Bewitched (7 page)

Colonel Holbrook’s jaw clenched.

Penelope gulped. The friction between the men
was
palpable. She must find Aunt Laura
with all haste. Putting these men at a card table together
would spell
certain
catastrophe
. S
he
needed
to
concentrate on getting John the antidote without other distraction.
“If you gentleman will excuse me for just a moment.” She smiled sweetly, backing away. “I need a word alone with my aunt.”

Neither man spared her an answering glance.

Oh, dear. S
he couldn’t have them coming to blows!

Just a few feet away the countess ushered guests toward the rooms prepared for the card
playing
. Pen
elope waved, easily catching the other woman’s
eye.
Aunt Laura beamed in welcome. Penelope slipped the small
floral
portrait into her reticule and quickly strode to her aunt.

“I see you have two beaus
in attendance. Are you ready to
move into the card room?”

“Aunt Laura, I’m not sure it’s wise that Lord John and Colonel Holbrook sit at the same table.”

Laura flicked a hand dismissively. “Nonsense, darling, it will be great fun.” She winked. “Tw
o men vying for your affections,
you’ll be in your element.”

Not hardly.
“But, Aunt Laura—”

“Uh, uh, uh. Not another word.
The party is ready to begin. Fetch your partner and find your name cards.” She turned away, linking arms with Lady Hamlin, and making it perfectly clear that Penelope was not to argue further.

Frustrated
,
Penelope resisted the urge to stamp her foot
.
Apparently disaster would not be averted after all.

Within
moments Penelope was seated at a card table beside John with Colonel Holbrook and
the elderly
widow, Lady Wheaton, positioned opposite them.
Apparently Aunt Laura hadn’t wanted Penelope paired with any potential
competition.

The men glared at one another.

“So, Breckenridge
.” The
c
olonel expertly shuffled the cards. “Could I interest you in a little side wager?”

Seven

“Ho!” Colonel Holbrook crowed. He swept
the
upturned cards
littered across
the center
of the table
into a pile before him
. “It appears we’ve won again
,
Lady W
heaton.”

John ground his teeth and shifted irritably in his
wooden
chair. He leaned into Penelope seate
d beside him
. “I do believ
e we’re being cheated.
”
He could stomach losing so long as the circumstances were fair.

Her gaze slid to meet his.
“I
’d
noticed.
” A cheeky smile tugged at her lips. “
Follow my lead.”

John
quirked
a
questioning brow as she
adopted a f
lirty air and leane
d even closer, sliding her
palm around his jacket sleeve just above the wrist.

Penelope laughed lightly. “Forgive me, Major, I’m deplorable when it comes to card games.” Though speaking to John
,
she made firm, steady eye contact with Colonel Holbrook. “By the eve
’
s end you’ll wish to be partnered with Lady Wheaton.”

“Nonsense,” John replied, suppressing a grin as she covertly slipped an ace from the cards still propped in his hand. “Just a run of bad luck. I have a feeling your luck
is
about to change.”
He flipped the remaining cards onto the table.
“Whose deal?”

“Mine.” Penelope
smiled sweetly and reached for the cards. John watched carefully
as she scooped up the cards, shuffled and deftly flipped the cards out
in clockwise order around the table.
The ace from
his previous hand
reappeared along with one other
and
a king and queen of the same suit. Impressed
,
he
shift
ed a sly gaze to
Penelope
. Her freckled cheeks flushed bright pink while her pale eyes
sparkled with mischief. Not much of a gambling face
,
but would Holbrook or Lady Wheaton suspect
sweet little Penelope of stacking the deck? Likely not.

Lady Wheaton
le
d out with a fairly weak card
,
and, as a team, Penelope and John won handily.

When John scooped up the winning hand, the
c
olonel sputtered in shock, mouth agape, t
he absolute shock of losing
just one round evident in his wide, round eyes.

It was enough. That one hand Penelope
gave him—cheating
‘a cheat’ out of one point in cards, even
if he lost the overall bet, was enough to make his entire evening. He’d find the opportunity to thank her later.

Penelope’s blonde cousin—damned if he could remember her name—rushed to the table. Penelope rose anxiously and her cousin whispered furtively in
her
ear.
“Gentleman,
my lady,
if you’ll excuse me.” Penelope
cast a
quick
glance toward John, eyes brimming
with nervousness,
and swept from
the room.

“
Odd girl,” Lady Wheaton said
, taking a large gulp from her wine glass. “Pity. One could only hope she doesn’t take after her father.”

John cocked a questioning brow. “What about her father?”

Lady Wheaton didn’t readily answer
.
S
he appeared
far too busy waving down a footman to refill her wine glass.

“He’s known as the ‘mad earl’.”
Holbrook scooped up the cards and began t
o shuffle
.

“The mad earl?” John shook his head.
“Lord Blackmore is of perfectly sound mind.”

Holbrook leaned forward
, gaze narrowed on John
. “Until recently perhaps.
In the last couple of years the earl has become increasingly eccentric. Some are beginning to fear latent madness runs in his family.” He hesitated, squaring the cards and setting the deck in the middle of the table before fol
ding his hands before him. “It
severely hindered
Lady Penelope’s chances
at a decent match
last season.”

John returned Holbrook’s glare without flinching. He recognized the
c
olonel’s attempt to warn him off of Penelope for what it was. “Which would explain her interest in you.” John s
tood. “If you’ll excuse me.
I’ll have my man cut you a bank draft for our wager tomorrow afternoon.
” He nodded to Lady Wheaton.
“My lady.”

John strode
impatiently toward the
outer wall of the room, pondering what he’d learned from Holbrook. Fickle society fools. To blame the girl for her father’s eccentricity. Is the ‘mad earl’ why Colton cast her aside? Was it all so simple? John glanced toward the
door Lady Penelope had slipped through,
wishing she’d retur
n. Much as he hated to admit it,
he’d had fun with her this evening.

*
             
*
             
*

“Do you really think this will work?” Penelope clutched the apothecary vial containing the antidote in her hand.

Marie shrugged. “It certainly can’t make things worse.”

Penelope nibbled her
lower
lip. “I suppose that’s true.”

“We should be getting back.
Hopefully Lord John and Colonel Holbrook haven’t come to blows
in your absence
.”

Penelope rolled her eyes.
“Your
mother would love that. You g
o
.
I’ll be right behind you.”

“Very well.” Marie squeezed her hand before turning to leave the librar
y. “Good luck,” she called over her shoulder.

Penelope sighed, leaning against a sturdy chair
back. How
would she get Lord John to drink the antidote? She hadn’t had any
success
giving
the love potion to her desired target at the party, and—

“Good luck with what exactly?”

Penelope startled. “Lord John! Wh-what are you doing here?”

As though conjured from her musings, John strode coolly into the libra
ry, o
ne corner of his mouth quirk
ing
with wry amusement
. “Looking for you.”

“Oh. I see,” she said dumbly, wanting to kick herself as soon as the words left her mouth. John continued advancing on her
,
and her pulse kicked up a notch.
“Did you require anything in particular?”

“I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me? Whatever for?”

“Cheating Holbrook out of that last point.
” He stopped a few feet from her and grinned. “I had no idea you were so adept at cards.”

Penelope laughed, a bit of the fun she’d experienced before Marie’s summons bubbling up in her chest.
“The look on Colonel Holbro
ok’s face when we won that hand...
”

“Priceless,” John finished for her.

Their gazes locked and together they laughed, the sound of their mingled merriment surprisingly harmonious.
John’s eyes softened when he laughed, relaxing the stern angles of his face.
He was really quite handsome.

“
Where
exactly did you learn to play cards?”

“You mean dishonestly?”

“I do.”

“My father bought me a beautiful gelding for my twelfth birthday. The first afternoon I took him out for a ride a dog spooked him, he threw me and I broke my leg. I spent the entire summer confined to bed. Our butler, Alfred, spent hours entertaining me and taught me to play cards.”

“Taught you to cheat at cards more like.”

Penelope shrugged impishly and John laughed.

“I’m impressed,” he said, taking a couple of steps closer.

“
I just can’t believe Colonel Holbrook was cheating! I’ve always rather liked him,” Penelope said.

John scoffed, sobering, a bit of his grim exterior replacing the glimpse of good humor she’d seen moments ago.

“You don’t care for him I gather.” Curious
,
Penelope perched on the edge of a sofa. “Could I ask why?”

John hesitated. “It’s personal,” he replied cryptically. Absently he plucked a book from a wooden end table. “Lord Byron.” He flipped through a few pages. “I don’t recognize this one.”

Penelope raised a skeptical brow. “You’ve read Lord Byron?”

John dropped onto the seat beside her. Penelope gulped as the cushion dipped beneath his weight, pulling her just a bit closer to him. He waved the book, fixing his dark gaze directly on her. He was so close. “Not I,” he said. “My wife.”

“Y-Your wife? You’re married
?
”

“Widowed.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Rona was very fond of gothic novels. I purchased her enough books to fill three trunks
before
she died.”

“I’m sorry,” Penelope said quietly. “She must have been very young.
”

“Two and twenty.”

Not much older than me.
Penelope drew a breath
and regarded
him thoughtfully for a long moment. The man intrigued her in no small way.
“
Did she
pass
recent
ly
?”

“A little over five years.”

“Is that what you were hiding from?”

John’s gaze flipped to her, surprise lining his handsome face.
“Holbrook’s comment wasn’t lost on you, I see.”

She gave a sheepish shrug. “I’m afraid not.”

His lips twisted cynically. “Have you truly
heard nothing
of me or my wife
before now?”