Bewitched (6 page)

“Finally,” John m
uttered, draggi
ng his hat even further down his brow. He was bound and determined to
glean some answers in regard to Colton’s odd behavior
.
It wouldn’t do for his brother to spot him now.

As soon as Colton and his friends disappeared around the corner
,
John cut a swift path across the snow littered street and
strode u
p the freshly shoveled steps of
Townsend’s
.
He’d been out of the London scene for some time
, but
certain
things never changed.
The gossips for one.
John entered the establishment
and looked immediately
to the back of the main dining room.

He almost smiled.
Almost.
Just as he
’d
suspected
,
three of the
ton’s
most notorious gentleman occupied a table beside
the deco
rative stone hearth.
If anyone knew what trouble Colton had landed himself in
it would be these three—Christ
ian Poltier, Lord Jackson
Dawes
, and Thomas Roust.

“Lord John.” The door attendant whipped officiously to his side. “Might I interest you in—”

“No,” John interrupted, intent on his current mission. Without another word, John handed the attendant his c
oat and hat, and moved
toward the trio at the back of the room.

A thin haze of cigar smoke hung above the table as the men roared over some joke or another.

Dawes
’s shrewd eyes snapped up, instantly slicing through John. He grinned though the gesture was
far more calculating than
friendly. “John Breckenridge! By damn. Who’d have thought to see you in London?”

Roust and Poltier swiveled instantly. “By God man. It’s been an age.”

John simply nodded in greeting, taking the fourth chair at the table.
He waved away a proffered cheroot, but accepted
a sniffer of brandy, dragging
a slow
assessing gaze around the table
. Insubstantial fops the lot of them. Naught but insecure men with nothing better to do than dri
nk and bully those around them.

Both Roust and Poltier
shied from John’s direct gaze
.
Dawes
on the other hand stared straight through John. “Breckenridge,” he drawled, leaning forward, squinty eyes fixed on John’s. “What brings you in? Why I haven’t seen you here since…”

John narrowed his gaze dangerously.

Dawes
smirked. “Never mind.
Your wife is old news.”

John didn’t immediately reply. With effort
,
he quashed the acid reply sitting on his tongue
,
and forced himself to take a lazy sip of brandy
.

He gazed squarely
into
Daw
e
s
’s cruel blue eyes
. “I understand my brother
is in some trouble
.
”
John cut straight to the point.

“
Trouble?”
Dawes
leaned back, dro
pping the end of his cigar
in
his brandy.
A long curl of smoke swirled out of the glass.
“I understand
congratulations are in order.”

Roust snickered. “
Ah, yes. Congratulations indeed.
Miss Featherton
is exceedingly rich
,
and I understand His Grace had an exceptionally bad run at the tables of late. Some rather large markers were called in
.
”

John gulped. Colton had never wanted for funds. Dear God
, how much had his brother los
t? It must be an obscene amount.

“And
then there was that
scene with
Mr.
Featherton
,
” Roust added.

“
Michael Featherton
?” John pressed.
“Who
s
e
daughter Colton is to marry?”

Dawes
lit a fresh cigar, slowly puffing. John ground a fist into his thigh, fighting to hold his temper in check. Finally the other man leaned back, making eye contact with John. “
The two of them made one hell of a scene here a few weeks back.” He shrugged. “We never did catch w
ind of the specifics, but two days later an engagement was announced. A few are speculating a child may be in your brother’s very near future.”

“Jesus,” John cursed under his breath. “Colt
,
what trouble have you gotten into this time?”

*
             
*
             
*

“
Penny
!
”
Marie burst through the bedroom door in full eve
ning attire
, breathless and cheeks high with color
.
“Lord John has just arrived.”

Penelope dropped the lid on her jewelry box, quashing a rush of panic
.
“But it’s not yet eight o’clock.
”
Leave it to a military man to arrive fashionably early instead of late
.
She smoothed her hands
al
ong her skirt of ice blue silk.
“Has Corrine finished
?”

“Almost.
She will get the antidote to us just as soon as it’s finished.”

“Goo
d.” Penelope gave a quick nod.
N
ow that the party had arrived, the nerves bandying about in her stomach raged to a state of
full blown war
.

“Come quickly.”
Marie waved her toward the hall.
“Mama sent me to fetch you.”

Penelope hesitated, casting a searching glance about the room. “Have you borrowed my sapphire earbobs?”

Marie blinked in surprise
.
“No.”

“Strange…” Penelope murmured.
“I would have sworn I saw them in my drawer just yesterday, but I can’t find them anywhere.”

“We’ll ask Kate and Mama if they’ve seen them,” Marie suggested, grabbing Penelope’s arm and dragging her into the hall
.
“But right now you need to get downstairs to avert further disaster.”

Penelope groaned
.
“Further disaster?”

“
Yes
.
Colonel Holbrook is to attend
and Mama has it in her head to put you at a card table with him
and
Lord John.”

“Heaven help us.”
She’d have to glean a quick moment alone with he
r aunt before the party began.

That conversation
would have to wait, however, for as she and Marie rounded the curve on the main staircase
,
Penelope caught sight of Lord John
.

Her stomach
fluttered
.

S
urprise
d
,
Penelope slowed her steps a bit, drawing out her de
s
cent
and buying an extra second to take his measure.
Dressed once again to the last stitch in black, Lord John
stood
apart from the other guests, serious and brooding, looking more like a medieval conqueror than a gentleman attending a London
card
party.
His simple evening-attire could not mask the
hard angles
of his body
,
and h
e exuded a gruff, no-nonsense air
. She had no doubt that i
n full military
regalia
he’d be absolutely fierce. But there was more beneath his so
lemn façade and menacing figure
.
Penelope had caught glimpse
of it
earlier that afternoon.
S
he suspec
ted his lordship to be a bit sad
.

His gaze lifted and
Penelope’s breath caught.
Vast obsidian eyes fixed directly on her
, focused and unwavering
, drawing her in.
She descended the stairs as though
to sink
into
the dark depths.
He moved forward, each step fused with primal purpose. John took her hand and a shiver
of awareness raced up her arm.
Goodnes
s
. I
f she didn’t know better she might suspect her cousins had dosed
her
with a love potion.

“Good evening, Lady Penelope.” He lifted her knuckles to his lips, never moving his smoldering gaze from hers.

“Lord John,” she murmured. “I am so pleased you could come.
”

The ghost of a smile quirked his lips. “I brought you something.” He produced
a
palm size gilded frame with a small painting inside.

A
hand fluttered to her breast as she took the
tiny picture. “They’re painted lilies.”

“So you’ll always be reminded of your mother.”

Penelope blinked back a slick of tears, so touched by the simple gift she could think of nothing suitable to say.
Amazing, but her every conversation with this man turned meaningful within seconds. No practiced pleasantries or time filled with idle talk of weather and balls. John would have little patience for such
,
she realized. This man was genuine to his very core. And thoughtful
despite his gruff exterior
. This couldn’t all b
e the result of the love potion
could it?

“Thank you, my lord.”

“John,” he returned softly. “My brother is
the duke, I am John. Or Major
Breckenridge
if you prefer.”

She smiled gently
, noting the amber
flecks lending
a golden hue
to his eyes
.
“I prefer John,
”
she answered boldly.

He winked
, the act surprisingly
playful
given his
usually
grim demeanor
. “As do I.
Tell me, Lady Penelope—
”

“I do hope I’m not interrupting,” a male voi
ce boomed.

Penelope startled. She’d nearly forgotten they were st
anding in a crowded entry
way.
She turned
quickly
. “Colonel Holbrook.” She bobbed a quick curtsey. “How good of you to come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, my dear.
”
Colonel Holbrook’s gaze slid
lazily down Penelope’s face, lingering on her bodice. “I have a meeting with your uncle later this week.” He reached out and snared her free hand, pressing a
wet
kiss to her fingers. “We will be discussing you.”

There was no mistaking his intention.
Unease slithered through her veins. It was growing e
ver
more clear
that
her heart had no intention of reconciling with her mind the possibility of Colonel Holbrook as a suitor.
“Colonel,” she said quickly, tugging her fingers from his grasp. “Are you acquainted with Lord John Breckenridge? He is a fellow soldier I’m told.”

The
c
olonel’s
expression grew stern as he
turned to
John. “Breckenridge,” he clipped, challenge
s
parking
in his eye
.
“I see you’ve
finally returned to London.
Finished hiding out?
”

Hiding?
Penelope’s interest piqued.
From what I wonder?
She flicked her gaze back to John.

Menace hardened
his eyes to flint. John
pulled his shoulders back, straightening
to his full height
—
several inches taller than the
colonel. “Holbrook
,
I see you’re
still
in London
.
How is that desk at the War O
ffice treating you? Exciting?
”