Bewitched (4 page)

Five

“Twent
y minutes
,
”
J
ohn
grumbled, stomping
impatiently up
the stone carved steps leading to the d
oor of Lord Landon’s townhouse.
Twenty minutes for a polite call and
to offer up a few pretty words.
No one would be reading the bans or sampling linens after twenty minutes.

From behind the bay window three women pointed and stared, no doubt chattering on about how best to snare him in marriage
.

Damn it all to
H
ell
.

He’d better make it fifteen minutes.

Grudgingly
John
glared at the brass knocker, mentally reviewing the events which had landed him here.
Utter madness.
The blasted urn wasn’t worth this level of anguish
,
and the worst of
it was
he was nervous.

Nervous!

He’d spent entirely too much time selecting a flower from the hothouse that morni
ng; a
ctually
worrying
whether the girl would like his gift.
Then
he’d doubted the wisdom of presenting flowers, perhaps he should have brought chocolates…
Didn’t
all
women love chocolate?

Christ he was pathetic.
Cowed by the me
mory of some long dead female.
He had stared down scads of French soldiers on the battlefield, coordinated troops
o
n
the continent
, and
faced death
on a score of occasions, yet… the thought of entering that house and o
ffering a few pretty words to some young miss
left him thoroughly daunted
.

T
he trio
behind the glass remained within
view. Did the women
really think he couldn’t see them?
Though
impossible to make out faces beneath
the window glare,
he distinctly sensed
their scheming claws reaching out and wrapping around his neck
.

Bloody hell.
This was a mistake
.

He took a healthy step back, more than ready to tell his brother to keep the urn
and
exactly
where he could stick it
.

John stopped short, dragging a steadying breath into his
lungs.
Pathetic indeed
.
Panicking over
a scene in the
window.
He
could han
dle women.
He’d learned the hard way that the fairer sex had a way of turning men to fo
ols with their deceitful ways.
Rona didn’t deserve the
hold
she still
had
over his life
.

That
steeled his nerve
.

Wiping his
mind, he lifted the knocker and rapped steadily on the door
.

After all
,
this wasn’t a serious courtship, merely a ruse to assuage his brother’s conscience and paint a fresh smile on some silly chit’s face.

The heavy door opened to reveal a portly
butler garbed in formal livery.
The middle aged man stood little more than five feet tall and John had to bend
slightly
at the neck
to address the man.

“Good
morning
.” He produced a calling card.
“Lord John Breckenridge to call on Lady Penelope.”

The short statured butler lifted a bushy brow
, flicking an assessing
gaze the length of
John
—no doubt recalling the lingering scandal surrounding his name
.

John quashed a flash of
anger and
impatience.
Let’s get this over with.
He shifted the silver papered box carryi
ng
Penelope’s
gift
to the opposite hand
.

The movement sparked the butler to action.
“Right this way, milord.”
The
short man
turned smartly on a heel and
led John down the brightly lit hall.

“Shush! He’s coming.”
Urgent feminine whispering
floated down the hall
.
“Quickly, girls,
behave
natural
ly
. Penelope
,
sit by the piano.”

Penelope.
A flash of green silk whipped
through his mind.
The very chit he was meant to woo.

Within moments
t
he
butler
ushered
him
into
a pleasant parlor
.
T
he three scheming wraiths
he’d glimpsed through the window took full form and
decorated the room w
ith their brightly hued frocks.
Lady Landon perched delicately upon a chaise while a young blonde sat adjacent
her.
P
ositioned
beside the piano
—dressed in
pale blue and
ivory
calico
—was the
‘
green skir
t’
from the night before
.

“May I present Lord John Breckenridge
for Lady Penelope Hale
,” the butler stated officiously.

The ladies stood in tandem, dipping i
nto matching delicate curtsies.
As introductions were made
,
John
nodded absently to
Lady Landon and her curly haired daughter
before turning his full attention to
Penelope.
Genuine surprise rocked him at his first good look at Colton’
s
charity case.
Not
what he’d expected, and h
e had to hand it to his brother
…
Colton had excellent taste in women
.

John flicked a quick,
assessing
glance
the length of Penelope
, and
then
allowed himself
a more lingering
perusal
.

Nay
.
Colton had
exquisite
taste in women,
for that is what Lady Penelope was
.
Exquisite
.

Rich
auburn
curls
swept up from slender
shoulders, loosely pinned in a graceful chignon while wistful tendrils
drifted down along her cheeks.
Healthy pink glowed from high cheek bones that tapered into a smooth heart-shaped chin
and h
er mouth nestled full and pouty within
the palest shade of peach and rose
—
the perfect accent to milky skin splashed with an irresistible smattering of freckles.
There was a naughty tilt to the corners of that sumptuous mout
h, the sort that begged a man to brush his own lips against that sinful swirl in slow reverent kisses.
Her
downcast
eyes
prevented
him from discerning the exact
hue...
probably
blue
…
and John was
possessed of the sudden urge to march across the room, tip that dainty chin
with his forefinger
and discover the color of her eyes
.

Imagine. John Breckenridge.
The most jaded man in all
Britain
struck dumb and s
pee
chless by the sight of a woman.

Utterly ridiculous
.

H
e knew better.
Though she was without doubt the most beautiful woman he’
d ever seen—
not a classic beauty by any stretch, she had far too many freckles for that, bu
t her coloring radiated
warmth.

John cocked his head, contemplating.
Was her reluctance to glance up at him genuine shyness? Or practiced cunning meant to lure men in?  Likely the later
.

As if on cue Lady Penelope lifted her gaze to his and—

Dear God
.

John nearly stumbled back a step
.

Those
eyes
…

So vibrant and green.
Haunting
.
Achingly lovely.
With the thickest fringe of red lashes.
Straight from a dream
,
to be true.
She had the irresistible
, bewitching beauty
that
smart
men ran
from
and all other fools fell into
.
Naught but trouble stemmed from
a woma
n this beautiful
.

“I am honored by your visit, my lord,” she murmured, her voice
soft and without any hint of coyness
.
She sounded shy. Shy and genuine. And
warm
.

His fickle heart dropped
a fraction.
If he was interested in finding a wife—which he most definitely was not—Lady Pene
lope was well beyond his grasp.
This was the
sort of girl who set her cap
to marry a duke,
and succeeded.
B
efore
he could dwell
on the
twinge of disappointment
at the back of his mind
,
heated footfalls from the corridor drew his attention.

“Laura?”
A man’s voice called
from
further down the hall
.
“Have you seen my letter opener?”

John turned to find
George
Harris, Earl of Landon, whisking into the room from
the front hall
, a packet of
correspondence
clutched in his hand
.
A
pair of spectacles slipped studiously down his long nose
while his gray brow furrowed as though deep
ly concerned about something.

Lady
Landon crossed to her husband.
“The one with an elephant carved into the handle?”

“I can’t seem to find it anywhere,” he mumbled distractedly
,
staring d
own at the letters in his hand.
“Would have sworn I left it on my desk.”

“I’ll help you look.
Pe
rhaps it is on the bookshelf.”
Lady Landon spared Penelope and
John a quick, scheming glance. “Come along, Marie.”
The countess
motio
ned for her daughter to follow.
“Why don’t you ask Mrs. Hall to bring tea and refreshments
to Penelope and our guest?
”

“Of course, Mama.”

The earl glanced up abruptly as though
suddenly aware
of John’s presence.
A kind smile crinkled the
corners of his eyes.
“
Breckenridge.
So good to see you in London.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Still in the army, lad?”

“I am,
S
ir.”

“That’s excellent!” He strode
forward to pump John’s hand
.
“Served four years myself.”

John relaxed
a fraction.
The earl could
have mad
e Napoleon comfortable in a room sporting
a guillotine.
“With my uncle if memory serves.”

“Yes
.
Yes.” Lord Landon chuckled.
“The stories I could tell you…” He shook his head, a
wistful gleam lighting his eye.
“My wife and I are hosting a dinner party tonight, you simply must stop by.”

“Really, Sir, I must decl—”

“I won’t take
no for an answer,” he insisted.
Lord Landon flicked a glance toward Penelope and then flas
hed John a conspiratorial wink.
“My niece will be in attendance.
I’ll see to it the two of you are paired for cards.
”