The Midnight Rake

by Anabelle Bryant

  She did not object when he lowered the cloth from her delicate shoulder, nor did she protest when his teeth nipped the edge of her collarbone, his hot tongue soothing the rub. Instead she puddled in his arms, her breath high and fast, and it excited him more than any experienced woman or practiced paramour. Restless where to touch her first, his palms cupped her bottom and brought her against his hard cock, his thighs locking her in place. One hand swept her shoulder, the other pressed against the lacy sleeve of her night rail smoothing the trapped fabric downward, releasing her arm and exposing one perfect breast. He withdrew, his eyes assessing if she’d demand he stop.

  When she offered no objection, he lifted her, his mouth finding her breast, his tongue lathing the sweet delicate skin before his teeth drew at the peak with ardent attention. She moaned at the touch of his breath against her wet skin and the small sound broke all hold on his control. He captured her again, his hot mouth playing wickedly on her soft flesh as she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him fast. She tasted exquisite, a delicacy of which he could never get enough.

  The lantern flickered, as if the oil and wick were nearly spent.

  He released her as quickly as he’d claimed her and while his breathing remained ragged, he found the momentary sanity to offer her one last opportunity to escape.

  “You should go.” His eyes matched hers with heated promise and his panted utterance warned he’d bear no responsibility of the choices thereafter.

  “I don’t want to leave, I don’t…”

  “This isn’t about wanting!” He cut into her plea and spat the retort, his words fierce in the silence. He had no intention of arguing with her, but his resolve was broken. He’d be damned if he didn’t back her up to the stable wall and take her like a common doxy. And Penelope was too good for that. It made everything concerning what he felt for her wrong. Hell and damnation, what did he feel for her? It was so much more than the strain of his cock against his small clothes. He wanted to protect her, cherish her. He loved her. The odd mixture of emotions threatened to snap the last vestiges of his temper. He’d vowed never to fall into this trap and now he was snared.

  He closed his eyes in an effort to regain control. When he opened them, she’d righted her gown, her face an expression of equivocation. Methodically, he donned the clean shirt that he’d dropped, choosing his words with care, not wishing to make the situation any more discomposing.

  “You are my guest. I gave you my word to assist you in gaining entry into events of the ton so you might find the man who stole your family’s wealth and caused you pain. Forgive me for breaking that trust.”

  Her expression faltered before she raised her hand in humble supplication. “How do you know this? Who told you about Simon?”

  The devastation on her face cooled his ardor. He damn nearly stripped her bare and she did not object until he mentioned his knowledge of her history. He would never break the hold this man kept on her heart.

  His mind spun, cataloging every acquaintance with the name Simon. No ready face came to mind. The only gentlemen who shared the name were married, aged or dead. He was surprised to learn about her fiancé from Elizabeth, but to have her so willing in his arms, only for Penelope to confirm her heart was given elsewhere proved a bitter tonic.

  When he did not answer, she repeated her question.

  “Did someone tell you about him or have I?”

  Something besides curiosity colored her voice. Shame? The consideration didn’t make any sense and he cast it aside. “You did.”

  He exhaled deeply as she rushed away.

  He owed her no answers. She omitted so much of the truth, from their initial meeting and ever after, anger prevented understanding on her part. Worse for it, he craved her, his quick taste of her delectable body fueled the ever-present condition of wanting her like a fever in his blood. Honor bound, he had no choice but to protect her, knowing at the end of it all she would run away much the way she just did.

  Aubry started to awareness as soon as the door opened. She yawned and stretched atop the sunbathed chaise in the farthest corner of the salon to shake away the last remnants of sleep. Fatigued from her rigorous schedule of tutoring, she’d sought a short respite, but now curled up on the cushioned settee she realized no one would notice her unless she made her presence known. Set to remedy the situation, she paused when she heard her sister’s name mentioned as two women began a fast-paced conversation.

  “Yes, I am talking about Penelope. Certainly it is not uncommon for a man to elevate through marriage, a lady of low connections or untitled family.” Victoria Betcham’s voice sounded without its usual cheerfulness although she spoke to one of her closest friends.

  “That is not what I question. We are discussing two different subjects altogether. I came here to chat about the jewelry piece she claims to have lost. I made a few inquiries and the story behind the brooch Penelope described may be of interest to you.”

  Aubry heard the rattle of china as someone entered with a tea tray. The usual pleasantries bantered about while the servant poured the refreshment, but as soon as the door clicked shut Lady Fenhurst’s voice rose in response to her friend’s earlier statements.

  “I want to hear everything you have to say, without a doubt. Mon dieu, you can be as impatient as Phineas, but first I wish to tell you the reason I asked you to visit.”

  Aubry squeezed her hands together in anticipation.

  “Phineas is in love.”

  “That is what you wish to share? Good heavens, while I am thrilled for this announcement as it brings you one step closer to your goal of bouncing grandchildren upon your knee, I cannot imagine it warranted a morning call. Pray tell me there is more to this story.”

  “Of course there is more.” Victoria sounded affronted. “My son is in love, but I am not sure he knows what to do about it.”

  The two women shared a light laugh and then Lady Fenhurst said something in French that Aubry could not decipher. She swore a little oath even though she’d only had a few basic lessons. Riveted to the conversation, she swayed forward straining to hear each syllable uttered regardless of the language.

  “I am sure, as always, you have a ready plan. What do you intend to do? Penelope is more than beautiful and that she is totally unaware enhances the quality. Regardless of this mystery man she seeks, the time spent with you has only improved her becoming appearance. Have you noticed how she’s filled out in all the right places?” Dorothy continued, a softness in her voice. “But have you considered her feelings? She is here seeking her missing beau. She must care deeply for the man to travel so far, displace herself and her sister, and entreat your family’s assistance. It’s not a condition to be taken lightly. I would hate for Phineas to care for her if the feelings proved unrequited. The last time…” Her words dropped off as if nothing else need be explained.

  “Merci, Dorothy, I need your counsel. I know my son has developed deep feelings for Penelope. It is evident in every way, no matter how hard he attempts to disguise it. I’ve raised him as a gentleman of the highest cut. He’s honorable and punctilious in every sense of the word.”

  A marked pause in the conversation kept Aubry on high alert.

  “Yet for all his gentlemanly manners and tough exterior, my son has hidden depths. He’s done an excellent job of burying past experience and unfulfilled emotion, but I know him as well as a mother should and he cares deeply for Penelope. That is where the conundrum begins. He would not dare act upon his desires while the lady remains involved in this inconvenient search.”

  “Inconvenient? I’m sure she doesn’t consider it so. The other day during tea she sounded most vehement in finding the gentleman as soon as possible.”

  Aubry shook her head in agreement.

  “Yes, but to what end? I see the way she looks at Phineas. It is not possible her heart is given to another when her admiration reads so easily whenever she glances in his direction.”

  Silence stretched and Aubry wo
ndered if the conversation had ended, but then Lady Fenhurst continued, her voice melancholic. “And when Phineas looks at her, most especially when he thinks no one is watching, I see such profound adoration in his eyes, a possessiveness not born of lust or frivolity.” A lonely sigh escaped. “It reminds me of how I was once viewed.”

  The room sustained a prolonged quiet until Victoria dismissed the conversation with a soft laugh.

  “But my past is of no importance. I will see Phineas happy, no matter the complications. I have Elizabeth Bretton and her mother to contend with in addition to this Simon situation. Elizabeth and Phineas would never suit. The Brettons are climbers, but that you already know.”

  Aubry strained to hear the hushed conversation that followed but she couldn’t decipher a word.

  Finally Lady Fenhurst’s voice returned to normal. “It is complicated, but now it becomes interesting. Phineas will be easy to manage. I am afraid I will have a devil of a time with Julia when the time comes. My son has always possessed a generous heart. In the end, he will listen to it.”

  “Whatsoever are you thinking? How will you manage to bring them together?” Dorothy’s voice echoed more than intrigue.

  “I knew the minute I laid eyes on Penelope she would be the one to capture his heart. She has a unique quality about her, a je ne sais quoi, not learned or instilled. And Phineas enjoys nothing more than the role of rescuer. Even as a lad he was forever bringing home little injured animals to nurture. I can only imagine the lengths he will go to claim the woman he loves.”

  “I agree. Let’s walk in the gardens. The day is clear and I have much to tell you. It may prove useful in solving at least one aspect of this planned love affair.”

  The door closed and Aubry remained motionless. Her thoughts reeled with the conversation she’d overheard and soon her feet were moving just as fast as she ran to Penelope’s bedchamber.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Determined to return sanity to his life, Phineas strode to the stable, anxious to have Abacus saddled and visit Elizabeth. He replayed his morning conversation with Constantine. The Trumpington horse had been stolen during the night and all leads indicated Ridley perpetuated the theft. The cur remained in debt with every club owner, chip holder and establishment in London. Desperate men did foolish things. Trump’s horse would fetch a huge sum, whether sold honestly or through circumspect sources, and if Ridley could be found with the grey, proving his guilt would be all the easier.

  Phin worked at fitting together the ill-begotten pieces to the puzzle, all the while keeping the one article of jewelry linked directly to Ridley in his possession. He touched the cameo tucked inside his waistcoat pocket. He would have a jeweler examine it with his loupe for distinguishing engravings. Perhaps it held a clue to the unlikely circumstances intruding on his life, no matter it should be returned to its rightful owner.

  Late afternoon approached and he regretted his impromptu visit with Elizabeth would be limited. He’d promised his mother he would serve as escort this evening, recalling with resentment the hopeful glint in Penelope’s eyes as soon as Maman mentioned the affair. He shook his head to dispel the unpleasantness. The sooner Penny’s need of him ran its course, the better.

  The butler showed him into the drawing room when he presented his card. The cheerful room, decorated in light hues of yellow ochre with bookcases against one wall and large paned windows lining the other, allowed the waning sunlight to herald the approaching dusk.

  Refreshments were arranged and the lady of the house chaperoned from afar, anxious to provide as much privacy as possible and simultaneously encourage any impropriety effectuating a change in her daughter’s marital status. Phineas read all the signs with ease and quirked a knowing smile. Living with Maman provided an education not found in text books.

  Salutations followed and he watched Elizabeth arrange her skirts on the settee with great impatience. When he finally held her attention, he spared not a breath beginning his request.

  “It’s a pleasure to be in your company again.” Phineas knew he should offer more in way of conversation, but the desire to have his questions answered dominated all coherent thought. “Forgive my forwardness as I’m in need of your assistance concerning your cousin’s foolhardy plan. It occurred to me I may be reaching too high in pursuit of this unknown gentleman and have committed a misstep in escorting Penelope to the most sought-after invitations within the ton. If your description of this character is correct, he possesses a darker nature. Neither one of us would abide Penelope entering any establishment that would besmirch her reputation. Am I correct?” He tried to exemplify interest, frustrated with the preamble of conversation necessary. He wanted nothing more than to demand immediate answers.

  Elizabeth looked at him with a curious expression. He couldn’t decipher if she considered the directness of his approach or debated how to answer. She flattened her lips in contemplation before assembling her reply. “I’ll help you any way I’m able, but I cannot break my vow. Penny promised to assist me with a matter most important. It wouldn’t be fair to expect her to keep her word if I did not keep mine.”

  Phineas expected nothing less than loyalty, but he was willing to negotiate even if he were the goods to be bartered. Foolish female. “As before, I will be more than amenable to arrange whatever you wish if it’s within my power to do so.”

  He spoke with candor, taken aback when Elizabeth smiled in triumph, a devious gleam in her eyes.

  “La, I could never ask you forthright.” Her fingers played on the handle of her teacup and her insolence could not go unnoticed.

  “I insist. I am at once at your disposal.” Phineas leaned forward to implore his dedication to the task, his vehemence exacerbating the lady’s condition. “Tell me what you know and I’ll comply with your request.”

  They remained in pensive silence, Phineas lost in deliberation of the decisions to be made, while the lady planned her price. Time was of the essence and he rose to leave.

  “I cannot reveal the name of the man, but I will reveal everything I know to help locate him. He runs with a fast crowd. Penelope described him as tall and outspoken, with dark eyes and dark hair. Oh, and there was something else. She mentioned a misplaced patch of white hair at his temple. Would that help you distinguish him?”

  He jerked to attention, uncertain if his ears deceived him. Then as Elizabeth repeated the description, he mumbled excuses, his determined strides eating up the carpet as he raced from the room.

  Penelope did a visual sweep of the elaborate entrance hall, searching for any sign of Simon, desperate to find him and put her misery to rest. Her initial intention to visit Elizabeth and confess she could not keep her promise was thwarted once Aubry rushed into her bedchamber with words overflowing. While she could never condone eavesdropping, no harm was done. Providence held Aubry captive when the ladies settled in the room to discuss Phin’s affections. Much to her dismay, the news thrilled and saddened her heart.

  To be accepted by Lady Fenhurst and defended by Lady Livingston were gifts beyond value, but to be loved by Phineas, as his mother proposed; why, the thought caused Penelope’s head to spin faster than the guests waltzing across the ballroom’s parquetry. Still the same impossible chasm kept them apart. She needed to find Simon. Confronting the blackguard and regaining her pride was the only way she would ever be free to tell Phineas she shared his feelings.

  Phineas. He hadn’t returned to the house in time to serve as escort and Lady Fenhurst displayed her anger in open mutters of distress, mostly spoken in French. Penelope discerned Phin specifically instructed his mother to accept Lord Holcombe’s invitation. The modest estate, situated on the outskirts of the city, was unknown to the Countess and she had little to share about the evening’s host other than she’d rather not attend. It all perpetuated the confusion enveloping her during their carriage ride tonight.

  Now, her silent musings led her across the main hall in a direct line to the ballroom at the rear. Music stra
ined through the night air and champagne flowed. Servants darted about with trays of savouries and assorted sweetmeats, candelabras burned bright amidst exquisite hothouse flower arrangements decorating every available surface, but none of this held her attention for long. She examined the dance floor for a second time. Couples enjoyed a promenade and she turned her attention to the perimeter of the room in an effort to inspect every guest in attendance.

  A brash burst of laughter drew her eyes to a corner near the refreshment area. Gentlemen in black evening dress conversed closest to the wall, their backs in her line of sight. A single gentleman stood out amongst the others. His waistcoat, a shade paler and his knee breeches, not of the same superfine quality, announced his presence as irregular. When he angled his head, she caught a glimpse of his profile and her heart stopped beating altogether.

  Her posture tight and furious, Penelope fisted her hands at her sides and cemented her determination. Finally, she’d confront the man who singlehandedly brought about such tragic despair that her father had died from the strain. Months of meager living and worrisome nights fortified each unwavering step as she made her way across the tiles. The country dance ended and the orchestra stressed a final note before conversation and laughter welled in volume. The room grew infinitely more crowded.

  Moral fiber prevented her from rushing upon the surreptitious lout. She’d vowed not to become emotional, heaven forbid hysterical, and ruin the opportunity to resolve her past and ensure her future. Everything came down to this significant moment.

  With unexpected ease, Simon turned toward her, his face a mask of blue and black, the bruising most startling against his sudden paled reaction. For one fleeting moment, sympathy replaced anger, but the sentiment did not last. She matched his eyes, devoid of all emotion other than surprise. Malevolence darkened their depths.

  When Simon made no move, she swallowed a knot of trepidation and took the final steps required.

  Constantine intercepted her path. He shook his head in silent warning, his face an expression of grave seriousness, but nothing would deter her and Penelope tossed him a brief look of confusion before moving beyond his reach. She stood amidst Simon’s grouping, her hands trembling.