New tears came to her eyes, but these were not the mournful ones of a few moments ago. Lily could not help herself, and they spilled out. Pulling away, Jack stared at them, his brows knitted together.
“Sometimes my heart is too full, and they simply come forth,” she explained, her voice hitching.
“You cry when you are happy?”
Lily gave a little laugh at Jack’s incredulous tone. “I cry far too often about a great many things. I cannot help myself.”
Jack nodded, releasing his hold on her to snatch one of her hands. Holding her gaze with warm eyes, he pressed a kiss to her palm, and Lily’s heart melted at the warmth of his smile.
Then he released her and was across the music room before Lily gathered her wits. Blinking at the door that shut behind him, she stood frozen in place, listening to the silence as though that would provide some answer for the strange turn of events.
“Jack?” she called, but he was already gone.
*
With a shaky breath, Jack gathered the remaining shreds of his self-control. Being alone with Lily gazing at him in such a manner was not a safe place to be, for every ungentlemanly bone in his body had begged him to continue kissing her. But with his heart so full of her, a few innocent kisses would never have been enough. Tugging at his jacket and straightening his cravat, Jack turned his thoughts from the lady in the room behind him and how much he wanted to join her there.
And Jack had other business to attend to.
Returning to the party, he scanned the ballroom. The Dossets were standing to one side, and again, the husband proved himself far wiser than his wife, for he was gesturing to the exit and tugging at her, though she pulled free of him and frowned at him. Dosset’s eyes met Jack’s, and the fellow paled.
The sight brought a small, satisfied smile to Jack’s face, but it wasn’t enough. With determined steps, he made his way to the couple, though it required far less effort than before. It was as though the crowd sensed the simmering anger building in Jack’s heart and simply parted the way between him and his quarry.
“Mr. Hatcher, I do apologize for any offense my wife might have caused—” began Dosset, but his words faltered beneath Jack’s glower.
“Mr. Dosset, what are you on about?” growled his wife. “We have nothing to apologize for.”
“You do not speak,” Jack said with a growl.
“How dare you!” Mrs. Dosset turned her nose up at Jack and looked at her husband as though she expected him to defend her honor. But the lanky fellow was intelligent enough to know how such a battle would play out.
“Dearest, please,” he said, taking his wife by the arm.
“I am not familiar with the history between you and Miss Kingsley, but if you ever speak to her in such a disrespectful manner again, I will end you,” said Jack, holding Mrs. Dosset’s burning gaze. “I will destroy your family’s reputation and investments, hunt down every debt you owe and call it in. By the time I finish, the only option you will have is to emigrate to some country beyond my reach—and I warn you, you will have to go far to find it.”
There were plenty of men who would be appalled at threatening a woman, but a predator was a predator, regardless of their gender. For all their supposed “weakness” as the fairer sex, women were as proficient and deadly as any man. And he would not allow anyone—anyone—to hurt Lily again. That precious heart of hers could not protect itself, and it no longer needed to. Guarding it was Jack’s honor, and he reveled in the burning satisfaction he found in that role.
Taking his wife by the arm, Mr. Dosset escorted her out of the ballroom, her whispered protests trailing behind. Jack fought back a triumphant smile, his chest threatening to burst as it swelled beneath the pleasure of vanquishing an enemy. Though, it was more than that. It was vanquishing an enemy on Lily’s behalf. Jack would hazard a guess that the vitriol from this evening was not the first time Mrs. Dosset had unleashed her cruelty on her, and it gave him a unique sense of pride to know this would be the end of it.
Jack turned on his heel to stare out at the ballroom. The music was over, and he’d spoken with Lily, and yet, Jack wasn’t ready to return home yet. The exhaustion that had plagued him earlier had fled, and he felt the strongest urge to stay.
His eyes fell to a basket positioned not far from where he stood. There were others placed around the room, but the number of bills and coins filling them was meager. Though entrance to the concert had required tickets, the price was not what it ought to have been, and those in attendance could stand to put more into the donation baskets than they were giving.
Too many needed incentives to be as generous as they should, and though Jack was by no means silver-tongued like Silas, that did not mean he lacked the skills to persuade and encourage; he’d used them enough times to get funding for his charity projects over the years.
Searching the crowd for suitable candidates, Jack turned his attention to procuring more funds for Lily.
Chapter 20
Head leaned against the armchair, Lily stared at library shelves. Her eyelids opened and closed in slow, steady movements, each one happening without thought, for her head was quite empty at the moment. In fact, it was a blessed relief, even if she felt like a porcelain doll, propped in place and gathering dust.
Lily imagined sneaking back to her bedchamber for some rest, but this moment of mental silence was a ruse. She’d collapsed into bed the night before, quite certain that exhaustion meant a deep slumber, but a myriad of questions, thoughts, and worries had plagued her mind; she’d had not the strength to rise from her bed nor ability to divert her attention from Jack and that devastating kiss. Her bed yet called to her but seeking it out was fruitless as Jack lingered at the edge of her consciousness.
Like a specter, he filled the shadows, waiting for Lily to give him life. Even a passing thought gave Jack more shape and substance, drawing more of her attention and giving him a stronger hold on her mind.
What she needed was conversation, but Lily had not the fortitude to seek it out for the only options available were Aunt Louisa-Margaretta and Uncle Nicholas. She adored them—she truly did—but their conversation would not provide the distraction Lily craved. Even now, she heard the distant rumble of chatter as they entertained guests downstairs, and Lily could not face them at present.
What did last night mean?
Lily groaned as the question took shape in her mind. She’d dissected and pieced the evening together in every possible manner, and there was no more to be learned from it. But still, she could not cast the query aside.
To her, the evening had been a revelation. If nothing else, Lily fully understood and accepted that a portion of her heart was lost to that inscrutable man. But was it destined to be a blessing or a disaster? And where did Jack’s heart lie?
Lily would wager a hefty sum that Jack had been moved during her songs as well; she was not the only one affected by that mysterious connection growing between them. But his tepid compliments did not speak of a lovesick man.
Yet shortly after, they’d shared those kisses in the music room. Even thinking of them now brought a flush to her cheeks, her heart growing so light that it could blow away with the slightest breeze. But then, Jack had abandoned her and hardly spoken to her the rest of the evening. He’d never shown an interest in socializing, yet he’d spent the rest of the evening being the busiest of busybodies. Was he only reserved around her?
It was pointless to logic herself into an answer. Lily had not the capacity for rational thought at present, and deciphering Jack Hatcher’s motivations was an impossible feat at the best of times. Lily needed a distraction; something to take her mind off her present cares, but that left only one option.
Getting to her feet, she left the library in search of the parlor. But it was empty. Turning, she was startled to find the butler standing in the parlor doorway with a bouquet in hand.
“Pardon me, Miss Kingsley,” said Harris with a bow. “These arrived this morning.”<
br />
Lily took the flowers and accompanying note, her heartbeat coming faster as she breathed in the glorious bundle of white lilies; ivy vines circled the stem and twisted upwards, entwining the blossoms.
“Thank you, Harris,” she said, clutching the bouquet to her chest as the butler took his leave.
Going to the sofa, Lily laid the flowers on her lap as she broke the seal and opened the missive, her eyes falling straight to the signature.
C. DeVere.
Her heart sank like a stone, dropping from her chest as she stared at the name. The bouquet was not a sign of Jack’s growing admiration but a manipulation. Mr. DeVere wrote to congratulate her on her performance, but Lily tossed the note aside. False words from a false man, and she was no closer to understanding Jack.
Some might say his kisses were proof enough, but their first few proved Lily ought not to build up fancies in her head.
And then there was Mr. DeVere to consider. If Jack harbored genuine interest, was it merely a byproduct of pride? That Mr. DeVere’s feigned interest sparked Jack to secure her for himself? As much as Lily didn’t want to believe it, she suspected that was closer to the truth than the romantic tales she fashioned for herself.
With a huff and a silent growl at herself, Lily took her flowers and stood. She’d churned these thoughts for hours and doing so again served no purpose. Instead, Lily handed the bouquet to the nearest maid to place in water and went in search of her aunt and uncle. The sounds of conversation drew her to the dining room, which was a bit surprising as it was not where Aunt Louisa-Margaretta hosted guests, but when she stepped through the doorway, she knew in an instant why.
“Aunt Mary and Uncle Ambrose!” Lily practically threw herself at her newly arrived aunt and uncle. “I had not thought you were coming to Town. What a lovely surprise.”
Being wrapped in their embrace, Lily felt a prickle of tears growing, and she fought to keep them at bay, but she was in such desperate need of a confidant. Aunt Louisa-Margaretta was well-meaning but a poor option, and Lily had no friends in London. Surely, Aunt Mary and Uncle Ambrose would have some insight.
When Aunt Mary got a better look at Lily’s face, her own expression grew worried. “Are you unwell?”
“I cannot see why she would be,” answered Aunt Louisa-Margaretta. “Between her recent engagement and her triumph last night, our Lily must be euphoric.”
With Aunt Louisa-Margaretta and Uncle Nicholas at an odd angle to her, Lily knew they could not see her expression though Aunt Mary and Uncle Ambrose did. Pleading with her eyes, she begged them to assist her.
Turning his head slightly away from the others, Uncle Ambrose winked at her, and Lily felt a weight lifted from her heart. It was silly to be so relieved over something so simple, but she was desperate for anyone to speak sense to her. Aunt Mary squeezed her hands and then cast a look at her husband that Lily could not interpret, though he did.
“Lily, you must be hungry,” said Aunt Louisa-Margaretta coming over to guide Lily to a seat. “You did not join us for breakfast.”
Good food eased many a heartache, but Lily was well and truly beyond its comfort. The thought of eating anything made her stomach turn, but the lady was so insistent that Lily allowed herself to be maneuvered into place.
Aunt Mary gave her a reassuring smile, and Lily could only hope that she and Uncle Ambrose would rescue her soon.
“I’m disappointed we missed your concert,” said Uncle Ambrose.
“She was splendid,” said Aunt Louisa-Margaretta with a glowing smile for Lily before sipping from her teacup.
Lily colored and squirmed at the compliment, though she tried not to. “And Mrs. Ollerton and Mrs. Lowe informed me that the proceeds far exceeded expectations. People were especially generous last night, and it was our most profitable concert to date.”
Finishing her bite of ham, Aunt Mary added, “I am so proud of you, Lily, and sorry that we missed it. If we had known, we would have arrived in time to see you perform.”
“But what brought you to London?” asked Lily.
“We needed to speak with Lucas,” said Aunt Mary.
“Our son has not been home in months, and he hasn’t responded to our letters,” added Uncle Ambrose.
Lily’s brows rose. “Is anything the matter?”
But Aunt Mary shook her head. “Not anything particular. We’ve been worried, and when Ambrose suggested we come speak to him in person, I insisted on joining him.”
“I would’ve thought you knew better than to get in a carriage with Ambrose,” replied Uncle Nicholas with a chuckle as he returned to his luncheon.
“And I would’ve thought that you’d grow bored of that jest, Nicholas,” said Aunt Mary with an exasperated smile that held a dose of familial patience. Today, it held more of the latter than the former, though Lily had seen plenty of times when that was not the case. Excepting Lily’s mama, Aunt Mary was one of the few who faced down Uncle Nicholas, and the fellow was bull-headed enough not to learn his lesson. Yet, they rarely got into rows. Lily wasn’t certain how Aunt Mary managed it, but she did.
“But I thought that Cousin Lucas was at home,” said Lily. “I had hoped to see him during my visit but was informed when I arrived a few weeks ago that he’d returned to Lincolnshire for an extended visit.”
Aunt Mary’s lips pinched together, her gaze dropping to her plate as Uncle Ambrose took her hand in his.
“I am terribly sorry,” said Lily.
“It is not your fault,” said Uncle Ambrose with a furrowed brow. “He’s been distant since he left for university.”
Aunt Louisa-Margaretta dropped her teacup down with a clink, the blonde curls framing her face swayed as she leaned forward. “Oh, that is terrible, Mary. But I am certain it is just a misunderstanding. Lucas is such a good boy.”
Standing, Ambrose dropped his serviette on the table. “I hate to interrupt, but Mary and I would like to take a turn about the city. She’s not been to London in ages, and I thought we should take the opportunity while the weather is fine.” Turning to look at his niece, he added, “Would you accompany us?”
Lily’s faculties truly were impaired, for she thought it quite strange that the pair would wish to drive after traveling such a long distance, but Aunt Mary gave her a pointed look that pushed Lily’s slow wits to comprehend the situation.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied before going to grab her bonnet.
Squinting against the rare sunlight they’d received that summer, Lily joined her aunt and uncle in the hackney barouche they’d hired for their stay in London. Giving her the front-facing seat, her uncle took the rear-facing one, perching on the folding seat in a manner that could not have been altogether comfortable, but he refused to allow Lily to take his place. Lily was grateful that the head was raised, though she wished for a bit more privacy.
“Now, what is the matter?” asked Aunt Mary, and Lily attempted a clear and rational response, but a hitching sob broke out, unleashing a torrent of tears.
Aunt Mary’s arms came around her, holding her niece close as Lily gave in to the flood of emotion that was fed by confusion, frustration, and a heaping portion of exhaustion. It was ridiculous, but though Lily tried to gain control, she was worn too thin.
Eventually, the tears ebbed, and Lily unraveled the whole convoluted tale from the moment she and Jack had been discovered in the Pratt’s library.
Chapter 21
Turning the letter over, Jack broke the seal and read through the insipid contents. Too many people chose volume over value when it came to words, and Jack growled at the fool who had written the unnecessary missive. The wasted blunt to send it in addition to the time spent writing and reading it made Jack’s jaw clench together.
Crumpling the paper, he tossed it into the fireplace; it was of more value there than in his hand.
Jack retrieved the next and continued to sort through his correspondence. The pile had grown significantly, and it was difficult to keep abreast of the
work that had been shunted to the side in favor of repeated outings with Lily, who was more important than this dribble.
His chest twinged, and Jack counted through the days before Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley would return. A month was not an interminable length of time, but Jack would not rest easy until the wedding was over. Leaving things on such uncertain footing went against his nature. Negotiations that lingered on in such nebulous terms rarely ended in success.
Certainly, their engagement was progressing nicely. The kisses they’d shared last night were not a mistake or convenience. Lily had accepted his every touch and kiss, matching his passion with equal measure.
Him. Not DeVere.
But Jack didn’t know what Lily did when he was not around. That thought brought an unpleasant shiver along his spine and settled in his stomach. She had entered into their engagement unwillingly and may not feel bound to it. Was she bestowing such tokens on DeVere as well?
Slamming the letters, Jack cursed at himself for entertaining such a thought. Lily would not toy with others in that manner, and she had returned his affection with fervor. She cared for him, and it was ridiculous for him to—
His office door swung open, and Mr. Ambrose Ashbrook marched in. The affable gentleman Jack had met during their business dealings was nowhere in sight; before him stood a soldier staring down the enemy, ready to charge.
“What did you do to my niece?”
Not long ago, another Ashbrook had pushed his way into Jack’s office, but where Nicholas deserved a few flippant remarks, Jack felt no desire to twit Ambrose.
“First, you compromise her, then you use her good nature against her to manipulate her into an engagement she did not desire,” he said, staring at Jack with a hard glint in his eyes.
Jack had no defense against the first accusation, but the second demanded rebuttal. “I only made her see that an engagement was the best choice for her. She needs to be protected.”
A Stolen Kiss (Victorian Love Book 1) Page 17
