Part 12 (2/2)
Phineas rolled his eyes at his mother's dramatic declaration. ”I highly doubt that. However would you manage without Chef Pierre? You performed a miracle convincing him to come to London. It would be over his dead body to travel to the coast.”
His mother gave a little sniff of disapproval, aware no argument could be made. It surely pained her to concede.
”Never mind. You've given me a grand idea. Why not take Penelope along the sylvan through Richmond Park while I pay my call? The day is clear and the hour remains early enough to enjoy the verdant scenery.”
Penelope's eyes lit with a sparkle of vivacity. Their last planned excursion had gone terribly awry. It would be enjoyable to spend the afternoon in her company most especially now that his evening would be occupied with Elizabeth Bretton.
”It does sound lovely. I've never been past the western end of Piccadilly, nor into Mayfair. I would enjoy seeing the scenery.” Her cheerful reply erased any hesitation on his part.
By d.a.m.n, she looked beautiful. At least she was not consumed with her missing person of late. Did he dare hope she'd forgotten her intention?
”Then it's settled. We'll leave in one half hour.” Victoria rose and hurried to the door. ”I will need to change my gown and select my most ornate bonnet. Dorothy has a discerning eye.”
She muttered her way out of the room much to Phin's amus.e.m.e.nt.
Exactly thirty minutes later, the three of them rumbled down the cobblestone streets and the conversation within the coach flowed with ease. Phineas had no difficulty whatsoever imaging a life shared with many coach rides where Penny sat across from him looking as delightful as she did now in her pale pink day gown and matching silk gloves. Very fine gloves indeed.
And if he allowed his imagination free rein, she was not always primly in place, but sometimes astride him, naughtily entangled atop his lap, scantily clad, her luscious body strewn against the velvet bolster. Rioting images of innocence and sensuality, the two of them wrapped wildly in bed sheets bombarded his mind. He clamped them down with effort.
He glanced to his left, one look to his mother seated alongside effective in stifling his desire to pounce upon Penny. Better to save the luscious fantasies for later when he was alone in his bedchamber.
Chapter Seventeen.
The carriage let them out at the corner of Richmond Park and Phin helped Penny descend the coach steps as the midmorning rain scattered puddles along the path. Doing his best to steer clear of any mishap, they joined the promenade circling the greens. Already past four, the dandies supplied amusing conversation as did the beaus and bucks who vied for attention of every pa.s.sing female. They fell into a companionable silence and again he considered the contentment felt with Penelope by his side. How wonderful it would be to take her hand, remove her pretty silk glove and bring her palm to his lips. Or pull her behind a thick hedgerow and ravish her under the waning sun. He had no doubt she would taste wonderful. He would start at her lips and work his way downward.
By d.a.m.n, he needed to cool his ardor.
”Would you like a flavored ice?” He indicated the vendor on the side of the path with a purposeful nod. Yes, something cold. Ice. Good idea.
”I've never had one. That sounds-”
A hard sounding crack jerked their attention to a bend in the walkway. Hearing her alarmed gasp, Phin gripped Penny's hand where she held his elbow and anch.o.r.ed her to him. Before them a small group of children practiced cricket in a clearing of gra.s.s too close to the path to be considered safe. Several boys cheered and ran with reckless abandon, their cricket sticks in tow. Recognizing Vicar James from St. Anthony's Orphanage seated on a wooden bench on the far side of the field, Phin waved in greeting and debated if he should stride over to politely suggest the children practice farther from the promenade. He enjoyed cricket as a lad and had received his share of knocks during the game.
Having depositing Penny below a magnolia tree laden with pink blossoms the exact color of her lips, Phin went to purchase their ice. As he placed the order, a young lad with bright red hair lowered his bat and struck the ball with an off-center shot toward the wicket. It pitched high into the air and veered in a direct line with Penelope. Phineas called a warning, but not chancing her safety he leapt sharply into the path of the ball and s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of the air one-handed.
The children remained frozen in awe, but Penelope reached him in less time than it took to register the stinging pain in his palm.
”Oh, are you alright?”
Her concerned tone brought a reluctant smile to his face regardless his hand burned wickedly. Without hesitation, she removed her gloves and tucked them into her pocket before she brought his hand to her waist. She opened the two-b.u.t.toned closure at his wrist with an a.s.sertive gesture and removed his leather glove. Preoccupied with watching her fingers as they swept over his skin, he almost missed her tender expression. Were it not for her sharp intake of breath at seeing the redness of his palm, he may never have glanced to her lovely face. The touch of her slender fingers wrapping around his hand did much to a.s.suage the pain and his heart thudded with the immediate concern she demonstrated for his welfare. Perhaps she was not so consumed by the blackguard that a small sliver of her heart remained open to his affection.
He'd dropped the cricket ball as soon as she'd hurried to his side and as the young lads filed over to where they stood, he bent to retrieve it and simultaneously noticed the complete ruin of Penelope's kidskin walking boots. The tips and sides were caked high with mud from the rain-sodden field. There would be no saving them.
And then a smaller pair of boots entered his line of sight. He stood and held the ball out to the child, no more than seven years of age, his grin absent of two front teeth. The lad accepted the ball with caution, his head bent low as if to await a harsh scolding.
”I am sorry, milord.”
His repentant apology tugged firmly at the heartstrings. It would be difficult not to dismiss the incident when faced with the immediate charm of the urchin, albeit a lesson needed to be learned. The children must play farther from the promenade.
”It is not I who deserves the apology.” He crouched on a level with the lad. A quick nod over his shoulder indicated the apology would be better served if presented to the lady beside him.
The child looked to Penelope. His solemn expression softened before he glanced back with a question in his eyes. ”Is she your wife?”
Phin meant to remain stern, but a smile forced its way through. Beside him, Penelope stifled a giggle.
Oddly enough, the words didn't evoke the repellant emotions expected. Straightened to his full height, he returned Penny's hand to his elbow with a possessive purpose. ”No, young man, my lovely companion is not my wife. May I introduce Miss Penelope Rosebery. She is my friend.” The explanation seemed to disrupt the child's understanding of the world.
”But she's a girl.” The lad's objection coupled with his disbelieving look was utterly endearing.
Phin cleared his throat to avoid chuckling. ”Yes. I've noticed. A very pretty one at that, wouldn't you agree? It would serve you well to make your apology directly to the lady as your ball would have struck her had I not interceded.” His words were meant to admonish, although he allowed a hint of amus.e.m.e.nt to seep through.
”Yes, milord.” With repentant brown eyes turned upward, the child continued. ”I am sorry, miss.”
”It's quite alright.” She favored him with a kind smile. ”A lady need not worry about wayward cricket strikes if she walks with as fine a gentleman as Viscount Fenhurst.”
Phineas straightened his shoulders and absorbed the compliment with pleasure. ”Go on now, you little scoundrel, and play further in the field.”
The lad needed no other encouragement and bounded away, returning to the friends who surrounded him, anxious to hear of the adventure that had transpired near the walking path. Phineas led Penelope the few paces required to reach the promenade and fell into compatible step as if the near miss episode hadn't just happened.
”I don't know what I will do without you forever rescuing me.”
Something in her voice spoke directly to his heart. Still her words implied a time would come when he would not be beside her.
d.a.m.n it all to h.e.l.l.
He fought all reaction and tried with effort to resurrect the familiar comfort of his central belief.
No wife, happy life.
Why did he bother? His words lacked all conviction, hollow of the emotion that once motivated him in his vow to avoid meaningful relations.h.i.+ps. Natalie had been controlling and unfaithful. She'd been hurtful and driven by selfishness and altogether nothing like Penelope. Sweet Penny, motivated by survival and willing to sacrifice everything to ensure the betterment of her sister's future.
They continued along, lost in individual considerations, and the path wound through a small grove of trees, then led to a footbridge that arched over a narrow brook.
”Look!”
Penelope's gleeful exclamation banished his reflective thoughts and he followed her extended arm to where she pointed at the horizon near the far end of a gra.s.sy slope. A hot air balloon, white as the clouds dotting the sky, ascended with grace over the tall oaks. He glanced at the balloon and then back again, more interested in viewing the spectacle of Penny's appreciative expression, her head tilted to the side, a serene smile on her petal-soft lips.
”Have you ever seen anything so lovely?”
Never.
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