Miss Fortune’s First Kiss

by Anders, Annabelle

  Tilde’s eyes burned and she blinked away the stinging sensation. Saying goodbye had been harder than she could have imagined.

  Eloise had cried but Thea had remained silent, clutching Peaches to her tightly.

  Peaches has stared at her as though she was betraying them all.

  And then worst of all, “Peaches, you won’t leave me too, will you?” Thea had spoken into Peaches’ neck. A shudder running through the girl’s tiny body.

  Tilde had done the right thing. Perhaps Peaches was the only reason he’d hired her. Tilde’s small dog and Thea had bonded from the very beginning.

  Tilde swallowed a sob that threatened to escape.

  She’d known all along that their attraction to one another could amount to nothing and yet—fool that she was—she’d hope for more. She’d wanted to believe in magic.

  She’d believed the love behind his gaze when he’d held her, when he’d kissed her.

  When he’d buried himself inside of her.

  Yesterday afternoon, Tilde had been happy. She’d seen real progress with both the girls. She’d had what she considered a mutually respectful relationship with her employer, a man she’d considered something of a friend. She’d had fulfilling employment.

  She’d woken each day with the knowledge that she would see him. That she could watch him with his daughters and know that all of this mattered.

  Yet today.

  After one gloriously passionate night—everything had been torn away.

  She would not grieve over the loss of her dog. Peaches would be loved and spoiled. Lady Althea and Eloise would have a loyal companion by their side.

  He would not take that away from them.

  Another sob rose in her chest.

  Magic was not to be trusted. It was a cheap illusion. Madam Zeta’s words echoed in her head. Your First Kiss holds the answer to all that you desire.

  This time, instead of laughing out loud, silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

  * * *

  Once away from the townhouse Jasper’s thoughts cleared somewhat. He’d known of his mother’s manipulations for years—he’d just not realized the extent of them.

  He had been unwilling to consider how far she was willing to go. In his naivete he had believed his mother had visited Estelle to offer feminine support and comfort in the absence of his wife’s own mother.

  Quite the opposite. She’d been building Estelle’s doubts even higher. Damn his eyes! He’d never questioned any of it. He ought to have seen his mother for what she was. He now recalled that when the terminal nature of Estelle’s health had become apparent, she had departed Warwick Place and returned to London. She had abandoned them, rather than remain to offer comfort to a dying woman, to her granddaughters, to her son. And now he remembered receiving letters from her, hinting of women who, he now realized, she’d wanted him to consider as replacements for Estelle.

  While his wife lay in bed waiting to die.

  He’d been a clueless ass.

  A sick disappointment replaced his anger as he strode unseeing through the streets of Mayfair. Had his mother always been this way? His father had been a mild–mannered gentleman. Upon examining his memories from a different perspective, he wondered if she hadn’t taken advantage of his nature.

  This morning Jasper had banished his own mother from London.

  Was that really what he wanted?

  He’d made love to Tilde the night before. He loved her.

  She was the one. He had no doubt. What Jasper really wished for was to return to his country estate with his family. There, unencumbered by societal expectations of the ton, he could take Tilde as his wife. The girls would have a mother. He smiled for the first time since storming away from his house. His girls would have a pet.

  He…

  He would finally have his magic.

  Tilde.

  He did not wish to have his mother living nearby, in the dower property there.

  Upon glancing up and realizing he’d made his way to Bond Street, he decided he’d meet with his solicitor. Stuart and Lords, the firm who’d handled his grandfather’s affairs, his father’s and now his own, housed offices just a few blocks down. He would meet with one of the solicitors and charge the man with finding a suitable residence in Mayfair for his mother. That way she would be no threat to Tilde. He’d not done well by Estelle. Although he could never change the past, that would be his burden to carry for a lifetime.

  But—he vowed to himself–– he would protect Tilde and his daughters with his own life if necessary. He’d not allow his mother to poison their opportunity for happiness. Because that was something he wanted. Happiness, contentment. A life filled with love and laughter for all of them. And yes, there would be pain. There was always pain, which made it all the more imperative they embraced joy when it was in their midst.

  He’d experienced joy last night. A piercing, all-encompassing joy that only comes with love.

  Warmth filled his heart. She’d given herself to him so freely, with so much trust.

  He should have believed the magic all those years ago. She had been the one for him then, she was the one for him now. But then he would not have the little lights of his life, Althea and Eloise. And he had loved Estelle. For a time.

  But the time had come for him to guide his own future.

  Damn all of society. Even if Tilde hadn’t any claim to gentility, he’d still make her his wife.

  The solicitors’ sign beckoned. Just as he approached it an unusual sight drew his attention. A vaguely familiar figure of a woman was tying a mule to a hitch outside of the solicitor’s office. It could not be! She was hunched over, wearing colorful silks and scarves, oddly reminiscent of––

  “Madam Zeta.” She was, indeed, the same woman who’d predicted his future less than one month ago. What had she told him? That he’d lost a fortune in his past… something about that fortune being his future.

  He shook his head in denial. Was Matilda Fortune that fortune? The woman looked up just then and pinned her gaze on him. Yes, it was most definitely the same woman, with her dark skin and unnervingly light bluish grey eyes.

  “Madam Zeta.” He reached out to secure the tether for her and then flicked a coin in the direction of one of the young boys hanging about waiting for just such an opportunity. The woman seemed utterly out of place, with her mule, her colorful clothing and her dark skin.

  But a determined glint burned behind those eyes.

  “My Lord,” she nodded respectfully. Did she remember him? But upon studying him intently, she twisted her mouth into a grimace. “You are close to reclaiming your fortune.” She announced.

  Was it possible? His smile froze on his lips. Even if it was not, he would humor the worn-out looking woman. Something he didn’t quite understand compelled him to ask, “May I be of service to you?”

  She flicked her gaze toward the solicitor’s sign. “You are kind for asking. But no. Thank you.” She reached out to him. “Give. Hand. Now.” The same as she had before.

  He didn’t hesitate this time, curious as to what the woman had to say today.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He waited patiently, ignoring the few odd stares they attracted.

  When she opened her eyes, she blinked, as though coming out of a trance. “You stand to lose a great deal if you do not protect those whose hearts belong to you.” And then she squeezed his hand in what felt like a warning. “We all have our paths and they are never clear. Do not dwell on regret, or unforgiveness. Happiness is within your reach.” And then she dropped his hand, turned her back upon him and entered the stately office building.

  Her predictions or fortunes or whatever he decided to think of them as unsettled him. She made sense in a way that perhaps could apply to nearly anybody. And yet, just now, he’d realized he needed to protect the girls and Tilde from his mother.

  He’d ordered his mother to take her leave.

  And then he’d walked away, leaving his mother a
lone in the house with––

  He lifted his hand and hailed a hackney before he dared complete the terrifying thought. Happiness was within his reach. He would not take any chances this time. No, he was going to damned well take hold of it with both hands.

  When Jasper burst into the nursery and saw Peaches curled up on Althea’s lap, his first thought was relief. But when his gaze took in his daughters’ tear–stained faces, a cold dread squeezed his heart.

  Eloise rushed forward with a cry and threw her arms around his legs. “She left. Miss Fortune left!” Lifting his daughter into his arms, he steadied himself so as not to alarm her further. She was panicked –– trembling. This had to be the work of his mother.

  “Hush, sweetheart. I’ll bring her back.” He carried her across the room and dropped onto the chair across from where Althea sat. “Surely, if she did not intend to return, she would not have left Peaches, now would she have?”

  But Eloise was shaking her head. “She asked us to take care of Peaches for her. She said her new family probably wouldn’t let Peaches live in their home. She said she was sorry and told us to be good for our next governess. But I don’t want a new governess, Papa!” And then she buried her face beneath Jasper’s chin.

  Surely, Tilde had not wanted to leave! Was it possible he’d been so full of his own satisfaction that he’d not realized she regretted the night they’d shared together? He’d promised her at the onset of her employment that he would not act on his inclinations and then he… had.

  “Did she say why she had to leave?” Of course, she would not have told his daughters the real reason if that had been the case.

  Eloise shook her head against his chest, but Althea looked up at him, and nodded.

  “What did she say, Thea?” His silent daughter stilled the hand that was petting the small dog and squeezed her eyes together. He waited.

  “The monster lady made her.”

  The woman in their nightmares? And then the terrifying epiphany her simple words evoked nearly brought tears to his eyes. Crabtree had been banished from the nursery.

  The monster lady was his mother.

  But his silent bashful little Thea wasn’t finished. “You don’t want Miss Fortune to go away, do you Papa?”

  “Your grandmother told Miss Fortune that I wanted her to go away?”

  Thea nodded. “But you don’t, do you Papa?”

  “You like Miss Fortune.” This from Eloise, who’d lifted her head from his shoulder.

  “I don’t want her to go away.” He admitted, his voice sounding thick. He loved Miss Fortune.

  “Then you will find her and bring her back?” A fierce little light began burning in the back of Eloise’s eyes. “Because she gave Peaches to me and Thea, but I know she’s sad now.”

  “I don’t want Miss Fortune to be sad.” Large tears glistened in Althea’s eyes, so very like his own.

  Jasper lifted Eloise so that she was standing on the floor. “We most definitely do not want Miss Fortune to be sad. Your grandmother was horribly mistaken in what she said to Miss Fortune. Now, where are your bonnets and coats?”

  As they realized he was taking them on the greatest of adventures, they both hopped up and rushed across the room to the large wardrobe. Jasper tied Peaches’ leading string onto the pup’s collar.

  This time he wasn’t taking any chances. His mother had ignored his orders, of this he had no doubt now. Jasper’s children could not live peacefully within his own home until his mother was well out of the way. He’d need to visit Stuart and Lords again to make arrangements.

  But first, he needed to find his fortune, and he knew precisely where she was.

  Number thirty-six Wigmore Street.

  Chapter 15

  Fortune’s Fate

  “You left Peaches with them!” Betsy was all astonishment. Tilde would have been as well, had she considered doing any such thing just two weeks before.

  When she’d arrived at her aunt’s house, tearful and distraught, Betsy and Aunt Nellie had whisked her into their favorite drawing room, ordered hot tea and dropped a soft shawl around her shoulders.

  “Lady Althea is comforted by Peaches. Peaches is the only person she’ll talk to.” Tilde made an attempt to explain why on earth she would leave her beloved pet behind.

  “Dog,” Betsy reminded her. “Peaches is a dog.”

  Tilde shook her head and moaned. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered right now.

  Oh, she knew that she was going to have to pull herself together, but for now, the pain of leaving him… of leaving all of them, was too great to overcome.

  “Of course, the children loved you. I won’t even bother asking. And the Earl would not have hired you had he objected to your methods. It must have been Lady Willoughby then. I’ve never met a colder woman in my entire life.” Aunt Nellie thanked the maid who’d entered and was setting down a tray of tea and then went to work preparing a cup just the way Tilde liked it. Three sugars and a splash of milk.

  Tilde merely nodded and then took the cup from her aunt.

  Yes, Lady Willoughby was a cold, cold woman, but had she been lying about her son’s wishes? She had given Tilde the note written in Jasper’s own hand.

  The thought caused her eyes to begin stinging again. She had fallen in love with the blighter! Was he really such a fool as to leave the care of his daughters in the hands of Lady Willoughby? And to think that he hadn’t even had the courage to send her away himself.

  At such enraging thoughts, the stinging began to dissipate. In its place, a white-hot anger surfaced. She’d given him her virginity, for Heaven’s sake. What kind of man took a woman’s innocence and then sent her packing with a note for three thousand pounds?

  She had gazed into his eyes while he’d been inside of her. And he’d held her so tenderly afterward. He’d whispered the sweetest words, even called her love.

  And then it struck her.

  Tilde was no fool where people were concerned––not usually. Had the note been some sort of forgery? The man Tilde knew Jasper to be would never had sent her away like that.

  The message had not been from Jasper.

  It could not have been.

  When Tilde awoke to his kiss this morning––just before he’d crept out her chamber––she had felt love in his kiss. She’d seen love in his eyes.

  She pulled the wadded-up piece of foolscap from her apron and unraveled it carefully. He had, indeed signed it. But… something had been torn from the top. A name perhaps? Was it possible everything Lady Willoughby had said had been a lie?

  Of course, Tilde could not understand how the woman had known what transpired between Jasper and herself in Tilde’s bedchamber the night before. But perhaps there was another explanation.

  Lady Willoughby had entered Tilde’s own chamber without knocking on more than one occasion. She’d also led Tilde to believe Jasper had plans to send the children and herself to Warwick Place so that they would be out of his way.

  Jasper had said he’d considered the idea initially but hadn’t pursued the plan.

  Lady Willoughby most definitely was not to be trusted.

  “I’ve left the girls alone with her.” Tilde raised her fist to her mouth. “As well as Peaches.”

  “Do you think Lady Willoughby would harm them?” Betsy’s voice echoed her own fears.

  Tilde’s stomach lurched at the thought. That woman would have no hesitancy harming an innocent animal… Or even the girls. Tilde replaced her tea on the tray and burst to her feet. “I need to go back.”

  “You cannot go alone.” Betsy rose and removed the apron she wore over her simple muslin gown. “I’ll come with you.”

  “And Crawford will go as well.” Aunt Nellie offered the services of her long-term butler, an elderly but nonetheless intimidating manservant. “I’ll have the coach brought around.”

  But Tilde was already marching toward the door. “I can’t wait. What have I done?” With Betsy right behind her and her aunt signali
ng to Mr. Crawford, Tilde tore the door open wide and––

  Charged directly into Jasper’s arms. He grasped her by the shoulders, to steady them both. His black eyes filled with a new level of intensity.

  “Tilde,” his voice rasped her name.

  “Miss Fortune! Miss Fortune!” Not only was Eloise jumping up and down, shouting her name in glee, but Althea was as well.

  “Bark! Bark! Bark!” And Peaches joined in the melee, happy enough to see her mistress after an entire afternoon of her absence.

  But Tilde could not turn her attention to anyone but the man who’d pulled her up against him and seemed to have no intention of letting her go.

  “What is all this commotion going on out here on my porch?” Aunt Nellie had come to the door. “Come inside before the neighbors begin making up stories.” She shooed the girls in hastily and lifted Peaches off the ground into her arms. With a stern look in Jasper’s direction, she added, “If you two wish to speak alone, you are welcome to use the front parlor. But leave the door ajar, mind you.” And then she grasped Tilde by the arm in order to remove her from Lord Willoughby’s grasp.

  Stunned and more than a little relieved, Tilde was barely aware that Betsy had led the girls upstairs. Her aunt followed at a much slower pace, leaving Jasper alone with her in the foyer.

  Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the crumpled note and held it out.

  “I won’t keep it.”

  She could almost hear her own heart beating as he reached out and took it from her.

  And then his brows furrowed and he was shaking his head.

  “I gave this to my mother.” His gaze practically bore into hers. “I demanded that she withdraw immediately.”

  Tilde wrapped her arms around herself. “She knew.” Her voice came out barely a whisper. “That you spent the night in my chamber. Why would you tell her something like that?”

  Jasper glanced around the foyer. “Will you lead me to this parlor your aunt has so generously offered for our use? Perhaps this is not the best conversation to have while anyone might overhear?”