The Midnight Rake

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The Midnight Rake Page 9

by Anabelle Bryant


  Chapter Nine

  Phineas returned to find his townhouse ensconced in silence. He arched a brow at Jenkins who remained in the front hall sifting through correspondence, the unspoken communication expressing his immediate question. Where is everyone? The sudden encompassing solitude unnerved him until Mon Ami squawked several times in succession. The high-pitched screech echoed through the peaceful foyer with such irritation Jenkins dropped a packet of envelopes. Phineas made a direct line for the back door, rubbing his temples and seeking respite in the gardens. His long strides ate up the pathway bringing him to the gazebo at the corner.

  “Phineas, how pleasant. Join us.” His mother motioned toward a seat beside Penelope, but no sooner did he enter the gazebo than a servant announced the arrival of Aubry’s tutor. Springing to her feet, Maman reached for Aubry’s hand as if leading a small child from the yard.

  “Good heavens, I had no idea of the time. Come along, Aubry, I do want to co-ordinate your schedule.”

  With hardly a by-your-leave, the ladies hurried toward the house, their faint conversation fading on the breeze as they left Phineas and Penny quite alone.

  By damn if he didn’t find himself in another undesirable situation. He didn’t want to enjoy her company, and the best way to achieve that goal was to avoid Penelope whenever possible.

  She leaned on the side banister of the wooden enclosure, the sunlight outlining her profile in softness as if an angel come to earth. Meanwhile his thoughts echoed suggestions from the devil.

  “We have been abruptly abandoned.” Phineas sought to keep his mouth moving with words, as a rush of desire urged him to cross the planked floor and kiss Penelope soundly. “Funny how that continues to happen.” His lips quirked with the wry mutter. Did Penelope notice his mother’s poorly veiled attempts at providing them privacy? Maman proved as cunning as a fox.

  He took a step then stopped. A litany in his brain persisted he pull her forward and kiss her senseless. How could he resist when she stood there an image of adorable loveliness? His blood heated with an unexplainable force that made no sense and yet rocked him to the core.

  He didn’t want any relationship with permanence.

  No wife, happy life.

  He struggled to re-establish his mental decorum as the wind stirred the leaves, a sibilant whisper against the gazebo roof.

  “Your mother has shown extraordinary kindness. I am grateful for her generosity. My sister and I are very happy here.”

  He slid his gaze upward with the unexpected admission. How was it possible her eyes were greener, sparkled more, their clear depths as intriguing as the color? And those freckles. He’d like to memorize the location of each one.

  “I want to thank you for helping me.” She tilted her head to the side and hemmed her bottom lip in a charming habit he knew as if his own. “And most of all, for being my friend.”

  Friend. The word alone was a bucket of cold water. Good, very good.

  He walked to the other side of the gazebo and mirrored her pose. “It’s the least I can do after understanding your predicament. Friends help one another.” What of this gentleman she sought? Was she promised to him? It could do no harm to fish around for answers. “So that I may help you further, why don’t you share a few more facts? All the better to determine the type of functions that will place you in this gentleman’s path.” Or not at all, having you avoid him completely. Then what would you do Penelope, if you could not find your mystery man?

  “There’s not very much to tell regarding his peerage or connections.” She finished with a feminine shrug although she struggled to conceal emotion. “He is definitely not expecting to see me. That’s certain.” She added this with emphatic confidence.

  “What does he look like? Maybe I have made his acquaintance.” Unable to harness his restlessness, Phineas paced the circumference of the gazebo, full knowing he would arrive at Penelope’s side. Did she smell like vanilla today? He no longer enjoyed dessert having discovered a sweeter reward.

  “He is tall, not as tall as you.” She tipped her head as she pivoted in his direction. “With a similar build, although your shoulders are much broader.”

  Phin adjusted his frame to maintain his best posture.

  “He is handsome, but not as…” Her words ended on a considerable hitch of breath.

  He had come full circle, and stood beside her, hopeful the remainder of her sentence aligned with the obvious. She appeared a little nervous, not at all in the same manner of only a few minutes earlier.

  “You were saying?” He looked down into her crystalline eyes and the decision was made. He would kiss her. Right then and there. Because he wanted to and he needed to and he was damn tired of always doing what was expected of him. How terribly mundane to follow the rules and never take what one wanted on impulse within the passion of the moment. Past experiences discounted. Penelope was nothing like other women he’d known, so one kiss would satisfy his curiosity and put it to bed. Poor choice of words.

  But while he muddled through these conclusions, Penny moved to the bench, her expression grave as if she contemplated serious matters. Damn it all to hell, was she thinking of the man she wished to locate? This man she claimed to love?

  Penelope stared into her skirt and wondered how she’d maintain a secretive position in her quest to locate Simon and also kiss Phineas, because as he studied her with those incredible amber eyes, the impulse thrumming in her veins suggested she throw herself into his arms and kiss his lips in a shameless expression of desire. Good lord, what would he think were she to do such a thing? She wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth upon hers. That delicious mouth with that divine cleft in his chin. It haunted her every daydream.

  She’d been kissed before. Simon initiated a reserved friendliness during their courtship. A mocking voice inside her insisted any affection she received in the past would pale greatly to the experience of kissing Phineas. Mostly due to the fact she would not be receiving, but actively participating in the kiss. Kisses. She poked the tip of her tongue out and nervously licked her lips. Who could ever accuse her of wantonness for succumbing to his rugged good looks?

  With her decision made, she rose in a swirl of skirts and met his amber gaze. He stood so close, spicy and male; she sensed his body heat and her heart melted.

  “Phineas?”

  He exhaled, his breath whispering past her cheek and her body reacted as if his hands skimmed over her skin with precious sensation.

  “Yes?”

  His voice, a low husky rumble from his chest, sent a prickling of anticipation skittering to the deepest part of her.

  “Would it be terribly rude if I asked you a favor?” Her words came out too fast, charging the air between them with impatient emotion.

  “Anything. Ask me anything.”

  His eyes glittered and when he swept a wayward piece of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushed her temple in a lingering caress. He tipped her chin with his fingertip, the pressure entrancing her with warmth and strength. Something unfurled within her, an anxious desire that begged to be fulfilled.

  “What is it you want, my sweet?”

  The silky rasp of his voice sent another little shiver across her skin, her senses acutely aware of the subtle distinction of the man standing above her. He was strong, solid muscle and male handsomeness, yet his touch was gentle.

  “You rescued us, providing for Aubry and me, when we were destined for dire straits only a week ago.” She matched his intense gaze and her pulse tripled. “Your mother brought us to your home unannounced and instead of turning us away, you’ve shown great generosity. You deserve a boon, some kind of reward.”

  “A boon?”

  Something flickered in his eyes. An idea? A mischievous impulse? She could never confess she yearned for him to ask for a kiss. Whenever she stared into his fathomless gaze, his eyes locked to hers, she lost all logical reason and her heartbeat hurtled, her breathing hitched.

  He leaned closer, as if
conspiring something of great importance. “I know the proper thing is to suggest a stroll in the gardens or a dance at the next social function, but I’m not feeling like a gentleman right now. If we’re baring souls, I find I’m far from the behavior of a gentleman whenever I’m near you.”

  “Oh.” A sudden rush of heat infused her cheeks.

  Somehow she managed a few steps backward until her bottom bumped the wooden balustrade. He braced one arm against the gazebo’s support boxing her in and shadowing them with his chiseled physique deliciously outlined by the strained fabric of his sleeves. They stood memorizing each other’s face as if nothing existed except their world within the precise moment.

  Breathe. She needed to breathe. Logic faltered and anticipation weighed down every effort. Would he kiss her? Should she allow it? Indignation was forgotten in favor of pleasure.

  He captured her cheek in his palm and she blinked hard, not wanting to miss the slightest detail. He lowered his mouth, his beautiful, sensual mouth, a whisper away from her own and with a sigh of surrender, her eyes fell closed with exquisite expectancy of Phineas Betcham, man of her dreams—

  “Phineas!”

  They sprang apart as Victoria Betcham’s voice broke through the hedgerow.

  The sound of her heeled slippers on the flagstones did not override the harsh expletives escaping Phineas as he stepped back to answer his mother’s bidding.

  “Dinner is ready. What could be taking the two of you so long?”

  Lady Fenhurst arrived and Penelope sent a silent prayer upward in hope she didn’t appear flushed with guilt. She pushed away from the railing, relieved her knees regained their constitution.

  “Yes, Maman, we are coming straight away.”

  He offered his arm, and Penelope tried to hide the way her hand trembled as she clasped on to steady herself, his muscles tight beneath her touch.

  They walked in silence, several steps behind his mother, toward the back entrance to the estate. Then Phineas turned; a smile slinked across his face and a charming twinkle in his eye.

  “My mother’s timing may have spoiled our moment, but you owe me a boon and I never forget a debt, sweet Penny. Of this particular debt, you can be sure.”

  Dinner ran with smooth elegance and Chef Pierre proved he’d missed the audience as dish after dish graced the table, each more delectable than the last. They finished the main entrée of poulet au vin blanc, but were it not to one’s liking the master chef had prepared twelve courses in all from thick soup to superfluous sauce. As was his specialty, there would be sugarplums and charlotte for dessert.

  Aubry excused herself from the table, her eyes proving bigger than her stomach. Mildly embarrassed, she left to recline in her bedchamber vowing to eat more moderately at the next meal.

  “I’m afraid my sister is not accustomed to such an assortment of delicacies and could not resist having a small taste of each.”

  Penelope attempted to make amends for Aubry’s need to leave the table but Phineas barely heard the words, too fascinated with Penny’s mouth. Her lips were the loveliest shade of pink ever seen and her bottom lip, so plump, begged to be kissed, licked, nibbled. He’d watched her hem it indecisively when considering a thoughtful response. He wouldn’t mind catching it between his teeth and having a taste. Now that he’d decided one kiss would purge him of his unexpected curiosity, his imagination ran rampant.

  His mother gave a blithe wave dismissing Penelope’s comment. “Do not worry. Nous la ferons un petit peu le français.”

  Phin chuckled at Penelope’s concerned expression. “Maman says she will help your sister become a little bit French while she lives here.”

  “Oh, thank you. You’ve rescued me again. I’m not fluent with the language.”

  She wrinkled her freckled nose and enhanced her beguiled expression. Phin hoped she didn’t feel embarrassment at the admittance. It took him years to master French and only then was he able to decipher his parent’s arguments with alacrity.

  “Don’t worry. I am happy to serve as translator whenever the need presents itself. My mother becomes passionate when discussing important topics.” Marriage, grandchildren. He dismissed the immediate suggestions and offered a reassuring smile.

  “As we all do. Now tell me, Penny, which course did you enjoy most?”

  Maman grew more animated by the minute. She relished discussing food as much as he enjoyed consuming it.

  “My goodness, I could never decide. Everything was so delicious, especially the poulet au vin blanc.” She pointed a tentative finger toward the steaming tureen of chicken and wine sauce as if unsure of her pronunciation.

  “That’s Phin’s favorite. How perfectly convenient! It is a decadent meal. How do you say it?” She turned in his direction. “Il fond dans votre bouche.”

  His fork paused, suspended halfway to his mouth. “My mother wishes to say it melts in your mouth.” He cleared his throat in an attempt to clear his mind. It was not a far leap for him to imagine tasting Penelope as if she were a meal to be devoured.

  “Oui, dès que vous avez un petit goût, vous voulez de plus en plus.”

  “That once you have a little taste you want more and more.” He forced a heavy swallow and snatched up his wine, curious if they still discussed the food. Between the tempting beauty seated across the table and the suggestive descriptions Maman needed translated, he would never make it through dessert without dragging Penelope upstairs to his bed. If his mother wasn’t present he would clear the table with one sweep and set Penny atop it.

  Appalled at the futility of the idea, Phin vowed to stop entertaining wicked fantasies. He took a deep breath and exhaled in measures. Glancing in Penelope’s direction, he noticed she too had her glass refilled and sipped wine with vigor.

  “Wait until dessert. It promises to be exquisite. Chef Pierre makes a charlotte so creamy and fulfilling, vous devriez mettre tout cela dans votre bouche!”

  “Maman!” Phineas threw his napkin down on the damask tablecloth and shot from his seat. “I am not going to suggest she put the whole thing in her mouth.”

  Across the table a fork clattered to the marble tiles.

  “Mon dieu! What is the matter with you?” Maman appeared shocked by his unexpected behavior.

  Reseating himself, he drew a long, steadying breath. “I think we understand how highly you regard the meal.” He sent his mother a sharp glare, wondering at her inconvenient ineptitude with English. He reclaimed his napkin with a mutter. “Perhaps you need to utilize Aubry’s language tutor as well.”

  Chapter Ten

  True to their planning, the next day Phineas and Devlin waited in the carriage as Penelope and Lexi shopped in the best milliner on Bond Street. Phin didn’t miss the gleam of delight that flittered across Penny’s face when he’d mentioned the outing. At times it would appear she experienced little joy in her lifetime and a deep-seated desire to offer her new experiences and protect her from disappointment added another layer of emotion to the complicated feelings he harbored.

  “What dark thoughts are you considering?” Devlin rapped him on the knee as he posed the question. “You look angrier than an elbow-crooker who’s run out of ale.”

  “Nothing.” Phin nodded with the curt answer. “So what was it you wished to discuss now that the ladies are busy spending a fortune on headwear?” He knew without a doubt Devlin would respect his abrupt change of subject and his friend proved on the mark.

  “Talk continues concerning Ridley. He hasn’t made good on the purchase price for Trump’s grey and much as we suspected, he bid without the funding needed. Nothing is more despicable than a liar.” Devlin glanced out the coach window keeping a diligent watch on the milliner’s doorway. “Harold said Ridley started a fistfight at White’s when he accused Richardson of cheating.”

  “Richardson? The man is as honest as a full day’s work.” Phineas huffed a breath of exasperation as he glanced out the window in turn. Their discussion of Ridley’s poor habits provoked h
is desire to see the ladies safely inside the carriage and under their protection. “Something about the man, other than the insult he poses against polite society, causes me to be wary of his actions.”

  “I agree. Ridley is collecting enemies at a rapid pace. We should have Con ask a few questions. He entertains the best connections when it comes to this sort of thing.” Devlin slapped his gloves against the banquette in a restless gesture.

  “True, but I’ve already put him out inquiring about Julia’s predicament.” Phineas eyed his friend, impatience lacing his words. “How many hats can there be in such a tiny shop?”

  “Too many to consider, unfortunately.” Devlin scanned the street for the umpteenth time. “When it comes to asking Con a favor, I assure you, he’ll happily oblige. We’re all friends. We take care of our own.”

  “Yes, I’ll mention it.” Phin dropped his gloves to the leather squabs before retrieving them a breath later. Then he tossed them aside and swatted Devlin’s knee. “Stretch your legs?”

  “About time you suggested it.” Devlin sent a prompt rap to the ceiling and the men left the carriage.

  Penelope slipped an exquisite Angouleme bonnet upon her head and tied the lavender ribbon at the side with a flourish. Trying on pretty hats was a new experience and one she soon realized became highly addictive. She turned to where Lexi admired her selection in the freestanding cheval glass. Her friend’s blonde hair contrasted beautifully with the delicate lace trim. Each hat appeared more breathtaking than the last. How would they ever decide?

  Penelope reverently placed the bonnet into the hands of the attentive shopkeeper. She glanced toward the large glass window and considered the time they’d spent in the millinery because she could get lost for hours amongst the ribbons and plumes, but doubted the men wanted to wait long in the carriage. Pleased by the prospect of their planned afternoon, she didn’t wish anything to spoil the day and a ripple of excitement played a smile across her lips.

 

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