Part 10 (2/2)
”Phineas, you don't appear the least bit hungry. Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas? Is something wrong? You need to eat.”
It would be impossible to convince his mother he wasn't hungry. He was always hungry, so he skewered a thick piece of ham on his plate in an attempt to take interest in the fare, while his mind spun with images of what he'd like to do with the delectable temptation seated across the table. Chef Pierre would never be able to replicate such a mouth-watering delicacy. He'd best tuck the thoughts away, as there would be no opportunity to steal a private moment with Penelope this morning, or anytime else.
Since their chance meeting in the garden two nights past, they'd schooled their emotions and acknowledged their relations.h.i.+p as one of friends.h.i.+p, nothing more. At least they both resolved to give that appearance.
He glanced to her now, looking utterly charming in cheerful conversation with her sister.
This morning she wore a simple yellow day gown with light green embroidery circling the white lace collar. Her hair hung in silky waves around her shoulders, except where she'd captured a sweep behind one dainty ear. A single tendril had escaped her attention and hooked mischievously below the line of her bodice. He rubbed his palms together, his fingers twitching to free the renegade lock.
Maman cleared her throat.
With reluctance, he formed some sort of answer. ”I'm distracted, nothing more.” He took a hearty bite of bread and chewed with feigned enthusiasm. ”I have a lot on my mind as of late.” Naughty daydreams and even more scandalous night dreams...yes. Hotly erotic remembrances of kissing Penelope occupied his mind with zeal.
”Dorothy is expected for tea this afternoon. Aubry has lessons.” Victoria Betcham paused as a servant cleared her plate and replaced the service. ”I'd like if you and Penelope joined us.”
He glanced to Penny, a ready smile on his lips. He would enjoy nothing more than to share an afternoon outing with her, but he was not sure it was possible. His eyes dropped lower, distracted with the single tantalizing curl, the exact shade of brown sugar, trapped against her skin. It must tickle, at least one would think. Didn't she feel the sensation? He did.
A fluttering of feathers announced Mon Ami's bid for attention. ”Find a wife. Settle down.”
The parrot chimed in with such accuracy, he wondered if the daft bird communicated with his mother through telepathic means. He loosened the stranglehold of his neckcloth and noticed Penelope and Aubry engrossed in a conspiratorial whisper.
”Maman, who is teaching Mon Ami these ridiculous phrases?” He speared another piece of ham with conviction. ”Every time I am forced to share his company, I hear a litany of senseless dribble.” He again considered the possibility his mother had sunk to a new, lower level and entreated the bird in her efforts to see him wed. He could not discard the idea as inconceivable.
Aubry responded before his mother could reply.
”I've read a pa.s.sage about parrots during my studies. Mon Ami is repeating phrases he has heard spoken out of context. While parrots can mimic language, they cannot communicate unless taught a pattern of phrases to give the appearance of conversation.”
A scornful sound escaped Phin's throat before he could stifle it. ”I'm not so sure.”
Penelope giggled and raised her eyes to match his across the table. d.a.m.nation, if she didn't unhook that silky tress soon, he'd be suffering another type of problem altogether, an inevitable battle of l.u.s.t versus decorum.
”Excellent point. Your tutors would be pleased.” Victoria beamed with satisfaction. ”Don't you agree?”
Lifting his fork, Phineas chased the last bite of meat across his plate. ”I'm wondering as to the conversations your infernal feathered nuisance overhears and how often you confide in him.” He captured the piece of ham and chewed, as if not debating the fact his mother held a regular tte-a-tte with a macaw.
”Pay him no heed, ladies. My son has never valued the companions.h.i.+p Mon Ami has provided.” From the corner of his eye, Phin watched her lean forward as if she didn't want him to hear. ”He's jealous of the attention Mon Ami garners.”
Blast, his mother could behave in ridiculous fas.h.i.+on. About to respond, he stalled as he watched Penny reach for her gla.s.s, the tempting ribbon of hair captured tightly against the soft slope of her breast. Soon the loud pounding of his heart would drown out the disruptive growl of his stomach. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded strained. ”I won't acknowledge your comment with a response and I will not be available for tea. Please extend my regrets to Lady Livingston.”
Antic.i.p.ating his departure, Maman laid down her silver, turning a warm smile in Penny's direction. ”Will you join us?”
”She's the one. She's the one.” A rash flutter of wings brought everyone's attention to the parrot's pithy interjection.
Phineas threw his napkin at the cage, but the ridiculous bird did little beside bob its head at the oncoming linen, safe and secure on its perch.
”Pigeon.”
Mon Ami did not respond to his insult. Nonetheless, Phin prided himself on having the last word. He slanted Penelope a glance in response to her laughter. She gathered her hair over her shoulder in one fluid movement displacing the delightful curl, his daydreams swept away in its wake. d.a.m.n it to h.e.l.l, he remembered the taste of her skin, the tremble of her pulse against his lips, all too well. His gaze settled on her mouth when she spoke.
”Please accept my apologies. I promised my cousin Elizabeth an overdue trip to the shops this afternoon. I should send her a quick note.”
”It's of no matter, dear. Lady Livingston is here often. You will meet her upon the next visit. We are...how do you say it, son?”
If she suggested he translate two birds of a feather, he was summoning a doctor to this madhouse, but no, this time his mother made sense.
”Les soeurs du coeur.”
”Sisters of the heart.” Phin turned to Penelope and Aubry. ”My mother and Lady Livingston are the best of friends. I'm sure you'll become fond of her. I know I have.” He smiled and stood, about to take his leave when Jenkins entered the room, Constantine and Harold on his heels.
”Tres bien! Come in and join us. Please make introductions.” Maman motioned in his direction. ”You don't need to be told.”
Of course he didn't and resented the unnecessary reminders issued. He sent her an arched stare and ensured everyone became acquainted before Aubry excused herself for morning lessons. Directly after, his mother took her leave and the remaining friends moved to the sitting room with delightful chatter and laughter filling the hall.
”I brought you a few of my best wines. I left them with Jenkins. To celebrate your mother's arrival, of course.” Constantine cleared his throat causing a deliberate pause. ”And to help you cope.”
”She will be pleased, especially with Chef Pierre in the kitchen. Thank you. You should note Maman is only residing in house temporarily. She prefers the country and I, my sanity.” An odd unease accompanied his statement, hoping his friends wouldn't choose to exploit his mother's overprotective nature in front of Penelope. They were correct, of course, but he did not wish to become the subject of further embarra.s.sment.
In the parlor, they reposed in comfortable chairs around the marble table closest to the rear windows. A casual air enveloped the room and Phineas noted how perfectly Penny fit into his life. The pleasing thought entertained him until Harry caught everyone's attention with an enthusiastic announcement.
”I've come with an invitation for this evening. I know it is short notice, but I've organized a splendid gathering.” Harold leaned forward, anxious to extend his news. ”It will be an excellent way for Penelope to form new acquaintances within the social set. Besides,” Harold paused, a good natured smile across his face, ”who wouldn't enjoy an evening of frivolity and parlor games?”
Phin halted his ready retort, not one to find amus.e.m.e.nt in charades and other games bandied about during the season. Many an evening had been ruined when his insistent sister beleaguered him into partic.i.p.ating in one of her socials. More the pity he'd had to play endless games of Lookabout and Blindman's Bluff. He once tripped over a misplaced bootjack while blindfolded and swore he'd never be convinced to engage again.
But now Penelope's feelings were involved. He did not want to see disappointment in her sparkling jade eyes and while the room grew silent waiting for his response, one look at her expectant gaze convinced him he would happily play the fool all night if it brought her pleasure.
”Sounds like grand fun.” Achieving a tone of enthusiasm for Harold's benefit, he eyed Constantine in warning. His friend chuckled on the heels of his answer. In truth, no matter how much they dreaded Harry's idea of willful stupidity, they were all good friends. At least Devlin was not present, or the jibes would never cease.
”So which games will we play?” Con's tone revealed his intent to instigate trouble, unfortunately Phin had no real way to stop him.
”Whist? Faro? Vingt-et-Un? Maybe not cards at all?” Con paused for dramatic effect and Phin drummed his fingers against the chair arm waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.
”Perhaps a friendly game of Le Baiser la Capucine?”
”There'll be none of that.” Phin's loud objection prompted Penelope to question the meaning of the words and Harry, unable to display poor manners, translated the French as Guess the Kiss. Penny flushed a fetching shade of pink. Consequently, Phineas escorted his friends to the door.
”Intriguing t.i.tle for a game.” Penelope played with the collar of her day gown, her fingers flitting from one side to the other. ”Whatsoever is involved?”
”A great deal of kissing, I would imagine. Not that I've played myself.” He advanced across the parlor in two strides and eyed her with lively interest.
”But how would one know?”
”How would one forget?” He pushed back the lock of hair that fell forward on his brow, appreciating the delightful shade she'd colored with his question and then leaned against a nearby bookcase, his arms crossed over his chest. ”The right kiss has the power to imprint one's heart and ignite the blood, so little else matters until the taste, touch, secret of that kiss can be satisfied again.”
Penelope's eyes flared with his description and her fingers found her collar again. ”I see.” Then the vaguest suggestion of a smile washed over her lips, as if his words struck home but she refused to acknowledge them. She excused herself and rushed from the room and Phineas could not contain his mirth, a satisfied chuckle escaping as she fled.
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