A Stolen Kiss (Victorian Love Book 1)

by M. A. Nichols

  “Mr. Colin DeVere,” he said with a quick bow and a growing smile that lit his handsome face. But that was not the correct descriptor. He was thin and lithe with delicate features and a mop of blond curls, that made Lily think of him as more beautiful than handsome. “And though I have already been abominably rude, might I add to my sins by asking your name? I would seek a proper introduction, but it seems ridiculously de rigueur to seek one out when we are already speaking.”

  His gaze was not the penetrating glower Mr. Hatcher preferred, but it was earnest and fully fixed on her as though he truly cared about her answer. This was not some polite glance that accompanied a few moments of chatting before the gentleman scurried away.

  “Miss Lily Kingsley.”

  That smile of his grew, and Lily’s cheeks heated in response.

  “Might I join you, Miss Kingsley? You were looking rather forlorn.”

  Though Lily did feel a tickle of pleasure over his concern, her lips pinched together as she muttered to herself, “Why does everyone seem to think they know how I am feeling?” Of course, she had been rather forlorn before he had approached, but that was not the point.

  “Pardon?” asked Mr. DeVere with raised eyebrows.

  But Lily cleared her expression and waved for him to sit beside her. The seat was unoccupied, and Lily doubted Mr. DeVere would linger long.

  “And what has you so downcast tonight?” he asked.

  Lily’s eyebrows rose, and she glanced at him. It was the only thing she could do, for she could not think of a proper response.

  Mr. DeVere gave a chagrined grimace. “You think me too forward, and I apologize. I simply was overtaken by curiosity as to why such a lovely young lady would look so distraught.”

  Blinking at Mr. DeVere, Lily’s face burned to the tips of her ears. She could not think of a single time when anyone had called her lovely. Her. Miss Lily Kingsley. Of course, her parents and dearest friends used such words, but theirs was not an unbiased opinion.

  *

  Colin did not think himself a vain man, but it was hard not to puff himself up when faced with unabashed admiration. From the first word he had spoken, he had brought a blush to Miss Kingsley’s cheeks, and the lady tripped over her words, avoiding his gaze when possible and becoming all the more flustered when she did. There was something quite invigorating to know that he affected her so.

  “Are you not dancing tonight, Miss Kingsley?”

  Nibbling on her lips, she turned her face to the dancers to hide her expression from him. “I prefer to listen to the music.”

  “You can listen and dance at the same time.”

  Miss Kingsley shook her head. “I have no talent for dancing.”

  “I cannot believe that,” he said, leaning closer. Not enough to be scandalous, but a subtle movement that drew her attention to his proximity. Miss Kingsley’s eyes widened at it and the slight compliment, making Colin’s chest ached for her. She may not be the physical ideal of womanhood, but Miss Kingsley seemed a sweet lady who deserved a bit of flattery.

  “And where do you call home, Mr. DeVere?”

  That diversion nearly had him laughing as it was far from subtle. And though he wished to hurry things along, Colin allowed Miss Kingsley’s change of subject.

  “That is a complicated question,” he said with a broad smile. “At present, I count London as my home. I hail from Wiltshire, though I did not spend much time there.”

  The conversation paused for a moment, and Colin was content to wait as he knew Miss Kingsley was gathering her courage to ask the question. Vague statements may be a silly trick, but it was better to allow a conversation to be just that and not a lecture. So, he waited for her to prompt him, and she did.

  “Then where did you spend your youth?”

  “The sea,” he said. A shiver ran along his spine as it always did when speaking of those years, but Colin held onto his affable smile. “I joined the navy when I was a young lad, so that is more home than my family seat.”

  Colin had left the navy the moment he had reached his majority and had not stepped foot on another ship in the three years since, yet ladies were always giddy for details. A simple mention was all it took, and their curiosities were peeked. Miss Kingsley’s questions were more interesting than most, but they required little thought.

  Which left him to stew.

  Miss Aubrey was waiting for him; Colin had known it was foolhardy to attend both the Walker’s and the Thompson’s soirees in the same evening, but it was necessary. There was no time to waste—not that spending an evening with Miss Aubrey could ever be a waste, but neither was it conducive to his plans against Hatch.

  The conversation bounced between them as Miss Kingsley took a vigorous approach to conversing. The lady had plenty to say on any topic broached, and one topic led to another, which led to another, and before long, their verbal path had meandered all over creation. She hardly needed any help from him to ramble on about anything that popped into her head, and while she seemed a nice sort, Colin struggled to keep his attention on her.

  He tried to push the ticking of his pocket watch from his mind, but he could feel it there in his waistcoat, warning him that his time with Miss Aubrey was flying away. It was like a second heartbeat, thumping against his ribcage.

  He had laid enough groundwork that it was unlikely to matter if he left now, but Colin could not leave Miss Kingsley. Not yet. Hatch wanted her, but she did not want him, and it would take little effort to turn Miss Kingsley’s head. He needed to lay enough of a foundation to keep her from becoming attached to Hatch but not enough to raise her expectations. She was an innocent, after all. Miss Kingsley would be a useful tool to punish Hatch, but she did not deserve to be hurt by Colin’s machinations.

  Though the scandal had raised some interest in the lady, Colin knew it would be forgotten soon enough; some gossip was bandied about for years, but Miss Kingsley was too overlooked to hold public interest for long. With a few well-chosen words in the right ears, Colin could help the rumors fade from memory, and then the lady wouldn’t need to marry Hatch to repair her reputation.

  Just a little flattery. A few compliments. Some time together. Hatch was such a difficult fellow that it wouldn’t take much effort to sway Miss Kingsley from his side.

  Finally, he retrieved his pocket watch and fought to keep the dismay from his face. Granted, Miss Kingsley may think it was due to his leaving her company, so Colin allowed some of it to show.

  “I am afraid that must leave you, Miss Kingsley. I did not realize how late it was, and I have another engagement this evening.”

  There was a hint of disappointment in her gaze, and Colin knew he was well on his way to success.

  “I understand, Mr. DeVere. Thank you for chatting with me,” she replied with a smile.

  Standing, he gave her a low bow and tucked his pocket watch away. Summoning all his charm, Colin fixed her with a warm gaze. “Might we drive out tomorrow to continue this conversation?”

  Miss Kingsley sat there as though frozen, the confused flutter of her eyelashes the only movement. It was several quiet moments before she finally spoke. “I am afraid I have a prior engagement that will commandeer the entire afternoon.”

  “And you cannot throw them over?” he asked, dropping his voice to little more than a whisper.

  Pulling herself free of his gaze, Miss Kingsley shook her head, her hands clenching in her lap. “I have a standing appointment at a foundling home that I cannot miss.” She paused, her cheeks reddening like an apple. “Though you are welcome to join me if you wish.”

  Mulling that option over, Colin was not happy to allow such an opportunity to slip by, but he did not wish to devote the entire afternoon to this. A few hours in a coach was one thing, but to waste most of the day was more than he desired. Besides, there was a chance that Miss Aubrey would call on the Barlowes tomorrow, and that might allow him a few minutes in her company.

  “I’m afraid I must decline,” said Colin with
a frown. When she met his eyes once more, he held her there, giving her a shadow of a smile that was filled with longing and disappointment. Sensing that he had pushed things as far as he dared, he gave her another bow. “But I shall convince you to join me another time.”

  Biting on her lips once more, Miss Kingsley’s hands clenched together until he was certain that she must have lost all feeling in them. She ducked her head with another blush and said, “Perhaps.”

  “Until next time, Miss Kingsley.”

  Chapter 9

  A tea tray sat untouched on Jack’s desk, and he slouched in his armchair, his clasped hands resting on his stomach as he stared at the far wall. It was pointless to pretend that his mind was filled with anything but Miss Lily Kingsley, for his thoughts had not strayed from her since the moment she had erupted into his life.

  “Your tea is cold,” said Silas, leaning against the door jamb, hands in pockets.

  Jack grunted in reply and made no move to shift positions.

  “I have heard the most remarkable rumor.” Though Jack did not look at the fellow directly, he pictured that challenging look Silas always got in such circumstances. He rarely demanded Jack to tell-all, but he was adept at prevaricating until the truth came out. Silas was vastly irritating when he put his mind to it. So, the quickest way to avoid such megrims was to get to the heart of the matter as quickly as possible.

  “I am engaged to Miss Lily Kingsley,” said Jack.

  Coming into the office, Silas dropped into the chair opposite Jack’s desk. “Hearing it from you is no more believable than when I heard it from so many others.”

  Slanting his gaze to Silas, Jack raised his eyebrows. “And why is that so unbelievable?”

  “You mean besides the fact that I heard you in this office declare without hesitation that you would not be offering for Miss Kingsley? And to her uncle, no less?” Silas answered with a challenging raise of his own brows. “Or the fact that you have yet to mention it, though a fair amount of time has passed?”

  With a sigh, Jack returned his gaze to the office wall, his eyes tracing the scrolling pattern of the wallpaper.

  “The Jonathan Hatcher I know would never cave in to pressure like this.”

  “It was the right thing to do,” said Jack in an off-handed tone. He had never noticed how gaudy the walls looked. It was a rich shade of burgundy, but the gold accent was a bit much.

  “Certainly.” It was a simple word, but there was a wealth of meaning in Silas’s tone. Tentative and filled with curiosity, Jack heard the thoughts churning in his partner’s mind.

  “Both of us had a hand in the scandal that damaged her reputation, and it was only proper that I do right by her,” said Jack.

  Silas grunted in agreement, though Jack did not look to see what expression accompanied that nebulous sound.

  “I am not opposed to marrying her.”

  This time, there was a distinct humor to Silas’s grunt, and Jack turned his head to see his old friend watching him with laughter in his eyes.

  “Such ardent sentiment,” said Silas with a dry tone. “Though being ‘not opposed’ may not be the best foundation for a marriage, it is better than being opposed.”

  At that, memories of Lily’s fury played through Jack’s mind as his gaze drifted to the wall once more. If any word described the lady’s position about their impending marriage, “opposed” would be it. His thumbs tapped together as he mused about his betrothed. Human nature was not hard to understand. People were a predictable lot, but Miss Lily Kingsley was a puzzle, and Jack was no closer to understanding her.

  “She is an odd lady,” mumbled Jack. He’d not thought that a particularly inflammatory statement, but it was met with a pregnant silence that drew his attention to Silas, who sat on the edge of his chair, watching Jack with wide eyes.

  “What is the matter?” asked Jack with furrowed brows and a feeling of dread weighing him down.

  “‘An odd lady?’” Silas parroted.

  “That is what I said.”

  “But what you meant is ‘intriguing.’”

  Straightening in his chair, Jack rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what fantasies your mind is concocting, but you’d best leave them be.”

  “I wouldn’t say they’re fantasies, Jack. Whether or not you are willing to admit it aloud, you are not one to offer marriage—regardless of duty. You could as easily bribe some gentleman in dire straits to offer for her or find some other way to fulfill your obligation.”

  There was truth to Silas’s words, so Jack did not bother disputing them.

  “And you are not free with your praise—”

  “I said Miss Kingsley is odd. That is hardly praise,” grumbled Jack.

  Silas gave an appreciative nod but added, “From anyone else, that would be true. From you, on the other hand…” He let the words dangle off into oblivion, as though they could stand on their own without further evidence or support. Which was preposterous. Even if the image of Lily’s eyes hung in Jack’s memory, tantalizing him.

  “She needs a keeper, that is all. From what I have seen of the lady, she is a tender, trusting soul who would wander into danger and thank it for its time. I have no desire to see that goodness crushed, and it will be if someone does not step in and watch over her.”

  Silas relaxed into his armchair, and that ever-present light in his eyes softened as Jack spoke, a gentle smile curling the edge of his lips.

  “I hardly know the lady, Silas, so do not infer more to my feelings than I have expressed.”

  His partner gave a sage nod that embodied all the wisdom and experience of his far more mature years; for all that the fellow was nearly two decades older than Jack, Silas was a childish imp at heart. His movement may have looked as though it was an agreement, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that contradicted it.

  “Then I shan’t infer any more,” said Silas. “But I will ask when you are to see her again.”

  Jack shrugged. “She does not wish to announce our engagement formally until her parents arrive home from the Continent, and then the planning will take off in earnest—”

  “I did not ask when you will marry her. I asked when you shall see her again.”

  Unbidden, Jack’s lips pinched together as he remembered their disastrous outing. “I have no immediate plans.”

  Silas’s brows pulled together, his expression wrinkling. “How do you plan to court her?”

  Then Jack’s expression matched Silas’s. “Court her? We are already engaged.”

  Leaning forward with a sigh, Silas shook his head. “What does that have anything to do with it? Courting does not end once you decide to marry. At least not in good marriages.”

  In the abstract, Jack was well familiar with what courting meant, but in real terms, it was as foreign as any word in Chinese. More so, for at least he knew a few simple phrases in that language. Scratching at his jaw, Jack tried to think his way through that tangled mess. Did it mean he would be forced to spend hours going on pointless outings like their failed venture to the park? Would she expect him to squire her to the usual insipid haunts? Hours spent in ballrooms and parties when he had much more important things to do? Heaven help him, Jack could not stomach the thought of it.

  Wasn’t it enough that they were promised to each other? They had a lifetime to sort the rest of it out.

  But when Jack emerged from his thoughts once more, he found that Silas had abandoned him, leaving Jack to the silence of his office, a tray of cold tea, and a deluge of questions with no answers.

  Chapter 10

  Fingers running along the piano keys, Lily made her way through the interlude building to the song’s finale. Taking in a deep breath, her voice came out in a bright, clear tone, rising above the accompaniment. The notes climbed, crescendoing to the highest reaches of her range. A brief shiver of nerves had her worrying she wouldn’t hit that last lingering note, but it came out strong and controlled. There were times when the song felt like a runaway carriag
e, careening through the measures, haphazardly hitting the proper pitches and tone while only one misstep from disaster. But in this instance, she made it to the journey’s end.

  Perhaps the forthcoming performance would not be an utter failure. Any musician will attest that one never performs before an audience as perfectly as one does in private, but Lily felt confident that all would be well; there was time enough for practicing before the concert, and she was already gaining confidence in the song.

  Rising from her seat, Lily ran a final touch over the keys. The Broadwood was a beautiful instrument and entirely wasted on her uncle’s family as not one of them played with any proficiency. The frame was stained a deep reddish-brown, the strong grain of the wood adding a richness to the color. It was intended to be a showpiece, and it was a beautiful specimen.

  A knock sounded at the drawing room door, and a footman entered a moment later, carrying a bouquet. Coming to stand before her, Gregory offered it to her, but Lily merely stared at it.

  “For you, miss,” he said, nodding at the flowers.

  Of course, she knew what his motions had meant, but Lily could not believe the flowers were for her. Other than a time or two when her father or brother had sent her a posy, she had never received a bouquet before. Lily took the blossoms and accompanying note, and the footman took his leave as she stared at the offering in her hands.

  A handful of gillyflowers were gathered alongside pale pink and purple pyramidal blossoms with small purple wildflowers scattered along the edges; nestled among the flowers was a white rose and lily. Drawing them close until their buttery petals brushed her cheeks, Lily breathed in their scent.

  Mr. Hatcher. The gentleman had finally acknowledged his horrid behavior and sent an apology. It was the only explanation. The irritation Lily had harbored for the past sennight faded at the sight of his lovely offering, but when she opened the accompanying note, she found Mr. DeVere’s signature on the bottom.

  Thank you for an enjoyable evening. I look forward to seeing you again and hope you enjoy the flowers and their underlying sentiment.