by Wolf, Bree
Huffing out an annoyed breath, Phineas pushed off the marble column, not knowing what to do with his arms. He felt like a fool, dancing from one foot onto the other, without a purpose. And then out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of another’s gaze directed at him. For a moment, he tensed wondering if someone had taken note of his strange mannerisms. Were people already laughing about him behind his back? He certainly deserved it.
Daring to look, Phineas was surprised when he found none other than Miss Mortensen looking back at him. A small blush came to her face as their eyes collided, and she instantly dropped her gaze. Still, a moment later, he found her walking in his direction, moving ever closer despite the hint of shyness lingering in her eyes.
Willing a polite expression upon his face, Phineas greeted her kindly. “It is a most marvelous night, is it not?” He offered her no more than a simple pleasantry, for he had nothing else to say.
Miss Mortensen nodded enthusiastically. “It is almost magical; would you not agree? The music is divine, and I can think of nothing I’d rather do but dance the night away.”
Phineas understood perfectly that she wanted him to ask her onto the dance floor; nothing was further from his mind though. His gaze barely met hers as he kept his eyes fixed on Louisa. The second the dance ended and Lord Hastings hastened back to his mother—bless the old lady!—Phineas mumbled a quick apology to Miss Mortensen and then rushed after Louisa.
Unaware that he was following her, Louisa left the ballroom and proceeded onward toward what Phineas presumed to be the ladies’ powder room. She did not rush, but walked leisurely, giving him a chance to catch up.
Like a hunter, Phineas kept his gaze fixed on her, long strides carrying him closer. With each step, the hustle bustle around them receded. Voices grew dimmer, and he no longer sensed a crowd around him. On his way, he nodded to an acquaintance every now and then, barely turning his head, oddly worried that he might lose sight of her. And then she slipped around a corner and was gone.
Instantly, Phineas quickened his steps, grateful that the corridor lay deserted. He rounded the corner and found her no more than a few steps ahead of him, still walking at a leisurely pace. A roguish grin came to his face as he wondered—just for a moment—if she would have walked faster had she known he was in pursuit.
Phineas had almost reached her when he spotted the door to the ladies’ powder room beginning to open. Voices, chatting excitedly, drifted out into the corridor.
Stilling for no more than a second, Phineas acted quickly.
In two long strides, he had caught up to Louisa, seized her arm and pulled her over to the side toward a darkened alcove.
A startled gasp escaped her, her eyes going wide as he spun her around to face him. “What on—?” Her voice broke off the second her eyes fell on his face. Her features tensed, a snarl coming to her lips before she dug in her heels, resisting him as he had expected her to. “What do you want?”
Phineas glanced over her head, pulling her closer, and whispered, “Do you want them to find us together?”
Louisa stilled her struggles and quickly glanced over her shoulder at the first lady now exiting the powder room, her head turned back toward her friend, her voice ringing loudly down the corridor.
A muttered curse escaped Louisa’s lips before their roles all but became reversed for she was now the one to seize his arm and pull him into the darkened alcove.
Phineas chuckled under his breath as they squeezed into the small space, stood pressed to the wall face to face, praying not to be discovered as the two ladies slowly made their way down the corridor and back toward the ballroom. Their chattering voices nicely masked the muttered curses Louisa could not seem to suppress. “Do you mind?” she hissed under her breath, looking up at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re standing too close.”
“Am I?” Phineas whispered, feeling her shiver as his breath fanned over the delicate skin on her neck. His hands settled on her waist, and he moved even closer, pressing her against the wall.
“Yes!” she hissed next to his ear, her palms flattening on his chest, trying to urge him backwards. Then she lifted her chin and gazed over his shoulder. “They’re gone,” she whispered, relief loud and clear in her voice. “Move!”
Remaining where he was, Phineas chuckled. “They might come back,” he teased. “Or others might happen by.”
Louisa huffed out an annoyed breath, then her hands tensed upon his chest and she shoved against him. When half an arm’s length separated them, her chin rose and she met his eyes, her own shooting daggers. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded, open accusation in her dark green eyes.
Phineas chuckled, reaching out to toy with one of her blonde curls. “Oh, dearest Lulu, there are countless reasons.”
Gritting her teeth, she slapped his hand away, then made to step past him. “I detest you.”
Caught up in this delightful amusement, Phineas was most unwilling to allow her to rush off so soon. Once more, he caught her around the waist and pulled her back, stepping in her path. “Tell me why,” he said, surprising even himself.
With her lips in a snarl, she glared up at him. “Tell you what? Why you are the most annoying man to ever walk this earth? Why—?”
“Why you detest me,” Phineas interrupted, the need to know suddenly boiling in his veins. With his gaze locked on hers, he once more urged her backwards until her back was against the wall. “I will not let you leave, unless you tell me.”
For a moment, all thoughts seemed to flee her head. She was staring up at him with wide open eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly, whispering of the turmoil in her heart. If only he knew what it was!
“Let me go,” Louisa demanded, anger swinging in her voice, mixing with a hint of panic. “Now!”
Slowly, Phineas shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. He breathed in deeply, savoring that unique scent of her: sunshine and honeysuckle.
Her jaw clenched. “I’ll scream,” she threatened in a feeble voice.
Phineas chuckled, then moved, his head lowering toward hers. “Do so,” he whispered. “I dare you.”
Glaring up at him, she breathed in deeply, once, twice. “You’re bluffing,” she muttered, a touch of uncertainty in her voice. “Your reputation, too, would suffer if we were found together like this. You cannot want this anymore than I do.”
Slowly sliding his hands further onto the small of her back, Phineas felt her shiver. “Dear Lulu,” he whispered, the words falling onto her lips, “you have no idea what it is I want.” He held her gaze a moment longer before he let it briefly drop to her mouth.
Louisa inhaled a sharp breath. “I’ll scream,” she threatened yet again, the pulse in her neck hammering wildly.
A slow grin spread over Phineas’ face. “Go ahead,” he replied, wondering if she meant what she said. “I assure you I have ways of silencing you.”
Clearly understanding the innuendo behind his words—for now her own gaze darted lower if only for a split second—she tensed, her hands upon his chest trying to hold him at bay…a feeble attempt at best. “You wouldn’t.”
“You know me better than that, Lulu,” he teased, pushing closer still. “Answer me, and I shall release you. Fail to answer, and…” His voice trailed off, his brows quirking upward, making it unmistakably clear what he intended.
Her lips thinned. “Why do you even care? You—”
“I do,” he assured her, his head lowering another inch toward hers.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I can see that,” Phineas replied, close enough now that he could feel her breath mingling with his own. Yet, she did not pull away nor try to stop his approach.
“I detest you,” she whispered breathlessly as though to remind herself of what she ought to feel.
“Why?” Phineas pressed, one hand abandoning its place upon her waist and reaching upward. Gently, he grasped her chin simply because he liked to hold on to her, to feel her skin against his own
.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” she whispered, her breath quickening with each heartbeat. Her dark green eyes stared up into his, not even a hint of fear in them.
“I don’t.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Tell me,” he urged, and his lips brushed against hers ever so softly. He felt it like a clap of thunder. A jolt shot through him, and a deep yearning settled in his bones.
“Nev—”
Before Louisa could finish that one word, Phineas dipped his head, closing the last small distance between them. His lips claimed hers, and all restraint fell from him.
From them both, as it seemed, for Louisa’s fingers suddenly curled into his lapels, pulling him closer. Her mouth opened beneath his, and she responded to his kiss as passionately as he had always hoped was her nature.
Her hands snaked upward, and he felt the tips of her fingers brushing against his skin. They moved farther up, along his neck before disappearing in his hair, tugging him ever closer.
Phineas’ heart soared at her willing response, his longing for her intensifying with each stroke of her tongue against his, each tentative, and yet, utterly bold touch. She was breathtaking in the truest sense of the word, and he could not imagine ever wanting to kiss another.
And then she suddenly stilled, her body growing rigid. Her hands fell from his hair and returned to his chest, her palms flattened against him. She did not shove him this time, but he could feel her resistance grow until she finally wrenched her lips from his. Panting, she stared up at him. “Release me. Now.”
Reluctantly, Phineas did as she had asked. He took a small step backwards, careful not to allow the distance between them to grow too much. “Will you still deny the passion between us?” he demanded, offering her a meaningful grin, delighting in the way she glared at him. Why did he? A part of him wondered. Why could he not simply tell her how she made him feel?
Her lips thinned, and her eyes grew hard as she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “Do not for a second believe that you know me,” she hissed, her shoulders trembling—with passion or anger, he did not know. “You know nothing about me.” She took a step sideways, away from him, closer to the corridor and her way out. “Do not ever come near me again, do you hear?”
The moment she made to turn and hurry away, Phineas grabbed her arm. He pulled her back against him, his head lowered to hers. “Then tell me what I wish to know,” he told her, his gaze searching hers, wondering for the thousandth time what he could have done. “It is your choice. A few simple words, and you shall be rid of me.” Of course, Phineas did not mean to uphold his end of the bargain. Never would he stay away. He could not. The mere thought was absurd, ridiculous. He needed her; as shocking as that was, he needed her.
Instead of lashing out at him, instead of calling him every insulting name she had used before on numerous occasions, Louisa remained silent, not a word leaving her lips. Her green eyes were fixed upon his, contemplating, and a touch of defeat, of exhaustion sparked in their depths. Still, she would not give in. A part of her clearly wanted to, though, was as tired as he was of this animosity between them.
“Why can you not simply tell me?” Phineas whispered gently. “What did I do that you cannot forgive?”
Her jaw hardened then, and he was certain that she would yell at him now, perhaps even slap him.
But she did not.
A shadow seemed to fall over her face, something dark and sad and anguished. She looked vulnerable suddenly, and Phineas felt the unexpected urge to comfort her, to shield her from the ugliness of the world. Before he could, Louisa took a step back, her lips still pressed into a tight line, unrelenting. “Stay away,” she demanded once again before turning on her heel and slipping out of the alcove, leaving him behind with more questions than before.
Chapter Thirteen
Unwanted Suitors
The sun shone brightly, and laughter echoed to Louisa’s ears as her younger sisters and their friend Sarah chased Sir Lancelot through the gardens. Somehow the rabbit had gotten away again as it had on numerous occasions. How he always managed to do so was beyond Louisa. Usually her younger sister Harriet had an almost magical touch when it came to animals. Sir Lancelot, however, proved immune to her powers.
“Where is he?” Harry called; her eyes squinted against the sun as she peered under a rosebush. “He was here a minute ago.”
“He could not have gotten far,” Chris remarked, her golden curls shining brightly in the afternoon sun, a stark contrast to Harry’s fiery red tresses. “At least, he cannot slip out of the gardens.” She sighed, clearly annoyed that her sister’s errant pet had gotten loose again.
Seated on an old oak bench, Louisa laughed, shaking her head at her youngest sister. “Why would you assume that?” she asked, glancing at Sarah seated beside her. Their former neighbor had given up on chasing Sir Lancelot only a few minutes ago, now catching her breath and watching with amusement as he continued to slip through her friends’ fingers. “If we managed to squeeze ourselves through the gap in the hedge and sneak over to our neighbors,” she grinned at Sarah, noting a hint of sadness coming to the young girl’s face, “then surely Sir Lancelot will have no problem. Would you not agree?”
Sarah nodded. “Quite frankly,” she whispered for only Louisa to hear, “more than one of Harry’s pets has found its way into our garden over the years. My mother was less than amused; still, it always made me feel like one of you.” She heaved a deep sigh and gazed toward the hedge, no doubt thinking of the house beyond she had once called home. “Do you know who lives there now?”
Louisa gently patted her hand. “That I cannot say. All I know is that a gentleman has purchased it. Who he is remains unclear as he has yet to arrive. Only workers have been coming and going these past few weeks.”
Sarah heaved another deep sigh, “I wonder what changes he is having made. I wonder if any part of our old home will remain.”
In that moment, Harry tripped over Sir Lancelot when he suddenly changed direction and was now dashing back in the opposite direction. As Harry landed face-first in the grass, Chris barely managed to pull up short before stepping onto her sister. “Are you all right?” she asked panting, holding out a hand to help Harriet back onto her feet.
Dauntless as ever, Harriet ignored her sister and was up and once more running after Sir Lancelot in a matter of seconds, her gown stained green and dirt under her fingernails. “Come here, Sir Lancelot! Come here to Mama!” She called sweetly, the softness of her voice in stark contrast to the wild nature Louisa knew her to possess.
“May I ask you a question?” Sarah spoke out beside Louisa, once more drawing her attention away from the chase through the gardens.
“Of course.”
A small smile flitted across Sarah’s face. For another long moment, she remained silent, her mouth opening and closing once or twice before she had sorted her thoughts. “What do you look for in a suitor? My mother urges me to look for a suitable match; however, that is not something the heart notices, is it?”
Louisa sighed, determinedly pushing away all thoughts of Phineas Hawke. Why they had returned to him of all people and in this moment no less was beyond her. “I suppose that depends on what your mother means by suitable. Knowing your mother,” Louisa stated with a confirming look at Sarah’s face, “I assume she speaks of title and fortune.”
With her head slightly bowed, Sarah nodded. “Of course, I understand her reasoning, especially given our reduced circumstances.” She swallowed hard, and a tinge of red came to her cheeks. “I do not wish to disappoint her, but I have noticed that my heart is urging me down a different path. I cannot see myself marrying any of the gentlemen she has thus far pointed out to me. Is that wrong?”
Louisa hesitated, knowing that Sarah’s parents were not like her own. They had other expectations when it came to whom their youngest daughter was to marry. “I do not believe it to be wrong,” Louisa told her sister’s dearest fr
iend. “I myself wish for a gentleman who will sweep me off my feet,” she admitted smiling, once again determinedly pushing all thoughts of Phineas Hawke away. “I do believe all young women dream of a great love, just as most mothers feel the need to ensure their daughters’ future in a more reasonable manner. It is the way of the world.” She looked at Sarah for a moment, then said, “There is a gentleman who has caught your attention, is there not?”
Sarah blushed profusely. “Is it that obvious?”
Louisa chuckled, “I’m afraid so. Has he shown an interest in you?”
Sarah heaved another deep sigh. “I’m afraid he barely knows I exist,” she answered, deep regret darkening her lovely features. “I have spoken to him once or twice, and he’s always kind to me, but…”
“Give it time,” Louisa counseled carefully, getting the feeling that Sarah was not yet ready to reveal who that gentleman was. “Don’t appear too eager. Try to catch his attention, but then wait until he comes to you. Some gentlemen do like a bit of a chase.” The last sentence tumbled from her lips without thought, and Louisa could not help but wonder where it had come from. Yet, the moment she did wonder, she knew it to be a mistake for it conjured an image of none other than Phineas Hawke.
Curse that man!
Bidding Sarah farewell, Louisa rose from the bench and headed back toward the house. It seemed the more they spoke of suitors, the more a certain someone lingered in her thoughts. Even if she could not prevent him from seeking her out, she could—and should—do her utmost to banish him from her thoughts.
Still, this was easier said than done, for after their last encounter it seemed she could think of little else. It had been shocking, to say the least; not only his behavior, the way he had seized her, but also the way she had responded to him. Like before, at Anne’s wedding, she had found herself helpless, unable to resist. What was it that made him so irresistible to her? Was it the wickedness in his eyes? Or the dazzling smile upon his lips?