Potent Charms

by Peggy Waide

  "It's glorious." Phoebe nibbled her lower lip and cast a quick glance over her shoulder to watch Sir Lemmer as he conversed sociably with a small group of people. "I must confess, I didn't expect to see him here."

  "Neither did I.Although I don't find the man overly charming, he does have access to the better parlors of London. Since he arrived in the company of my step-uncle we couldn't very well ask him to leave. If he becomes bothersome, simply pretend he doesn't exist."

  "Easier for you than me. You're married. I'm the bait waiting mercilessly for the fish and I think Hildegard would gladly hold the line for him as well."

  Elizabeth patted Phoebe's arm. "Oh Lud. Winston and I shall monopolize your time. If you find yourself trapped, gamer my attention and I shall save you."

  One question remained unanswered, actually the most important in Phoebe's mind. Scanning the room once more to make sure the scoundrel wasn't lurking in a dark corner somewhere, she said, "I don't see Stephen."

  "There is no need to feign indifference with me, Phoebe Rafferty, but not to worry. Stephen will be here. In fact, his room is next to yours."

  Wicked images popped into Phoebe's head, suddenly and vividly, thoughts that heated her skin and parched her throat. She really needed to gain control of these unwanted impulses. Afraid her face revealed her thoughts, she shuffled her feet while she stared at her soft pink slippers. "Elizabeth, you're shameful."

  Clasping Phoebe's hand in hers, Elizabeth said, "No. Hopeful. My role as matchmaker began weeks ago. I'd like nothing more for Stephen to marry you however, I have no intention of allowing the man full liberties." She whispered behind her fan. "Being married, I know about these things." She cleared her throat. "Having said all that, I am not above manipulation, enticement and pure, unadulterated temptation. I leave the rest in your capable hands. Imagine you and Stephen so near each other for three days. It will drive him insane. Lord Tewksbury will be here part of the time as well. I can't wait to witness Stephen's reaction to that surprise. Until then, let me introduce you to my friends."

  True to her promise, Elizabeth entertained Phoebe while easily performing her duties as hostess. Before and during dinner, Phoebe never had a free moment; neither Sir Lemmer nor Hildegard had a chance to speak to her.

  The evening progressed fairly well until she found herself cornered by Lord Milsip, who warned her to mind herself this weekend. After all, her name had been linked with Lord Badrick in The Times. Shortly after that, Lord Renoke trapped her in a game of cards during which he, too, expressed his odious thoughts about Stephen.

  She tried to remain silent, she truly did; however, honesty won out. Neither man appreciated her opinion. Finally free of both men, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Hildegard and Sir Lemmer together once again, their heads bowed together in a most disconcerting manner. Stephen had yet to appear and unfortunately, it was far too early to escape to her room. Phoebe dropped her forehead into her hands and massaged her temples.

  "As bad as all that?"

  Phoebe smiled at Winston, who stood before her with a glass in his hands. She eagerly accepted the drink. "I fear I have insulted Lord Renoke and Lord Milsip."

  He chuckled. "Do not fret. They thrive on controversy and gossip. Few people whose opinions truly matter pay them any mind. Needing their support for a bill in parliament, I tolerate their company. It's all quite bothersome sometimes and must seem rather shallow, but alas, it's the way of things. Who was their target tonight?"

  "Who else? Stephen." Her temper resurfaced in full. She wanted to stomp her feet and shout. "The things they said were atrocious. If I didn't think they believed what they said, I'd laugh myself silly."

  Tucking his tongue in his cheek, he appeared to fight the urge to laugh. "So you became Stephen's champion?"

  "It seems he needed one."

  "He might not appreciate your intervention. I, on the other hand, applaud you. He deserves a woman with your strength and kindness. As his friend of many years, I ask you not to abandon him just yet."

  "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I could even if I wanted too." She paused, sorrowful. "In my heart, I know he's capable of love and wants to be happy."

  "A habit of self-preservation, I fear. Trust me when I say some of his actions are justified others are caused by years of expectation. One day, hopefully soon, he will recognize his good fortune and accept what you so generously wish to offer. I pray you shall give Stephen a good deal to think about over these last few weeks." He grasped her elbow and led her toward a group of people seated in chairs beside the fireplace. "Come join us for charades, after which you can play cards, billiards, or, if you like, retire early."

  She settled beside Winston as Lord Renoke stood before the group, executing a ghastly impression of what Phoebe thought might be the Prince Regent riding a horse. Winston whispered a suggestion in her ear, eliciting a burst of laughter. The gathered players blurted their assumptions, one lucky soul guessing Napoleon at some battle or other. Several people took a turn, Phoebe included, while others simply watched. As Lady Ashby assumed the floor, prepared to take a turn, Winston moved to stand beside Elizabeth. Lemmer quickly snatched the empty seat, prompting Phoebe to inch further to the edge of the settee.

  Leaning close enough so that his breath, which smelled of onion and a touch of mint, fanned her cheek, Lemmer said, "You have neglected your duties this eve, Miss Rafferty, and ignored me, yet you bat your lovely lashes at others. You are quite naughty."

  "I can do whatever I like."

  "Once my ring sits on your finger, you will behave quite differently."

  Phoebe jerked to one side, checked her reaction and simply straightened her spine. Maybe if she ignored the man he'd simply leave her be. She focused on Lady Ashby, who slid back and forth across the floor with her head tilted majestically.

  Lemmer applauded Lady Ashby's efforts, as did several other people. He chuckled with some sort of perverse satisfaction and whispered for Phoebe's ears only. "A silly game, charades. Grown men and women behaving like utter fools. What is becoming of our society?"

  She hated his conceit, his high-and-mighty attitude. "The game is harmless and fun."

  "I admit, you did quite well with Pride and Prejudice"

  She tried to concentrate on Lady Ashby, who now pretended to kneel on the floor, her head cocked oddly. Unfortunately, Lemmer's presence proved an unnerving distraction. Phoebe's mind was a blank.

  "As a matter of fact, I believe pride is something of which you have an abundance. I look forward to eradicating that flaw."

  She was full up with his possessive remarks. This man would not ruin her evening. "No matter what you think, you shall never have such an opportunity." Hesitant to stand too abruptly and cause any sort of scene, she rejoiced when someone shouted the correct answer to Ashby's pantomime. Applause and laughter erupted. Thankfully, the game was over.

  Winston stood, clapping his hands together. Slowly, the room quieted. "My friends, a light repast shall be served shortly in the salon. Best remember we have a fox to hunt tomorrow bright and early. Until then, there are cards or billiards, and if some of you wish to retire, Lady Payley and myself bid you good night."

  Phoebe stood. Lemmer stepped boldly in her path. He nodded politely toward a passing couple as they left the room, then spoke sweetly to Phoebe. "Retiring so quickly?"

  "Actually, Lord Eaton invited me to play cards."

  "You cannot avoid me forever, my dear."

  A small group, which included Elizabeth and Winston, circled toward the door. Winston halted beside Phoebe. "Is there a problem?"

  "Not at all," cooed Lemmer, backing a more discreet distance from Phoebe, his smile one of false humor. "I was simply telling Miss Rafferty I intend to show her my appreciation by bringing her the fox tail tomorrow."

  A few gentlemen chuckled at the bold statement, adding their opinions on the matter. Soon the conversation gathered the attention of others in the room and much to Phoebe's annoyance, wagers were pl
aced with her affection as the prize. She looked desperately to Elizabeth for help.

  Clearing her throat, Elizabeth said, "Excuse me, but I believe Miss Rafferty should have a say in all this."

  Hildegard, wearing her ever-familiar pinched expression, chose that particular moment to interject. "I find the idea satisfactory enough. After all, my niece is looking for a husband. This is somewhat like a jousting tournament. Men have always found a means to display their esteem for a particular young lady. This is no different."

  No different? Phoebe had no desire to be anyone's prize, leastways not Sir Lemmer's-and certainly not at the expense of some poor fox. She found herself wondering if this was a scheme Lemmer and Hildegard had orchestrated with their heads tucked together earlier in the evening. If so, to what end?

  Well, try as they may, they'd see how difficult it was to manipulate her. "Begging your all's pardon. But there are other lovely ladies in attendance as well. Shouldn't they be included?"

  Elizabeth placed her hand on Winston's arm as if to remind the audience that she possessed his full support in whatever she chose to say. "A splendid idea. I do suggest caution. Society often has large ears and long memories." She fixed a pointed look on Lemmer. "I'd hate to think a harmless wager might endanger someone's reputation."

  Lemmer shook his head in agreement. "Of course not."

  "In that case," Elizabeth explained, "the gentleman who reaches the fox first shall have the opportunity to select the young lady of his choice as a dinner companion, with a maximum of two dances at the ball."

  "And what if a lady happens to win?" asked an older matron.

  Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Phoebe, then grinned. "Then I suppose she would have her choice of companions."

  Laughter accompanied by a few ribald comments were volleyed back and forth across the room. One man promised to choose his wife, which sparked another bout of jokes. One older wife announced that if she won, she intended to choose a younger, more vigorous dancing partner. The men howled. The women giggled. The overall idea obviously appealed to everyone. Everyone except Phoebe.

  Winston nodded in approval as others in the room expressed theirs. "It seems our hunt tomorrow has a purpose. May the fox be fleet of feet, but not too much so. Coming, Phoebe?"

  "In a moment. I wish to have a word with Sir Lemmer first." She had every intention of wiping the smug expression from his face. She waited for the crowd to disperse, then lifted a brow, taunting him just the way Dee had taught her. "I don't understand your game, but don't underestimate my ability to play as well. I'll rejoice at your loss tomorrow."

  "But I intend to win, after which you will find it impossible to ignore me and Lord Badrick shall not be able to interfere. Heed my words, Miss Rafferty. I said this before and repetition is ever so boring, but Lord Badrick will not have you."

  "I would never presume to speak for Lord Badrick. Only he knows his mind. I, however, know I shall never marry a pompous, self-indulgent little rodent like yourself. Good night."

  "Of all the miserable, low-down marsh rats." Phoebe yanked the pins from her hair and massaged her scalp. "He'll rue the day. Yes, indeed." She hurled one shoe toward the balcony door.

  "For the love of Mary, watch out," muttered Stephen as he limped from the shadow, rubbing his shin. "Had I known the extent of your temper, I would have made my appearance downstairs."

  "Stephen? Are you all right?" She stopped in her tracks, narrowing her eyes and placing her hands on her hips. "What are you doing in my room?"

  Sweet mercy, she looked magnificent in her fury. He briefly wondered about the apparent anger, but found his thoughts quickly drawn to the creamy skin of her bosom. Having loosened her curls, Phoebe's hair cascaded about her face in a fiery waterfall. Having purposely avoided her for the past several days, he had arrived later than planned with no desire to daily with his peers. He'd come directly to his room. Shortly thereafter, he'd found himself in hers. Waiting.

  Considering the lustful thoughts swarming in his mind, he decided he would have been wiser to wait until morning. He tossed the balance of his brandy down his throat. "I came to see how you fared and to say good night."

  "Good night."

  "I'm truly sorry to be so late."

  "Lands alive. I'm not the least bit concerned that you chose to arrive eight hours after the party began, although you might have saved me from antagonizing a couple of rude old men. And maybe, just maybe, I could have escaped a game of cards with Lord Eaton, who happens to find my accent a trifle annoying, though he is willing to overlook it for my sake and marry me all the same. And, had you been here, Sir Lemmer might not have goaded me into riding that infernal fox hunt tomorrow."

  "Lemmer is here?"

  "He came with Lord Wyman. And he remains as con ceited as always. That man plays a game of sorts and I have the uncomfortable sensation he makes his own rules. I don't know what he plans, but I refuse to be tested."

  Heaven help him, but he needed to hold her, to taste her. His hands itched to touch her. If he hoped to sleep at all tonight, touching her was definitely out of the question. He moved to her side. Pulling her against his chest, he felt her relax instantly, invoking a surge of pure male satisfaction. It felt wonderful to hold her in his arms, enough so that he almost forgot his good intentions and that Lemmer was at Payley Park. "Tell me exactly what happened."

  She remained within the cocoon of his arms and explained the wager in great and animated detail. When all was said and done, Lemmer's game and its final outcome remained a mystery. Whatever he planned, it certainly wasn't above board. "All will be well. Wait and see." He bent his head to press a tender kiss to her forehead. "I've missed you."

  She pushed away and crossed to the wardrobe. "Tell me about a foxhunt."

  Dumbfounded, he balanced the emotions that warred with his body. By George, he'd been experiencing a tender moment and she concerned herself with foxhunts? "Excuse me?"

  "Tell me about a foxhunt."

  He recognized the fire in her green eyes, the way she pursed her lips and nibbled her thumb as she methodically considered something he knew she shouldn't, something that would likely keep him awake all night. Her devious mind was hard at work. "What are you planning?"

  "Nothing." She practically skipped to a chair and sat like a pupil waiting her next lesson. "I wish to know what to expect tomorrow."

  Balderdash. He would have to watch her closely. He occupied the chair opposite her. "Very early this morning, the game boy shall find the foxholes and cover them to prevent the animal from returning to his den. Hence the fox shall be forced to seek cover above ground. After breakfast, the field will assemble and"

  "The field?"

  "The riders, all of us grand and noble folk, along with a dozen or so yapping hounds and Winston's huntsman, the man in charge of the animals. We shall all depart from the stable yard at what's deemed an appropriate hour and give chase until the dogs roust a fox in a thicket or bramble bush. Then off we go, riding like lunatics over hill and dale. Everyone tries their best to remain seated in their saddle until the hounds trap the fox and subsequently kill him. The first man to arrive is awarded with the tail or paw as a trophy."

  Judging from the frown on her face, Phoebe possessed no appreciation for the longtime tradition. A shudder racked her shoulders. "That poor animal. The sport sounds barbaric and not the least bit fair."

  "Nevertheless, it is a time-honored tradition. Normally we avoid hunts in the spring, but the local farmers have been losing chickens."

  "What if the fox escapes?"

  "T'would be highly unlikely, but everyone would return, sip their tea and discuss all the reasons they turned up trump.

  "And no one wins the wager." Beaming, she marched to the door that led to the balcony. "Thank you, Stephen. You had best go now. Tomorrow's events sound quite exhausting."

  The blasted female had dismissed him, actually requested he leave and he had waited for her until midnight. By golly, he'd have the last
word before he left her to her own devices. With very deliberate footsteps, Stephen cornered her and, using his entire body, pressed her against the cloth-covered wall. Her eyes locked with his. She swallowed, then cleared her throat.

  His every nerve ending trembled with a heightened awareness, yet he made no move to kiss her. When he felt her pulses pound like a drum throughout her entire body, then and only then did he let his mouth descend. He captured her lower lip between his teeth and suckled gently. Swallowing her gasp and then her sigh, he possessed her mouth completely, endlessly.

  A gentle knocking at the door snapped him back to reality. Lifting his lips from hers, he kept his hand on her chin, studying the dazed look in her eyes and feeling a deep masculine pride." 'Tis likely the maid. I will go now, but I shan't sleep a wink for fear of what you contemplate. I'm warning you. No nonsense tomorrow. Let Winston and me worry about Lemmer."

  Other than his uncomfortable state of arousal, he felt quite pleased with himself. If she trembled like this after a simple kiss, imagine how she would react after he introduced her to lovemaking.

  "Once the fox is spotted, stay to the back of the field. The ride turns wild rather quickly. I shall keep my eye on Lemmer. Remember what I said last night. No nonsense."

  Yawning behind her hand, Phoebe spared Stephen a glance. Goodness, he was agitated this morning. She hadn't slept all that well either, but she didn't blame him for her lack of rest, even though if she had, she would have felt justified. His kiss had left her yearning for his company long into the morning hours. Admittedly, her preoccupation with the hunt had also prompted her to wake earlier than normal. She intended to show Lemmer that she was not easily intimidated. Or manipulated. She yawned a second time. "I heard you the first time, sir."

  He slapped his gloves against his hand, likely aggravated over her lack of argument, before he stomped away to gather his own horse. She turned her attention to the stable yard. It certainly took a lot of people to orchestrate a fox hunt.