He reclaimed the cameo as a rush of conflicted feelings gathered in his mind. Dorothy Livingston remained a dear family friend, but Penelope, the keeper of his heart, meant more to him than any one person in the world.
He wrapped the pin in his linen handkerchief and slid it into his pocket. Once he reconciled everything concerning the matter, Penelope could speak with Dorothy and help her understand the heirloom’s significance to the Rosebery family.
“I will tell my mother you are waiting here.” He smiled at her warmly. “Thank you for all your help.”
He walked to the entry hall, his mind muddled by the morning’s hectic turn of events, and there nearly collided with Jenkins.
“Please inform my mother Lady Livingston awaits.” He paused, a long exhale in order. “And the Rosebery ladies, Jenkins? Where might I find the lovely sisters this morning?”
“Miss Penelope is observing her sister’s dance lesson, my lord. I escorted the instructor in not thirty minutes ago.”
“Thank you, good man.” His words trailed behind him as he made long strides to find Penny. His body hummed with anticipation, while his mind replayed images of their sweet ecstasy the night before.
He stepped into the room, Penelope’s name on his lips, and he barely had a chance to catch her eye before the instructor called him to the floor, a mixture of pleasure and relief displayed on the master’s face.
“Lord Betcham, your timing is perfection.” The older man beamed as he motioned Phineas forward.
The furniture had been moved to the perimeter of the room and a large carpeted area remained open as a makeshift dance floor. The instructor stood at the center, Aubry waiting at his side.
“Lady Aubry would benefit from seeing particular dance patterns in motion. While I can instruct her in the intricate steps, to understand the fluidity of a glissade or pas de basque she must observe the movement within the flow of the dance. Would you be so kind to participate before the lesson ends?”
Phineas smiled, but he had no intention of dancing with Aubry. He stifled a wicked smile and turned to the fetching young woman who sat demurely on the chair by the doorway. He extended his arm in invitation and they took to the floor, their natural elegance within the formation a whispered echo of how in tune their bodies played only hours before. When he clasped her hand, a shiver ran through her and his grin broke loose. He hoped she conjured the same images as he. With Aubry and her instructor conversing on the side of the room, their keen attention focused on dance steps, it was more the pity he could not sweep Penny forward for another delicious taste of her lips.
“It is scandalous, how late into the day I’ve slept. You are trying to ruin me.” Penelope tried her best to scold Phin for the transgression but there was no way she could sustain the stern tone. She smiled up at the man holding her with grace within his strong arms. How utterly euphoric to be unfettered by guilt and despair now that she’d shared the burden of her past. Their sensual interlude felt absolutely heavenly, but the relief of sharing her secrets proved meaningful in a way she could never describe.
“I adore you, Penelope.”
His amber eyes fixed on hers as if he looked straight into her heart. If he was able, he would see only love reflected there. Another smile blossomed. She had no way to stop it, as if her happiness forced itself out from within. His hand, resting at her back, played loosely in the lengths of her hair and the intimacy of his caress caused her pulse to quicken.
“You have been the answer to all my wishes and I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such good fortune, but I’ll be thankful every day from now on.”
“May I suggest a few ways to convey your gratitude?” He flashed another wicked grin.
Her eyes drifted to his lips, the same lips that had explored her body in immeasurable detail, and the erotic remembrance caused her to miss a step. She tried to recover, but he stalled her with his laughter and then Jenkins entered and while the dance instructor took his leave, the butler presented a package wrapped in plain brown paper.
“This arrived at the door, my lady.”
Aubry rushed to where they stood, curiosity the likely motivator.
“And the card?” She turned the large box over but no markings were visible, as with the first package she received over two weeks before.
“I’m afraid there is none.”
As Jenkins left, she sat down and placed the box on her lap. Her fingers worked at the string closure, but then Phineas stepped forward with a small knife he’d produced from his pocket and sliced through the string efficiently.
“Do hurry and open it. I can’t wait to see what’s inside.” Aubry hovered over the box in anticipation.
“I’m not sure I want to know. Who could be sending me presents?” Penelope murmured as she flicked her eyes to Phin where he stood staring out the window.
Aubry, quick to speculate, offered an idea. “Maybe Cousin Lizzie thought to gift you.”
Penelope let out an inelegant scoff. “Without a card announcing her intention? I think not. Lizzie would want everyone to know so she could take full credit of her generosity.” She paused as she discarded the wrapper and raised the lid of the hardboard box.
“Then what about Carrick? Do you think…”
“I’d prefer we didn’t mention that little troll.” Fully aware of the conversation, Phineas interjected as he approached.
With great care, Penny set the lid on the floor and pushed aside the thin paper liner. “Oh, they’re lovely.”
Aubry’s voice sounded filled with awe and Penelope understood why. A pair of the finest chocolate brown boots lay nestled in the box. Their sleek wooden heels glistened and a row of neatly covered buttons lined up the kidskin in the latest fashion. They were the most wonderful boots she’d ever seen, never mind hoped to own.
“They are beautiful,” She took the top boot from the box and placed the carton on the floor. Then removing her slipper, she began to unbutton the fasteners of the boot when Phineas knelt before her. He placed her stocking-covered foot atop his thigh and gently removed the boot from her grasp.
“Allow me.”
He made quick work of unbuttoning the shaft before angling it delicately and slipping her foot inside.
“Oh, I do hope they fit you. They’re too breathtaking to be of no use.”
Penelope’s lips quirked at her sister’s heartfelt reaction.
Phin commented as he stood. “They’ll fit. I’m sure of it.”
She didn’t understand how he could be so sure, but as soon as her feet were well planted inside the boots she found him to be correct.
“They feel as if they were made for me, they fit so perfectly.” She tore her eyes from the boots and looked to Phin’s handsome face. It took only a heartbeat for comprehension to dawn.
The scoundrel had the audacity to wink and her heart turned over. The man in front of her, rescuer of her future and owner of her affection, deserved more than a perfunctory thank you formed from words. Unfortunately little could be expressed with Aubry standing near.
Penny walked to where Phin waited, her eyes never leaving his amber gaze. “Aubry, please do me a favor and fetch my ivory embroidered gloves from upstairs.” She spoke to her sister, but held Phin’s gaze with adoration. Their eyes communicated on a whole different level, reliving their earlier intimacy and making secret promises for the future. “I do wish to see how well they match my new boots.” She glanced to her toes peeking from the edge of her day gown and then turned and offered her sister an entreating smile. “And please do not return until you have found them. I must know if my gloves match perfectly.”
Aubry rushed from the room happy to do her bidding and Penelope took the steps needed to bring her scandalously close to Phin, her heartbeat thundering in her chest. What words could ever express her overwhelming sentiment?
“Thank you for this wonderful gift.” She took the smallest step closer, the slimmest fraction from his delicious lips. His head tilted, only a hair’s breadth, the sc
ant space between them quickly evaporating.
“I don’t know why you’re thanking me. You said the package came with no card.”
She could feel the soft heat of his words and something akin to excitement unfurled in her stomach, and lower, awakening desire all over again. She placed her palms flat against the wall of his chest and the deep thud of his heart beneath her palm beat in tune with her own. Arousal flittered through her, tempting her to be naughty.
“Penelope.” The word of warning was more romantic murmur. “Your sister may return at any time.” Without fail, he sought to protect her.
“I doubt it.” She sighed with gratification and slid her hands up to his shoulders. They were incredibly strong shoulders. Here was a man who would protect her and carry her troubles as surely as he carried his own. “Aubry is looking for my ivory embroidered gloves, is she not?”
He nodded in answer, his eyes fixed upon her lips.
“Well.” She couldn’t keep the smile from her voice. “Those gloves are here in my pocket.”
“You little minx, sending your sister on a fool’s errand so I might capture a kiss.”
He began a slow descent to her mouth, but she objected promptly. “It would be shamelessly poor manners to take advantage of this situation. I’m unchaperoned and helplessly alone.”
She’d gone up on tippy-toe. Their lips separated by a breath, a sweet enticement, the charming cleft in his chin, each element of their embrace perfectly in place. She grabbed the ends of his collar. “Good thing I’ve never been a stickler for etiquette.” And Penelope brought her mouth to his.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lightheaded from their stolen kisses, Penelope meandered into the front hall a short time later. Phineas left to pursue an errand and she bade him goodbye with a blissful smile, the intensity of his kiss stinging her lips with pleasure. With the intention of going above stairs to find Aubry and call off the search for her gloves, she entered the foyer as the door opened and a squeal of delight rang out. A petite young lady swept into the hall and bolted to embrace Jenkins with affection. Not intending to gawk, Penny noted the visitor’s perfectly coiffed hair, a similar shade to Phin’s, and her impeccable traveling habit, the ideal shade of yellow.
The visitor approached and clasped her hands within her own, words tumbling out faster than Penny could follow.
“You must be Penelope. My mother wrote me about your visit with your sister. I’m so happy to meet you. I’m Julia Betcham.”
The vivacious greeting proved a little overwhelming and as Julia linked her arm, Aubry entered the foyer anxious to investigate the noise and commotion. Introductions followed and the three ladies advanced to the parlor where Jenkins assured refreshments would arrive with haste. They fell into friendly conversation and tea was served as Julia turned to Aubry, a mischievous smile on her lips.
“Is it true my mother hired Monsieur André to teach you French? He’s a terribly strict taskmaster. Phineas and I never made him proud as we struggled through the language.”
Julia appeared as affable as her brother and Penny warmed with the sudden thought if everything resolved neatly, she would gain not just a new friendship, but a sister of the heart in kind to Lady Fenhurst’s relationship with Dorothy Livingston.
Aubry’s implicit smirk answered Julia’s question. With a little breath she launched into a few stilted sentences to showcase what she had learned so far.
“Bonjour, Mademoiselle Julia, chère amie.”
Julia’s giggle escaped, but she tried to stifle the rest of her laughter. “Oh no, you didn’t mean that.” She leaned over and grasped Aubry’s hand in an encouraging squeeze, her sunny disposition contagious. “What did you want to say?”
“Oh dear, I meant to express we would be great friends. It’s the same phrase your brother uses when speaking to my sister. I have it right, do I not?”
Aubry glanced in her direction and Penny nodded in affirmation, an impish smile revealed as she tried to explain. “Aubry and I thought it implied friendship. I do consider your brother a good friend.”
A glint of delight sparkled in Julia’s eyes. “My, now this is interesting. My brother may consider you more than a friend. I daresay Phineas would never use the words chère amie lightly. Are you sure it’s what he called you?”
There was no denying Julia’s hopeful smile, but there was also no mistaking his words. Phineas used the phrase more than once whenever they’d shared a tender moment. Penelope remembered each occurrence as if engraved upon her heart.
“Yes, I’m certain, and now more than curious. If the term doesn’t mean dear friend, please tell us the translation.” She placed her hand atop her sister’s where it rested on the chaise. Could she dare dream it a term of endearment? A whisper of true affection?
“Chère amie does imply friendship, but the most intimate kind. It means cherished loved one. A man would never use the term lightly, most especially my brother. If Phineas confessed emotion, I know he’s smitten. He’s never told a falsehood in his life. The words could only come straight from his heart.” She paused, her smile lessening the smallest bit before she continued. “Well, I couldn’t be happier. Of course, that is, as long as you feel the same.”
Penelope’s eyes flared at the path of the conversation, but then with opportune timing the Countess rushed into the room. A flurry of disorder followed. Ecstatic her daughter had arrived, Lady Fenhurst could not ask questions quickly enough nor wait for the answers.
“You look wonderful. Brighton has proven the answer for your melancholy.” She hugged Julia for the third time. “You received your brother’s letter? He explained everything to you?”
Julia’s easy smile faltered and Penelope realized mother and daughter wished for time alone. She nabbed Aubry’s hand and they excused themselves, hurrying upstairs to discuss their new friend and more to the point, the interesting French words chère amie.
Much to Penelope’s disappointment, Phineas did not return for dinner and sent word he’d been detained. They may have shared a bevy of delightful kisses that morning, but she yearned to see him again. Dinner conversation was lively though and all four ladies found a great deal of laughter when, in the middle of the dessert course, Mon Ami fluttered to the table and perched on Lady Fenhurst’s high-backed dining chair, scaring the Countess out of her wits with a squawk of the highest decibel. Everyone was startled, and Penny secretly wished Phineas could have enjoyed the scene. It was the first time she ever heard Lady Fenhurst refer to the parrot in less than flattering terms, French or no French. Jenkins managed to lure the bird into its cage using a seedcake to gain his interest. Then the cage door was wired shut now that Mon Ami had learned a new trick.
Later when everyone dispersed for the evening, Penelope meandered through the townhouse, unsettled and curious about Phin’s prolonged absence. She couldn’t keep him from her thoughts for more than two minutes, didn’t he miss her even a smidgeon? With a furtive glance over her shoulder to spy servants in sight, she climbed the backstairs full knowing it was wrong to walk past his bedchamber door, yet she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“Penny, what are you doing up here?”
Good heavens, she forgot Julia shared the floor. She whipped around and tripped over her words to form a suitable excuse. “Oh my, I must have been daydreaming. I walked right past my door…”
Julia’s brow furrowed in confusion as she stepped from her bedchamber.
“And up the stairs, and into this hallway…” Penelope backed away, her slippers catching on the plush hall runner. “Silly me. I need to get my head out of the clouds.”
Julia smiled, a large knowing smile, but Penny wasted no more time and turned so abruptly her skirts curled around her legs as she dashed down the hall.
She was out of breath when she neared her bedchamber, but before she could calm, an arm shot from the shadows, catching her around the waist and reeling her in.
“Aah, there you are,” Phineas murmured, as thoug
h he’d found her by accident.
She was pulled flush against him and dragged back into the shadows with lightning finesse. The anticipation that built during the day, her hope to see him, to kiss him again, burst like a firework once lit. His arm tightened around her waist when she made no reply, but truly, she needed a minute to digest the wonderful sensations flooding every point of her body.
“Phineas.” Her hushed whisper was further muffled against the cloth of his cravat. He loosened his hold, but the heat of his body remained. “You missed dinner.”
“I missed you.” He nibbled at her neck, his hot mouth finding an especially sensitive area. “And I’m starved. You have no idea.”
She grinned, her heart full.
“What are you smiling about?” His words vibrated against her throat, the tantalizing sensation humming over her skin as his lips continued to explore.
Somehow his hands moved to her ribcage and were making steady progress upward. She needed to stop him, after all they were in the hallway and anyone might happen upon them.
“Aubry is in the drawing room reading French to my mother.”
He read her thoughts effectively then his thumbs passed over her nipples, now pebbled and tight against her bodice, and she bit her lip to force back a moan of pleasure.
“No wonder that bottom lip is so delectable. You’re always mistreating it. Here, let me see.” He captured her mouth in a ravenous kiss, nothing at all like the pleasant ones from earlier in the day.
There was no mistaking the intention of this kiss.
She melted against him and answered his invitation, her hands sliding up his arms, delighting in the taut flex of muscle beneath her touch, the cloth of his waistcoat pulled tight. She loved the feel of him, reveled in his masculinity, the sheer physicality of his body, so elegant one often forgot his exceptional strength.
She kissed him back with all the yearning she’d hidden, all the emotion she’d buried, as their hot breath mingled in want, and his hands spanned her waist to hold her in place. Pleasure burned through her with each stroke of his tongue, beginning at her mouth and pooling in her core. She moved her legs against his in a restless motion and he thrust his thigh to part her skirts, allowing her to slide closer still. His hands dragged over her gown, the silk rustling and smoothing, the sound as enticing as the power of his hold and the unrelenting hunger of his mouth.
The Midnight Rake Page 23
