Authors: Melissa Lynne Blue
Bewitched (8 page)
Confused
,
and infinitely more intrigued
,
Penelope shook her head. “
I was raised in the country. I know very little of
t
own gossip.”
John muttered something under his breath before leaning
forward
, expression brooding
.
“You may as well hear the sordid tale from me. Now that I’m in London the
old gossip
will fly.”
Penelope said nothing, merely waited quietly for him to continue.
After a
long moment John shifted back on the sofa, rolling a long arm along the back
of the loveseat. She gulped. If his arm fell forward, it would rest on her shoulders
. “I married young,” he began, “barely one and twenty to a woman of similar age, Lady Rona Baxter. It was a love match, or so I believed at the time.”
Penelope nodded, finding herself scooting closer as he spoke.
“I was already in the Army
,
which made for a great deal of time apart. Rona was hardly the type to follow the drum, you see
.
She demanded I resign my commission, and naturally I refused.”
“Naturally.”
John
grew quiet, his eyes sober with a combination of bitterness and longing. “
I returned from the
Russian War
to find she’d become pregnant in my absence.”
Penelope gasped. “
Oh, John…
”
John’s gaze remained ste
ady
. “For months I
watched
my
wife grow round with another man’s child.
There was no hiding that the babe was not mine
, not when I’d
been gone for months on end fightin
g
, and the scandal… N
eedless to say it was the scandal of the decade.”
“That’s why you left?”
“In part.”
“What happened?”
Penelope murmured.
“In the end I forgave her the affair, decided I
couldn’t live without her.
The gossip flew after that.
Did that make me weak? Or s
how strength of character
?” John shrugged. “I was
accused
of both by the whole of society.”
“I should hardly think forgiveness makes you weak,” Penelope said seriously. “It takes a great deal of strength to forgive such an indiscretion. Rona was the weak one. Not you.”
A wry s
mile touched John’s lips. “You’d be the first to
believe so. I
n the end it didn’t matter, I
had to go on without her anyway. Rona died in childbirth
along with her babe
.
”
“How very sa
d,”
Penelope
whispered
.
John bent
forward, resting his elbows on his knees, raking his fingers through his thick dark hair. “
Yes.
”
“
Do you wear black because you still mourn for her?”
John laughed
.
The sound
was
deep and gravelly.
It resonated through her, and she was struck with the sudden desire to make him laugh more.
“Nothing so dramatic I assure you.
I wear black simply because I haven’t been to a tailor in years. There is no need
as
I’m usually in uniform.”
“And black never goes out of style.”
“Precisely.”
He
flashed
a
hesitant
smile
, the gesture crinkling the corners of his eyes and she sensed him relaxing
in her presen
ce.
“I simply cannot imagine being unfaithful to a man fighting a war.”
“She was lonely,” John replied. “I blame myself for that.”
“That is hardly an excuse,” Penelope argued, disgusted at the other woman. “I am alone now and you don
’t see me carrying on with men. I
t would be no different if I had a husband who was called away on duty. Rona knew you were a soldier before you married.”
John leaned in suddenly, his gaze glowing with a different form of intensity. “What is it about you,” he murmured
, searching
her face as though
to glean some magical answer
. “
I have laughed more with you in this one evening
than I have in
years.” H
e lifted a hand and stroked the calloused pad of his thumb along the line of her jaw, finally resting it in th
e cleft of her chin.
Penelope’s heart hammered as warm tremors
shivered from his touch along her skin and int
o her veins. This was wholly in
appropriate. If anyone happened upon them it could ruin her,
but she didn’t particularly care.
His warm breath breezed over
her
mouth and her lips grew heavy, heated, and she knew the fleeting hope that he might kiss her.
“Penelope,” he
whispered, leaning in closer… c
loser still…
H
is mouth hovered just above hers
,
and her eyes fluttered closed. His lips whispered against hers, the barest touch, and yet it touched her
everywhere
,
more deeply than any
other person had or could.
She lifted her hands, intending to wrap them around his shoulders, and—
The apothecary vial
dropped into her skirts. Penelope jerked
back to reality.
Good heavens!
She was supposed to be releasing this man from the bonds of unwanted love, not entangling her own emotions.
She quickly looked down, avoiding another kiss
,
and clamped the antidot
e back in her palm, hiding it from view. “W-we should be getting back,” she said.
John slumped back for a moment before nodding.
She chanced a quick glance into his eyes, desperate to ignore the disappointment settling in her stomach. Would he like her at all without the love potion? Knowing what she did of his past
,
Penelope sincerely doubted it.
Bewitched
Eight
John
paced the parlor of
his brother’s impressive Mayfair manse.
“I want my urn,” he barked. “It’s done. I courted your charity case and now I want what I’m owed.”
What the hell had he been thinking to kiss Penelope
the night before
?
Reclined in an arm chair, Colton threw his head back and laughed. “Come, John, you can’t expect me to
hand over the urn after one day calling on Lady Penelope.
Was it really so awful to spend time in the company of a woman?
”
John glared at Colton. “I have no doubt after one day with me
,
Lady Penelope is quite over her infatuation with you.”
Colton’s expression sobered.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“
Nothing at all. Give me the urn.”
Colton set aside his newspaper and stood. “No.
I can hardly believe you’ve accomplished anything in a mere day. Especially with Penelope.
”
He raked a hand through his hair, concern and doubt drifting through his expression. “Give me two weeks. Two weeks of light hearted courting and I will give you the urn.”
“What is it about this girl, Colt?” John speared his brother with a shrewd gaze. “None of this makes sense. If
you’re so hung up on
Lady Penelop
e
, marry her.”
Colton appeared pained. “I can’t.”
“Why not?
Because you’re engaged to the Featherton girl?
”
John shook his head. “I fail to understand why you proposed to her in the first place
if Penelope is so important.”
Colt averted his gaze. “It’s complicated.”
John crossed his arms, resting a shoulder against the fireplace mantle. “I don’t understand, Colton.
Are you in trouble?
”
His brother’s jaw clenched, but he gave n
o
verbal
response.
“If you’re in trouble I can help,” John pressed.
“There is no trouble.”
John didn’t believe that for a second.
“I feel guilty is all,” Colt said after a long pause. “Lady Penelope may have believed I would offer more than friendship
. Rightly so. But I… I simply can’t.”
Frustrated, John shook his head. “You’re talking in circles. I fail to understand why you can’t marry the woman you obviously want. You’re a bloody duke. You can do whatever you wish. Penelope is the daughter of an earl. She is also exceedingly beautiful. I should think she’d make any man an exceptional wife.” He strode forward, intent upon gleaning some answers. His brother was obviously hiding something. “What is going on, Colton? I refuse to believe you’re merely nursing a guilty conscience. Penelope is important to you or else you wouldn’t go to so much trouble with this charade. Something prevented you from following through with your plans for her. What?”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Colt paced a miserable circle about the room. “You and your unwavering sense of honor could never understand!”
Unmoved by the outburst, John stood firm. “Try me.”
Colton slumped into a chair, resting his elbows on his knees.
For a moment the assured duke disappeared and John saw only the boyishly rueful façade of his big brother. The big brother forever in trouble with their father for some mischief or another.
The boy
that
never meant any harm, but never managed to keep his nose
clean either.
“If you wish to help, court Penelope for a few days more. I don’t wish to see her hurt.”
*
*
*
“Lady Penelope, Lord John Breckenridge to see you,” the butler announced.
Penelope swallowed and set aside her needlepoint.
Blast it
. The antidote hadn’t worked.
Two days had passed since the dinner party and she’d just begun to hope Corrine’s magic had proved effective.
“Thank you, Carleton. I’ll see him in the parlor.” Her mind spun as she took a moment to collect her thoughts and reign in the n
erves bandying about her belly.
Even as she knew it was wrong to accept affections
from a man under the influence of a
G
ypsy spell, excitement leapt in her breast with the prospect of seeing him again. Despite herself, she liked Lord John. His kiss still burned upon her lips. And moreover, she enjoyed talking with him.
Setting off to the parlor, she mumbled to herself, “What shall I do?”
John stood just inside the room, hands clasped behind his back, contemplating a large portrait hanging on the wall.
“Good afternoon, Lord John.”
He turned with a smile, his dark eyes alight as they fell upon her. “Penelope.” He nodded in return. “
I hope I’m not coming at a bad time.”
“Not at all. You saved me from a very dull afternoon of needlepoint.”
He grinned. “Now I feel absolutely gallant.”
Penelope laughed, and seated herself on the loveseat.
John quickly followed suit, sitting in an adjacent chair. “I had hoped to invite you for a drive, but I fear the weather is far too cold today.”
He winked. “Perhaps we could play a quick game of cards instead.”
Once again Penelope laughed
,
surprised by how utterly at ease John seemed in her presence. It would be so easy to give in, relax, and enjoy his company.
“I will win you know. I’m rarely bested in cards.”
“Yes, well, we both know why that is.” John leaned forward with an easy grin, a twinkle lighting his eye.
His gaze dropped to her mouth,
heat sparking in their depths,
and Penelope’
s breath caught.
“I suppose I should apologize
for my forward behavior the other night,” he said in a low, husky voice. “But I don’t particularly want to.”
He reached across the distance to brush his knuckles across her cheek.
Heat flushed through Penelope’s face and her skin tingled from his touch. She smiled,
and
all thought of ineffective antidotes fled from her mind. “If you had a drive in mind
,
it’s a pity you didn’t come yesterday.” She couldn’t resist flirting a little.
John sat back. “I would have, but I had a meeting at the War Office with my superiors regarding my next assignment.”
“Oh?” Penelope shifted in her seat,
trying to ignore the
disappointment
that seeped into her bones.
“Will you be leaving the country?”
she asked intuitively, thinking back to their conversation the night of the party.
“No
,
”
h
e replied. “Quite the opposite, actually. My brother needs a bit of help managing his lands in the north, and
the War Office would like a stronger military presence, primarily militia, in the same area. So I am to be promoted and stationed in the north to organize local militia regiments and provide a family presence in my brother’s stead.”
“A promotion! John, that’s wonderful. Are you happy with the arrangement?”
“I am, yes. Surprisingly
, it’
s nice to be back in England.
It feels like
home
again
.”
Penelope nodded. “I understand
.” She sobered a bit. “I miss my home.”
“You mean living with your father.”
“Yes
, but it is not so much the place as the people. The happiness
.
” Penelope hesitated, clasping her hands in her lap.
“
After my mother died, Papa became so melancholy
. It was as if
nothing else existed for him except the pain of loss. My home became little more than a lonely tomb. I was so happy when we came to Town for the season.” She gulped, clasped fingers trembling. “My debut season. H-he suffered a mental break while parliament was in session.”
John’s dark gaze flickered with empathy. He knew loss and would never judge her for her father’s deep depression.
“
He is m
uch better now. Still sad at times and withdrawn, but in control of his faculties nonetheless.”
“But that house isn’t home any longer is it
,
” John said softly, the words more of a statement than a question.
“No.” Penelope gave her head a small shake. “I enjoy staying with my cousins, but I long for a place that is my own.”
John regarded her seriously.
E
yes alive with support… empathy… and something more. Something deeper that sent shivers of awareness along her spine. Her heart swelled in
response. “Penelope, I
believe you and I are kindred spirits.”
Kindred spirits.
Souls destined to be find one another and be forever entwined.
Trapped in John’s dark eyes she could not look away. Mysterious eyes.
Eyes that were shadowed and yet warm… the color of cinnamon.
Cinnamon!
Penelope shot to her feet. “John,
I don’t know the right way to tell you this, but…” She wrung her hands. “You see…”
He gazed at her quizzically.
“Any feelings you have for me are the result of a
G
ypsy love potion that my cousins convinced me to try.”
“Gypsy potion.”
John regarded her
cautiously. “Is this a joke?
Do you mean to deflect my interest by fabricating stories?
”
“No. Not at all. I
like you, John, which is why you must know the truth. I
never believed it would work, and—”
John burst out laughing. “A love potion? Oh, that is rich.”
“I’m so
rry,” Penelope blurted
.
“It wasn’t even meant for you. You dra
nk the potion quite by accident. When you mentioned feeling
compelled
to call on me
,
I knew it
had
worked. I cannot abide you—”
“Penelope. Penelope,” John interrupted,
unable to wipe the grin from his mouth. “I’m not here as a result of some Gypsy brew. My brother bribed me to pay you court.”
Penelope stopped short.
Bribed?
“Y-your brother?
”
Certain
ly
she’d misunderstood. She backed up a step, acid boiling in her stomach.
“
He
paid
you to call on me?”
All mirth fell instantly from John’s face. “Penelope, wait. I spoke out of turn. Please und—”
“
The duke put you up to this?”
Her mind whirled as hurt and
mortification
crashed down around her. A direct blow to the stomach couldn’t have staggered her more powerfully. “You must think me such a fool.”
“No.
I don’t. I swear it.”
“All I wanted was to ensure you liked me for
me
, not some silly hokum.”
“I do like you, Penelope.” John strode forward, reaching for her.
She quickly spun away. “Oh, no. However naïve you deem me to be, I know bet
ter than to believe that. You were
bribed
to spend time with me. Colton—” Her voice cracked and she gulped back a sob. “He… you…”
Her throat constricted, choking off the words. Tears burned her eyes, blurring John’s handsome visage as
he closed the distance between them. She backed quickly away, but ran into
a chair.
“
Penelope, don’t cry.
”
He caught her
before she could escape, clasping her upper arms in his strong palms.
“Hear me out,” he ordered, voice deep and thick with emotion.
“Let me go.”
Before she could mount any protest, John slipped one arm about her waist and tugged her against the firm wall of his chest.
He leaned d
own and took her lips in a hard, rather ineloquent
kiss that s
hocked
her to instant silence.
Responding
purely on instinct, Penelope swayed in, tilting her head to allow for better access. John acted immediately, softening his
mouth
against hers
. Ever so gently, he teased the crease of her lips, encouraging her to open for him.
She parted her lips naturally
, allowing his tongue to dip into her mouth. She shivered
, excited by the forbidden pleasure.
This was nothing like the
simple kiss from the other night, and yet, what kiss was simple
when even a whisper of his lips
sent her senses reeling?
