Authors: Anabelle Bryant
“Phineas!” Lady Fenhurst’s outraged exclamation pierced the ballroom and the twittering crowd quieted to hear every word. The musicians remained silent. Not even the shuffling of clothing or scuff of shoes rippled the air. “You will—”
“Stubble it, Maman!”
Withstanding the collective gasp, Phineas would not be deterred even while Con pursued a resolution.
“We should attempt to resolve this as gentlemen.” Con nodded his head in opposing directions indicating the two men standing toe to toe in the middle of the dance floor. “Follow me to the drawing room. I will mediate the disagreement and find a satisfactory solution without the threat of a duel come sunrise.”
Not wishing for anymore unwanted attention, Phineas heard Ridley grunt approval, a clear glint of recklessness in his eye ascertained a duel would have suited him fine. Phin had no desire to draw pistols. The pleasure found in physically striking Ridley for the horrible insult he boasted too rewarding. The punishment he’d offered the man the night before was nothing compared to the pummeling he deserved.
One word cut through his haze of anger.
“Wait.” Penelope’s voice trembled, as if she didn’t trust herself to speak. “I need to join you.”
He viewed her, so determined and lovely, lost in the middle of their confrontation with myriad emotions flittering across her face, and the hard glint of desperation in her eyes. Seething with personal conflict, he’d almost forgotten her stake in the situation. When he’d finally fitted all the pieces together on his interminable ride to the event, his concern for her welfare overwhelmed him to the core and the same protectiveness blinded him now.
And jealousy, devil take it.
When he entered the room and saw Ridley twirl Penny across the floor, a fist of possessiveness gripped him with such force he could not breathe.
What words could he offer? His heart ached with the emotion evident in Penelope’s eyes, but he couldn’t allow her to follow him. Knowing little would placate her, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “
Chère amie
, this is not a matter for you to solve.”
He knew she would object. Her entire body stiffened. Then the musicians resumed their melodies and people began to mill about, although a good amount of guests remained motionless anxious for the latest
on dit
.
“Considering it is
my
future,
my
dowry, and
my
past instigating this confrontation, I find it infuriating I would be excluded from the resolution.”
Her vehement objection guaranteed she would be livid once they had the opportunity to speak later. Regardless of the consequences to their own relationship, he needed to protect her above all else.
“While it may be true, it is not what brought me to this challenge.” He leaned in closer, his voice firm. “I mean to protect you. Ridley has insulted your honor and reputation.”
She offered him a look of outrage. Beside them, Con cleared his throat and initiated their leave. The scheduled entertainment had resumed but they continued to present a spectacle on the ballroom floor. The three men moved with alacrity toward the hallway, Penelope dogging their steps.
They entered an empty drawing room across the hall and Phineas told himself not to glance over his shoulder, but he did, catching a glimpse of Penelope’s pleading expression. It transformed into pure betrayal as the door closed. He couldn’t let her dejection color his purpose. He strode to the center of the room, disallowing Con the chance to breach the subject, and launched at Ridley, landing a solid right to his jaw. His head snapped back with a crack. Phineas exhaled fully and smiled.
“Shall I address you as Ridley or Maddock?” His voice hung sharp. “You’ve come into London like a scourge, lying, cheating and greasing your way through town. It’s no surprise you are the blackguard responsible for Penelope’s past sadness and current predicament.”
Ridley backed away a few steps although his mouth was running fast. “I thought we left the ballroom to avoid a fight. Besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Phin impaled the man with a scathing look, daring him to repudiate the insulting accusations pinned to his name. When Ridley remained silent, Phin worked to unbutton his gloves, the action snapping Con to attention before Phineas speared him with a menacing glare. His friend best not suggest he seek an apologetic handshake or Phin wouldn’t be responsible for the violence that followed. He narrowed his eyes and considered where to hit Ridley next. Perhaps a solid punch to the midriff would have him coughing up answers. That is, if Ridley remained standing after the blow.
“We are here to resolve, not ignite the problem.” Con’s voice was laced with warning. “An apology for the insult to Miss Rosebery’s honor is the priority of this meeting.” He turned his attention from one man to the other. “If Ridley’s apology does not meet with your approval, you may declare your weapons, seconds, and meet in Richmond Park within forty-eight hours for a duel. This will not be settled with fisticuffs.”
Phin retreated to a spot across the room, no longer trusting himself to be near Ridley once his explanation began. Constantine knew of his boxing ability. Needing to keep his hands busy, he fished his lucky penny from his pocket and passed it purposefully from one palm to the other to mollify his temper.
“I’m agreeable to the terms.” Ridley rubbed his palm across his jaw, the skin already showing signs of swelling. “Ridley is my surname and how I choose to spend my money is no one’s business but my own. I suspect you’re angrier about losing Trump’s stallion than any insult voiced against the Rosebery chit.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Phin clenched the coin in his left fist. “Gentlemen in London live by a code of honor. Your manipulation of the horse auction and distasteful insult to Penelope are offensive without doubt, but there is something in your history I cannot dismiss with a mere apology. You swindled the Rosebery family. You will either return the funds you stole or I’ll contact a Bow Street Runner and have you arrested before morning.” His voice resounded with finality in the otherwise quiet room.
“You have no proof other than the lady’s word, and her opinion soured after I lost interest. You impugn
my honor
. Your false accusations can never be proved.” He punctuated his statements with a disdainful snort.
Phineas tossed the coin he held in a high arc above their heads. He snatched it from the air extending his closed palm toward Ridley. “Are you bold enough to risk your future on the flip of a coin? Heads, we fight like men, no weapons, two days hence at Richmond. Or tails, you return Penelope’s monies and belongings before taking your permanent leave.”
Con remained unusually quiet, the air heavy as they waited for Ridley’s response.
“You can’t prove a damn thing. You’re bluffing.”
“No longer confident, are you?” He motioned with his fist. “I have the cameo in my waistcoat pocket. I won it when I beat you at piquet. It’s an original piece once belonging to Penelope’s mother. How would you explain it to Bow Street?”
“Another bluff. A random piece of jewelry? That cameo might have belonged to anyone.”
“No, not random at all. You tossed it on the table in front of a circle of witnesses. I’ve conferred with Rundell and Bridge on Fleet Street and had it confirmed as a Dilgano. The most prominent jewelers in London estimated its value at fifteen thousand pounds. You sought only to bilk the Rosebery family out of their household funds, but you inadvertently stole a fortune and then tossed it away. The fact that this particular cameo found its way into your pocket is no insignificant matter when coupled with Penny’s accusations. It will condemn you now.”
Ridley’s eyes flared, but he remained silent. Con wore an expression of confident impress.
“Call it, Ridley. Heads, we settle this with fisticuffs and never make mention of it again. Tails, you return the monies and get the hell out.”
“This is nothing more than a sorry attempt to cut a sham and have me admit to something I didn’t do.”
“Suit yourself. I haven’t visited Jackson’s all week. I could use the practice.” He recognized the capricious look in Ridley’s eye, certain the man weighed his options. “If you think you will get your greedy hands on this cameo or Penelope, let me make myself crystal clear. Don’t go near her. Not close enough to breathe the same air. I’ll protect her with my life.” He’d long before dropped his hand, the coin clenched in his fist, but he raised it one last time.
“Heads.” Ridley spat the word, an ugly sneer twisting his lips as Phineas opened his fist revealing the silver profile of King George III.
“Then we have an appointment. Two days’ time.”
Ridley back-stepped, perhaps wary Phineas would lunge regardless of their agreement. Then he turned and left the room, the door barely closed before Con rushed forward.
“What the devil were you thinking? You mean to fight him? Ridley can’t be trusted to abide by the rules. How did you know he would take the bait? What if he’d chosen tails?”
Phineas took a deep breath before replying. He turned the coin twice over in his palm, amused as Con’s smile slid into place.
“The coin shows heads on both sides?”
“Did I not mention it is my lucky penny?”
Relief replaced all earlier tension to leave only questions in its wake. Con went to the sideboard and filled two snifters with liberal portions of brandy. Phin accepted the drink, took a long swallow and swirled the brandy in his glass before speaking.
“I only bought us time. I will never be satisfied until Ridley disappears and Penelope no longer lies in harm’s way. At least I had the good sense not to tell her I gained the cameo. It may prevent the bastard from pursuing her, if for no other reason than to come after me instead. Although then it would be easy work to lay him out flat and connect him to multiple crimes.”
“So Ridley is part of Penelope’s past?” Con took another sip before setting his glass down.
“It’s a complicated story I will gladly explain later. With hope he accepted my claims concerning the cameo, as I’ve not visited the jewelers and took a liberal leap of faith.”
“Telling mistruths? Challenging men to duels? This is a side of you I’ve never seen. You do realize you told your mother to stubble it in front of over one hundred guests?”
“The heart causes the mind to do peculiar things.” He set down his glass and quirked a bemused smile. “I can’t waste any more time. Penelope and Maman were sure to attempt damage control and leave once we removed ourselves from the dance floor, but I wouldn’t doubt either one of them waits to launch upon me as soon as I return to the townhouse.”
Three hours past midnight, Phin returned to a quiet house. During the ride he reviewed the night’s events, assured his mother would be mortified by the scene he perpetuated and the public set-down of his anger. She’d become self-conscious of appearances since Winton’s dismissal of Julia, but it resurrected remembrances from Natalie’s vocal display only last year. What an ironic twist of fate, that he’d become the perpetrator of scandal when he’d resented the problems Natalie caused in the past.
Nodding to Jenkins, Phineas climbed the stairs two at a time, anxious to see if candlelight showed under Penelope’s doorway because regardless of how improper it would be for him to seek her out at this late hour, he would never be able to sleep until he spoke with her concerning Ridley’s interference. He approached her chambers but not the dimmest crease of light was visible. Verbalizing his frustration in succinct language, he moved toward his bedchamber at the rear of the second floor, a good distance from the guest hall.
Head down, his mind deep in thought, he almost didn’t notice the pacing figure who whipped back and forth before his door. His sister was the only other occupant with rooms on this floor and she remained in Brighton. The person awaiting his arrival could only be Penelope. He quickened his steps and reached her without delay.
“You.”
Her voice, a low whisper, contained a night full of anger in just one syllable. She pointed an accusatory finger at his upper chest.
“You stole my only chance to reclaim my past and right my future. You should have allowed me to speak to Simon.”
With a furtive glance down the dark hallway, he made quick work of opening his chamber door but as he did so, she took two steps back, her startled gasp an echo in the stillness of the night.
“I can’t go in there with you. Those are your rooms.”
“I know.” Her incredulous objection broke through the serious circumstance and he almost smiled despite the evening’s affairs. Not one to pour vinegar into a sour situation, he stifled his grin and continued. “Very well. Let’s move down the hall. There is a common parlor on the left.”
Once inside, he started a few candles from the hallway lantern, although he didn’t need the added light to illuminate Penny’s despair. When she’d confronted him outside his bedchamber, condemnation darkened her eyes prompting his sigh of relief. How he welcomed anger instead of tears. He watched as she moved further within the parlor, her disappointment visible, yet as her eyes passed over the room, curiosity must have taken hold.
“Why is everything covered with sheets and blankets?” She moved further through the arrangement of blanketed furniture toward one of the tall windows, her back to him as she asked the question. He finished lighting the fire in the grate and stood.
“With my sister in Brighton and only my bedchamber on this floor, there is no reason to keep this room open.” The mundane conversation accomplished much in lessening the tension though Phineas knew he was not nearly out of deep water.
“I needed to speak to Simon alone.”
Her tone spoke more of defeat than anything else. The corner of her mouth trembled.
“I could never allow it.” Would he ever understand the depth of emotion that existed between Penelope and Ridley? Why did Penelope keep her secrets tucked so safely inside and what would it take to earn her trust? “Arlis Ridley is a dishonorable man. As long as he continues, no one is safe. I cannot permit you anywhere near him. He’s dangerous because he’s desperate.”