not completely sure of the time.” She bit her lip. “I think it might have been three.” She tilted her head. “Or was it two?”

  “Tea and crumpets will be ready, Miss Angel, by half-past two. Blueberry tarts made fresh; they are your uncle’s favorite, are they not?”

  Angel nodded, dipping her fork into the delicate eggs. She took a bite, savoring them. “I know nothing about being the mistress of a large house. What shall I do? How shall I manage to not be a laughingstock? And what if the staff hates me there?”

  “Miss Angel, no one will laugh at you; you will be mistress there. And I know you; you will have them eating from your hand by the time you have been there only a few minutes.” Maddie’s voice was encouraging.

  But Angel was pushing the food around on her plate now; her appetite gone. Finally, she set her fork down.

  “Eat, Miss Angel,” Elizabeth said softly. “You need your strength.”

  Angel managed a smile. “Thank you, Elizabeth, but I cannot. I suppose I should be…” She looked up. “What should I be doing? Packing? He may hate me when he sees me. I may not need to pack. What if he does hate me? What shall I do then? What will happen to us?” She reached for a carrot that lay on the counter, still talking to herself when she left through the kitchen’s back door.

  Elizabeth watched her go, shaking her head. “My heart breaks for her. She is only twenty. It’s too much.”

  But Maddie was also shaking her head. “She’ll be all right. She’ll give it every ounce of effort she has; I know our Angel.”

  Elizabeth sighed and turned back to the stove, saying only, “I hope you’re right, Maddie.”

  Angel wandered outside and into the stable, where Pitney stood. He watched her approach and whinnied quietly.

  “Hello, handsome boy,” Angel reached into her pocket, holding out the carrot. He took it from her gratefully. “Are you hungry?” she asked softly, scratching his ears. She wondered who would buy him. Would they be good to him? She blinked back the tears that formed under her lids.

  She took a deep breath, realizing that she didn’t even know the name of the man who might soon become her husband. She stamped her foot, suddenly, at the terrible injustice of it.

  “Damn it!” she said, turning to go back to the house. “Damn it all!”

  Maddie and Elizabeth looked up when she came flying through the back door and slammed it behind her.

  “This is just wrong!” she said, furiously looking around her. “I hate it. I hate it!”

  “Miss Angel?” Maddie said, staring after her.

  But Angel had already fled the kitchen.

  “Miss Angel?” Maddie’s soft voice was heard outside her door.

  Angel blinked and opened her eyes upon hearing it. “Come in, Maddie.”

  Maddie opened the door, looking worried. “It’s almost two. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” She saw Angelica’s confused expression and added. “Two in the afternoon. You said your uncle was bringing the gentleman⁠—”

  “Yes!” Angelica threw her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. “Oh, Maddie! Can you help me freshen up? My hair—it’s dreadful.”

  Maddie handed her a washcloth, which she wiped over her face. Her eyes were still somewhat red from crying, and she held the cool cloth over them for a moment. Maddie worked on straightening her dress. Next, she dragged a soft brush through her Angel’s long hair and straightened her ribbon as well.

  “How do I look?”

  The housekeeper pinched a little color into her cheeks and smiled. “Perfect. If he doesn’t fall for you immediately, there is something indeed wrong with him.”

  Elizabeth appeared at her door, looking frantic. “Miss Angel, your uncle is at the front door with a gentleman.”

 

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