Bewitched Page 7

  Penelope drew a ragged breath and Pennyked from behind one of the fat green leaves. Her gaze collided with Colton’s. She sucked in a horrified breath and jerked back behind the plant.

  Too late.

  Colton glanced surreptitiously about the room and then strode directly toward her.

  Oh, dear Lord… Penelope’s brain whirled, searching for some escape from a confrontation with the duke. None appeared forthcoming. She’d successfully—if unwittingly—cornered herself.

  “Lady Penelope,” Colton said quietly, stopping a respectful distance away from her.

  “Your Grace.” Penelope stepped away from the plant and dipped briefly, wishing to stem the embarrassed heat racing down her neck.

  “I won’t bother you with unnecessary pleasantries,” he continued. “My brother informed me that you are aware of our… arrangement regarding his paying you a few visits.”

  Penelope bristled, squaring her shoulders, and meeting his dark glower head on. How dare he approach her about the humiliating matter! “There is no need to explain, Your Grace. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my cousins are waiting.” She began to step around him.

  He quickly parried the move. “Penelope, wait, please, I only wanted to apologize.”

  She halted, skewering the top button of his silver vest with a piercing glare. “Very well then, you’ve apologized.” She attempted to shove past him a second time, but he snared her arm just above the elbow.

  “I’m sorry,” he insisted, a hint of vulnerability ringing through his tone. Penelope paused, glancing into his eyes. “I led you on last summer and then turned my back without a word.”

  Anger flared. “So you felt it necessary to bribe your jaded brother into courting me?”

  Colton hesitated, chagrined. “Not my greatest scheme I’ll grant you.” He flashed a crooked smile.

  Penelope cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed by his flirtatious ploy. Rather than find his expression adorable as she used to, she was totally unaffected. The prospect was oddly freeing.

  His smile fell and his gaze grew serious. “I—I wanted you to feel special. Last summer circumstances changed, and rather than further our relationship, I had no choice but to cut it short.”

  “Did my father’s display in the House of Lords affect your change of heart?”

  “No,” he replied quickly. Too quickly. “Not entirely,” he amended. The duke sighed heavily. “I felt guilty for my treatment of you. Somehow I thought you’d feel better if a gentleman paid you court. I thought it might do my brother some good as well.”

  Penelope closed her eyes for a moment. John’s brooding visage stared back at her, wrenching her heart. The raw pain of learning their meetings had been orchestrated to assuage Colton’s guilt grated her nerves. How the brothers must be laughing at her. After a long moment she opened her eyes.

  Colton gazed down at her, expression thick with genuine concern. Penelope’s anger faltered. Who was she to judge the good intentions of others? After all, she’d set out to dose the duke with a love potion. She gave her head a wry shake. “You meant no harm, Colton, but a bit of honesty might have prevented all of this… discomfort.”

  * * *

  “You’ll be glad to know I apologized to Lady Penelope,” Colton stated, striding into the breakfast room the following morning.

  Shocked, John glanced from his steaming pile of eggs and sausage to his elder brother. “Jesus, Colt, it’s only half past seven. What are you doing up?” Normally John believed it would take an act of parliament to drag Colton from his bed before noon.

  “Did you hear what I said about Penelope?” Colton demanded, yanking a chair back from the table. He didn’t immediately sit.

  John carefully set his fork on his plate, contemplating his brother’s dark mood. “You apologized?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did she take it?”

  Colton raked a palm through his hair and dropped heavily onto the chair. “I don’t know. She looked damned upset.”

  John could imagine. The vision of her broken face the day before refused to give him peace.”

  “I suppose it’s of no matter,” Colt went on. “I understand she is to marry Holbrook.”

  “H-holbrook?” Cold misery poured through John’s veins, dousing his appetite.

  “Yes,” Colton replied. “I expect a formal announcement will be made at the Landon’s Valentine’s Day ball tomorrow night.”

  Bewitched

  Twelve

  February 14, 1861

  Agitated after a miserably sleepless night, John marched down the snowy sidewalk that had become so familiar in the last week. Penelope consumed his thoughts.

  He passed no fewer than three fops carrying huge bouquets, no doubt off to woo some besotted female. John growled under his breath. He hated Valentine’s Day. A reality made all the worse by the fact that Penelope had refused to see him yesterday.

  Engaged to Holbrook!

  Christ, what a disaster. He had to speak with her. She couldn’t marry that deceitful bastard. Holbrook would never be faithful to her. He’d never treat her as she deserved. He’d snuff out the sweet innocence John found so intriguing and so very Penelope. The colonel had no interest in her happiness, he only wanted the status marrying an earl’s daughter would bring his career and social standing.

  Physically nauseated by the turn of events, John jogged up the Landon’s steps and rapped hastily on the door.

  The short-statured butler answered almost immediately. Over his head, John observed several servants, rushing about carrying furniture and draperies in preparation for the evening’s Valentine bash.

  “The family is not receiving visitors today, my lord,” the butler said in his ever monotonous efficiency.

  Frustrated, John pressed, “It is of the utmost importance that I speak with Lady Penelope.”

  “Lady Penelope is out.” The butler’s eyes narrowed. “And my orders are no visitors until this evening. Good day, milord.”

  John backed away from the door, contemplating his options. He sincerely doubted Penelope was out, but creating a scene was hardly the best way to get back in her good graces. He could leave a note, but she’d likely toss it in the fire as soon as she read it.

  He hastened down the steps and strode briskly down the narrow alley between townhouses. He glanced through the windows on the main level and caught no glimpse of Penelope or her cousins. Even if he had, the house was alive with servants arranging and decorating for the ball. He passed the last window, frustration mounting by the second. He paused and Pennyred into the room, noting that it was totally devoid of people. The library. Shelves neatly stacked with books lined the walls, and several tables and chairs cozily decorated the room. Perhaps—

  A flurry of blonde curls suddenly appeared on the opposite side of the glass.

  Startled, John jumped back a foot. After a moment, he recognized Penelope’s blonde cousin—damned if he had any idea which of the twins she was. The blonde grinned and waved frantically. John tapped the glass, motioning for her to lift the pane. She quickly complied, flipping the latch and inching the window open.

  “Lord John, are you here to see Penelope?”

  “I am,” he replied. “Or at least I tried, Lady…”

  “Marie,” she offered easily, obviously used to people mistaking her for her twin.

  “I understand Colonel Holbrook proposed.”

  Marie nodded. “Penelope is very upset with you.”

  “She told you of our conversation about my brother?”

  “She did. My sister and I were most disappointed to learn our love potion hadn’t worked.” An amused smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose finding love isn’t meant to be so easy.”

  “Love should be mutual.” John leaned against the wall. “Would you bring Penelope down here so that I could speak with her? It is of the utmost importance.”

  Marie’s eyes sparkled with the promise of mischief, but she shook her head. “I won’t do that to my cous
in without knowing your intentions. I see Penelope losing her belief in love, and I have no reason to believe you wish to see her for any purpose other than to explain away your own guilt. I asked about you, my lord, and it seems you’re the last man in all of Britain to be in search of a wife.” Her expression sobered. “I will not be a party to my cousin’s heartache any longer.”

  John gulped, feeling an utter ass. “Please, you—”

  Shouting and a loud crash emanated from the hall outside the library.

  “You’d better go,” Marie whispered furtively. “If you wish to see Penelope, come to the party tonight.” She quickly slammed the window and rushed from the library.

  John crossed to the street deep in thought. There was nothing for it. If he wanted to see Penelope again, he’d have to attend tonight’s party.

  * * *

  By the time seven o’clock that evening rolled around, John had himself worked into a fine lather. He could not shed visions of Penelope and Holbrook from his head. Penelope at Holbrook’s side… on his arm… in his bed. The last made John shudder.

  But it was more than Holbrook. John could not fathom the thought of any other man touching her. No man could deserve a woman as pure as Penelope. A woman that would march into the slums of London to save a child was a rare gem indeed.

  Unsure of his plan, John stood across the street from the Landon’s home. The townhouse was already teeming with guests, so he could only hope discerning a moment or two with Penelope would not be difficult. Steeling his courage, John stuffed lingering doubts and insecurities left by Rona down, and strode toward the party. He must save Penelope from a life as Holbrook’s wife.

  He entered the ballroom, far too nervous to be annoyed by the festive décor. Red hearts and cupids assaulted his eyes wherever he looked. He swept a quick glance about the room, searching for Penelope. A band played music and a few couples danced while several gents spouted poetry and sonnets to blushing young ladies. Lord and Lady Landon held court beside the main double doors with their daughters behind them. John halted, narrowing his gaze on the flash of blue silk behind the twins. One of the twins shifted, revealing Penelope behind them.

  His heart slammed in his chest, and the world around him fell away as she lifted those sparkling green eyes to him. He gulped. She and she alone provoked emotions he’d locked away deep inside, and only she gave him the strength to want to release them. To feel again. The past crazy week flashed through his head and swirled to a single point of clarity in his mind.

  Suddenly, John knew exactly what to do.

  * * *

  The blood in her veins sizzled as John’s gaze found hers and locked. She wanted to slink off and hide, but found herself totally transfixed. Her pulse thrummed at a breakneck pace, leaving her so lightheaded she’d likely fall flat on her face if she tried to take a single step. Probably for the best if she let him apologize. Perhaps then he’d stop trying to call on her.

  A lump formed in her throat, threatening to choke her. Seeing him hurt so much. Despite their brief acquaintance, and the bizarre circumstances surrounding it, she’d fallen in love with John.

  “I say,” Marie murmured just ahead of her, “is that Lord John?”

  “I daresay it is,” Kate replied in a hushed tone. “He looks remarkably handsome in his uniform.”

  Penelope blinked, sliding a slow gaze the length of John’s masculine frame. The breath froze in her throat. She hadn’t even noticed what he’d been wearing, but her cousins were right… he cut an arresting figure in his uniform. So strong and formidable. A warrior of the first order to be sure. She wasn’t the only one to notice either. He drew the attention of every guest he passed—especially the women. In front of her Kate and Marie parted like a stage curtain, granting him direct access to her.

  “Penelope,” John said seriously, dark eyes boring into hers with such intensity her knees quaked. “You cannot marry Colonel Holbrook.”

  Surprised, Penelope opened her mouth to inform him she had no intention of marrying the colonel, but John plunged on before she could utter a word.

  “When my brother told me of your engagement, I-I think I went partially mad. The thought of you with any other man…” He swallowed hard, a few beads of sweat marring his brow. “I have little to offer you, Penny. No fortune. No grand title or high ranking position within the war office. I have only a small country estate in Northern England, and the fact that I… I love you.”

  A hush fell over the ballroom as every eye turned to Penelope and John. Penelope scarcely noticed the attention as his words pierced her heart, warming her soul.

  “I can’t explain it, but whether it is a result of magic or divine intervention, you have bewitched me in the last week.” John’s earnest gaze remained locked on hers. He took a knee before her, slipping a hand in his breast pocket and withdrawing a diamond ring. The gem caught the candlelight, sending lightning straight to Penelope’s heart. “Lady Penelope Hale, would you grant me the undying honor of becoming my wife?”

  “Oh, John…” Tears of joy pricked Penelope’s eyes, blurring his handsome visage. “I—”

  “You son of a bitch!” an angry cry boomed.

  Penelope startled, but before she could discern what was going on, Colton Breckenridge launched through the air, tackling John to the white marble floor.

  Bewitched

  Thirteen

  John slid across the floor on his back with a furious Colton on top of him.

  “You were supposed to court her, not marry her,” Colton raged, plunging a fist into John’s jaw.

  Trained in the art of warfare and a skilled fighter, John swung an arm up around his brother’s shoulders, and, using his legs, easily flipped Colton, successfully reversing their positions. John pinned his brother’s shoulders against the floor. “You gave up any say in the matter when you became engaged to Miss Featherton.”

  Despite his disadvantaged position, Colton continued to fight. “It’s a code of honor, brother.”

  “You know nothing of honor.” John dodged another fist and slammed Colton back into the unforgiving floor. “What sort of honorable man bribes another to pay a woman court?”

  Colton’s only response was another punishing fist to John’s shoulder.

  “Enough of this!” Penelope cried, rushing forward. She grabbed John’s upper arm, yanking him backward. “Help me please!” she cried to the stunned crowd of onlookers.

  Several gentlemen rushed forward to aide in separating the brothers.

  John slid off of Colton, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. Penelope knelt beside him. “If you wanted Penelope you should have married her yourself.”

  “I couldn’t,” Colt spat, face flushed red with rage. “She has no money. I lost a fortune to Featherton last July. Marrying his daughter was the only way to cry off of the debt.”

  A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

  John rocked back, releasing his breath in a long whoosh. The fight drained from his bones as he gazed at his brother. “Gambling debts.” John shook his head. “I should have known.”

  Colton was visibly deflated, breathing heavily.

  “One day you will learn the true meaning of value,” John said quietly. He could think of nothing profound or encouraging to say. Only Colton could make the decision to grow up and learn responsibility.

  “Beginning today,” a woman’s voice cut the silence.

  Colton’s eyes widened. Regret and full-on fear cascaded down his face. “Miss Featherton.”

  A pretty young lady with chestnut brown hair, garbed in a pink and white lace gown sashayed forward. She wrenched a diamond engagement ring off her finger and dropped it in Colton’s lap. “Consider your debt null and void. The same can be said for our engagement.” She turned on a heel, showing Colton her back. “Use your freedom wisely, Your Grace.”

  Miss Featherton gracefully exited the ballroom. Her father followed immediately. Michael Featherton appeared absolutely murderous—understandable
given the turn of events.

  The low hum of conversation began to buzz through the crowd.

  Gentle fingers wrapped around John’s bicep. He turned to find Penelope kneeling beside him. Expression soft and caring. Her eyes alive with excitement. “This night will have tongues wagging for a month.”

  John grinned. “Perhaps longer.” He sobered, worry that she may yet refuse him and dampen his heart. Now that the duke was back on the market, would she go back to Colton? Rona’s wounds ran deep, as did the doubts accompanying the scars she’d left. “What say you?”

  “John—”

  “Lady Penelope, get away from him.” Colonel Holbrook rapidly approached, his pompous air dripping self-importance. How typical that the colonel had only approached once the fighting was over. Holbrook stopped, standing over John with a dark glower. “How dare you propose to my fiancé before the entire ton?”

  “Your fiancé!” Penelope leapt to her feet, anger flushing her cheeks a brilliant red hue. “I never had any intention of marrying you, Colonel.”

  Holbrook flushed. “No intention. But you… I…” His voice trailed off as he glanced about the room, the full import of public humiliation striking him.

  John couldn’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction.

  Holbrook glared down at John. “This is your fault,” he growled.

  “Consider us even,” John replied, climbing to his feet.

  Penelope’s big green eyes snapped to John’s, understanding pooled in the depths. “You mean…”

  John nodded gravely. “Yes,” he answered simply. Years ago Colonel Holbrook had seduced John’s young wife and gotten her with child.

  Penelope glared at Holbrook. “You are despicable.” She promptly turned her back on the colonel, and John could have kissed her—Lord knew he wanted to.

  She scooped the engagement ring John had purchased that afternoon from the floor and faced John, eyes aglow. She handed him the ring. His heart clenched with a moment of fear and regret. She was going to refuse him.