Restless Souls by Rachel Wilson

Author:Rachel Wilson [Wilson, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-61417-861-3
Publisher: ePublishing Works!

Chapter 12

The only person at the party who didn't seem to be intimidated into silence by Penny's disdainful attitude was Juliette Griffin.

As soon as Art and the footmen had taken care of Harry, Art hurried back into the crowded ballroom. He didn't so much as look to see where Juliette stood, but headed directly to Penny. Penny saw him coming and felt her world light up. She rushed to meet him, holding out her hands. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to grasp her hands in his and hold on.

"Come with me," he said without preamble and hauled her out onto a balcony screened by long curtains. The evening air was cool on her bare skin, but she only felt chilly for a moment, because Art wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

When he loosened his embrace, she looked up into his beautiful eyes for what seemed like eons. The world faded away around them. She only came down to earth again—with a thump—when she heard Juliette's voice. It sloshed over her like a bucket of ice water.

"I trust you put Miss Potter's brother someplace where he can't escape and disrupt the party again, Arthur."

Art released Penny as if she were a sackful of scalding rocks. Penny whirled around to find Juliette standing directly behind her, holding the curtain aside, and looking like a thundercloud about to burst and storm all over them. Penny's face flamed with embarrassment. As much as Penny didn't like her, Juliette had every reason to be miffed. Art should not have held Penny in that unseemly manner—no matter how right it had felt, and no matter how much Penny wished he'd do it again. To prevent herself from doing anything she'd regret, she tucked her hands behind her back and bowed her head.

Art recovered his composure almost immediately. Penny suspected he'd had lots of practice.

"Yes. Yes, I tied his hands and we locked him in a closet. He can't get out."

Penny forgot all about her embarrassment, Art's arms, and Juliette. She stared at Art, aghast. "You locked him up? In a closet? With his hands tied?"

He shrugged. "What else could we do, Penny? You don't want him getting out in the street and shooting up Piccadilly again, do you? Better a closet than a constable's collar and a jail cell."

Good heavens. Penny clapped her hands to her cheeks. Shooting up Piccadilly? Oh, Lord, that's right. Harry had done that, hadn't he?

"No. No, of course I don't."

Dr. Gruenstein—where he'd come from, Penny had no idea—patted her on the shoulder. "I think your brother will be all right in a little while, Miss Potter. I was watching him, you know, and taking notes." He patted the little notebook still clutched in his hand. Penny realized there was a pencil sticking out of his pocket, too, right next to his formally folded handkerchief. "This manifestation seemed to come upon him as the liquor in the punch began to affect him."

Penny looked at the doctor, then at Art.

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