Mistletoe and Magic (Novella): A Loveswept Historical Romance (5 page)

“Why, Miss Penelope, you are cold.” Gallantly, Jared removed his muffler as they sat on a bench and removed their skates.

“I’m fine!” Penelope insisted, but then sneezed three times in a row, shivering in
the chill.

“You are not fine. Allow me.” His voice was firm as he placed his scarf around her neck and shoulders, his hands lingering a moment longer than necessary.

“Thank you.” Penelope leaned away from him, once again aware of the effect he had on her. What was it about him that made her feel like some giddy schoolgirl? She had always been in control when it came to men and couldn’t understand the excitement his presence generated. What was wrong with her?

They entered the beautiful arched doorway of the arcade. “There are the tiles.” She indicated the ceiling, grateful for the distraction. “I believe you wanted to see them?”

“Yes. I read that they were made by the Minton factory in England, where normally they are used for cathedral floors. But here on the ceiling, you can really appreciate them. There are actually different colors of clay fired onto the tile to create that effect.”

She paused for a moment, her eyes lingering on the lovely blue and brick patterned squares, aware of her roiling emotions. Jared’s muffler carried his scent, and Penelope couldn’t ignore the smell of spice, wool, and male. She would have taken it off, but it really was cold and she was grateful for the added warmth.

“So,” Jared continued after a moment. “Have you recovered completely from the ball? I was concerned about you, with the way you ran out.”

“I …” How could she possibly explain her hasty exit? That she foresaw his death in less than a month’s time? “I believe it was just all the stimulation. I am not usually given to the vapors.”

“I see.” Jared couldn’t hide a smile. “Dare I hope the excitement had something to do with me?”

Her eyes flew wide open as she realized how he’d interpreted her actions. The time for subtlety had passed, she decided. Removing his scarf with a flourish, she stuffed it into his hands.

“Mr. Marton, I am sorry to have to come out and say this, but I do not seek your company,” Penelope said firmly. “And I apologize if I led you to believe otherwise. Now if you will excuse me, I must return to my family. I’m sure they are wondering where I am.”

Instead of being dismayed, Jared sounded amused. “You did not find me repulsive at the ball,” he pointed out. “If I honestly believed that you did, I wouldn’t trouble you again.”

As if to prove his words, he came so close to her that she was practically in his arms. Penelope felt her pulse leap at his nearness, and her heart beat so hard she swore he could feel it.

“So there must be an explanation,” he continued, his smile deepening as she took a step backward. “Is there another man?”

“Yes!” She seized his suggestion and looked down as if full of regret, letting her lashes flutter at him. “An old friend has asked to court me. I haven’t told my aunt yet, but I have decided to accept.”

“I see. And may I ask who my competition might be?”

She thought quickly. “Mr. Sweeney. William Sweeney.”

“Ah.” Jared recognized the name of the wealthy merchant. He gave her a strange look. “He is a much older man, is he not? I think at least fifty years.”

“So?” Penelope said with a shrug. “He is also fabulously rich! And he finds me beautiful. I met him a few years ago and recently received a lovely letter from him. He wants to renew our acquaintance, and he made it quite clear that his intentions are honorable.”

Everything she said was true, but she didn’t bother to mention that she had no interest in the older man. So while he had written to her entreating for her hand, she had no intention of marrying him. She would eventually make that clear to him, and felt she could endure his attentions long enough to convince Jared to pursue someone else.

“I see.” Jared couldn’t hide his disappointment. “So money is enough for you then, I take it?”

Something in his tone made her bristle. “You don’t understand. If I wed him, I can take care of myself and Auntie, too! Right now we subsist very nicely on Mr. Forester and Mr. Howe’s generosity, but it is my duty to marry well in order to relieve that burden.”

“What about the rest?” Jared closed the short distance between them and looked into her eyes. Softly he ran a finger down her cheek. “Marriage means more than a way
to pay the bills. It means sharing a hearth and home, your husband’s bed …”

“How dare you!” Penelope said, aghast, slapping his hand away at the lurid suggestion. Yet his words stirred an unbidden excitement inside her that she struggled to conceal.

“It is the truth,” he continued, his eyes an even darker green than the lake. The smile he gave her was wicked. “And something you should consider if you are serious about entering into a marriage with a much older man …”

“I will not entertain this conversation another minute! Good day, Mr. Marton!” Her nose in the air, Penelope pulled away from him indignantly, ignoring his laughter as she picked up her skates and made her way back to her friends.

Jared’s amusement vanished as he watched her go. So she had a new suitor. He thought of the strange note he’d received the previous day. It simply said:
Get out of town now while you can
. The letters were written in a simple block print, almost as if a child had done it. He hadn’t given the warning much credibility, and had thought it simply a prank. Now he wondered if Mr. William Sweeney was trying to scare him off.

Dismissing the note, his mind returned to a more pleasant topic: the elusive Miss Appleton. Once more she was running, but at least this time he knew why.

Penelope Appleton thought her duty in life was to provide for her aunt, and that her looks were the only way to make this happen. Yet there was much more to her than a pretty face. She didn’t seem to know her real worth, the woman he could see. Nor did she seem to understand there was a lot more to marriage than financial wealth. This was something he had learned painfully from observing his own parents’ marriage. He wanted better for himself, and for Penelope.

Somehow he had to make her see that.

Winifred caught up with Jared once Penelope had left for the hotel tea. “So are things progressing?”

Jared smiled wryly. “I wouldn’t say that. Your sister confided in me that she is going to allow another man to court her. A Mr. William Sweeney.”

“That’s odd.” Winifred frowned. “I remember the man, but not that Penelope showed any particular affinity for him.”

“I think his bank account may be the draw.” Briefly, Jared explained what her sister had said.

“It would be understandable for Penelope to think that way,” Winifred said thoughtfully. “She was quite young when our parents passed, and took it very hard. I can imagine she feels responsible for Eve, and for her own situation. I just didn’t realize it would color her choice of suitor.”

“Then she isn’t in love with Sweeney?” Jared questioned, a determined glint coming into his eyes when Winifred shook her head.

“Not at all. The very idea is absurd.”

“That’s all I need to know.”

“What do you mean?” Winifred frowned.

He gave her a broad smile. “Come now, Winnie. As a lawyer, I have means to uncover information. I have a feeling the wealthy Mr. William Sweeney may have a skeleton or two hidden in his closet. I will just make certain your sister makes an informed decision.”

At the Grand Union Hotel, Penelope sipped her tea, unaware of the gossip her presence generated. She’d doffed her coat and was wearing a crimson velvet gown befitting the season. The charming color highlighted the blush in her cheeks, and she caught more than one man’s eye as she giggled with her friends.

“Who is that?” Emma Van Cortlandt sniffed as she allowed the waiter to pour her a second cup.

“Penelope Appleton.” Catherine Parks sneered as she leaned closer to the other woman. “She made her debut at the Vanderbilts’ Christmas ball.”

“She certainly is lovely,” Irene Vander Poole sighed. “You can’t deny that. It is said she is the most beautiful woman in all of New York. Why, the young men can talk of no one else!”

Emma gave a quick glance at Catherine, and then hid a Cheshire cat–like smile as she nibbled on a biscuit. “Well, I’ve heard tell she’s caught the eye of one young man who is bound and determined to win her.”

“Who?” the others chimed in unison.

“Mr. Marton, that’s who.” Emma daintily dusted a crumb from her sleeve.

Catherine choked on her tea. “Why, that’s ridiculous!” she protested once she’d cleared her throat. “He and my Susan … I mean, from the time they were children, we all assumed it would be a wonderful match.”

“Maybe so.” Emma rolled her eyes knowingly. “But I have it on good understanding that he danced with her at the ball, and said or did something to cause her to swoon. You know how masculine he is.” She paused, pleased with the stunned reaction to her news.

“Perhaps she simply took ill! I recall when my Susan had the fever …”

“And I hear he sent her dozens of flowers, all of which she refused and donated to the church! St. Patrick’s Cathedral must have looked marvelous, adorned with all those roses!”

“How do you know all this?” Irene wondered.

Emma gave them a self-satisfied smile. “Eve Appleton’s maid is a friend of my coal dealer.”

Catherine Parks sipped her tea, digesting the other woman’s words. “Well, if she really did that, then Mr. Marton must realize his attentions are unwanted …”

“Not at all,” Emma said knowingly. “If anything, I believe it’s the other way around. It appears to have just made him more eager.”

“They disappeared into the arcade today for quite a long time …” Irene mused, letting the words hang in the air like a shimmering piece of tinsel. “More than one person noted that. Perhaps he means to court her by Christmas!”

“She is nothing more than an upstart, and entirely inappropriate for a man like Jared Marton.” Catherine glared at the radiant blonde sitting across the room. “I happen to know his mother, and she had her heart set on him making a good marriage. I think I will invite Agnes Marton to tea. It has been a long time since I’ve entertained her, and the holiday season provides the perfect excuse.”

Jared returned to his office a couple of weeks later, running a frustrated hand through his hair. Tossing his walking stick onto the green leather couch, he plopped down into a chair, grateful that one of the partners had thought to light a fire.

It was no use. Every time he tried to get close to Penelope Appleton, she thwarted him. Jared had fenced with the most talented swordsmen in New York City and won, only to find himself outmaneuvered by a slip of a girl whom he couldn’t forget.

Last week Jennifer had tipped him off about a sleigh ride where he was certain to run into her sister. But when he arrived, she was cozily ensconced in the lap of the hated William Sweeney.

She looked like a child seeing Santa for Christmas, he thought bitterly, recalling Thomas Nast’s drawing in
Harper’s Weekly
. William Sweeney appeared smug and satisfied with his arms around the beautiful Penelope as the sleigh slid down the snow-padded road.

Then the Billings girls informed him that Penelope was joining them for a Christmas musical. Again, William Sweeney escorted her, making sure every man in the room knew she was his as surely as a male dog marked his territory.

Finally, he attended a Christmas fête, having heard from Winifred that Penelope would be there. When she arrived, not only was she with William, but she managed to “accidentally” dump a glass of merlot into Jared’s lap. Even though she apologized profusely, he saw the glint in her eyes and knew she was sending him the clearest message she could.

And after talking to Winifred, he understood why Penelope made the choices she did. Women were so limited in their ability to decide their own fate. Marriage was the only institution by which they could gain economically, and they had to hope against hope to find something more in the process. While most of his male acquaintances didn’t share his views, happy with the status quo since it gave them all the power, he found the notion distasteful.