Mistletoe and Magic (Novella): A Loveswept Historical Romance (6 page)

A folder lying on the corner of his desk caught his attention. His secretary must have placed it there hours ago, knowing that at some point he would stop in and pick up his work. Jared retrieved the file, opened it, and within seconds, a slow, satisfied smile came across his face.

Well, well, well
. He closed the brief, not really surprised at its contents. If he’d learned one thing in his years of legal work, it was that everyone had something to hide. And a man like William Sweeney, who’d made a bloody fortune, would of course have secrets in his past he wished to go unnoticed.

And as he’d promised Winifred, his only hope was that Penelope would assess all of the available information and make an informed decision.

Penelope yawned as William Sweeney helped himself to another cake. “These are delicious, my dear,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I think I’ll have a little more of that brandy …”

“Ahem.” Aunt Eve stepped into the room, apparently occupied with turning up the gaslight. “Why, Penelope, you seem rather tired. The hour is getting late.”

In so many words, she made it plain that it was time for the man to take his leave. William glanced at Penelope, who smothered another yawn even as she valiantly attempted to appear enthusiastic. He missed the grateful look she sent her aunt.

“You will walk me to the door?” he asked hopefully.

Penelope grimaced behind her hand. It was clear he was hoping for a kiss, and the thought made her stomach tighten. Dutifully she rose and accompanied the man to the door, but when he slid his arm around her waist to pull her close, she pushed him back against the door.

“You mustn’t! My aunt—”

“I’m sure Eve is aware that as your favored suitor, I am entitled to some liberties.” He dipped his head to claim her lips for his own.

“I’m sorry.” Penelope managed to sidestep him. The thought of his lips and whiskey breath making contact with her mouth was repulsive. Thankfully, she’d been
practicing this maneuver for years and before Sweeney knew it, she was backed inside the door and he was out. “But you must know that a woman’s reputation is the dearest thing she can possess. I cannot risk that, enticing as a kiss might be.”

“I see.” William withdrew, obviously disappointed, but impressed all the same.

“I will see you at church tomorrow?” Penelope asked sweetly.

William forgot to be annoyed. “Why yes, of course, my dear.” He blew her a kiss as he made his way out into the snow. “I will be dreaming of you all night!”

Eve closed the door behind him and Penelope slumped into the couch, exhausted. “My word, Auntie! This courting thing is very tiring, is it not? He wants me for tea with his family, lunch with the senator. Then there are drives, walks, cards with some friends, holiday parties … I daresay, I could sleep for a month!”

“I see,” Eve said wisely, though she kept her opinions to herself. “Mr. Sweeney’s company doesn’t seem overly … stimulating to you, does it, dear?”

Penelope started to object when they heard the sound of singing outside. “What is that?” Peeking through the curtains, she could barely make out through the falling snow a male image on the lawn.

“Why, carol singers, I believe!” Eve was delighted at the thought, and her voice betrayed her excitement. “Let’s go and listen, for it’s been a few years since they made their way to this part of town!”

Penelope nodded her head in agreement, and then opened the door so Eve could enjoy the music. There seemed to be but one singer, a male standing in the falling snow. He appeared oddly familiar, yet was covered from head to foot in a dark coat, hat, and scarf, so she couldn’t see his face. He held a music book and a candle, and when he began one of the most beloved Christmas carols ever, Penelope, too, was entranced by his song.

“Silent night!” The voice was a rich, deep baritone in the still evening, and the words rang out over the snow.

“Holy night!

“William Sweeney …

“Has a wife!”

Penelope’s eyes flew open in shock. Surely she couldn’t have heard … surely it
couldn’t be …

“Jared!” Penelope flew out into the snow and dragged the man by his coat sleeve into the house even as he began the next verse. His candle toppled into the snow, but she would not let him retrieve it. Curtains wiggled at the mansion across the street as she pushed him inside and slammed the door behind her.

“How could you!”

Penelope was breathing heavily from her efforts, but she looked like she was ready to attack the man before her. Eve cautiously stepped between the two of them, concerned for their visitor’s welfare. Her niece, who a second ago was a charming young lady, hissed like an irate kitten.

“How dare you stand out on our lawn and sing such lies! Have you no shame?”

The object of her wrath stood upon the threshold, hiding behind the songbook as if to seek protection from physical harm. His laughter didn’t help as Penelope tried to swat him around her aunt.

“Come now, Miss Appleton, you must hear me out! It was the only way to get your attention!”

“Sir, I have had enough of this!” Penelope spat. “I made it plain to you that I have no interest in your … company, and yet you go so far as to make a laughingstock of my suitor! What are the neighbors to think?”

“I apologize,” Jared said, and his eyes conveyed his sincerity. “Honestly, if I could have thought of another way to tell you, I would have. But you won’t receive me, and I could hardly convey this kind of information at a public gathering.”

“What are you talking about?” Penelope demanded indignantly, but she seemed to calm down enough to listen.

“I’ll go fetch some tea.” Assured that her niece was not about to claw the man to shreds, Eve left the room so they could talk.

“William Sweeney is already married. Don’t take my word for it.” Jared, knowing how to work a jury, put the evidence before her. “See for yourself.”

Penelope glared at him with disgust, but curiosity got the better of her and she glanced over the files he’d retrieved from his songbook.

Bile rose in her throat as she surveyed the paperwork. She had to hand it to Jared,
his research was impeccable. There it was: all the details of the poor Irish girl in Philadelphia that William had impregnated. She was a cook, and the family she worked for had means enough to force him to the altar. But evidently, that’s where it began and ended. If William Sweeney paid any notice to the son who bore his name, it wasn’t apparent.

Sickened, she tossed the file onto the table. Jared’s eyes met hers.

“I really am sorry,” he repeated. “I just thought you should know the kind of man you are dealing with.”

“You talk very prettily, Mr. Marton,” Penelope said coolly, aware that her aunt was somewhere within earshot. “But I am aware you have your own motives.”

“I don’t argue that, or that I want you for myself.” Jared’s gaze met hers and for a briefest moment it was naked, one human being conveying something important to another, even though it might be to his detriment. “But as your friend, I thought you deserved to know the truth.”

Friend? Could Jared Marton be called a friend? As Eve bustled in with the tea tray, she had to admit, Jared had saved her from making a costly mistake if she had ever really entertained William Sweeney as a suitable match.

More confused than ever, Penelope sat down on the sofa. “I am grateful to know the truth,” she admitted. “I would look foolish indeed if word got out that I was being courted by a would-be bigamist.”

“You have my promise that I will not say anything to anyone,” Jared swore.

“Thank you, but what if he does this to another girl?” Penelope asked. “I wouldn’t want someone else to suffer that fate. Yet I would be held in contempt if anyone knew …”

“I think there might be a way to accomplish both goals,” Jared said thoughtfully. “As you may know, my mother is considered a matriarch of New York society. I can talk to her, explain the situation, and ask for her help. She can discreetly let the right people know that Mr. Sweeney is not the gentleman he presents himself to be.”

“Why, that is perfect!” Penelope smiled, her face lighting up. “That solves everything! Very clever of you, Mr. Marton!”

“Am I forgiven then?” When Penelope’s brows lifted as if considering his words,
he reached inside his coat and withdrew a package wrapped in tissue paper. “Perhaps an early Christmas present might make it up to you?”

“Mr. Marton …”

“Jared,” he insisted, putting the package in her hands.

Uncertainly, she undid the paper wrapping and gasped when she saw a white mink collar and matching muff inside a pretty silver box. “This is lovely! But I can’t possibly accept it!”

“Yes, you can.” He warmed his hands before the fire. “I purchased it especially for you, so you won’t be cold in the park next time.”

“But this is much too extravagant!” she protested, even as she was touched by his thoughtfulness. Excited, she put on the collar and stood before the mirror, admiring the way the white fur drew attention to her face. The mink felt wonderful against her skin and she smiled, pleased with her reflection, then turned to face him.

“I have still not agreed to see you,” she reminded him.

“All I want at this point is your friendship.” Jared got down on one knee and gave her a hopeful look. “Just allow me the chance to make my case, for you see, I am bewitched by you.”

He meant it. Even though his voice was teasing, she could see a love light in his eyes. Penelope fought the attraction that wove its magic around them, pulling her toward him like a moth to a flame. If she gave in, she would burn. Her vision came back to her just as she heard Eve’s footfall outside the door.

“Get up!” Quickly she regained her senses and snatched the fur from her throat. “Do you want my aunt to think you’re proposing?”

“Would that be so dreadful?” Jared obeyed her and got to his feet, and then reached for his coat. “I will be going. The hour is late and I’ve said my piece. Merry Christmas!” He gave her aunt a peck on the cheek and walked out, leaving Penelope to thoughtfully finger the soft fur garments he’d given her.

“My dear, what is that?” Eve looked in surprise at the lovely mink collar.

“Jared gave me a Christmas gift.”

“How nice! What a beautiful fur!” Eve picked up the muff. “You know, I believe when Winifred told him you were attending the fête he intended to give you something
then, but I didn’t think …”

“What?” Penelope’s eyes flew to her aunt. “What did you say?”

“Why …” Eve stumbled upon her words, wondering what was so wrong. “Well, he has been in communication with your sister …”

“That explains it!” Penelope fumed. “No wonder he always seems to appear wherever I am! Winnie has taken his side!”

“My dear, I don’t think she meant any harm … You know her fondness for the man. They’ve been friends for years!”

“I’ll fix him!” Penelope tossed the fur pieces into the box, grateful to have a solid reason to be angry with Jared. She had almost let her guard down, and now she was fully aware of what that meant. She couldn’t let this man get close to her—not now or ever.

“Tomorrow I am giving these to the Sisters of Charity! That man is unbelievable, enlisting my own sister in order to … stalk me like some kind of prey! I’ll show him what I think of his bribes! Humph!”

With that, she stormed up to her room, leaving her aunt to stare helplessly after her.

He was finally getting somewhere.

Jared sat before a well-polished coffeepot two days later as his housekeeper placed a hot breakfast before him. “I must say, sir,” she said, pouring a thick dollop of rich cream into his cup. “You seem very pleased with yourself this morning.”

“I am.” Gleefully, he rubbed his hands together, fully prepared to enjoy the meal.

He’d spoken to his mother the previous afternoon, and she had agreed that society needed to know about William Sweeney. While she had promised discretion given Penelope’s involvement with the man, she also let him know she wasn’t approving of his own relationship with the notorious Miss Appleton.

“You are not considering courting her yourself, are you?” she’d asked him pointedly. “Your father and I don’t consider her suitable!”

“Mother, we are barely friends,” Jared said truthfully. “I never know from one day to the next if she will even talk to me. But I daresay, we cannot let this man continue to present himself in such a way as to snare an unsuspecting girl. When I think of the Billingses, of Miss Howe …”

“Goodness, no!” his mother agreed, but she gave him a sharp look as if well aware he’d sidestepped her concerns.

One crisis at a time
, he told himself, happily spreading a thick pat of butter on his toast. He knew he was finally penetrating Penelope’s armor. There was the slightest softening in her tone when she realized he’d saved her reputation, a hint of real appreciation when she saw his gift. When he’d seen the mink accessories in a shop window, he could just picture her in the collar, that soft white fur framing a face that could only be called stunning. It made him proud to provide for her, to present her with something that was not only beautiful, but would make her more comfortable and happy.