The Midnight Rake (20 page)

She opened the scrap and turned toward the room, pausing for no apparent reason as she stared at the paper. She took several breaths, an unreadable expression upon her face.

Phin took a small step forward, clenching his drink as Penelope spoke.

“Viscount Fenhurst.”

Surprised to hear his name announced, he almost dropped his brandy when Con slapped him on the back.

“What are the odds? Good fortune smiled upon you this evening. Considering the amount of gentlemen in attendance, it’s incredibly good luck Penelope chose your name. The odds must be forty to one.”

“More like an impossibility,” he muttered, surprise and appreciation clouding his thoughts. Perhaps the evening would not be a total disappointment.

“Not an impossibility,” Devlin joined with a chuckle. “Penny announced
your
name.”

Phin turned to face his friends, a flick of his fingertips revealing the scrap of foolscap he’d tucked into his waistcoat pocket earlier. “No. An impossibility without a doubt. I never put my name in that blasted bowl.”

He didn’t wait to hear their remarks. He was needed at the front of the room as a midnight round of charades held an all new appeal. Uncanny, how the evening could turn around so swiftly. He reached for Penelope’s gloved hand and winked at her clever maneuver, much to her delight.

Chapter Fifteen

Penelope adjusted the skirt of her muslin day gown a second time and attempted a smile. She reclined in the salon with Lady Fenhurst ready to accept callers although she did not feel well. Dark smudges showed beneath her eyes revealing the evidence of a night spent tossing and turning, her tumultuous emotions torn between the exhilarating remembrance of Phin’s kiss and her dire responsibility to find Simon. No matter how often she told herself to stop considering Phineas in romantic terms, her stubborn heart remained deaf to the instruction.

And too, all through the ridiculous schedule of parlor games last evening, he was outright charming and breathtakingly handsome. How could she not want to spend every waking minute with him? Would everything begin to unravel like the first time she dared risk emotion on a man’s affection?

“
Mon dieu
, what has you so discomposed? You haven’t spoken a word this morning.” Lady Fenhurst moved from the windows and sat on the end of a chaise near the fireplace. She reached for Penelope’s hand and nodded her head, her eyes soft with concern. “What troubles you, dear? You’re not yourself. Are you unwell? Shall I have Jenkins summon the physician?”

“Forgive me. I’m merely tired. I’m afraid I’m not accustomed to late-night functions and the whirlwind of responsibilities of such gatherings. I met dozens of people last night, but not the one individual I seek. I’m beginning to think it is hopeless.” She forced another tight smile.

“
Au contraire
. You’ve experienced a rich evening and feel overwhelmed, that is all. I would never have expected Lady Livingston to visit before calling hours, but it is her way. She’s eccentric and at times unexpected, but she’s also a dear friend who knows everyone who moves within the
ton
. I thought it important you meet so she may assist in locating the gentleman you wish to find.” Lady Fenhurst’s face displayed true maternal concern.

“Oh, yes. I do wish to meet her. Please don’t think otherwise. I am fine.” She managed a stronger expression in hope of dispelling any worry although her heart ached. If only she could locate Simon and recover her mother’s cameo. She doubted he would return all the funds he’d stolen, but if he’d relent concerning that one piece of jewelry, she would not complain. That is, if he’d held onto the jeweled piece. A lick of despair threatened tears. It meant so much to her. As time dragged on, the chances of finding Simon grew more and more dismal.

“I understand. I too had much on my mind as I returned from my social call last evening. Some dreadful gossipmonger mentioned seeing Phineas embraced in a servant’s alcove with an unknown woman.
Quelle horreur!
My son would never do such a thing. I raised him to be the cut of decorum and he always behaves with
savoir faire.
Detestable gossip, it will mar his reputation.”

Penelope reached for her teacup as Lady Fenhurst’s dramatic comments buoyed her disposition. If only she knew they considered the same incident, albeit for different reasons. She took a sip of tea, but didn’t taste it. As she replaced her cup, Jenkins entered the room to announce a visitor.

“My lady, Lady Livingston has arrived.”

Penelope thought she detected Jenkins’ usual reserve discomfited. Lady Fenhurst bade him to bring in their guest and they were soon seated with fresh tea all round.

Dorothy Livingston proved true to description and at the least, eccentric. As a woman of advanced age, she wore the most current fashion, though something about her display appeared misplaced. She leaned heavily on a black cane with an ivory knob fashioned in the head of a panther, the ruby jewel-set eyes beyond compare. Her hair, adorned with a feathered plume in a deep teal color, blended with the grey streaked auburn of her coif. Several gold hairpins littered the back of her head, as if they’d been thrust in to contain the natural overflow. Her gown, made of the finest silk, gathered high at the waist where it met a daring neckline, all secured with a large ornate brooch and a collection of elaborate pins holding a lace fichu in place. Penelope stifled an amused gasp at the venturesome appearance she portrayed.

On Lady Fenhurst’s direction, Jenkins rolled Mon Ami’s cage forward. Now accustomed to the parrot’s sudden squawks and unexpected comments, Penelope viewed the room with a wry little smile. The scene made for a rather outlandish tea party, most especially as the Countess fussed over the bird, cooing affectionately and feeding it nuts. Before Penny could consider it further, Lady Livingston’s silk glove touched her arm.

“Accompany me for a turn around the room, dear. My legs ache from the long carriage ride through Mayfair.” Lady Livingston didn’t wait for a reply. “Besides, Victoria is too enamored with her silly pet right now to pay me attention. She misses her daughter terribly. I’m sure she’s enraptured to have not one but two females to dote over, spoil and accompany about. You are doing her a great service, as much as you assert she’s assisting you.”

Lady Livingston reached the room’s perimeter, her heeled slippers offsetting the dull thump of her cane as she moved at a leisurely pace. Penelope fell in step beside her, offering the endearing woman a heartfelt smile. Lady Livingston possessed a likeability that easily explained her popularity among the
ton
. Reaching for her arm with a gentle grasp, the two began to circle the room.

“If she fussed over her husband the way she attends to that bird, they’d have a much richer marriage.” Lady Livingston spoke softly, even though no one could hear the cheeky comment.

Penelope stifled her unexpected laughter. Lady Livingston was proving to be as full of surprises as her outlandish dress. “Oh, I haven’t met the earl. He’s not been in house since my arrival.”

“Oh, you won’t likely meet him either. He travels for months at a time. When at last he concludes he should visit home, you will be well and married.” Then her voice rose as if to supply a piece of innocuous conversation within everyone’s hearing range. “Victoria tells me you’re looking for a man. Well, aren’t we all?”

Unsure if the question required an answer, Penelope remained silent. Instead she focused on the older woman’s diamond jewelry where she clasped tightly to her arm. There were easily three ornate rings on each hand, one more extravagant than the other, and a smart collection of bangles too, one adorned with a ruby ladybug.

Lady Fenhurst, who
had
been listening to the conversation, chose to interject, her attention drawn from Mon Ami.

“Not any man, Dottie.”

Penelope grinned. How appropriate that this flamboyant woman go by such a gregarious moniker.

“Penelope is looking for someone in particular. We thought with your extensive knowledge of the
ton
you were the veritable resource we needed to locate the man. And after we settle this matter, I hope you’ll assist me with my next visitor.” Lady Fenhurst’s eyes followed them as they continued to advance around the perimeter. “I’m consorting to arrange a match for Phineas. He will never know what hits him when he sees the lovely dove I’ve secured.”

Victoria Betcham delivered her words without taking a breath, confirming she had one solitary mission to see her son married. A rush of nervousness caused Penelope’s stomach to twist.

Dorothy leaned a bit closer and offered another conspiratorial whisper. “I assumed Phineas preferred a different type of bird altogether.”

The older woman patted her hand where it lay on her arm and Penny matched her eyes with prompt attention. She knew Phineas was a full-blooded male to the heart. It would appear Lady Fenhurst’s desire to see her son as a paragon of virtue left an alternative impression with some members of the
ton
. The misunderstanding made Penelope quick to defend him.

“Oh no, I’m positive that’s not true.” Penelope flushed at hearing the conviction in her tone, her face immediately heated.

“Good for you, my dear.” Dorothy eyed her, drawing fast conclusions. “Now tell me about this other gentleman, the one you seek so I may assist you. Victoria speaks the truth. I have been alive long enough to be acquainted with everyone seeking notoriety and all other miscreants in between.”

Having circled the room twice, they moved to the sitting area ready to give the conversation their full attention.

Dorothy took a sip of tea, then replaced her cup in the saucer and adjusted her bodice, the weight of an emerald brooch pulling the fabric out of form. “Let’s get down to business. Tell me about this man you seek.”

“Well, he’s a liar and a thief…” Penelope stopped herself mid-thought. “I apologize, Lady Livingston. I should not have said those things about Simon.” Again, blood rushed to her cheeks in embarrassment.

“Never mind dear, and please call me Dottie. All men say pretty things and steal our hearts making your description fairly accurate in my perception. What brings you here to find this man? Has he wronged you or are you simply chasing him because you fancy yourself in love? I’m not sure I approve of this match. Anyone would be foolish beyond permission to abandon such a beautiful lady as yourself.”

Victoria stood abruptly. “How true. Let me find our copy of the social register. Julia keeps it somewhere in this salon. Perhaps on the writing desk.” She continued in a vehement tone, her words trailing after her as she crossed the room, “If only all gentlemen would practice impeccable manners. Phineas would never take advantage of a lady.”

“If you ask me, there lies the problem,” Dorothy mused in a near whisper.

Penelope looked down at her hands to hide her smile. “Lady Fenhurst may not know her son as fully as she believes,” she answered sotto voce, amused by their conversation within the conversation.

Dorothy caught her eye and winked with approval. “Now things are getting interesting.”

The old woman drew back and adjusted the sagging bodice of her gown, but the weight of the jeweled brooch caused the material to droop as soon as her fingers released it. Penelope followed the action and awareness caused her breath to catch.

“Lady Livingston, I mean Dottie,” she corrected in a flurry of words, “your cameo brooch resembles a piece of jewelry my mother favored. I understand it came from a small collection created by an Italian artisan. I’ve never seen another piece with so many similarities.”

Dorothy glanced to the pin at her bodice. “You must be mistaken. This is a rare piece by Dilgano. Look at the translucent agate intaglio and delicate features of the cameo face. The workmanship is unmatched.”

Dorothy removed the pin with care and held it flat in her palm. The filigree work of the gold frame looked identical to the cameo Penelope once owned. The woman’s face, carved intricately into the delicate shell appeared the same in every detail, an exact replica of her mother’s cameo. Had the intaglio been green agate instead of blue, she would have sworn Lady Livingston held her mother’s missing brooch, the same one with which Simon absconded. Dorothy seemed reluctant to place the brooch into her extended hand, but more the pity she would have liked to examine it closely.

“There were only five brooches created before the artisan died.” Dorothy’s eyes clouded with emotion. “The romantic story tells how Dilgano sought to create a masterpiece beyond compare to win the affection of his beloved. As is the case with many artists, he remained plagued by his desire for perfection wanting the woman of his heart to possess his finest work. Dissatisfied with his creations, he completed five cameos before discovering the lady he admired had married another. He never gave her the gift that obsessed him. It is said he died of a broken heart soon after.

“Regardless of Dilgano’s faults, his workmanship is flawless. The five brooches are priceless and highly regarded. No one could possess one without knowing the history and its worth. You must be confused. To own a Dilgano would secure one’s elevated position forever and guarantee wealth without a doubt.” Dorothy replaced the pin and patted Penelope’s knee in reassurance.

Penelope remained silent. Dorothy’s story presented another riddle to solve. Could her mother have owned such a valuable brooch and not known the worth? Or not told her father? Rather unlikely, considering her father’s undeniable desire to elevate their station, that he would possess such a priceless piece of jewelry and not use it to its full advantage nor tell Penelope or Aubry during his decline. Questions whirled through her mind. Each possibility presented new queries, equally confusing. Dottie must have misconstrued her thoughtful silence as reticence.

“You realize now you are mistaken. I understand. It is an alluring piece of jewelry,” Dorothy replied, her tone a mixture of compassion and kindness.

But Penny did not need reassurance, positive her mother’s cameo matched the piece made by Dilgano.