The Midnight Rake. Anabelle BryantЧитать онлайн книгу.
The honesty of Penelope’s statement spoke straight to his heart and Phin found he could not drag his eyes from her. Realizing his ridiculous discomfiture, he forced his gaze to his plate. “Well then, please enjoy. I never need a second invitation to eat.”
Penelope glanced at the man settled across the flannel. Dressed in a pale blue linen shirt and brown buck trousers, his casual repose was contagious. How unusual for her to feel at ease in the presence of a gentleman. The few instances when Simon initiated affection, she’d never experienced such calm. But then, she no longer trusted her intuition. A niggling voice reminded of her ineptitude in perceiving Simon’s true nature. Oh, she’d proved every kind of fool to believe herself in love with a pernicious thief.
The stark comparison between Simon and the effortless eloquence across the blanket caused her breath to catch. Phineas genuinely cared for his mother and showed consideration beyond his own wishes. From their shared time in the hallway earlier, a picnic in the garden seemed his least preferred activity for the afternoon, yet he couldn’t be more charming if he tried.
Light reflected in his amber eyes and the shimmer of sunlight that glinted on a stray lock of hair adrift in the breeze gave her heart a little hiccup. She had not described Phineas with accuracy when discussing his appearance with Aubry. Her sister would be setting her to rights. Viscount Fenhurst was a downright pleasure, easily the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.
He may have wondered at her silence because he leaned a little closer, his dark brows aloft in question. She sighed as she experienced the full force of his notice.
“Is everything alright?”
His voice evoked feelings of security, a condition that had escaped her life for almost a full year. His chin angled strong and dependable, his nose equally fine, and his golden-hued eyes were fathomless as if one could fall in and get lost in his gaze forever. She forced herself to concentrate on the question and cease admiring his remarkably good looks.
With a firm mental reprimand, Penelope swallowed a threat of emotion. No longer would she allow sentiment to label her a fool. It would be best if she spoke of the weather or some other subject having nothing at all to do with rugged handsomeness and a charming cleft in the chin. She’d been a small child the last time she’d enjoyed a picnic on the lawn. Straightening her shoulders, she formulated a mundane reply. “This is lovely.”
“As are you,” he replied without hesitation. “Now, what is it that brings you to London?”
She smiled at the compliment while Phineas retrieved two glasses from the basket along with a bottle of claret. “I’ve traveled in hope of finding someone. It is a matter of great importance.” She strove to keep her tone cheerful; noting the quaver in her voice likely sabotaged her attempt at congeniality. Reaching across the blanket, she accepted a glass of wine.
“I’ve no doubt my mother will be of assistance.” His voice was rich with sincerity. “She’s a social butterfly and attends almost every invitation. I can see this matter is of great importance. It reminds me of my sister Julia. She too is seeking to solve a problem.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is your sister unwell?” Penelope filled her plate with food. There were all sorts of wonderful things to eat, choice bits she hadn’t tasted in months, their meager savings allowing only the bare essentials. And there were strawberries. She did love strawberries.
“Yes, Julia will be fine.” He offered her a scone before continuing. “She’s in Brighton now, but I’m hoping she’ll return home soon.”
Penelope detected a note of sadness in his words. Clearly, the matter troubled him. Her initial impression, that he possessed a genuine kindness, strengthened. She darted a glance to where he relaxed, noting he’d piled his plate high; his hearty appetite indicating they shared something in common.
“It sounds like the cause of my own distress, but then I suppose it’s a long road that doesn’t have a turn.” She took a bite of her food. “May I ask your opinion?” Her words held the smallest note of uncertainty. She hardly knew the man before her, yet he expressed such sympathy for his sister’s plight, she could not help but trust him.
His brows slashed low over his eyes as if he wasn’t sure how to answer, then he made quick work of a reply. “It would be my honor.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “Be assured I am a veritable vault when it comes to secrets.”
His response was everything Penny needed to hear and she raised her wine for a fortifying sip before beginning her discreet confession. She included a respectful verisimilitude, editing when necessary to keep true the promise she’d made with Aubry to find Simon Maddock and force his repentance for wrongdoing; even if it meant embarrassment and exposure in the process. In truth, they had little choice. Money was running out no matter how parsimoniously they lived.
Of course, she had no one to blame for their hardship but herself. She’d pleaded with her father to release her dowry and entrust their savings to Simon’s promise of profitable wealth. Yet no such investments existed; at least none her father’s solicitors could secure in any London bank.
“Allow me to understand.”
Phineas finished a second serving of food and reclined on the blanket, his arms a support as he leaned backward, his long legs crossed at the ankles. Her pulse hitched a notch under the penetrating scrutiny of his amber stare.
“You wish to find a specific gentleman in London, although you won’t reveal his name. When he is located, you want to speak to him in private and the why of it, you also will not share. Is this correct?”
Penelope found it increasingly difficult to answer. Did he consider her request foolish? No matter the questions racing through her mind, she couldn’t break the hold of his speculative stare. He reminded her of a lion, tawny and regal, reposed, yet powerful. With a nervous swallow she reordered the path of her thoughts. Nothing but trouble was found the last time she opened her heart to emotion. She would need to be much smarter in the future.
“Stated like that it does sound a little far-fetched.” She placed her empty plate on the blanket and smoothed the crumbs from the skirt of her day gown. The faded fabric was hopelessly out of fashion. She wondered what Phineas thought of her appearance accompanied with her incredulous explanation. But no, he did not seem put off with her confession, only curious.
“Shall I clarify a bit more?” If he detected the compunctious tone of her voice, he was polite enough not to comment. More the pity she could never tell him the complete truth, but she would be mortified to reveal she’d been disgracefully left at the altar and made penniless in the same afternoon. He would think her impetuous at the least, unworthy at the worst and for some unidentifiable reason, the thought of Phineas establishing a lowered opinion shot a pulse of panic through her.
“I’m all ears.”
Did he merely humor her? He smiled and his face transformed from serene and inquisitive, to breathtakingly handsome in a heartbeat.
She cleared her throat with a small sound. “I’m seeking this man because he’s left me little choice but to do so. It is a matter of the utmost importance. Life and death one could even claim.” She let out a regretful sigh and cast her eyes downward. How embarrassing to be put in this situation. Simon’s actions were despicable and she’d happily see him drawn and quartered for the hurt he’d perpetuated on her family.
She raised her hand and gently placed it over her heart, remorse and regret causing her palm to tremble. Still as her emotions threatened to overtake her, she vowed to stop her foolish weeping and locate the man who had brought about their ruin. Without a doubt, he deserved not one tear.
Penelope appeared deeply troubled. When she laid her hand across her breast unable to form the words she’d given her heart to the gentleman she sought, it felt as though someone punched him in the stomach and Phineas couldn’t fathom why the admission would strike him with such intensity. It could only be the comparison to Julia’s condition.
He wondered at Penelope’s