Seducing an Angel Read Online Free Page B

was her mask, her heavy widow’s weeds her domino. She could see out—dimly—but no one could see in.
    It was surely as hot as hell beneath the black clothes and the veil.She waited hopefully for clouds to cover the sun, but they were few and far between.
    The whole of the beau monde must be squashed into this really quite small segment of Hyde Park. She had forgotten what the fashionable hour was like. Not that she had ever been a part of it. She had married young, and she had never had a come-out or an accompanying Season. Her eyes moved over all the ladies in the crowd and noted their bright, fashionable, costly attire. But it was not upon them that she focused her attention. They meant nothing to her.
    It was at the gentlemen that she looked closely and consideringly. There were many of them, all ages and sizes and conditions. A few of them looked back at her despite her disguise, which must be singularly unappealing. She saw none she particularly fancied. Not that she had to fancy the man who was going to put money into her empty coffers.
    Her attention caught and held upon two particular gentlemen, not just because they were both young and handsome, though they were , but because there was such a startling contrast between them that she felt she was looking at the devil and an angel.
    The devil was the older of the two. She would put him in his middle thirties if she had to guess. He was very dark of both hair and complexion, with a handsome, rather harsh face and eyes that looked black. It seemed to her that he might be a dangerous man, and she shivered slightly despite the terrible heat in which she was enclosed.
    The angel was younger—probably younger than she. He was golden blond and classically handsome, with regular features and an open, good-humored face. His mouth and eyes—she was sure they were blue—looked as though they smiled frequently.
    Her eyes lingered on him. He looked tall and graceful in the saddle, well-muscled legs showing to advantage in tight buff riding breeches and black leather boots as they hugged the sides of his mount. He looked slender but well formed in his dark greenclose-fitting riding coat. It molded itself to his frame, and she knew that it must have taken all of his valet’s strength to get him into it.
    Angel and devil had both noticed her and were looking—the devil boldly and appreciatively, the angel with what looked like sympathy for her widowhood.
    But then they were distracted by the sight of someone they knew—two people actually, a very fashionable lady on horseback and her companion, a man who was mockingly handsome.
    The angel smiled.
    And perhaps sealed his doom.
    Something about him suggested an innocence to match his angelic looks. He was no doubt a very wealthy man indeed—Cassandra had just realized that the women behind her were talking about him.
    “Oh,” one of them said with a sigh, “there is the Earl of Merton with Mr. Huxtable. Have you ever seen a more gorgeous man than he? And all that wealth and property to go with the looks. As well as the title. And golden hair and blue eyes and good teeth and a charming smile. It does not seem fair that one man should have so much. If I were just ten years younger—and single again.”
    They all laughed.
    “I think I would prefer Mr. Huxtable,” one of the others said. “In fact, I know I would. All that brooding darkness, and those Greek looks. I would not mind if he set his boots beneath my bed one of these days when Rufus was gone.”
    There were shrieks of shocked glee from her companions, and Cassandra noticed when she glanced at Alice that her lips had thinned almost to the point of disappearing altogether and that there were two spots of color high in her cheeks.
    Angel and innocence and wealth and aristocracy, Cassandra thought. Could there be a more potent mix?
    “I am either about to melt in a puddle on the path,” she said, “or explode into a million pieces. Neither of which is something I