The Midnight Rake

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The Midnight Rake Page 25

by Anabelle Bryant

“Jenkins, I need Abacus. Have the grooms removed his saddle?” He bounded down the steps to pause near the entryway lowboy and scribble a missive while he questioned the distressed butler.

  “No, my lord, I will call for your horse at once.”

  “And have this dispatched.” He thrust the folded foolscap toward the servant and took firm hold of the door.

  “Phineas!” His mother’s voice rang through the foyer. “What is all this commotion?”

  He could see Maman leaning over the top balustrade, her expression grave with concern.

  “Nothing to worry about.” He strove to produce a steady tone, though his mind raced in a myriad of directions. “I will explain later.”

  He spared not another minute, angry at the thought of wasted time. About to take his leave, a young boy appeared on the doorstep, out of breath as if he’d run a long distance.

  “I have a message,” The lad pitched his arm forward, a white note clutched in his hand. “For Viscount Fenhurst.”

  The urchin, reluctant to release the paper until Phin produced a shilling, flew from the steps as Phineas tore into the envelope. “Damnation, he means to bargain with me for Penny’s return. The devil take him before I see her hurt.” He issued orders, the butler dodging his heels, as he grabbed the reins of his horse. “Have my note sent to Wharncliffe with expedience. It’s a matter of life and death.”

  Twisting her gloves in nervous contemplation, Penelope waited on the corner where the hired hackney left her. Her eyes scanned the road for Simon’s carriage. So far, everything proved true to his word. The hack showed at the Fenhurst townhouse as the note stated and when the driver reached the center of town, she had no choice but to follow his directions and disembark to wait for another conveyance. Had she made a terrible mistake by agreeing to meet Simon? Misgivings shivered down her spine.

  When she’d received Simon’s note and saw the waiting hack outside the window, she’d acted without pause, overcome by the goal of recovering her mother’s cameo and recouping her father’s savings. She realized now she should have practiced more coherent reasoning and left word for Phineas. The urgency of Simon’s note and his insistence she come alone set her into motion, but no one knew her location and that realization instigated ill-ease.

  Before she could torture herself further, a brown four-in-hand pulled to the corner and the square shuttered window opened from the side. Simon was seated within. The telltale white patch of hair at his temple ensured his identity could not be confused with anyone else. She looked to the driver but he made no motion to disembark and Simon showed no intention of extending the steps. Left with no option, Penelope leveled her slipper against the suspended step and hoisted herself into the open drag door. Her ankle gave a wicked twist as she pulled herself up unceremoniously, but she did not stall.

  The carriage, built for travel like a public stagecoach, did not make sense. Why would Simon need such an accommodating ride? But the question barely formed before he leaned forward, wrapping a cloth across her mouth and binding her into silence. She raised her hands in panic and attempted to pull the gag away, but this made his truculent actions easier as he grasped her wrists and bound them together with a length of rope. He knocked on the roof to signal the driver and then shoved her against the squabs, his laugh an unnatural, bitter sound.

  He didn’t speak for miles. Penelope concentrated on regulating her breathing. While her mind raced to formulate the appropriate approach in speaking to Simon, her heart ached with the solitary thought she might never see Phineas again. Thoughts of their time spent together served to calm the tremulous panic coursing through her.

  “It seems I underestimated you.”

  Ridley hitched his boot on the bench beside her, as relaxed and comfortable as if he embarked on holiday, and not at all discomfited by the fact he’d kidnapped a woman, gagged her, and headed to some undisclosed location meant for no good.

  “The other females were so much easier. Never pursuing me, their shame prevented their feet or lips from moving. But you make things difficult. I was surprised when you showed all polished up in that ballroom. You were happy to see me, weren’t you?”

  With a flick of his finger, he lowered the gag. Penelope gulped several breaths and forced a calm reply, not wishing to incite his anger for fear he would raise the cloth over her mouth again. The only way she held any hope of seeing Phineas was to best her captor with words.

  “But why? I do not understand.” She managed to keep her tone even, though her pulse thrummed in time with her heart.

  “You can’t possibly be that naïve.” He snickered before continuing. “For the money, darling. The money. Your father possessed a Dilgano. If I can manage to obtain the entire set, the possibilities are endless.”

  “My mother’s cameo?”

  “Yes, you have no idea of its worth.” He laughed again, an ugly sound. “Truthfully I didn’t either until it was taken from me, but I intend to recover it and leave this wretched country with my fortune in hand.”

  “You stole it. I don’t have it, Simon.” She wrestled with her emotions, striving not to incite his irrational behavior further.

  “Arlis, my name is Arlis. Stop living in the past. Start thinking about our future.”

  He ran the back of his hand over her cheek and she couldn’t hide her repulsive shudder.

  “Oh you’ll be willing by the time we reach Gretna Green, even if I have to force you to comply.” His voice turned cold, edged with a sepulchral tone. “Don’t doubt I won’t have someone harm Aubry in order to ensure your compliance and achieve my goal.”

  Her eyes flared with shock but despite the difficulties she experienced digesting his words, she forced herself to think rationally as it was her only tool in enacting escape.

  “You mean to marry me? You could have accomplished the same last year, but you left me at the altar.” Her words were no more than an incredulous whisper.

  “You are dull witted. I don’t wish to remain married to you. Once we are wed, upon your death your property reverts to me and that includes the Dilgano.” He snorted in open disgust. “As soon as Lord Fenhurst returns it to you.”

  “Phineas? He doesn’t have my cameo.” She shook her head and rejected his suggestion. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ll go to prison for this. You’re mad.”

  “Mad? Only if you think I’m going to Newgate over a country chit with low connections. No, my plan is genius.” He smiled in self-congratulation.

  “Phineas will find you. He will never let you live if you harm me.” The words brought about a newfound resolve.

  “Attached to the viscount are you? I will try to remember that when he arrives with the Dilgano.” Arlis leaned forward and caught her chin in a sharp grasp. He smirked as if relishing the panic he produced, even as she struggled to pull free. “Once I dispose of our driver and lead us to the main road, we need only to reach our destination and await the viscount’s arrival. Now you see, you are firmly trapped.” He released her, shoving her against the squabs.

  Penelope no longer attempted to disguise her revulsion. “Phineas will find you and kill you.” She had to force from her mind the notion that Arlis meant to cause him harm, otherwise the excruciating fear it evoked would blind all her actions. “He will never allow you to live.”

  “Nonsense. He will gladly trade the Dilgano for you, but what he won’t know, is that you will already be married to me.” His eyes narrowed as his hand snatched out to wrap a length of her hair around his finger and wind her closer. “Being married to me will not be much of a trial, at least not in the beginning. In fact, I promise not to leave until after the repeated joys of our wedding night.”

  “I would rather die.” She shuddered with the words.

  “Well, as I said, you might have to.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Phineas cursed himself for the hundredth time, his remorse in not revealing possession of the cameo unforgivable. Ridley wished to exchange the
woman he loved for the Dilgano. His simple confession would have ensured she wasn’t placed in harm’s way, whereas now his desire to rescue her and solve all her problems placed her life in danger. Bitter regret settled in his stomach.

  He should have told her he loved her. He should have said the words.

  In excellent time, he spurred Abacus into a stronger gallop, but like any animal pushed to its limit his horse would need rest soon. The consideration that he’d lose precious minutes because he hadn’t a fresh mount at his disposal did not sit well. He owned one of the most impressive stables known, but little help it served him now. He nudged Abacus harder and canted a silent prayer he would arrive in time.

  Ridley wished to meet near Cumbria tomorrow evening. The county, on the cusp of Scotland sat uncommonly close to Gretna Green. He cursed a string of oaths into the wind. He’d only ridden a few miles before the pieces of the circuitous plan settled into place. If the man sought to escape with the Dilgano, he wouldn’t have given it a second consideration, but Ridley meant to bring Penelope with him. At least as far as Gretna.

  He had to reach them in time or the bastard would force Penelope into marriage.

  Every muscle in his body tensed. He would enjoy beating Ridley senseless.

  Maneuvering an old coaching route he’d discovered during a recent fishing jaunt, he eyed the roadway ahead where it merged with a well-used thoroughfare. If Abacus held out, he had confidence he would intersect Ridley’s conveyance soon after. The man would never expect him to arrive early or make such excellent time. He held onto the small thought to convince himself Penelope’s rescue would prove flawless and simplistic.

  He’d ridden another hour when he approached the common roadway. With a passenger, an unwilling one at that, Ridley would need a carriage and that meant slower travel. He waited, his eyes keenly trained for any traffic. When a cumbersome drag approached on the road ahead, he knew he’d found his quarry. Confirmation was made when the driver, a slight man with dark hair and an unnatural patch of white at the temple, came into view. The bloody bandicoot drove the four-in-hand himself, either unable to afford a driver or unsure of whom to trust. A responsible driver would be nothing but an inconvenient witness to a deleterious scourge like Ridley.

  Approaching the drag proved a simple matter. Ridley’s team had tired, even Trump’s grey held a sheen of perspiration visible in the waning daylight. He doubted Ridley rested or watered the horses and the clumsy conveyance did nothing but slow them down. Phineas aligned Abacus and rode closer, the pounding of his horse’s hooves lost in the thunder of Ridley’s team. Then just as the man maneuvered a series of deep wheel ruts, Phin leapt from Abacus’ back and settled atop the boot at the rear of the carriage. The jolt of his landing caused Ridley to turn as Phin scrambled over the main body and onto the driver’s box. Mayhem ensured promptly thereafter. Ridley struggled to keep the coach on all four wheels and Phineas took advantage, grasping the reins in a struggle to gain control.

  “Fenhurst!”

  Ridley’s uttered objection was lost as the team surged on. He reached inside his waistcoat but Phineas shoved him aside, grappling to keep a strong hold on the reins. With his free hand Ridley managed to withdraw a small firearm, but it proved his downfall as his hold loosened on the reins when he struggled to manage the gun.

  “It will take more than a pistol to keep me from the woman I love.” The utterance was more a promise than a warning, but Ridley responded, his eyes wild with a reckless gleam, his words filled with confidence.

  “That’s where we differ. Nothing will keep me from the Dilgano. Absolutely nothing.” He glanced down and cocked the pistol.

  Taking advantage of his miscalculation, Phineas knocked the pistol free. His fist struck the gun and sent it beneath the carriage as the horses raced on. Ridley advanced and Phineas gathered the reins in his right hand, tucking them beneath his boot set hard against the undercarriage. He removed his knife with a swift arc and sliced through the straps Ridley used as an anchor. The action sent Ridley backward with enough force to align with Phin’s left hook. Connecting with smooth accuracy, Ridley lurched forward as Phineas pulled hard on the reins. The horses anxious to cease their breakneck speed, halted. The sudden movement pitched Ridley through the wooden perch and under the hooves of Trumpington’s grey. His body lay bloodied in the roadway behind the coach, his painful moans causing Phineas to grin in satisfaction.

  A forceful thump within the coach reminded him whoever remained within the carriage took the brunt of their breakneck travels and a sickening feeling threatened as he hoisted down from the driver’s box, grabbed the handle of the drag’s door, and flung it open. Had a thug been set to guard Penelope or was it his beloved jostled within the coach during the melee? He peered inside and prayed he hadn’t arrived too late.

  Penelope huddled in the furthest corner of the interior, her tearful eyes wide with fear, her mouth and hands bound with rags. He could not reach her fast enough, scrambling inside to break the binds holding her captive. In less than a breath, he had her free. Smoothing her hair with a feather-light caress, he wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs, and cradled her face to whisper comfort. “Are you alright, chère amie?” His words came out on a sigh of relief.

  “I knew you would come.” Her voice trembled with emotion. Shaken and scared, her dress in tatters, she clung to his collar, her nose pressed against his.

  He marveled at her confidence as he’d almost lost the woman he loved from his own stupidity, yet her faith never wavered, even when he wasn’t sure he deserved it at all.

  “I was so scared.” She buried her face in his shoulder, her words muffled against his coat. “I feared I would never see you again.”

  “Nothing would have stopped me.” He brushed his mouth across her cheek and whispered reassurances into her ear. “I could never survive your death. I love you, Penelope. I love you so very much.”

  Then he kissed her because she was safe, and she was his, and lucky penny or not, what else could he ever wish for? She felt heavenly in his arms and by damn, he would never let her out of his sight again.

  He barely heard the approaching thunder of hooves that caused the coach to vibrate in tune to his pounding heart. From the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Devlin who’d dismounted and promptly shut the drag door. Phineas paid no heed. He pulled Penelope onto his lap and settled his mouth atop hers for another soul searing kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Victoria,” Dorothy’s voice sounded anxious. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned Phineas went rushing to the upper level with Penelope in his arms? I would think to the servants as well as the entire household it appears improper for him to be bounding about with the lady held so tightly against his person. What about Penelope’s reputation?”

  Aubry stood in the corner of the hall and keenly observed the two older women engrossed in conversation. If Mon Ami would stay silent, they might never glance in her direction. She dropped a few more nuts into the cage to keep the parrot busy.

  “Mon dieu, what do you imply? Aside from being a vigilant rescuer, my son is a gentleman in every sense of the word. He’s carrying Penelope up to her bedchamber so she doesn’t injure her ankle further. This horrific debacle has served as an eye-opener and I know he will propose in less than a week, if even that long.” Lady Fenhurst took a long satisfying breath. “Oh, how I yearn to spoil grandchildren.”

  “It might happen sooner than you think.” Dorothy tossed her a look as if she were delusional.

  Aubry bit her lip to suppress a giggle. Dorothy had come down the same staircase as she and witnessed Phineas as he’d made a direct line to the master suites, his lovely quarry nestled in his arms and a very determined look upon his face.

  Lady Fenhurst sounded affronted when she spoke again. “If you mean to imply my son would take advantage of Penelope and abandon decorum to yield to his baser needs, you’re wrong. Phineas would never do such a thing. He’s too tightly lace
d to decorum.”

  Damnable laces. Catching hold of the ribboned ties at the back of Penelope’s corset, Phineas worked without success to undo the bedraggled knots. A heartbeat later succumbing to unrelenting desire, he wrapped his fingers in the fine laces and ripped the fabric wide, Penny’s silky smooth skin an inviting feast.

  “I might have helped you with that.” She scooted farther up the bed’s coverlet and turned to face him as she kneeled on the mattress, the remains of her chemise clutched to her breast. “I haven’t much left to cover myself.”

  Her voice met his ear, a mixture of delight and enticement, but he would have none of it, seduction his only goal. “You are a sensual temptress.” He removed his shirt and dropped it without a care before gutting the first candle with a short puff of breath. “Edible from head to toe. Now that I have you within my reach, never to let you go, I intend to show you how delicious you are.” He extinguished the second candle with nothing more than a sharp wave above its flame, his fingers working to open the buttons at the waistband of his trousers. Her eyes flared and a half smile hitched one corner of his mouth. “I’ve been waiting so bloody long I cannot see straight for the wanting of it.”

  He paused before the third candle, raking his eyes down her length in slow perusal, drinking her in and etching the image in his mind, Penelope atop his bed, her hair falling over her shoulders in silky ribbons, her pink lips curved in sensual invitation.

  Time stretched until her soft voice broke the quiet.

  “It’s all I ever wished for, to be loved by you.” She loosened her hold, the silk falling, lower, all the way to the sheets. No words existed that could entice him more.

  He blindly pressed the third flame between thumb and forefinger, then leaned forward on bended knee, his weight causing the mattress to dip, his trousers to catch on his hips.

  “You look like a lion stalking his prey.”

  He advanced up the mattress with predatory grace. “You think I’m hungry?”

 

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