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Authors: Anabelle Bryant

The Midnight Rake (29 page)

BOOK: The Midnight Rake
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“Well, that explains a few things.”

Dorothy smiled in his direction, all evidence of her previous emotion gone.

“Where is your mother? I have something I wish to discuss with her. I take it she is in house if the visitors have just departed.”

“She is here.” He reached for his glass only to discover it empty. “That troll is Penelope’s first cousin on her mother’s side. Carrick came to offer for her hand.” He forced the latter bit past his lips, offensive as it was. The thought of Carrick touching Penelope shot a ripple of revulsion straight through him. Dorothy appeared equally appalled.

“My word, Penelope becomes more interesting each time I discover something new. Fascinating girl. Intriguing, actually.” She paused but for emphasis or simply because she waited for his reply, he could not tell. “How did Bretton take the slapdown?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask my mother for the particulars. Thankfully I wasn’t present when it occurred.” He steeped his fingers and pressed with considerable force. “He is completely unworthy of her.”

“And you have a nasty left hook.” Dorothy smiled with the quip. “The Bretton’s are anxious aristocracy. Your mother and I could never abide the attitude. I’m surprised she entertained their company.” She paused briefly. “I suppose it was unavoidable with Penelope living here. Thankfully I dissuaded her of the idea Elizabeth would make you a suitable wife. Although I doubt your mother considered it with seriousness. Now everything should follow seamlessly.”

“I do owe you a debt.”

“Not at all. Where is your lovely little flower anyway?”

He started to attention. The mention of Penelope and the remembrance of why she was not below stairs brought a well needed smile to his face. He reached into his pocket and produced the cameo. As soon as Dorothy saw it in his offered hand, her face lit with astonishment.

“Where did you get this?”

She cradled the brooch reverently.

“It’s not mine. It belongs to Penny. Her mother’s, actually. We’re attempting to discern its authenticity. I aimed to visit your home before Carrick interrupted my errand. You’re an expert on matters like this and until I visit Rundell and Bridge, I meant to solicit your advice.”

The playful mood of only a few words before was replaced with a solemnity that held Phineas silent. Dorothy’s eyes watered and her hand trembled as she gazed down at the cameo broach in her palm. He moved closer and without hesitation, she returned the pin.

“It’s a Dilgano, of that I am sure.”

He glanced at the delicate piece. “I would hate for Penny to have further disappointment. Are you absolutely certain?”

“Without a doubt. It’s the third of the five Dilganos I’ve located. Two are in my possession.”

The melancholic tone in her voice forced him to hesitate, but he needed answers to ease Penny’s worry. “It’s of great value then?”

“Monetary value? Yes. To own a Dilgano is to have ensured wealth for a lifetime. The cameo will increase in worth as time passes. It is an heirloom and a keepsake.”

“And?” he prodded gently.

“Sentimental value. There is no price to be placed on the emotional meaning of such an exquisite piece.”

Her eyes returned to the brooch. She gently took it from his palm and ran a fingertip over the delicate likeness engraved into the agate stone, almost as if she desperately wanted to touch it, and at the same time restrained holding it too long as in a painful joy, if such emotion existed.

“The cameos were made in my likeness many years ago…”

She paused in the telling, never raising her eyes to his, and surely missing the incredulous look on his face.

“It’s only since Lord Livingston’s death that I’ve dared attempt to reclaim them. I would never dishonor him while we remained married, but I’ve always wished the cameos returned to me, their rightful owner.”

“Does Maman know this about you?” He spoke softly, the matter precious.

“No. No one does, save you and me, and I would prefer it remain that way.”

He replied without hesitation. “I am honored to keep your confidence.”

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 scant 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.

BOOK: The Midnight Rake
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