Forbidden Angel by Sandra Lea Rice

money available.”
    Adrian paused. “I had my man of business look into it.” He tilted his head, then deftly changed the subject. “Are you unhappy here?”
    “That’s something I wish to discuss with you. My birthday is in a few months and I’ll be one-and-twenty.” She saw him stiffen. “I plan to return to England and Ashley Manor at that time. I will have reached my majority and will no longer be in need of your protection.”
    “No, I will not allow it. Majority or not, you cannot go back there, and you most definitely need my protection.”
    Angeline placed her hands on her hips and faced him. “You won’t allow it? I don’t see that it’s your decision to make. I’m not asking you, Adrian, I’m telling you. If you will not allow me to stay at Ashley Manor, then I shall hire a companion and move to the house in London left to me by my mother. My inheritance will see me quite comfortably settled for a long time.”
    He practically vibrated with anger. “I said no and I meant it. I will not let you go.”
    Angeline lifted her chin. “I am leaving.”
    “Like hell you are. If I have to lock you in your room, you’ll not leave here.” He shook his finger in her face. “It isn’t safe for you to go back. If you think turning twenty-one will stop a lunatic like Charles Malcolm, you are badly mistaken.”
    Thunder rumbled and they both glanced up as heavy, black clouds rolled across the sky accompanied by flashes of lightening.
    “We should get inside before the storm hits.” His eyes narrowed on her. “This isn’t finished, Angeline.”
    “Adrian, you know you cannot stop me from leaving.”
    “I can and I will.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode for the barn, leaving her gaping after him.
    The storm hit with vicious intent. Wind buffeted the house while rain beat against the windowpanes. Even as a child, Angeline had been frightened of storms, but since the death of her father during a particularly violent one, her fears had worsened.
    The ormolu clock chimed. Midnight. She tossed back the covers and slipped from her bed, making her way through the darkened halls to the study. There were rows of books lining the shelves, and she knew no one would mind her borrowing one. Perhaps if she read for awhile, the storm would pass and she would then be able to sleep.
    When she pushed open the door, she was startled to find a lamp burning on the desk. Adrian’s gaze pinned her, obviously surprised to see her, then swung to a spot across the desk. Hers followed. The forms of two other men were partially hidden in the shadows.
    “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize . . .” she began.
    Joel stepped into the circle of light cast by the lamp, followed by Michael Harrington.
    Angeline’s gaze encompassed both men as her emotions tumbled from confusion to comprehension, then hurt. She spun and rushed for the door.
    “Angeline, wait,” Adrian called out.
    Her shoulders slumped and she leaned her forehead against the door. When she once again faced them, it was Michael she regarded first.
    “Angeline, please let me—” Michael started, only to pause when she raised her hand to silence him.
    “First, I am made to leave my home and all that meant anything to me. We’ve traveled partway around the world to people we really didn’t know, and never once did anyone think to ask me how I felt or what I wanted.”
    She stepped toward Michael. Tears slipped unheeded down her cheeks. “You were the one sent to meet me?” She studied his face for a moment. “Did he pay you, Michael? Did he pay you to have dinner with me? To spend all that time with me? Did the two of you have a good laugh,” her voice caught, “when you discussed with him all that I’d shared with you in confidence? I trusted you, Michael. I really believed you understood how I felt. You grounded me when I felt so very lost.”
    She held out a staying hand when Michael reached for her. Slowly, he lowered his hands to his sides, a