The Midnight Rake by Anabelle Bryant

Author:Anabelle Bryant [Bryant, Anabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin (UK) Ltd
Published: 2015-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“Phineas, you don’t appear the least bit hungry. Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas? Is something wrong? You need to eat.”

It would be impossible to convince his mother he wasn’t hungry. He was always hungry, so he skewered a thick piece of ham on his plate in an attempt to take interest in the fare, while his mind spun with images of what he’d like to do with the delectable temptation seated across the table. Chef Pierre would never be able to replicate such a mouth-watering delicacy. He’d best tuck the thoughts away, as there would be no opportunity to steal a private moment with Penelope this morning, or anytime else.

Since their chance meeting in the garden two nights past, they’d schooled their emotions and acknowledged their relationship as one of friendship, nothing more. At least they both resolved to give that appearance.

He glanced to her now, looking utterly charming in cheerful conversation with her sister.

This morning she wore a simple yellow day gown with light green embroidery circling the white lace collar. Her hair hung in silky waves around her shoulders, except where she’d captured a sweep behind one dainty ear. A single tendril had escaped her attention and hooked mischievously below the line of her bodice. He rubbed his palms together, his fingers twitching to free the renegade lock.

Maman cleared her throat.

With reluctance, he formed some sort of answer. “I’m distracted, nothing more.” He took a hearty bite of bread and chewed with feigned enthusiasm. “I have a lot on my mind as of late.” Naughty daydreams and even more scandalous night dreams…yes. Hotly erotic remembrances of kissing Penelope occupied his mind with zeal.

“Dorothy is expected for tea this afternoon. Aubry has lessons.” Victoria Betcham paused as a servant cleared her plate and replaced the service. “I’d like if you and Penelope joined us.”

He glanced to Penny, a ready smile on his lips. He would enjoy nothing more than to share an afternoon outing with her, but he was not sure it was possible. His eyes dropped lower, distracted with the single tantalizing curl, the exact shade of brown sugar, trapped against her skin. It must tickle, at least one would think. Didn’t she feel the sensation? He did.

A fluttering of feathers announced Mon Ami’s bid for attention. “Find a wife. Settle down.”

The parrot chimed in with such accuracy, he wondered if the daft bird communicated with his mother through telepathic means. He loosened the stranglehold of his neckcloth and noticed Penelope and Aubry engrossed in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Maman, who is teaching Mon Ami these ridiculous phrases?” He speared another piece of ham with conviction. “Every time I am forced to share his company, I hear a litany of senseless dribble.” He again considered the possibility his mother had sunk to a new, lower level and entreated the bird in her efforts to see him wed. He could not discard the idea as inconceivable.

Aubry responded before his mother could reply.

“I’ve read a passage about parrots during my studies. Mon Ami is repeating phrases he has heard spoken out of context.

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