The Midnight Rake Part 4

Chapter Six.

Penelope was becoming adept at keeping secrets. When she'd arrived to the city with its expensive avenues and properties, she harbored heartfelt grat.i.tude for Lady Fenhurst. Less than a week ago, her life was at its bleakest. Now the last few days had transformed into a fairytale from a humble country cottage to a lavish London townhouse. And she was on her way to a function of the haut ton. The tumultuous series of events spun through her head with unbridled excitement.

Still the true impetus of her exhilaration sat across from her. She appreciated the perfection found in Phineas this evening, waiting across the drawing room unbelievably handsome in his formal attire. She liked him well enough in a linen s.h.i.+rt on the picnic blanket. She never expected him to exceed her wildest imaginings by appearing heart-stoppingly handsome in a cutaway tail coat and cravat.

He'd smiled at her when she'd come through the doorway, a devastatingly rakish smile, and his hair caught a warm gloss from the firelight. She would always remember his image and the invigorating rush of her heartbeat in that moment.

Now, ensconced in comfortable silence within the carriage, her pulse thrummed in her ears begging her to produce a sc.r.a.p of clever conversation. But did it even matter? Phineas belonged to a highly respected family favored by the good ton. Why would he give her a second thought? Likely every flirtatious debutante in London offered him their adoration.

She stole another glance beneath lowered lashes. His wavy brown hair was combed away from his face to lend him a boyish look, while broad, strong shoulders filled his navy blue waistcoat marking him all man. Penelope averted her eyes to where a perfectly folded cravat brushed his chin. He had the nicest cleft there. If only she could reach across and touch the indentation, feel the roughened dip of skin, appreciate the strength of such a st.u.r.dy attractive chin. It somehow made her feel safe. Could a facial feature do that? His amber eyes glistened in the lantern light whenever he turned to speak. She blinked hard to stifle her preoccupation, then recited a silent litany of self-admonishment to quiet the bevy of b.u.t.terflies come to life in her stomach.

It was all for naught, to notice and memorize each of his features as if it would matter in the end. How wonderful to live in his home and become acquainted with his family, and to stop worrying about the rent or sufficient food for their meals. Oh, it was the least she owed Aubry. But in regard to Phineas, she squelched any hope. She was nothing more than the eldest daughter of a country baron and penniless to boot. Once the extent of her mistakes became known, he would be forced to distance himself or run the risk of shameful embarra.s.sment. The realization that she might cause the Betcham family discomfiture threatened to surface but she declined to let it take hold.

"Do you think it will be a large crush?" Her voice broke on the words. She hoped her tangled rush of emotions didn't show in her eyes.

"I am sure of it and that reminds me." He picked up the split seat of the bench, removed a small box and opened it to reveal several masks and dominoes.

"I wasn't sure what color you would be wearing this evening so I purchased one in every hue."

He offered her the box and she took it to her lap. Every mask appeared lovelier than the next, the decision difficult, until she selected a gold and green pairing accented with peac.o.c.k feathers. With the patterned silk of her gown, she knew it presented the perfect match.

"Which will you wear?" She handed him the box and waited for his answer. He chuckled, a warm rich sound, much like the hot chocolate she drank when she was a child.

"I'm not a partic.i.p.ant when it comes to the masquerading aspect of the evening. My mother attempts to convince me every year, but I'm not one to play at idle games."

"Don't you find the masquerading amusing? The idea of dancing and socializing while hidden behind a mask sounds enthralling. And tonight, it serves my purpose well. I noticed a solid blue mask near the bottom of the pile. It would complement your suit." She looked up at him with a hopeful note in her voice.

Phin's amber eyes locked to hers, his expression unreadable. When he did not reply, she replaced the lid on the box, but he stalled her hand. His grasp, incredibly strong, awoke an unbidden spark of desire that intensified the intimate confines of the carriage.

"Far be it from me to ruin your fun." His low murmur whispered through the shadowy lantern light. "Tonight, for you, I will make an exception." Then he winked at her and she forgot to breathe.

With purposeful fingers he removed the blue domino and placed it on the bench. Penelope detected an approximation of indecision and wondered at his odd expression. Did he hold his own secret? Or worse, did she look too deeply, tainted by her experience and wary of everyone since Simon played her false? All her misery began and ended with that one despicable individual.

"I am hopeful I will be able to locate the person I seek this evening. Imagine my good fortune if it should all prove so easy." She tried to sound as if her future did not depend on it.

"I will a.s.sist you in any manner I am able."

He appeared relaxed again, his eyes sincere.

"I realize you have only requested an escort, but were you to tell me the gentleman's name I could help with expediency."

Indecision forced the b.u.t.terflies in her stomach into a panicked flutter. She strove to keep her courage intact and breech the uncomfortable silence. "I wouldn't want you or your mother to feel any type of involvement on my behalf. You have already shown me great generosity."

Sensing his disappointment, she focused on the domino lying beside him. His fingers worked idly at the edge of the mask, his skillful movements manipulating the ribbon in a repeated pattern. His hands, large and powerful, exuded a sense of control and she exhaled with calm. Transfixed, she watched his fingers bend, then smooth, the thin ribbon in a repeated motion. How might it feel were those same fingers tilting her chin to capture a kiss? Or intertwined in hers as they shared a waltz? Good lord, she was every kind of fool. Having once risked her heart with disastrous results, why could she not learn to be more prudent?

Upset she may have spoiled the evening before they'd arrived, Penelope fumbled for any explanation he would accept. "I'm sorry I cannot explain further. It's a private matter and as such, is imperative I find and speak to him alone."

"Then you leave me no choice." He turned to her with a serious look, his face half lit by the lantern, handsome and unwavering in the fractured light. "I will shadow you, protect you and keep you under my watchful eye until this business of yours is concluded."

His statement pre-empted argument and she wondered at his protective att.i.tude. Did she imagine his tone implied something beyond friends.h.i.+p? The niggling thought refused to sit right. Wasn't this how she found disaster the first time? By not seeing things clearly?

The carriage pulled to a stop interrupting her muddled considerations and Penelope promptly exited, grasping Phin's arm as he led her away from the drive and down the candlelit walkway. She almost stumbled when he stopped without warning, his purposeful strides veering them off the path and behind a tall hedgerow.

"Phineas?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, as if they played a child's game.

Without a word, he positioned her gently, his fingers embracing her bare shoulders and with a twist, she no longer faced him. Then he slipped from her grasp the mask she'd long forgotten, bringing it over her head while he deftly sorted the ribbon ties.

"It won't do for us to walk inside without our disguises in place."

Although his words rushed past her ear, his fingers stalled in motion. Two of the ribbons fell and brushed against her shoulders. Phineas fumbled to recapture them, his knuckles sweeping across her cheekbone in an unexpected caress. Then he s.h.i.+fted position, and muttered something under his breath.

After a motionless minute, she could no longer contain her giggle. "The mask is slipping." Her cheeky smile buoyed it into place. If only she could see his face and understand what he was thinking.

Instead standing in the intimate shadows, she heard him mumble words undecipherable as his fingers tightened the knots. After a rough sounding exhale, he stepped away busy with his own disguise, his body slanted from her view. They followed the slate path together and found themselves in the ballroom trailing an endless receiving line. There was nothing to do but wait, although the momentary delay offered the perfect opportunity to absorb the lavish decorations and opulent splendor surrounding them.

Brilliant crystal chandeliers, glistening with candlelight and s.h.i.+mmering reflection hung from the ceiling amidst streamers and bowers strewn with orchids. Servants, bedecked in their finest livery and laden with trays of sparkling wine, mingled through a crowd composed of pirates, shepherdesses and a.s.sorted wild animals, the masks perfectly matched to silk and satin formal attire in every color of the spectrum. Lively music filled the air, while conversation competed for attention within the revelry. Penelope hardly knew where to look first.

"Ridiculous crush, really."

Phineas tucked her hand into his elbow and snaked them across the room, past a tall couple masquerading as owls, and around the other side where they stood amongst the hundred or so guests in total anonymity. At least for Penelope it remained true as everyone appeared a stranger.

"Here comes Lord Chadling. Harold is a good friend of mine."

Phin's deep voice next to her ear shot a thrilling s.h.i.+ver straight down her spine, the excitement of being out in society getting the best of her. There was no other way to explain the odd reaction.

"But how can you recognize your friend so readily? Everyone is disguised." She looked up into glinting amber eyes. The domino made him look mysterious and intriguing, and his lips...his lips were showcased below the edge of the velvet. Penelope lost all train of thought as she concentrated on his mouth and that wonderful cleft in his chin.

"Easily, actually. No one dresses as well as Harold and the debutantes all know it. See the twittering wave of commotion following as he moves towards us." Phineas indicated a gentleman to the right only a few steps away. A collection of fluttering females trailed after him.

"Oh, yes." Penelope smiled. The man appeared a sharp dresser in every way. He wore a rich waistcoat with intricate threaded embroidery and s.h.i.+ny gold b.u.t.tons. Tight fitted pantaloons led to gleaming top boots while his white lace cravat, tied extravagantly, was pinned with a blood-red ruby. His masquerade domino enhanced the look with its stark black velvet contrasting his fair skin and blond hair.

"Harold." Phineas nodded his head in greeting before his friend walked by.

"Devil take me, I didn't know that was you. First the mask and then the lovely lady. You are in disguise tonight, are you not?" Harold stalled mid-step. He a.s.sessed the situation with a mocking smile.

"May I present Miss Penelope Rosebery." Phineas introduced Harold and they exchanged pleasantries followed by Chadling's prompt request to dance.

She looked to Phineas, all at once unsure.

"Go ahead, my sweet."

He stared at her intently, an odd look setting his lips in a firm line and confirming the unexpected tone of his reply. Penelope hesitated.

"It will offer you a glimpse of the guests in attendance because it's so d.a.m.nably crowded in here, it will be difficult to circulate otherwise."

Harold did not wait for indication, sweeping her forward to the floor and fluidly into position.

He smiled as they began, a congenial expression, and led her into the motion of the dance.

"You are a pleasant surprise. While Phin is at times most forthcoming, he is also a man who keeps us guessing. Even in the company of his closest friends, he rarely attends social affairs, hardly ever with a guest, and absolutely never wearing a domino. You have worked three miracles in an amazingly short period of time."

He spoke without missing a step, his voice hinting at amus.e.m.e.nt and Penelope caught the intent of his words.

"Viscount Fenhurst and I have become unlikely friends. I hope to locate someone here in London and the Countess proposed attending events of the ton to a.s.sist in my search. I'm not sure Phineas would be present otherwise. He's already told me of his aversion to masquerades and the disguise required."

Dancers swirled around them and they were prohibited from conversation as they neared the musicians' corner.

"True, Phin is not much for the formality of social functions. He has always enjoyed the fresh air compared to the confining rituals of the ton. I'm sure it vexes his mother as she's of an opposed nature. Phineas enters an event antic.i.p.ating when he can effectuate his leave. He's always gone from social gatherings by the fifth dance of the evening, a shade before midnight. One could set a clock by his withdrawal, yet the way he loves to eat, one would think he'd stay through dinner and dessert."

Harold grinned as they completed another turn. He was an amazing dancer and with only a half glance at the gentleman's charming smile, Penny understood why so many females clamored after his attention. "Well I'm hopeful he'll stay long enough for me to get a look at as many guests as possible, even if they are wearing masks."

Harold chuckled. "Know the fellow so well you would recognize him regardless, hmm? Well, I'd wager Phin won't stay much longer. It's already past eleven. You have been good for him. This may be a new social record."

"Doesn't he enjoy gathering with his friends?" Curiosity motivated the inquiry more than anything else.

The music ended and Harold led her from the floor. They'd almost reached the edge of the room when he turned with a disarming smile. "I've always a.s.sumed Phineas keeps a different kind of friend tucked away somewhere in London and he slips from these functions to go and visit her. It makes sense, considering his mother and her ambitious quest to see him settled."

To her dismay, the conversation proceeded no further as Phineas rejoined them. Harold left directly, though his parting comment lingered and thwarted her every attempt to extinguish the questions it raised.

"Did you see anyone of interest?"

Phineas' eyes darted around the room as if he knew for whom she looked. The idea pleased her. How quickly he'd become her champion.

Inching closer to his side, she went up on tippy-toe and strained to see above the crowd, using his nearness for balance. "I didn't have an opportunity to search." She stepped forward, a tiny opening in the crowd allowing her an advantage. "Would you mind if we took a turn around the ballroom? It may be crowded, but it will be the only chance I have to look at the guests despite they're wearing masks."

She glanced behind her, all at once entranced. Candlelight reflected in Phineas' amber eyes and cast a golden glow across the thick tawny waves of his hair. He towered over her, shadowing her steps, and she forced herself not to reach for him, feeling suddenly unsteady, his closeness pure enticement. She needed to seek Simon alone, but how much better she'd prefer it if Phin held her arm as she circled the ballroom.

"Move about unescorted? I don't think that a wise idea considering the amount of people here. I would never find you again."

He delivered the words, his lips barely brus.h.i.+ng the edge of her cheek, the possessive murmur for her ear alone. She could feel the firm wall of his chest against her shoulder and his cologne, an exotic mixture of spice and masculinity, awakened her senses; the immediate rush of awareness causing her heart to trip over itself. Before she could examine the feelings, he straightened with an abrupt turn toward the oncoming flow.

"Here comes Maman. She will take you around the room as she greets her friends. It may serve a dual purpose as I have an appointment to keep."

Penelope watched as Phineas greeted his mother and explained the circ.u.mstances. Then much to her dismay, he thanked her for a pleasant evening, kissed her glove, and faded into the throng of people without another word. It all happened so swiftly she could only stare in bewilderment as an overflow of guests filled the vacant spot where he once stood.

Disappointment, a familiar feeling, replaced the thrilling prospect of being held in his arms. Instead, the unsettling remembrance of Lord Chadling's a.s.sumption that Phineas left social functions with fastidious punctuality to seek out his paramour, cast pallor on the evening that could not be overcome.

Chapter Seven.

Phineas swung into the saddle and allowed Abacus free rein. He'd discarded his domino in a potted plant as he slipped from the Pimbles' masquerade then promptly hailed a hackney to return to the townhouse and retrieve his horse. Only now did he release a long breath and relax. The hour had grown later than he'd intended and Penelope presented a complication in more ways than one.

On the most immediate level, his role of reluctant escort at social functions would impede his jaunts into the night to investigate Daniel Winton. The man had become all but invisible since breaking off with Julia. Several inquiries yielded nothing. At least Con proved an invaluable resource by securing this bit of information. Phin planned to meet Devlin near the alleyway of a gaming h.e.l.l holding his interest.

Penelope.

She presented another, albeit different type of problem. He had struggled to control any semblance of feelings toward her all evening. d.a.m.n Harold for asking her to dance and forcing him to allow it. d.a.m.n good manners. How sick and tired he was of succ.u.mbing to propriety when he wanted nothing more than to tell his friend to walk away. Harold was another delusional fellow with his mind set on marriage. Once a woman piqued his interest, little could stop Harold from pursuing her.

Not that it should matter. The irony proved rich. Penny sought a different gentleman altogether.

Still he'd be d.a.m.ned if he stood there and watched Harold escort her through the dance. He had stepped to the hallway to cool his temper. It was one thing to want someone, but the power in the wanting existed in the return of the same sentiment and there, too, lay the power to destroy someone's heart. If he'd learned anything from the past, it was love proved a fickle emotion. He'd not be controlled by the weakness.

He nudged Abacus into a harder gallop as a ready image of Penelope dressed in her ball gown, the soft silk hugging every delicious curve of her delectable body, rose with clarity. He'd looked out the coach window for much of the trip to force his body to behave, however it proved all for naught. When their fingers intertwined as she offered him the ribbons of her mask, her hair as soft as corn silk whispering against his palms, he'd gone stone hard. Only her laughter spurred him into action. Otherwise he would have stood there indefinitely enjoying the lovely curve of her neck. How it dared him to lean forward and trail hot kisses further below. With effort he'd willed himself not to push his fingers into her hair and knock the pins free.

What would her hair feel like curtaining his body as she rode him into ecstasy? Or sweeping against his chest as he pulled her down and beneath him? The thought did little to temper his body. At the time, he'd felt a.s.sured he could claim one dance for the evening, but Harold muddied everything with his intrusion. And to what end? Once Penelope located her mystery man would she float right out of his life as she had floated in? An unexpected flash of anger caused him to urge Abacus on.

Reaching the alleyway, he eyed Devlin near the wall, his dark hair and like attire making him another shadow in the night. Phin banished his conflicting emotions with a displeased oath. He tied off his horse before checking the knife kept in his left boot. One could never be too prepared and while he prided himself as an accomplished boxer, the Pall Mall section of London was filled with disreputable card sharps and ivory turners desperate and angry after emptying their pockets. He would leave nothing to chance.

"You're late." Devlin's accusation held a tint of humor.

"I arrived as soon as possible. I came from the Pimbles' masquerade and I..."

"Pimbles'? You despise masquerades almost as much as you despise gaming h.e.l.ls." Devlin inclined his head toward the brick establishment across the murky alley. "Tell me why we're here before I gain you entry."

"Through a few discreet inquiries, Con learned Winton rarely misses the late night faro game on West Street. I promised Julia I would pursue the cad and discover why he has thrown her over." Phineas paused considering his vow to his sister. "I appreciate you meeting me here in the middle of the night."

"No trouble. Dedication to your sister and her distress is an honorable cause." Devlin glanced across the alleyway and beyond to the sounds of questionable activities filling the night. "It does seem like forever ago I frequented these streets although a gambler I never became." He laughed into the night air. "I doubt you considered asking Harold or Con to help you gain entry here."

Phineas examined the ground, unable to disguise his guilty grin. "Without a doubt, you're the best suited. Harry considers it scandalous to mention the words "gaming h.e.l.l" and Constantine, I doubt he would relish being seen in a place like this."

"It is nice to know you hold me in such high esteem." An awkward silence chased Devlin's mockery.

"Don't be put off. Your history alone will usher us through the door. Now let's get this over with. It's already close to half one." Phineas did not consider how his mother would object were she to discover where he ventured. She viewed him as a paragon of merit and etiquette. Nor did he contemplate his father's opinion, as Phineas knew in the same deep timbered voice that forbade him from pursuing the military, the earl would object to him jeopardizing the pristine Betcham reputation. He considered the gold signet ring worn on his right hand. With t.i.tle and wealth came responsibility: a lesson learned from his sire at a very young age and a constant reminder he remained accountable for everything Betcham in and out of London until his father returned from traveling the world.

Devlin gave a derisive snort, forcing him to the present.

"Yes, of course. Let me pave the way, as you are far too estimable and perfectible to take on the task."

The men crossed the cobbles, avoiding a gin-drinker sleeping off his evening near the curb, and took the brick steps leading to the dark entrance of the h.e.l.l. Across the street, arguing broke out; two men close to fisticuffs concerning the outcome of a game of hazard, although only their raised voices could be heard, the night a convenient cloak for all things reckless.

Phin sliced a meaningful glare in Devlin's direction. The sooner they got on with their business, the better. He feigned a sheepish expression, moved to the side and indicated Devlin should take the foreground.

True to his word, the next moment they stood amongst the card turners and black legs frequenting the establishment while his promise to Julia kept his attention keen. They walked through the series of gaming rooms, glancing side to side for Winton, and soon realized the man they sought was not among the sketchy set of individuals playing at whist, faro and dice.

Set to leave, a table ripe with loud activity drew Phin's attention and his temper flared. Arlis Ridley, as boisterous as he'd appeared at Tatts, played cards with a few gentlemen. If the chips in front of him proved any indication, Ridley was having a good night, though one could never be sure how much a gambler owed at any particular time. Their eyes met, but Phineas refused to acknowledge him. He returned to Devlin at the front of the h.e.l.l.

"Winton hasn't been in this evening, but he frequents this place often. We should try again later in the week. Con was spot on with his information." Devlin cast another sweeping glance, intent on missing no detail.