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Instead Phineas offered his hand to assist Penelope as she settled upon the flannel, but when he turned to do the same for Aubry, the gesture was lost, his mother having whisked the young girl toward the flowerbeds, their silhouettes disappearing among the yellow-throated roses. He sat down, chagrined, yet all too familiar with his mother’s whims.
“Lady Rosebery.” Phineas offered her a plate. “We have been abruptly dismissed.”
“I think you’re correct.” She returned an amiable smile. “It will be good for my sister to have some order in her life. As much as I regret to admit it, the past months have not been kind.”
Phineas watched as she placed the china plate upon the blanket, adjusting it twice before she was satisfied. She turned her concentration to the silverware next. Could she be nervous? His eyes swept up her slight form, stalling to admire her hair as she gave the place setting her full interest. Sunlight reflected off the caramel waves shadowing her face. Lush lashes swept against her creamy soft skin and captured his attention. Good thing her eyes remained cast toward the silver or she might wonder what he was about, yet it was only subtle interest that held his attention.
His mother best not have offered his assistance in whatever she’d schemed with the ladies. He clenched his teeth to evoke patience and then forced himself to relax. He was preoccupied with Julia’s issue and unwilling to invite further misery by way of female emotion. Still, congeniality would harm no one.
“Please call me Phineas. After nearly knocking you over and now sharing a picnic, I would like us to become friends. We are living in the same house.” An unexpected emotion coursed through him as he said the words aloud and he reached up to tug at the too-tight knot in his cravat.
“I know. This is more than I ever imagined.” Her admission, a beguiling mixture of whisper and awe, disappeared on a pleasant breeze. Then, as if riddled with uncertainty, she continued. “Phineas.”
“Well, now that’s better.” He handed her a linen napkin, although his mind twitched with the question of why he liked the sound of his name in her voice. “Let’s eat, shall we?” The words came out stronger than necessary.
He unwrapped the assortment of foods and strove for casual conversation. “Cook was generous. Clearly my mother is intent on strolling with Aubry this afternoon whereas I thought her famished.” His eyes followed the vacant path.
He’d be damned if Maman was orchestrating another matchmaking episode; having grown wary of any situation involving an unmarried female due to his mother’s unrelenting desire to see him settled and producing offspring. Relationships were messy business.
No wife, happy life.
He silently repeated his mantra and with swift vigilance dismissed the unpleasant thought of Maman’s interference.
“Thank you for this.” Penelope motioned to the plentiful food on the blanket. “It seems a long time since I’ve relaxed and forgotten my troubles.”
The honesty of Penelope’s statement spoke straight to his heart and Phin found he could not drag his eyes from her. Realizing his ridiculous discomfiture, he forced his gaze to his plate. “Well then, please enjoy. I never need a second invitation to eat.”
Penelope glanced at the man settled across the flannel. Dressed in a pale blue linen shirt and brown buck trousers, his casual repose was contagious. How unusual for her to feel at ease in the presence of a gentleman. The few instances when Simon initiated affection, she’d never experienced such calm. But then, she no longer trusted her intuition. A niggling voice reminded of her ineptitude in perceiving Simon’s true nature. Oh, she’d proved every kind of fool to believe herself in love with a pernicious thief.
The stark comparison between Simon and the effortless eloquence across the blanket caused her breath to catch. Phineas genuinely cared for his mother and showed consideration beyond his own wishes. From their shared time in the hallway earlier, a picnic in the garden seemed his least preferred activity for the afternoon, yet he couldn’t be more charming if he tried.
Light reflected in his amber eyes and the shimmer of sunlight that glinted on a stray lock of hair adrift in the breeze gave her heart a little hiccup. She had not described Phineas with accuracy when discussing his appearance with Aubry. Her sister would be setting her to rights. Viscount Fenhurst was a downright pleasure, easily the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.
He may have wondered at her silence because he leaned a little closer, his dark brows aloft in question. She sighed as she experienced the full force of his notice.
“Is everything alright?”
His voice evoked feelings of security, a condition that had escaped her life for almost a full year. His chin angled strong and dependable, his nose equally fine, and his golden-hued eyes were fathomless as if one could fall in and get lost in his gaze forever. She forced herself to concentrate on the question and cease admiring his remarkably good looks.
With a firm mental reprimand, Penelope swallowed a threat of emotion. No longer would she allow sentiment to label her a fool. It would be best if she spoke of the weather or some other subject having nothing at all to do with rugged handsomeness and a charming cleft in the chin. She’d been a small child the last time she’d enjoyed a picnic on the lawn. Straightening her shoulders, she formulated a mundane reply. “This is lovely.”
“As are you,” he replied without hesitation. “Now, what is it that brings you to London?”
She smiled at the compliment while Phineas retrieved two glasses from the basket along with a bottle of claret. “I’ve traveled in hope of finding someone. It is a matter of great importance.” She strove to keep her tone cheerful; noting the quaver in her voice likely sabotaged her attempt at congeniality. Reaching across the blanket, she accepted a glass of wine.
“I’ve no doubt my mother will be of assistance.” His voice was rich with sincerity. “She’s a social butterfly and attends almost every invitation. I can see this matter is of great importance. It reminds me of my sister Julia. She too is seeking to solve a problem.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is your sister unwell?” Penelope filled her plate with food. There were all sorts of wonderful things to eat, choice bits she hadn’t tasted in months, their meager savings allowing only the bare essentials. And there were strawberries. She did love strawberries.
“Yes, Julia will be fine.” He offered her a scone before continuing. “She’s in Brighton now, but I’m hoping she’ll return home soon.”
Penelope detected a note of sadness in his words. Clearly, the matter troubled him. Her initial impression, that he possessed a genuine kindness, strengthened. She darted a glance to where he relaxed, noting he’d piled his plate high; his hearty appetite indicating they shared something in common.
“It sounds like the cause of my own distress, but then I suppose it’s a long road that doesn’t have a turn.” She took a bite of her food. “May I ask your opinion?” Her words held the smallest note of uncertainty. She hardly knew the man before her, yet he expressed such sympathy for his sister’s plight, she could not help but trust him.
His brows slashed low over his eyes as if he wasn’t sure how to answer, then he made quick work of a reply. “It would be my honor.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “Be assured I am a veritable vault when it comes to secrets.”
His response was everything Penny needed to hear and she raised her wine for a fortifying sip before beginning her discreet confession. She included a respectful verisimilitude, editing when necessary to keep true the promise she’d made with Aubry to find Simon Maddock and force his repentance for wrongdoing; even if it meant embarrassment and exposure in the process. In truth, they had little choice. Money was running out no matter how parsimoniously they lived.
Of course, she had no one to blame for their hardship but herself. She’d pleaded with her father to release her dowry and entrust their savings to Simon’s promise of profitable wealth. Yet no such investments existed; at least none her father’s solicitors could secure in any London bank.
“Allow me to understand.”
Phineas finished a second serving of food and reclined on the blanket, his arms a support as he leaned backward, his long legs crossed at the ankles. Her pulse hitched a notch under the penetrating scrutiny of his amber stare.
“You wish to find a specific gentleman in London, although you won’t reveal his name. When he is located, you want to speak to him in private and the why of it, you also will not share. Is this correct?”
Penelope found it increasingly difficult to answer. Did he consider her request foolish? No matter the questions racing through her mind, she couldn’t break the hold of his speculative stare. He reminded her of a lion, tawny and regal, reposed, yet powerful. With a nervous swallow she reordered the path of her thoughts. Nothing but trouble was found the last time she opened her heart to emotion. She would need to be much smarter in the future.
“Stated like that it does sound a little far-fetched.” She placed her empty plate on the blanket and smoothed the crumbs from the skirt of her day gown. The faded fabric was hopelessly out of fashion. She wondered what Phineas thought of her appearance accompanied with her incredulous explanation. But no, he did not seem put off with her confession, only curious.
“Shall I clarify a bit more?” If he detected the compunctious tone of her voice, he was polite enough not to comment. More the pity she could never tell him the complete truth, but she would be mortified to reveal she’d been disgracefully left at the altar and made penniless in the same afternoon. He would think her impetuous at the least, unworthy at the worst and for some unidentifiable reason, the thought of Phineas establishing a lowered opinion shot a pulse of panic through her.
“I’m all ears.”
Did he merely humor her? He smiled and his face transformed from serene and inquisitive, to breathtakingly handsome in a heartbeat.
She cleared her throat with a small sound. “I’m seeking this man because he’s left me little choice but to do so. It is a matter of the utmost importance. Life and death one could even claim.” She let out a regretful sigh and cast her eyes downward. How embarrassing to be put in this situation. Simon’s actions were despicable and she’d happily see him drawn and quartered for the hurt he’d perpetuated on her family.
She raised her hand and gently placed it over her heart, remorse and regret causing her palm to tremble. Still as her emotions threatened to overtake her, she vowed to stop her foolish weeping and locate the man who had brought about their ruin. Without a doubt, he deserved not one tear.
Penelope appeared deeply troubled. When she laid her hand across her breast unable to form the words she’d given her heart to the gentleman she sought, it felt as though someone punched him in the stomach and Phineas couldn’t fathom why the admission would strike him with such intensity. It could only be the comparison to Julia’s condition.
He wondered at Penelope’s circumstances. She ate like she’d never seen food before and the observation urged the corner of his smile upward. How he detested females who spoke of nothing but maintaining their figure and, in turn, nibbled like a mouse, one berry or half a scone on their plate. He stole another glance, settling the heat of his gaze on her mouth in wait of the conversation.
Her lips were absolute perfection and a lovelier shade of pink he’d never seen. The sleek curves and delectable plumpness formed the most delicious little bow; although she did not look overfed. Quite the opposite. Did Penelope suffer from lovesickness, unable to eat because of her broken heart? Clearly there was much he needed to learn. One thought remained resolute, he would not play the role of paladin. This was Maman’s problem to solve.
“My mother could escort you to a few functions if it would offer the opportunity to learn the whereabouts of the gentleman in question. Not only would it be a safer arrangement than attempting the endeavor alone,” Phineas lowered his voice to emphasize the rest of his statement, “and I do not intend to sound braggadocio, but it would gain you entrance to the most sought-after invitations. My family is ever popular with the ton.”
“Oh.”
The one syllable expressed pure disappointment, and it didn’t take much logic to decipher the situation. “I assume my mother has already offered my services.”
He disliked the idea of spending more time in Penelope’s company, notwithstanding her heart belonged to another. He’d no use for serious relationships and the emotion involved. The entire situation evoked anger more than anything else. He’d had his fill of Maman’s meddling. His eye caught a small movement on the blanket and he flicked away an intrusive spider, annoyed he’d found himself in the middle of his mother’s manipulation.
“Would you do that for me? It’s all I desire.” Penelope’s eyes lit with sincere gratitude while her incredulous tone eased his temperament. “If you’d gain me entry to the more refined ton socials, I would be most thankful. I don’t want my troubles to become yours. I simply wish for the opportunity to resolve them myself.”
How very brave and interesting. Her words spoke of a determination he never would have detected in her sweet, unassuming countenance. This stranger’s reason for losing contact with Penelope ought to prove a good one. Why else wouldn’t someone spend time with the delightful creature in front of him? While he rarely intruded on personal matters, he would detest the effort were he to locate the man only to discover he effectuated a threat. Not one to raise his fists in anger, Phin would stand ready if a lady’s honor were at stake.
“It should not be a difficult task and in truth, your company in house will balm my mother’s concern for my sister. It does not signify she suggested Julia would benefit from the holiday. That fact remains inconsequential. Feel assured you’ve already returned the favor.”
He neglected to add how it also prevented Maman from turning more attention to her only son. Other motivating factors were at work. His mother wished for grandchildren, despite he was not reticent in his announcement he’d no wish to settle down. It did not signify many of his closest friends had come to a pass in their usual roguish activities, and now either considered the parson’s mousetrap or pursued it with zeal. Devlin Ravensdale, Duke of Wharncliffe existed as a prime example of how utterly euphoric the right union could be. His friend Constantine Highborough, once a notorious scoundrel, was also ensconced in wedded bliss.
But such relationships were rare and elusive; exceptions to the norm. His parents had more of an amicable friendship than a passionate love. His father spent most of his time traveling. Phin could easily recall childhood memories of vehement arguments recurring on a regular basis. Marriage presented a delicate balance of which he was not anxious to maneuver.
He settled his eyes on Penelope. Apparently this lady’s heart was given. It made no difference despite she possessed a certain something that provoked his interest. His thoughts returned to their earlier collision and his body’s immediate reaction. With a sideways glance he assessed her adorably thoughtful pose. Not a classic beauty, she appeared more a wildflower, fresh in its simplicity. Those freckles, now they were entrancing to say the least. And her long eyelashes, a soft mahogany color, framed each of her green eyes creating such a distinct outline, one would have to be daft not to notice their alluring effect.
He ignored the observations with a huff of impatience. Companionship and flirtatious endeavors withstanding, he sought nothing with permanence and this inconvenient attraction to Penelope was an unexpected irritation.
She turned to him then, her gaze provoking an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t have eaten so fast. Things were running in deuces. Penelope’s eyes held the same forlorn expression he’d left behind in Brighton; and her actions, tentative as her words, reminded him of the anxiety-ridden conversation he’d had with Julia before leaving to journey home. He needed to do something to remedy Penelope’s distress. Best confront the facts so the issue could be solved and dismissed.
“Now here’s a bit of serendipity. Tomorrow evening the Pimbles are holding their annual masquerade. I normally dissolve into the night after I’ve attended for a reasonable amount of time, but I will endeavor to stay longer if you wish to initiate a few inquiries. With everyone’s face hidden behind a mask or domino, it will serve your purpose even if the gentleman you seek is covered in kind.”
He could only explain his sudden enthusiasm to attend an organized function due to Penelope’s beguiling nature. Her factitious mixture of innocence and subterfuge piqued his curiosity.
Penelope surrendered to a delighted clap before resting her hands in the skirt of her gown. The fabric looked worn and a little out of date, but he could never claim to be altogether current with fashion.
“And once you locate this gentleman, will all your problems be solved?”
Color drained from her cheeks. Apparently there remained more than she willingly revealed.
“I…I suppose.” She resisted the words as she said them. Then dismissing her response, she clasped her palms together with enthusiasm. “Oh, a masquerade will be perfect. I don’t want him to see me, not now at least.”
Perhaps she thought her words provided a sufficient answer because she reached for the last strawberry and took a dainty bite.
“Pardon?” His eyes narrowed with speculative curiosity as she adroitly sidestepped his inquiry.
“I would like to see what he’s doing and observe him unseen. We have much between us that needs to be settled.” She took another bite of the berry.
Phineas recalled the convoluted thoughts of his sister and her friends whenever they fancied themselves in love, and dismissed Penelope’s reply without further consideration. If only Julia was home, she could be of better assistance. Relationships and their related nonsense were hardly his forte.
“Well, we can talk about that later. I’ll need to know if this gentleman has committed you a wrong.”
She gave an abrupt cough, choking on the last bite of fruit and recovering although a drip of juice dropped to her skirt. She glanced downward and muttered something under her breath.
Phin pushed on. “I cannot protect you if you don’t allow me to know the circumstances.”
It sounded like an ultimatum and he hoped she realized he sought to avoid putting her in harm’s way. She had already taken some reckless chances. He suspected she was either impetuous, desperate, or worse, a combination of both.
“I can only tell you it is vital to my existence that I find this gentleman. I am grateful for any assistance as I’ve no one to depend on. My father passed months ago and my sister and I find ourselves unprotected and nearing dire straits.”
Her words came out in a threadbare whisper and he hardly heard her, his mind otherwise occupied with the phrase vital to my existence. Relationships were dangerous. Never would he allow someone such a firm hold on his direction in life.
Still he would help Penelope if possible. Why would the gentleman abandon her during this time of need? The only way to elucidate the answers would be to spend more time in her company. A task he would accept as duty, nothing more.
Feminine chatter drew his attention to the walkway where Maman and Aubry appeared soon after. Glad for the additional company and the distraction the two could provide, he watched the three ladies converse in the waning afternoon sun, while his mind considered Penelope’s somewhat illogical explanation and false show of bravado. For as much as he could tell, she appeared a very scared young woman attempting to accomplish a nearly impossible task.
Chapter Four (#ulink_2814601a-93c3-522c-b761-c0335cb8dcdd)
Phineas pushed through the door of Tattersalls and into the crowd, packed front door to rear, a sense of anticipation and wealth heavy in the air. No mere coincidence brought him to the club. Like everyone else, he wished to see Lord Trumpington’s grey go up on the block. The auction promised to be the most anticipated bloodstock offering at the horse house in months. Not one to spare a pound to improve his stable, Phineas aimed to purchase the animal. With careful planning, his unexpected trip to Brighton hadn’t interfered. Waving his hand in greeting to a friend across the room, the two met at the doorway and walked further down the ramp toward the stable area.
“Have you had a look, Dev?”
Devlin Ravensdale, Duke of Wharncliffe was a venerable expert with horses of every kind. Phin hoped Devlin’s report proved pristine so he could proceed with the sale.
“He’s remarkable, Phin. You’ll definitely want to win this auction. I haven’t seen a better example of horseflesh in the entire General Stud Book. As a direct descendant of one of the foundation sires, he’s a pure thoroughbred. If you weren’t so set on buying him yourself, I would steal him out from underneath you.”
They chuckled and then, reconsidering, Phin dropped all humor. “No, you wouldn’t.” He eyed his friend sincerely. Devlin possessed enough money to buy Tattersalls, never mind a single thoroughbred, so Phin held no doubt he would purchase the horse if not for their friendship. They had grown up together and couldn’t be more loyal comrades.
“Of course I would, so I could turn around and gift him to you.”
“No matter how much you appreciate our friendship and attribute your marital happiness to my interference, at one point you will need to stop buying me extravagant gifts. There is no debt to repay.” With the next breath, another subject leapt to the forefront. “I returned from Brighton to find my mother in house.” His voice held a dubious tone.
Devlin arched a dark brow. “You don’t say? I thought she’d decided to spend the rest of the season at Betcham Manor.” He swung open the stable door so his friend could pass.
Phineas grinned. “So did I. But she was there when I arrived home accompanied by two houseguests. Three, if you include her annoying parrot.”
Devlin followed him into the stable. “So, you haven’t gotten rid of the bird?”
“Not yet. But I may be able to recruit Jenkins to the dirty deed if the opportunity presents itself.”
Devlin nudged Phineas before replying. “Well count me in if it turns out to be a three man job.”
“As you wish.”
They neared the livestock area, aisle after aisle of wooden stalls, where a soft nicker or objecting whinny rent the air to interrupt their conversation despite the humid scent and fragrant straw proved a constant reminder of their purpose. Their steps quickened as they approached an outlying stable.
“I assume it was difficult for your mother to plan your future from the countryside.” Devlin indicated a booth just ahead. “Is there more to this story?”
“Actually there is. Quite a bit more.” But Phin stopped short in the retelling as his eyes swept over the magnificent animal in true appreciation. “I’ll tell you about Maman later. Let’s have a look.” Phineas stepped closer and ran his palm down the stallion’s fetlock. The horse stood at least fifteen hands high. Strong and well built, lean and fit, the thoroughbred was undoubtedly a sweetgoer.
“I am determined to win this auction. No matter the cost.”
The thoroughbred snorted and side-stepped, causing the men to shift their attention to the wooden ramp where a stranger lingered.
“A pure beauty that one. I’ve heard it’s the prize of the auction block today.”
The interloper eschewed a polite introduction and instead leaned against the gate wearing a cocky sneer. He continued to speak even though both men declined to reply.
“I heard the horse is damaged goods though. Too bad, it is.”
“Heard from whom and where?” Devlin stepped forward, annoyed with the rude pup who thought to interrupt and invite himself into a private conversation.
“I’ve heard it about. Some fool will purchase the horse and wind up with a problem instead.”
Phineas stepped to the forefront, the same annoyed insolence marring his face as displayed on Devlin’s. Something in the ostentatious nature of the interloper’s tone made him readily defensive. “This horse is in fine condition. Rumors circulate before auctions all the time. You’d do well to ignore them.” And then, against his better judgment, but with the same impeccable manners he always employed, he continued, “Viscount Fenhurst. Have we met before?” He initiated a handshake, skeptical of the man’s intentions.
Devlin watched the exchange with cautious interest.
