Phillip downed the brandy in one gulp and grimaced as it burned down unsatisfactorily. Bloody thing wasn’t doing much to lighten his mood as he had hoped. He summoned the waiter hovering at a respectful distance and settled deeply into the padded seats with a scowl. Nothing was working so far, not whoring, drowning himself in spirits, or even a visit to several gaming hells could purge him of the thought of a certain pair of bewitching green eyes. He cursed under his breath, calling himself all kinds of a fool for allowing the tiny woman to invade his peace in such an annoying manner. He had even removed himself back to London and still…
“Shall I fetch more brandy, Your Grace?” The waiter’s voice broke into his musings. Phillip shook his head.
“Bring the whole damn bottle,” he replied. “Be quick about it.” The waiter bowed and went to do his bidding, leaving Phillip once
more to brood. He uttered an expletive, drawing the attention of some gentlemen seated nearby, but he paid them no heed. He was in no mood to socialize. What he needed above all else was the oblivion he was sure to find in downing as much brandy as he could stomach. Perhaps then his
thoughts would turn to something else other than her. Where was the damned waiter and his brandy?
“I say, Newbridge!” A florid-faced, beefy fellow plunked down on the seat opposite and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I heard you were back from the boorish countryside.”
Phillip turned and levelled a withering stare at the lad who was beaming at him, oblivious to the murderous intent in his mind. “Unless you have a fond wish to lose your limb, I suggest you remove your hand at once, Bascombe,” he said coldly.
A look of utter confusion crossed Lord Bascombe’s florid face as he beheld the withering look on the Duke’s face. He dropped his hand and settled back into the seat. He was well aware of how dangerous and evil-minded the Duke could be when crossed.
“Apologies, I admit I got ahead of myself,” Lord Bascombe replied quietly. “When did you return?”
Phillip gritted his teeth in barely suppressed fury. The idiot apparently could not take the hint and leave him alone. “Go away, Bascombe,” he forced out between his clenched teeth.
The heavy-set viscount rose and hurried away, quite unwilling to put himself in danger of getting a fistful in the face.
“Where the bloody hell is that damned waiter?” Phillip exploded, pushing to his feet and glancing about. He spotted the idiot hurrying towards him with his order and sank back into the chair.
“I apologize for the delay, Your Grace,” the waiter murmured as he set down the tray bearing the brandy.
“Oh, do shut up and get away, you bumbling fool.”
The man hurried away. Phillip poured himself a large helping and was just about to drink when another hand clapped on his shoulder. He snarled. Why the bloody hell couldn’t he be left alone?
“Drowning your sorrows, I see,” Henry, Lord Westbrooke, observed dryly, moving to take the seat Bascombe had vacated a few minutes ago. He grinned at the surly look on Phillip’s face and proceeded to help himself to the drink.
“Go away, Westbrooke,” Phillip growled, snatching back his bottle. “Find yourself another seat and get your own damned drink.”
Henry chuckled, not in the least deterred. He regarded his friend, noting the stubbly unshaven jaw and the bloodshot angry eyes. “My, my, we are in a snit, aren’t we? Pity. I quite like this seat. It is as close to the fire as possible, and above all, there is a free bottle of brandy with my name on it.”
“Watch your tongue,” Phillip snapped. “I am not in the mood for wise cracks.”
“What is the matter with you? I admit you are usually foul-tempered even on the best of days, but this is quite in the extreme.”
Phillip shot the Earl a withering glare. “Mind your own damn business,” he muttered and gulped his drink. “I thought you were at Millcote anyway? How is it you are plaguing me with your unwelcomed presence?”
“Come now. Admit you are happy to see me. And you should be offering congratulations, for my suit was quite successful.”
“What the devil are you on about?”
Henry gave him a pitying look. “I do believe all this drinking has quite addled your brain. I am talking of my courting Miss Lucy Inglewood. That went quite well, and I believe the elder sister approves of me. By the way, what the devil were you doing at their house the other day? I had no idea you were acquainted with either of them.”
“You ask too many questions. Do be quiet for once?”
Phillip refilled his glass, well aware that the Earl was studying him quite intently. He raised an eyebrow at the curious look on Henry’s face and took a deep sip from his glass.
Suddenly, Henry guffawed and slapped his thigh in amusement. “By heavens! I believe I have got it. You sly devil…That warning you sounded back there…Christ Lord almighty, why did I not see it before?”
Phillip stared at him in astonishment. “Have you gone mad?” “You fancy her—Miss Inglewood.” Henry burst into laughter,
cutting off quickly when Phillip lunged for his throat.
Phillip’s fingers curled around Henry’s cravat, and he tugged viciously, bringing his face close to the Earl’s. Around them, the patrons of the exclusive club watched in varying stages of interest. Fighting within these walls was strictly forbidden, a feat that would get both gentlemen permanently banned from White’s. At the moment, Phillip could care less, although deep down, he knew it would take more than a few words before he hit his childhood friend.
“If you value your life, you will cease that ridiculous notion.” He let go, sending Henry crashing back into the seat.
Henry straightened his cravat, a thoughtful gleam in his eye. He was not in the least bit intimidated by Phillip’s antics; if anything, the reaction had confirmed his suspicions. “The violence was quite unnecessary. You forget that I gave you a sound thrashing the last time we were in the boxing ring together.”
“That was a fortunate encounter on your part,” Phillip replied coolly. “I have beaten you soundly as well.”
“True.” The Earl conceded and withdrew a pocket watch. “By Gads! I must be off to collect Bertha if we are to arrive in Millcote in time for the soiree.”
“What soiree?”
Henry grimaced and replaced the watch in his pocket. “It is Mother’s birthday today, and she’s insisted on throwing a private party. Ah yes, that reminds me…” He reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a slim, gold-embossed envelope. “You should come too, old chap. Miss Rosebury will be in attendance, and so will the Misses Inglewoods.”
Phillip had been about to toss the card into the fireplace, but he paused on hearing Westbrooke mention Penny’s name. Would she be there? He studied the card intently, a million thoughts coursing through his mind. Finally, he looked up at Henry.
“When do you leave for Millcote?”
***
Shades of purple and red tinted the sky by the time the Inglewoods arrived at Falcon Hall in the carriage Lord Westbrooke had sent to fetch them. A long line of carriages already lined the extensive brightly lit driveway, so they decided to dismount and walk the short distance to the front door.
Penny bit her lip as she adjusted the neckline of her green gown, already regretting allowing Lucy to convince her to wear the dress. The neck line was cut daringly low, and the corset underneath pushed up her breasts, and she was certain they would spill if she were not careful. Fiona had styled her hair, piling the thick curls on top of her head, with strands gracefully sweeping down past her bare shoulders. She blushed as she remembered the reason she had allowed herself to be dressed thus…How shameful of her indeed.
A footman showed them to the magnificent gardens, lovingly designed in the most beautiful manner with an artificial stream flowing at one end and a huge maze in the other. The musical entertainment for the evening was stationed in a small pavilion right in the centre of the stream itself.
The minute they entered, Henry hurried up to them, taking Lucy’s hand and placing an adoring kiss upon it, before turning to welcome Penny, his eyes widening slightly at how different she looked.
“Miss Inglewood! May I say you look particularly stunning this evening? I almost did not recognize you.”
Penny blushed and opened the matching embroidered fan, wielding it energetically. “Thank you, my lord. Your garden is lovely.”
“Oh! Mother takes care of it, with the help of the garden staff, of course.” He nodded to Edward, who had stood silent, scanning the crowd of guests intently. “Good to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Inglewood. You were not present when I called to visit the other day.”
“I was engaged elsewhere, my lord,” Edward replied, executing a bow. “Thank you for inviting us.”
“It is a pleasure to have you. Come, I will show you to your seats, then, Miss Lucy, you simply must meet Mother.”
Lucy blushed and looked to Penny. Penny nodded and allowed Henry to lead Lucy away after ensuring she and Edward were seated comfortably.
“I must go and explore the maze,” Edward declared and rose hastily. “You don’t mind being on your own, do you?”
“No, it’s quite all right. Go.”
She watched him hurry away and finally, allowed her eyes to scan the garden, checking to see if he was here. A pang of disappointment ran through her when her search came up empty. Then she chastised herself soundly for her foolish hopes. He was engaged to be married. And even if he was unattached, she was hardly the type of woman to catch his attentions. More likely, that attempted kiss had been but a game to him. Indeed, she had not set eyes on him since then, and rumour had placed him back in London.
“How come such a lovely angel sits by herself?” a voice queried, and Penny’s gaze shot upward to see a smiling young man looking down at her…or rather at her breasts. She levelled him a stern look, but as his attention was focused elsewhere, he did not notice it. She cleared her throat pointedly.
His eyes shot up, and he flushed in guilt. She continued to stare daggers at him until he murmured an apology and backed off. She sighed; it was going to be a long evening. A steward approached with a glass of lemonade, and she took it, grateful to feel the cooling liquid pass down her parched throat.
A shadow fell across the table, and she looked up and gasped.
Phillip stood there staring at her incredulously.
“Miss Inglewood?” he said in surprise as though he had expected to see someone else. His eyes swept over her, taking in the startling change, lingering on her bosom, before returning to her face. He opened his mouth to say something but shut it firmly and simply bowed stiffly.
“Your Grace,” Penny replied equally stiffly, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
“May I join you?” he asked quietly.
She frowned at him. “I do not think that is a good idea, Your Grace. People might get the wrong impression,”
Just then Lucy hurried over, looking excited. She noticed the Duke and curtsied before turning to Penny once more. “Penny, you must come at once. The Dowager Countess wishes to meet you…Where’s Eddie?”
“He has gone into the maze,” she replied, rising.
To her astonishment, Philip uttered a curse and grasped her arm painfully. His now cold eyes bore down on her. “What?” she began, but he cut her off.
“An interesting coincidence. You see, as soon as she arrived, Miss Rosebury declared she would go exploring in the maze also.”
The colour drained from Penny’s face, and she gasped, shrugging out of Phillip’s grasp and hurrying towards the tall maze. Oh no, what did Edward think he was doing? He would compromise the lady if they were caught together, and that would be…
“Where do you think you are going?” Phillip questioned just as she made to enter the maze. She had not realized he had followed her.
She paused and looked at him. “I am going to fetch my brother, of course. Just as I assume you are going to find Miss Rosebury.”
She made to walk away, but he grasped her arm once more. “You do not even know how to find your way in there. You will only end up getting hopelessly lost.”
“It can’t be that difficult to navigate surely. Please let go of my arm. You are hurting me.”
He let go, but he angled his body to halt further progress. Penny glared at him impatiently, but he reached for her arm once more. “Just follow me, and don’t wander off. I do not wish to go searching for you too.”
He led her through the winding passage. There were not many people present, and she realized the only light that filtered through was the moonlight when it came out from behind a cloud. Instinctively, she moved closer to him, feeling the heat of his body as he tightened his grip on her fingers. Several times they came up to a dead end and had to retrace their
footsteps. Penny’s leg began to ache from the high slippers she was wearing and soon began limping. By this time, they had not even encountered any of the other guests.
“Damnation!” Phillip cursed as they hit yet another dead end. He ran his hand through his hair and swore viciously.
“I thought you knew where we were going?” Penny asked, blushing a little at the foul words that he uttered.
“I thought I did. Henry and I used to romp around this place as young lads. Now it appears the damn thing has been changed yet again.” Penny groaned and sank on the soft grass underneath, not caring if her gown was ruined or not. Her leg ached terribly. She slid off her shoe
and rubbed at her ankle, biting her lip at the stabbing pain. Phillip moved to crouch next to her and to her astonishment, took her sore ankle and began to rub it gently. His touch burned her deliciously until she could bear it no longer. She gasped and moved from his touch, hastening to her feet, her face heated in mortification.
He rose too and moved to stand so close. “Does my touch affect you, Miss Inglewood?” his tone was slightly mocking and yet serious at the same time. He raised his hand to brush the tips of his fingers over her parted lips, the sensation at once shocking and extremely pleasant, causing her to shut her eyes as waves of longing coursed through her.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, and his lips covered hers in a deep
kiss.