A Stolen Kiss (Victorian Love Book 1)

by M. A. Nichols

  Sincerely yours,

  C. DeVere

  Though he did not say it outright, Lily understood his meaning well enough. Hurrying from the drawing room, Lily snuck through the hall and into the library. Having never needed a flower dictionary, she did not have a copy, but as Aunt Louisa-Margaretta and Uncle Nicholas enjoyed sending each other little floral notes, Lily knew they owned at least one. Scouring the shelves, she hunted for the book. She clutched the flowers and note in one hand and yanked the volume free, though it was difficult to sift through the pages one-handed.

  She could not be certain, but Lily was fairly confident that the wildflowers were Venus’s looking-glass. Scanning the pages, she found the entry for that particular flower and saw its meaning written directly below the name. Flattery. Lily smiled at that. Mr. DeVere certainly had flattered last night, so it was no surprise that he would do so with the flowers.

  But she stopped when she landed on the entry for roses. Beauty. That surprise only increased when she read about gillyflowers. Lasting beauty. Though the lily could be a nod to her namesake, according to Mr. Tyas’s The Sentiment of Flowers, it also symbolized purity and modesty.

  Mr. DeVere had sent her a bouquet that spoke of beauty, flattery, purity, and modesty.

  Lily knew not what to do with that message. Perhaps she was inferring more than the gentleman had meant to imply. But it was common enough for ladies and gentlemen to send secret messages with a few flowers, and his note was quite pointed. However, Mr. DeVere may use a different dictionary that supplied less romantic meanings to his flowers.

  Slipping the book onto its shelf, Lily clutched the note and bouquet and wandered to the window. The great thing opened to the sunshine, though there was little to be had that day. Staring out onto the gloomy street, Lily watched the carriages and people pass, wondering what Mr. DeVere meant.

  A tiny prick of her conscience told her she was not free to accept Mr. DeVere’s offering, just as it had told her she should not have entertained his flattery or longed to drive out with him. But was it truly wrong of her to enjoy Mr. DeVere’s company when her engagement was a temporary arrangement?

  A clock chimed a trilling tinkle of bells, and Lily realized the day had gotten away from her. Stepping into the hallway, Lily went in search of her things and gave the flowers to a maid to put in water. As much as she wished to sit about pondering this strange turn of events, she had more important things to do at present.

  With a basket of goodies packed and a maid trailing behind her, Lily set out for the foundling home. Her footsteps led her along the path with little thought as she wound through the streets.

  Though eager for her day’s work to begin, thoughts of Mr. DeVere and Mr. Hatcher haunted her steps. Her life had taken a strange turn. Flirtation, a kiss, and an engagement; Lily laughed to herself as she realized her dreams for the Season had come to fruition—merely in the wrong order and with different gentlemen.

  Thoughts of Mr. DeVere’s bouquet and tender words made Lily’s footsteps quicken and her heart lighten. Never had she been so admired by a gentleman. Merely thinking of his honeyed words was enough to warm Lily’s heart, pulling her lips into a smile. They were precisely what a lady wished to hear, which made them all the more difficult to believe, even if she dearly wished to.

  Mr. DeVere was dashing and several years younger than she. Though such a gap did not bother her in the slightest, it was exceptionally bizarre that such a gentleman would take a fancy to her when none such had done so before.

  Lily had seen ladies deal with such an influx of admirers before, as though the gentlemen did not notice the lady until one of their kind paid court to her, which made her desirable and forced them to give chase. Not that Lily would call only two admirers an influx, but for her, it was a veritable flood.

  Instinct warned her that Mr. DeVere was not earnest in his admiration, but no matter how she tried to puzzle it all out, Lily was no closer to understanding either his or Mr. Hatcher’s motivations.

  With a few hurried steps, Lily crossed the road and entered through one of the side gates into Hyde Park. As it was too early for the fashionable crowd to clog the pathways, she reveled in the calm. The farther into the Park she got, the quieter the sounds of the city became. There were those traversing the roadways on horseback or in carriages, but it was a minor thing compared to the cacophony that was London.

  Though dark clouds filled much of the sky, holes appeared between them, allowing shafts of sunlight to peek through. How she wished the rain clouds would clear. The weather had been so wet of late, and Lily was desperate to enjoy a warm and bright day. Too much of the world looked dreary, and they needed a dose of sunshine.

  So caught up in her thoughts of the city, of gentlemen, and of the children she was going to visit that Lily did not see the path before her. It was straight and wide with no turns or twists to require her attention, so she allowed her feet free rein to go as they please with no prompting, not even noticing that one of the gentlemen who occupied her thoughts was standing in her path until she nearly collided with him.

  “Mr. Hatcher,” said Lily with a curtsy as the fellow gave a bow and tip of his hat.

  The pair stood there, watching each other. His expression was as stony as ever, but Lily felt a blush enter her cheeks. Their last interlude was so mortifying and infuriating, which only added to the general discomfort she felt in his presence. She only hoped Mr. Hatcher attributed her coloring to the crisp air.

  “I see you are out wandering the city on your own again.” The words were innocent enough, but there was no mistaking the disapproval in his tone.

  Lily’s eyes narrowed, her spine straightening. “As before, I am not alone.”

  Mr. Hatcher’s eyes darted from Lily to the maid standing behind her and back. His brows rose, and the edge of his lips curled into a hint of a smirk. His expression wasn’t belittling or snide, but it held a clear challenge. After their previous discussion on the subject, Lily doubted he viewed a single maid as an improvement over the previous footman. But it was not worth arguing over, as Mr. Hatcher’s opinion mattered little.

  Until he took the basket from her maid and dismissed the girl.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “As we are betrothed, there is no impropriety with me squiring you about alone. We do not need her services.”

  Lily reached for the basket, but Mr. Hatcher pulled it away and motioned for her to continue down the path.

  When she did not move, Mr. Hatcher sighed. “What is the matter?”

  A great many things were the matter. The sensible voice in her head told her to be calm. This was an irritation—nothing more. There was no need to make a scene. Unfortunately, that voice was drowned out by her mounting frustration.

  “Why must you be so irritating?”

  “I wish to accompany you. Would you have your servant continue to do so when she is not needed and has work awaiting her at home?”

  “No…” It was true that Lily would have dismissed the maid, but that was not the point. “I will be gone most of the afternoon, and surely, you have other obligations that will not allow you to accompany me.”

  “None that are as important.”

  The terse reply startled Lily. A gentleman like Mr. Hatcher must have a day full of business to be done, yet he viewed accompanying her as the more pressing matter. There was nothing admirable about his heavy-handed approach to the situation, but it was impossible to remain unmoved by the sentiment behind it.

  “I can send word to my partner to shift my schedule,” said Mr. Hatcher. “But my duty lies in escorting my betrothed.”

  And that cold assessment eradicated any warmth she’d felt; there was nothing so chilling as being deemed a “duty.”

  “I had an escort, though such a thing is hardly needed,” she said. “If you had bothered to discuss it with me before dismissing my maid, you could have saved yourself the inconvenience of rearranging your schedule.”

>   “If I see something needing to be done, I do it. What is the matter in that?”

  Lily reached for the basket again, but Mr. Hatcher would not let go of it. “Please hand it to me.”

  Mr. Hatcher glanced at the basket and then at her. “Is this why you are so upset? I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I did not carry it for you.”

  “A gentleman would ask permission,” she said, the words coming through clenched teeth.

  That infuriating eyebrow of his cocked upwards again. “You would say yes, so what is the point?”

  “The point is that you insist on making decisions for me and refuse to solicit my opinions.”

  His head tilted to the side as he examined her. “So, you would have me waste time going through pointless motions when we both know you would accept my help?”

  The fire of her anger simmered and died under the cold disappointment that filled her. He did not bother with asking because he thought her opinions were a waste of time. There was no point in fighting this immovable man any further. Only a little patience was needed until her parents returned, and then she would be free of him.

  *

  The lady was a confusing mess. At times, Lily was so sensible, but then her feathers would ruffle over the slightest issue, and Jack was at a loss to understand her. He was being perfectly courteous in escorting her and taking her basket—which was surprisingly cumbersome—yet she acted as though he had impugned her honor in some fashion.

  At least she had finally accepted that he was not going to budge. It was quite ridiculous for them to stand about arguing in the park.

  Lily moved forward, and Jack fell into step beside her. Yet as they walked along, the lady did not speak, and it was no pensive silence. Though Jack was heartily sick of the contention between them, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Yet again, she was accepting defeat, but she mounted a silent protest all the same. Jack admired that spirit. Even if it was irritating.

  “Then you are unhappy with me?” he asked, unable to stop himself from baiting her.

  Straightening, Lily halted and whirled around to stare at him. “The last time we were together, you insulted me. And you think I would simply forget that?”

  The accusation startled a scowl from Jack. “I did not, and I will not apologize because you chose to invent some offense.”

  Lily’s cheeks flushed crimson, but it was not the demure, timid color she usually displayed. It was blazing. But before she could open her mouth, Jack raised a staying hand.

  “Can we agree to let the past go?”

  Though her posture softened, Lily’s gaze held a smoldering fire waiting to unleash its fury.

  Jack sighed to himself, though he managed to hide his impatience adequately. Diplomacy was not his forte. Perhaps he should petition Silas to act as a mediator between them; that fellow was far more than adept at handling delicate situations. But perhaps Jack could muster some finesse for Lily’s sake.

  “It is clear you are angry,” said Jack, though he did not add that he had not the foggiest as to why she was, “but might we begin anew? Whatever has passed between us, we are engaged to be married, and at the very least, I would hope for us to manage some level of domestic peace.”

  Lily’s expression shifted, and Jack saw the signs that she was coming to her senses. It was a pinching of her lips. A slight furrow of her brow. The faintest of scowls tinged with begrudging acceptance filling her gaze.

  “I suppose there is wisdom in that course of action,” said Lily. Her shoulders slumped. “Though I may not have shown it properly, I do not care for contention and prefer there to be peace between us.”

  “Then we have struck a truce?”

  With a nod, Lily continued on her way, and Jack fell into step again. However, for all their talk of peace, the lady seemed in no hurry to broach a conversation, either.

  “Might I ask where we are headed?” asked Jack.

  “A foundling home. When I am in Town, I assist in teaching the children music once a week.” Lily paused before pointing to the basket he carried. “At times, I bring them treats and toys to play with.”

  It was a simple statement and a kind act, yet it roused a conflicting respect and frustration towards his affianced wife. There were plenty who espoused charitable beliefs, but few truly went out of their way to act on them. Of course, it was heartwarming to know that she served the poor and downtrodden—both of which were apt descriptions for those children. Yet, Lily had chosen such a ridiculous manner in which to do so.

  “What is the matter, Mr. Hatcher?”

  Jack shook his head and kept walking.

  “You made a distinct noise,” she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “It was both significant and vague.”

  Diplomacy. Lily wished for honesty, something that Jack highly prized, but speaking his unadulterated thoughts was likely to break their newfound peace. Thinking of Silas’s manner in delivering such news, Jack hesitantly opened his mouth.

  “Perhaps that is not the most efficient manner in which to aid those children.”

  Lily halted once more. “Meaning?”

  Jack was forced to stop and look at her. “Though you may feel music is a worthwhile pursuit, I doubt it is valuable to those children whose futures will not afford them much leisure time to enjoy such hobbies. They need an education to improve their lot in life, but math, writing, reading, and the like are much more valuable in that respect.”

  There was a subtle shift in Lily’s posture and expression. Though there was no outward indication of her feelings, it was as though every muscle in her body tightened, making her more rigid with each word Jack spoke. Perhaps he should have kept his own counsel, but he could not fathom marrying a woman with whom he could not be honest.

  Lily gave a jerky nod and stepped around Jack, moving briskly along the path.

  Chapter 11

  Insufferable man! To think that she had almost believed Mr. Hatcher’s truce to be true. The gentleman clearly did not understand the concept. Or did not care. She wasn’t clear as to which it was, but it did not matter. Either way, Mr. Hatcher was a domineering, self-important fool.

  She need only suffer his company for a few more weeks. That was all. Why could she not grit her teeth and remain silent? Speaking only made the situation worse, and Lily did not understand what had taken hold of her tongue.

  Why did Mr. Hatcher’s opinion matter to her?

  Lily knew well that she hung too much of her happiness on the judgments of those around her, but Mr. Hatcher elicited a degree of honesty unlike any other. Perhaps it was his forthright nature or the relative anonymity of their relationship, but Lily found it impossible to keep her own counsel.

  And perhaps, that was not such a terrible thing.

  Stopping, Lily whirled on Mr. Hatcher and gathered her courage, straightening her metaphorical and physical spine to face him.

  “You may not think my efforts worthwhile, Mr. Hatcher, but that does not mean it is so. You may not feel that understanding and playing music is a useful skill, but it is to these children.”

  Lily half expected him to interrupt, but he merely stood before her, clutching the basket. His face appeared as impassible as ever, but there was some sentiment gleaming in his eyes that she could not identify—nor did she care to. Now was not his moment. It was hers.

  “Many of those young boys choose a career in the military, which has bands they use for morale and ceremony. A majority of their members are foundling home boys who learned how to play in music classes like this. Not only are they well-paid positions, but it keeps the boys away from the battlefield.”

  Mr. Hatcher merely stood there listening, so Lily went on.

  “Even if they do not join the armed forces, there is a demand for musicians, yet those from social classes that can afford lessons would never demean themselves by becoming hired workers. And the girls can never hope to become teachers and governesses without some musical knowledge. You say they need an educ
ation that will improve their lot in life, and that is precisely what I am doing.”

  Whipping around, Lily stormed down the path. But another thought had her stopping to add one more defense.

  “And even if that were not true…” Lily’s words wobbled, her throat tightening against the rising sentiments pressing against her chest. Gritting her teeth, she wished she could keep her voice from cracking and the tears from pricking her eyes, but Lily had never learned how to rein in her emotions. It was like a flood that washed through her, sweeping away her good sense and decorum. It filled the whole of her with such strength and power until it spilled out of her eyes unbidden.

  Lily cleared her throat and tried again, though her voice quivered. “Even if these lessons do nothing for their employment, it is not a waste of time and effort. These poor children have so little love and happiness in their life, but for a few hours every week, I can visit them and show the affection they are starved for. I can teach them something that will be a joy to them, even as life stretches before them into dreary nothingness.”

  How Lily wanted to remain strong but speaking of those little dears added to the torrent. Her heart cried out for them and all the poor children who were mistreated or unwanted by the very people who brought them into this world. Merely the thought of anyone suffering as they did filled her with such unbearable pain. She burned with a desire to protect and heal them, to erase the damage that had already been done to them. Her breathing hitched, her vision blurred, but she forged ahead.

  “There are plenty who are willing to hand over money to pay for buildings and caregivers, but they need more than a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs. I can think of no better use of my time than to give them that.”

  Turning, Lily strode along the path as tears wet her cheeks. She wiped at them, but she would not stop to retrieve her handkerchief from her reticule. A hand grabbed her arm, but Lily pulled away, only stopping when Mr. Hatcher spoke.