The Midnight Rake Part 15

He should level Ridley with one punch. Using every ounce of civility, he uncurled his fists. "Name your second. You insult not only the lady, but my code of honor. Lord Colehill will serve as..."

"Phineas!" Lady Fenhurst's outraged exclamation pierced the ballroom and the twittering crowd quieted to hear every word. The musicians remained silent. Not even the shuffling of clothing or scuff of shoes rippled the air. "You will-"

"Stubble it, Maman!"

Withstanding the collective gasp, Phineas would not be deterred even while Con pursued a resolution.

"We should attempt to resolve this as gentlemen." Con nodded his head in opposing directions indicating the two men standing toe to toe in the middle of the dance floor. "Follow me to the drawing room. I will mediate the disagreement and find a satisfactory solution without the threat of a duel come sunrise."

Not wis.h.i.+ng for anymore unwanted attention, Phineas heard Ridley grunt approval, a clear glint of recklessness in his eye ascertained a duel would have suited him fine. Phin had no desire to draw pistols. The pleasure found in physically striking Ridley for the horrible insult he boasted too rewarding. The punishment he'd offered the man the night before was nothing compared to the pummeling he deserved.

One word cut through his haze of anger.

"Wait." Penelope's voice trembled, as if she didn't trust herself to speak. "I need to join you."

He viewed her, so determined and lovely, lost in the middle of their confrontation with myriad emotions flittering across her face, and the hard glint of desperation in her eyes. Seething with personal conflict, he'd almost forgotten her stake in the situation. When he'd finally fitted all the pieces together on his interminable ride to the event, his concern for her welfare overwhelmed him to the core and the same protectiveness blinded him now.

And jealousy, devil take it. When he entered the room and saw Ridley twirl Penny across the floor, a fist of possessiveness gripped him with such force he could not breathe.

What words could he offer? His heart ached with the emotion evident in Penelope's eyes, but he couldn't allow her to follow him. Knowing little would placate her, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Chere amie, this is not a matter for you to solve."

He knew she would object. Her entire body stiffened. Then the musicians resumed their melodies and people began to mill about, although a good amount of guests remained motionless anxious for the latest on dit.

"Considering it is my future, my dowry, and my past instigating this confrontation, I find it infuriating I would be excluded from the resolution."

Her vehement objection guaranteed she would be livid once they had the opportunity to speak later. Regardless of the consequences to their own relations.h.i.+p, he needed to protect her above all else.

"While it may be true, it is not what brought me to this challenge." He leaned in closer, his voice firm. "I mean to protect you. Ridley has insulted your honor and reputation."

She offered him a look of outrage. Beside them, Con cleared his throat and initiated their leave. The scheduled entertainment had resumed but they continued to present a spectacle on the ballroom floor. The three men moved with alacrity toward the hallway, Penelope d.o.g.g.i.ng their steps.

They entered an empty drawing room across the hall and Phineas told himself not to glance over his shoulder, but he did, catching a glimpse of Penelope's pleading expression. It transformed into pure betrayal as the door closed. He couldn't let her dejection color his purpose. He strode to the center of the room, disallowing Con the chance to breach the subject, and launched at Ridley, landing a solid right to his jaw. His head snapped back with a crack. Phineas exhaled fully and smiled.

"Shall I address you as Ridley or Maddock?" His voice hung sharp. "You've come into London like a scourge, lying, cheating and greasing your way through town. It's no surprise you are the blackguard responsible for Penelope's past sadness and current predicament."

Ridley backed away a few steps although his mouth was running fast. "I thought we left the ballroom to avoid a fight. Besides, I don't know what you're talking about."

Phin impaled the man with a scathing look, daring him to repudiate the insulting accusations pinned to his name. When Ridley remained silent, Phin worked to unb.u.t.ton his gloves, the action snapping Con to attention before Phineas speared him with a menacing glare. His friend best not suggest he seek an apologetic handshake or Phin wouldn't be responsible for the violence that followed. He narrowed his eyes and considered where to hit Ridley next. Perhaps a solid punch to the midriff would have him coughing up answers. That is, if Ridley remained standing after the blow.

"We are here to resolve, not ignite the problem." Con's voice was laced with warning. "An apology for the insult to Miss Rosebery's honor is the priority of this meeting." He turned his attention from one man to the other. "If Ridley's apology does not meet with your approval, you may declare your weapons, seconds, and meet in Richmond Park within forty-eight hours for a duel. This will not be settled with fisticuffs."

Phin retreated to a spot across the room, no longer trusting himself to be near Ridley once his explanation began. Constantine knew of his boxing ability. Needing to keep his hands busy, he fished his lucky penny from his pocket and pa.s.sed it purposefully from one palm to the other to mollify his temper.

"I'm agreeable to the terms." Ridley rubbed his palm across his jaw, the skin already showing signs of swelling. "Ridley is my surname and how I choose to spend my money is no one's business but my own. I suspect you're angrier about losing Trump's stallion than any insult voiced against the Rosebery chit."

"That's where you're wrong." Phin clenched the coin in his left fist. "Gentlemen in London live by a code of honor. Your manipulation of the horse auction and distasteful insult to Penelope are offensive without doubt, but there is something in your history I cannot dismiss with a mere apology. You swindled the Rosebery family. You will either return the funds you stole or I'll contact a Bow Street Runner and have you arrested before morning." His voice resounded with finality in the otherwise quiet room.

"You have no proof other than the lady's word, and her opinion soured after I lost interest. You impugn my honor. Your false accusations can never be proved." He punctuated his statements with a disdainful snort.

Phineas tossed the coin he held in a high arc above their heads. He s.n.a.t.c.hed it from the air extending his closed palm toward Ridley. "Are you bold enough to risk your future on the flip of a coin? Heads, we fight like men, no weapons, two days hence at Richmond. Or tails, you return Penelope's monies and belongings before taking your permanent leave."

Con remained unusually quiet, the air heavy as they waited for Ridley's response.

"You can't prove a d.a.m.n thing. You're bluffing."

"No longer confident, are you?" He motioned with his fist. "I have the cameo in my waistcoat pocket. I won it when I beat you at piquet. It's an original piece once belonging to Penelope's mother. How would you explain it to Bow Street?"

"Another bluff. A random piece of jewelry? That cameo might have belonged to anyone."

"No, not random at all. You tossed it on the table in front of a circle of witnesses. I've conferred with Rundell and Bridge on Fleet Street and had it confirmed as a Dilgano. The most prominent jewelers in London estimated its value at fifteen thousand pounds. You sought only to bilk the Rosebery family out of their household funds, but you inadvertently stole a fortune and then tossed it away. The fact that this particular cameo found its way into your pocket is no insignificant matter when coupled with Penny's accusations. It will condemn you now."

Ridley's eyes flared, but he remained silent. Con wore an expression of confident impress.

"Call it, Ridley. Heads, we settle this with fisticuffs and never make mention of it again. Tails, you return the monies and get the h.e.l.l out."

"This is nothing more than a sorry attempt to cut a sham and have me admit to something I didn't do."

"Suit yourself. I haven't visited Jackson's all week. I could use the practice." He recognized the capricious look in Ridley's eye, certain the man weighed his options. "If you think you will get your greedy hands on this cameo or Penelope, let me make myself crystal clear. Don't go near her. Not close enough to breathe the same air. I'll protect her with my life." He'd long before dropped his hand, the coin clenched in his fist, but he raised it one last time.

"Heads." Ridley spat the word, an ugly sneer twisting his lips as Phineas opened his fist revealing the silver profile of King George III.

"Then we have an appointment. Two days' time."

Ridley back-stepped, perhaps wary Phineas would lunge regardless of their agreement. Then he turned and left the room, the door barely closed before Con rushed forward.

"What the devil were you thinking? You mean to fight him? Ridley can't be trusted to abide by the rules. How did you know he would take the bait? What if he'd chosen tails?"

Phineas took a deep breath before replying. He turned the coin twice over in his palm, amused as Con's smile slid into place.

"The coin shows heads on both sides?"

"Did I not mention it is my lucky penny?"

Relief replaced all earlier tension to leave only questions in its wake. Con went to the sideboard and filled two snifters with liberal portions of brandy. Phin accepted the drink, took a long swallow and swirled the brandy in his gla.s.s before speaking.

"I only bought us time. I will never be satisfied until Ridley disappears and Penelope no longer lies in harm's way. At least I had the good sense not to tell her I gained the cameo. It may prevent the b.a.s.t.a.r.d from pursuing her, if for no other reason than to come after me instead. Although then it would be easy work to lay him out flat and connect him to multiple crimes."

"So Ridley is part of Penelope's past?" Con took another sip before setting his gla.s.s down.

"It's a complicated story I will gladly explain later. With hope he accepted my claims concerning the cameo, as I've not visited the jewelers and took a liberal leap of faith."

"Telling mistruths? Challenging men to duels? This is a side of you I've never seen. You do realize you told your mother to stubble it in front of over one hundred guests?"

"The heart causes the mind to do peculiar things." He set down his gla.s.s and quirked a bemused smile. "I can't waste any more time. Penelope and Maman were sure to attempt damage control and leave once we removed ourselves from the dance floor, but I wouldn't doubt either one of them waits to launch upon me as soon as I return to the townhouse."

Chapter Twenty.

Three hours past midnight, Phin returned to a quiet house. During the ride he reviewed the night's events, a.s.sured his mother would be mortified by the scene he perpetuated and the public set-down of his anger. She'd become self-conscious of appearances since Winton's dismissal of Julia, but it resurrected remembrances from Natalie's vocal display only last year. What an ironic twist of fate, that he'd become the perpetrator of scandal when he'd resented the problems Natalie caused in the past.

Nodding to Jenkins, Phineas climbed the stairs two at a time, anxious to see if candlelight showed under Penelope's doorway because regardless of how improper it would be for him to seek her out at this late hour, he would never be able to sleep until he spoke with her concerning Ridley's interference. He approached her chambers but not the dimmest crease of light was visible. Verbalizing his frustration in succinct language, he moved toward his bedchamber at the rear of the second floor, a good distance from the guest hall.

Head down, his mind deep in thought, he almost didn't notice the pacing figure who whipped back and forth before his door. His sister was the only other occupant with rooms on this floor and she remained in Brighton. The person awaiting his arrival could only be Penelope. He quickened his steps and reached her without delay.

"You."

Her voice, a low whisper, contained a night full of anger in just one syllable. She pointed an accusatory finger at his upper chest.

"You stole my only chance to reclaim my past and right my future. You should have allowed me to speak to Simon."

With a furtive glance down the dark hallway, he made quick work of opening his chamber door but as he did so, she took two steps back, her startled gasp an echo in the stillness of the night.

"I can't go in there with you. Those are your rooms."

"I know." Her incredulous objection broke through the serious circ.u.mstance and he almost smiled despite the evening's affairs. Not one to pour vinegar into a sour situation, he stifled his grin and continued. "Very well. Let's move down the hall. There is a common parlor on the left."

Once inside, he started a few candles from the hallway lantern, although he didn't need the added light to illuminate Penny's despair. When she'd confronted him outside his bedchamber, condemnation darkened her eyes prompting his sigh of relief. How he welcomed anger instead of tears. He watched as she moved further within the parlor, her disappointment visible, yet as her eyes pa.s.sed over the room, curiosity must have taken hold.

"Why is everything covered with sheets and blankets?" She moved further through the arrangement of blanketed furniture toward one of the tall windows, her back to him as she asked the question. He finished lighting the fire in the grate and stood.

"With my sister in Brighton and only my bedchamber on this floor, there is no reason to keep this room open." The mundane conversation accomplished much in lessening the tension though Phineas knew he was not nearly out of deep water.

"I needed to speak to Simon alone."

Her tone spoke more of defeat than anything else. The corner of her mouth trembled.

"I could never allow it." Would he ever understand the depth of emotion that existed between Penelope and Ridley? Why did Penelope keep her secrets tucked so safely inside and what would it take to earn her trust? "Arlis Ridley is a dishonorable man. As long as he continues, no one is safe. I cannot permit you anywhere near him. He's dangerous because he's desperate."

"I know his capabilities better than anyone and that changes nothing. I must speak to him." She spun from the window and charged forward. "But now he will run off and disappear as quickly as he did after disgracing me at home."

Disgracing her? A stab of fury provoked his words with more force than intended. "I forbid it. I forbid you going anywhere near him." He should have pummeled Ridley when he'd had the chance, never mind wait for the opportunity in two days' time.

"You forbid me? Forbid me? Now you're a bully? Forcing me to your will? You are neither my father nor my guardian to tell me what I am allowed to do. I am not a child."

"You're behaving as one. Ridley's goal is adroit malice. You're not thinking clearly." He could never forgive himself if harm befell her when he felt solely responsible for keeping her safe.

"I must speak to Simon."

Her quick retort warned him to take a different path in search of answers.

"Simon Maddock. Arlis Ridley. A man is only as honest as his name and whatever this man calls himself, I want you nowhere near him." He threaded his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Why don't you tell me what is so urgent you need to speak to him; so vital to your existence you care little for your own safety when it comes to this disreputable character?" He used her words against her. If only she would offer him the truth, trust him and confide in him, but the pretty little package in front of him excelled at prevarication. She stood before him silhouetted by the firelight, so small and fragile in her bedclothes, he wondered how she ever planned to extract retribution from such a proficient blackguard as Ridley.

"Does he have your heart?"

The question may have startled her as she jerked to attention, her eyes flared wide.

A wordless moment pa.s.sed, then another.

"He has much more than that."

Phineas inhaled a measured breath. "What exactly does that mean? It is time you tell me the whole of it." His voice firm and void of anger, urged her to deem him worthy of trust. She had already carried the burden of her past far too long.

Some emotion akin to self-disgust washed over her face before she answered. When she spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I could never do that. It would change everything. Most especially the way you feel about me."

"Believe me, nothing could change the way I feel about you. I've tried." He gentled his tone. "Let me be strong for you."

"It isn't your concern."

Her shoulders softened with the last utterance, as if she surrendered to a definite s.h.i.+ft in power. A cascade of chestnut hair fell forward with the graceful motion and if he held any fist of control on his desire, it remained no more.

"From the morning I met you, you've been my concern. You occupy my thoughts every waking minute." You collided with my heart the instant we knocked together on the day of your arrival.

But no, he couldn't tell her how firmly she was planted there.

Three paces brought them together. His insistent hold on her silk-covered shoulders radiated heat throughout his body. He tilted her chin up with the tip of his finger and watched as she struggled to blink back tears, her crystalline eyes nearly overflowing.

"Tell me the whole of it, so I can understand. Let me help you solve this problem so we can move forward." He paused, unsure if he should speak his mind, but unwilling to give himself any reason for doubt once this night pa.s.sed. "Together."

His words skittered down her spine like a skipping stone on the surface of a lake before they sank and settled in her heart. Penelope heard the gravity in his voice, but hesitation held her speechless. Oh, the disgrace of it all. Having carried the shame of poverty and guilt of her actions for so long, as well as the humiliation of being jilted at the altar, it would feel wonderful to share the burden, if only for one night. From the first day she'd met Phineas, he'd proved nothing except considerate and charming, the epitome of chivalry, and she'd reluctantly returned his kindness with half truths and elusive answers. Yet something in his expression gave her strength.

She squeezed her eyes shut and allowed the tears to slide free as indecision swelled and pushed her emotions past their limit.

"I'm sorry." The words whispered over her lips.

His warm mouth found the corners of her lids. The comfort of his tender caress reached her core and she shuddered with the expression, her eyes sealed tight; too afraid of what she might see reflected in his glittering gaze this time if she dared open them.

Instead, the press of his lips met hers in a kiss of true longing, as if he sought the same solace as she, and the give and take of their embrace was the only thing that mattered. It all at once transformed into hot liquid heat, his devastating kiss tearing her apart piece by piece, and completing her all the same. She lost herself to his strength, allowing the feelings she suppressed for so long to consume and ignite a burning path to her heart.

In a breath, they were one, as though he'd forever held back the same tide of longing. A shuddered sigh escaped as he leaned in a fraction and captured her mouth more fully. His insistent kiss, hungry with want, reeled her senses from his ardent demand, the strong press of his body, the delicious sleek shape of his smooth s.h.i.+fting muscles tight against her breast. She parted her lips, a beguiling invitation, and in swept his tongue, greedily seeking hers, rubbing in a slow sensual dance that hinted at intimacies and forbidden desires. She had never experienced anything to compare, never imagined the tidal wave of sensations that rushed through her body and urged her to treasure his caress.

Releasing inhibition, she melted into the wall of his body, absorbing his heat and surrendering to his touch. He smelled heavenly of rich cologne and masculine strength; the heady combination of his nearness and intent an anxious aphrodisiac. She tunneled her fingers through his hair, drawing him closer. He answered with a deep murmur of approval, his body flush against hers, the thin silk of her evening wrapper barely a barrier to the insistence of his ardor.

He left her lips to explore her neck and her eyes shot open, immediately bereft, her breathing high and fast with the unbearable urgency to have him return. She needed him, begged for him, whether she deserved his affection or not, all she knew was sensation and aching want. He nipped a path to her shoulder, spreading the wrapper wide in one strong tug. It slid to the floor in a silky puddle. The tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s tightened, hard against the press of his strong chest and she yearned to be closer, to feel his skin, hot and hard, against her own. She withdrew, the width of a suggestion, and with trembling fingers removed his waistcoat, dropping it to the carpet beside her robe. She reached to untie his cravat, but he stayed her fingers, intertwining them in his own as he recaptured her mouth, his tongue creating delicious friction with each rub and tug, his teeth on her bottom lip, drawing with sweet pleasure. With a curt snap he removed his cravat, abandoning the cloth with a grunt of approval. He paused to cradle her face and she lost herself in the sultry invitation of his amber eyes.

Emboldened by pent desire, she pressed a kiss to the cleft in his chin, her tongue dragging across the indentation before she moved upward to his delicious mouth, her bid for sensual attention welcomed with a slow liquid grin. He groaned his appreciation as she slipped her tongue into his mouth to explore with curious pa.s.sion, the taste of him, the feel of his teeth against the satin of her lips, the sheer power of their tongues rubbing and igniting the heat within her, low and deep. With reckless pa.s.sion, she drew on his tongue and he embraced her tighter, his hands cupping her bottom, matching their bodies in the most intimate places.

When he spoke, his voice was a low seductive murmur in the near darkness of the room whispering over her skin, leaving a trail of s.h.i.+vers in its wake.

"Sweet heaven, you feel incredible."

His palm covered her breast and before she could appreciate the t.i.tillating heat of his touch, his mouth replaced his fingers, sucking through the silk, the wet fabric clinging to the peak, making the experience wicked and blissful and terribly forbidden. She gasped as his teeth brushed over her nipple, arching in instinct, offering him more of her, in return needing more of him.