Part 6 (2/2)
”Oh.” A sudden rush of heat infused her cheeks.
Somehow she managed a few steps backward until her bottom b.u.mped the wooden bal.u.s.trade. He braced one arm against the gazebo's support boxing her in and shadowing them with his chiseled physique deliciously outlined by the strained fabric of his sleeves. They stood memorizing each other's face as if nothing existed except their world within the precise moment.
Breathe. She needed to breathe. Logic faltered and antic.i.p.ation weighed down every effort. Would he kiss her? Should she allow it? Indignation was forgotten in favor of pleasure.
He captured her cheek in his palm and she blinked hard, not wanting to miss the slightest detail. He lowered his mouth, his beautiful, sensual mouth, a whisper away from her own and with a sigh of surrender, her eyes fell closed with exquisite expectancy of Phineas Betcham, man of her dreams- ”Phineas!”
They sprang apart as Victoria Betcham's voice broke through the hedgerow.
The sound of her heeled slippers on the flagstones did not override the harsh expletives escaping Phineas as he stepped back to answer his mother's bidding.
”Dinner is ready. What could be taking the two of you so long?”
Lady Fenhurst arrived and Penelope sent a silent prayer upward in hope she didn't appear flushed with guilt. She pushed away from the railing, relieved her knees regained their const.i.tution.
”Yes, Maman, we are coming straight away.”
He offered his arm, and Penelope tried to hide the way her hand trembled as she clasped on to steady herself, his muscles tight beneath her touch.
They walked in silence, several steps behind his mother, toward the back entrance to the estate. Then Phineas turned; a smile slinked across his face and a charming twinkle in his eye.
”My mother's timing may have spoiled our moment, but you owe me a boon and I never forget a debt, sweet Penny. Of this particular debt, you can be sure.”
Dinner ran with smooth elegance and Chef Pierre proved he'd missed the audience as dish after dish graced the table, each more delectable than the last. They finished the main entree of poulet au vin blanc, but were it not to one's liking the master chef had prepared twelve courses in all from thick soup to superfluous sauce. As was his specialty, there would be sugarplums and charlotte for dessert.
Aubry excused herself from the table, her eyes proving bigger than her stomach. Mildly embarra.s.sed, she left to recline in her bedchamber vowing to eat more moderately at the next meal.
”I'm afraid my sister is not accustomed to such an a.s.sortment of delicacies and could not resist having a small taste of each.”
Penelope attempted to make amends for Aubry's need to leave the table but Phineas barely heard the words, too fascinated with Penny's mouth. Her lips were the loveliest shade of pink ever seen and her bottom lip, so plump, begged to be kissed, licked, nibbled. He'd watched her hem it indecisively when considering a thoughtful response. He wouldn't mind catching it between his teeth and having a taste. Now that he'd decided one kiss would purge him of his unexpected curiosity, his imagination ran rampant.
His mother gave a blithe wave dismissing Penelope's comment. ”Do not worry. Nous la ferons un pet.i.t peu le francais.”
Phin chuckled at Penelope's concerned expression. ”Maman says she will help your sister become a little bit French while she lives here.”
”Oh, thank you. You've rescued me again. I'm not fluent with the language.”
She wrinkled her freckled nose and enhanced her beguiled expression. Phin hoped she didn't feel embarra.s.sment at the admittance. It took him years to master French and only then was he able to decipher his parent's arguments with alacrity.
”Don't worry. I am happy to serve as translator whenever the need presents itself. My mother becomes pa.s.sionate when discussing important topics.” Marriage, grandchildren. He dismissed the immediate suggestions and offered a rea.s.suring smile.
”As we all do. Now tell me, Penny, which course did you enjoy most?”
Maman grew more animated by the minute. She relished discussing food as much as he enjoyed consuming it.
”My goodness, I could never decide. Everything was so delicious, especially the poulet au vin blanc.” She pointed a tentative finger toward the steaming tureen of chicken and wine sauce as if unsure of her p.r.o.nunciation.
”That's Phin's favorite. How perfectly convenient! It is a decadent meal. How do you say it?” She turned in his direction. ”Il fond dans votre bouche.”
His fork paused, suspended halfway to his mouth. ”My mother wishes to say it melts in your mouth.” He cleared his throat in an attempt to clear his mind. It was not a far leap for him to imagine tasting Penelope as if she were a meal to be devoured.
”Oui, des que vous avez un pet.i.t got, vous voulez de plus en plus.”
”That once you have a little taste you want more and more.” He forced a heavy swallow and s.n.a.t.c.hed up his wine, curious if they still discussed the food. Between the tempting beauty seated across the table and the suggestive descriptions Maman needed translated, he would never make it through dessert without dragging Penelope upstairs to his bed. If his mother wasn't present he would clear the table with one sweep and set Penny atop it.
Appalled at the futility of the idea, Phin vowed to stop entertaining wicked fantasies. He took a deep breath and exhaled in measures. Glancing in Penelope's direction, he noticed she too had her gla.s.s refilled and sipped wine with vigor.
”Wait until dessert. It promises to be exquisite. Chef Pierre makes a charlotte so creamy and fulfilling, vous devriez mettre tout cela dans votre bouche!”
”Maman!” Phineas threw his napkin down on the damask tablecloth and shot from his seat. ”I am not going to suggest she put the whole thing in her mouth.”
Across the table a fork clattered to the marble tiles.
”Mon dieu! What is the matter with you?” Maman appeared shocked by his unexpected behavior.
Reseating himself, he drew a long, steadying breath. ”I think we understand how highly you regard the meal.” He sent his mother a sharp glare, wondering at her inconvenient inept.i.tude with English. He reclaimed his napkin with a mutter. ”Perhaps you need to utilize Aubry's language tutor as well.”
Chapter Ten.
True to their planning, the next day Phineas and Devlin waited in the carriage as Penelope and Lexi shopped in the best milliner on Bond Street. Phin didn't miss the gleam of delight that flittered across Penny's face when he'd mentioned the outing. At times it would appear she experienced little joy in her lifetime and a deep-seated desire to offer her new experiences and protect her from disappointment added another layer of emotion to the complicated feelings he harbored.
”What dark thoughts are you considering?” Devlin rapped him on the knee as he posed the question. ”You look angrier than an elbow-crooker who's run out of ale.”
”Nothing.” Phin nodded with the curt answer. ”So what was it you wished to discuss now that the ladies are busy spending a fortune on headwear?” He knew without a doubt Devlin would respect his abrupt change of subject and his friend proved on the mark.
”Talk continues concerning Ridley. He hasn't made good on the purchase price for Trump's grey and much as we suspected, he bid without the funding needed. Nothing is more despicable than a liar.” Devlin glanced out the coach window keeping a diligent watch on the milliner's doorway. ”Harold said Ridley started a fistfight at White's when he accused Richardson of cheating.”
”Richardson? The man is as honest as a full day's work.” Phineas huffed a breath of exasperation as he glanced out the window in turn. Their discussion of Ridley's poor habits provoked his desire to see the ladies safely inside the carriage and under their protection. ”Something about the man, other than the insult he poses against polite society, causes me to be wary of his actions.”
”I agree. Ridley is collecting enemies at a rapid pace. We should have Con ask a few questions. He entertains the best connections when it comes to this sort of thing.” Devlin slapped his gloves against the banquette in a restless gesture.
”True, but I've already put him out inquiring about Julia's predicament.” Phineas eyed his friend, impatience lacing his words. ”How many hats can there be in such a tiny shop?”
”Too many to consider, unfortunately.” Devlin scanned the street for the umpteenth time. ”When it comes to asking Con a favor, I a.s.sure you, he'll happily oblige. We're all friends. We take care of our own.”
”Yes, I'll mention it.” Phin dropped his gloves to the leather squabs before retrieving them a breath later. Then he tossed them aside and swatted Devlin's knee. ”Stretch your legs?”
”About time you suggested it.” Devlin sent a prompt rap to the ceiling and the men left the carriage.
Penelope slipped an exquisite Angouleme bonnet upon her head and tied the lavender ribbon at the side with a flourish. Trying on pretty hats was a new experience and one she soon realized became highly addictive. She turned to where Lexi admired her selection in the freestanding cheval gla.s.s. Her friend's blonde hair contrasted beautifully with the delicate lace trim. Each hat appeared more breathtaking than the last. How would they ever decide?
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