A Stolen Kiss (Victorian Love Book 1)

by M. A. Nichols

  And Jack knew this was a pivotal moment.

  Like that breath before an agreement was struck, this was that momentary pause between failure and fruition, and his action at this moment would determine which would come to pass. As much as his heart thumped at the thought of speaking out, the fear of losing Lily was far stronger. The time for prevaricating was over, and the choice was between letting her go or letting her see his whole self.

  Knowing that it would taint her kept his mouth firmly shut, but instinct came into play again, whispering to him that it was a mistake. Lily felt things deeply—far deeper than Jack had ever thought a person could feel—but she was not weak. She was no stranger to heartache and hardship; others had tried to dull that light insider her, but it still shone brightly.

  Lily was strong, and Jack had to trust in that.

  “It is not easy for me to talk of such things,” said Jack. The words came slowly, and each one was a battle, but he would not retreat once his course of action was set.

  “Captain Furton taught me many things, and chief among them was to bury the fury I felt whenever I saw his wretched face. If my control slipped for even a moment, I was punished, and when I had grown immune to his beatings, he would punish my men in my stead. So, I learned to hold my tongue.”

  *

  Lily fought against the tears. She knew that it was pointless to do so, but she struggled all the same. In her mind, she could picture Jack as that poor lad, and her heart broke for the child and the hard man he became.

  “You do not have to anymore,” she said.

  Jack gave a vague nod. “But it is not easy to undo a lifetime of habit.”

  With each touch of her hand, the tension eased from Jack, so Lily drew closer, sitting flush next to him. Though she doubted it was conscious, he let out a soft exhale, as though the closeness provided a balm for his soul. If that was what he needed, Lily was willing to give it.

  “I know,” she agreed. “But perhaps you can begin with an explanation as to why you announced our engagement in the papers.”

  Jack’s gaze pulled away, but Lily nudged his chin to her, forcing his attention to her as he had done to her moments ago.

  “I wanted to show you that I was in earnest,” he murmured. Though she held his chin in place, his eyes drifted away, and Lily released her hold, her hand stroking along the edge of his jaw before dropping it to hold his hand once more. If it was easier for him not to look at her, then she would respect that. Instead, she chose to rest her head against his shoulder and give him the closeness he seemed to need.

  “You said DeVere made you feel wanted and admired and implied I was driven only by duty. I’ve tried so many ways to show you I am in earnest, but still, you doubt my intentions.”

  Lily’s head rose, and she turned to look at him, and he met her gaze. Her eyes widened, her heart pausing between one beat and the next.

  “I hurt you,” she said. Lily had known that her behavior with Mr. DeVere had led to this fracture between them, but she’d not realized just how much damage she’d truly done. She could see it there in his eyes. Phantom aches and pains played through her, making her heart shudder.

  “Jack, I apologize and can only admit that my vanity and weakness are the culprits,” said Lily. Her cheeks blazed as she turned her red face away from him. Withdrawing her hand from his, she pressed it to her stomach, as though that might calm the anxious flutter that sent a wave of nausea wafting through her. But Jack’s hand was there again, snatching hers again, as though it had been stolen away from its rightful owner, and something in that movement soothed the agony in her heart and loosened her tongue.

  Lily clung to his hand, her fingers stroking the calloused skin. “The night we met I wasn’t sneaking away for an assignation with some secret beau. I’ve never had one nor had any hope of gaining one. No man has ever shown the slightest interest in my company.”

  Jack gave a wordless objection that sounded more akin to a growl than anything human, and Lily squeezed his hand and amended, “No man other than you has ever shown the slightest interest in me. I was never courted. Never asked to dance by someone who was not pressed into service. Never told that I was pretty by anyone other than my family.”

  Lily’s brow furrowed as she felt that rejection anew—as though it was happening at present and not merely a recalled memory.

  “I was determined that if nothing else, I would know what it was like to be kissed,” she said and began unraveling the whole tale. Once she started down that path, it was hard not to unveil it in its entirety. Speaking as she’d never done before, Lily gave every detail from the moment she’d written that silly letter to Mr. Farson.

  “He never sent word that he was not going to come. He simply did not show.” Lily paused before speaking the truth she had not admitted to anyone other than herself, and the words made her heart twist in her chest. “He chose to forego saying his farewells to people he’d known his entire life rather than see me. What does that say about his feelings towards me? Can you call it anything other than revulsion? Disgust? Horror? Mr. Farson preferred to disappear to Canada rather than be in the same room as me.”

  Jack’s thumb brushed a thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun falling at some point. Then his lips were there, kissing the trails they’d made, but it only made Lily’s eyes fill with more. As much as she despised leaning away, she knew she needed to finish.

  “Then I was swept into a forced engagement to a gentleman whom I thought did not care for me in the slightest, and Mr. DeVere strode in saying all these things I’d always longed to hear—”

  But Lily found it impossible to continue because Jack pressed his thumb over her lips, silencing her. His eyes held hers, burning with that intensity only he could manage. It was palpable, filling Lily with such warmth and contentment that she thought herself to be quite blessed if she could simply stare into his eyes for the rest of her life.

  There was a beauty all its own in receiving such a look. It spoke more than words could say, and in it, she saw his heart. Without filter or artifice. Without caveats. His heart belonged to her.

  “You asked me several times why I was determined to go through with this engagement, and I had hoped that you would understand by now,” he murmured. “But as you do not see the truth sitting right in front of your face, I will tell you in no uncertain terms.”

  He paused, that gentle thumb shifting so that it caressed the side of her lips. “I wanted to marry you from the very beginning. Our engagement was never a duty or obligation to me.”

  Tears threatened again, but Lily did not bother stemming them. Though no explicit declaration, she felt his meaning, and it set her heartbeat racing. For once, she had no words to give in reply, but even if she did, Lily suspected it would not have the same impact on the reticent Jack.

  A thought leaped into her mind, but Lily shied away from it. A kiss would be too forward. Too bold. But even as she tried to think of any other possibility, Lily realized it was perfect. This was not the first time she had stepped forward to grasp what she desired, and the previous stakes were nowhere near as high as this moment.

  Without allowing herself another thought, Lily took his face in her hands and guided his lips to hers. With the exception of that first kiss of theirs, she had never initiated such a display, and that first time had meant nothing to either of them. But this kiss was a promise. A declaration. A wish for a lifetime more of this.

  *

  Jack was not a fellow to cry, but some part of him felt like doing so as Lily’s love wrapped around his heart. Her kiss was sweetness and light, and he reined in the urge to take control and envelop her in the passion he felt. Holding this incredible lady in his arms, Jack felt awed that such a clumsy fool had stumbled into a lifetime with such a creature. Perfection.

  With slow, gentle touches, Lily released the kiss and stared into his eyes. Somewhere in the heat of the moment, she’d drawn close enough that she fairly sat on his lap, and
Jack gave her a lazy smile which only grew as she gazed at him.

  “Jack,” she whispered as one of her hands caressed his cheek. His heart melted at the sound of his name on her lips.

  “Can you forgive me?” he murmured.

  “Only if you will do the same for me,” came the quiet reply, her lips brushing against his. There was a hint of apprehension in her gaze, as though she feared the separation as much as he.

  Words would never be Jack’s strong suit, and though he would try for Lily’s sake, in that moment, he knew there was a far better way to affirm his feelings. Closing the short distance, Jack captured her lips in another kiss, determined to make certain she felt just how deeply he loved her.

  Epilogue

  One Month Later

  Weather was an uncooperative beast. Of course, anyone with sense knew better than to set store in British weather cooperating with one’s plans, but love stripped away all of Jack’s good sense. That said, he was certain that like everything that had happened this Season, the rain was a blessing in disguise.

  The raindrops thundered outside, crashing to the streets and soaking the world in gray, but the Ashbrook’s parlor was dry, warm, and comfortable. Their waylaid picnic had altered, and though they were not blessed with a clear afternoon out in the park, they were surrounded by delicious food, and Lily was cuddled next to him in a manner she would not have employed had they been out in public. Not an awful turn of events.

  The food had been picked over, and Jack sat with a few bits of mending on his lap while Lily read aloud from the latest installment of Vanity Fair, and though Jack had grown to enjoy the story, he found her reading of it far more entertaining.

  Lily was an abysmal narrator. Not that she was unable to read aloud, but rather, she was unable to do so in a consistent manner once the plot drew her in. Lily’s voice dropped away into an incomprehensible whisper as her eyes scanned the page. Then a gasp, and she grabbed at Jack’s forearm. Casting a wide-eyed look at him, she turned her attention back to the page, reading the next sentences aloud at such a rapid pace that Jack was at a loss to follow, but he preferred watching the drama unfold for her than the tale itself.

  Jack chuckled to himself, and his thoughts turned to their future. Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley were bound to arrive in London any day now, and the wedding would follow soon after. The next morning, if Jack had any say in the matter; though there were still plenty that needed to be settled before that blessed day.

  “What is that look for?” she asked as she was wont to do.

  Putting in another stitch in the shirt on his lap, Jack mentioned the last thing that had passed through his mind. “I was thinking about the townhouse.”

  Setting aside the serial, Lily rested her head against Jack’s shoulder. Having her situated thus made it more difficult to do his sewing, though he’d never say so; the pleasure outweighed the inconvenience.

  “I am pleased with the property,” said Lily, as she had many times before.

  “But you prefer the country.”

  “I prefer being at your side, and until the waterworks project is complete, that is in London,” said Lily. “Once it is finished, we can make other plans, but until then, I am quite happy with Chelsea.”

  Jack knew this was sensible, but a sliver of worry wriggled its way under his skin. Lily was used to much finer neighborhoods, and they had the money to secure better lodgings.

  “No,” she said, turning to face him fully. “I know that expression, and I will not allow you to doubt this a moment longer. I have been honest in my feelings on the matter, so there is no reason to fret. My parents will soon return to Bristow to welcome their newest grandchild, so it is foolish for us to move to some posher part of the city when we’d both be much happier settled next to our family.”

  Those words stirred up a torrent of feelings Jack hadn’t expected to strike at that moment. Warmth settled into his chest that had nothing to do with the fire blazing in the hearth, and his heart felt as though it would expand right out past his ribs. Without ever explaining his feelings for them, Lily simply understood that the Byrnes were family and had adopted them as her own—as they had done with her.

  But more than that, the word “family” struck him in a manner it hadn’t before. Perhaps it was talk of her brother’s forthcoming child or the mention of “our” family, but Jack saw the future unfolding before them, and visions of them sitting thusly with their children climbing the furniture and cuddling into their arms filled his thoughts.

  *

  Jack’s eyes weren’t focused on her or the world around them, but Lily watched as the corners of his lips curled, growing into a grin.

  “And what is going through your thoughts now, Mr. Hatcher?” asked Lily with a pert tone and a teasing smile.

  Blinking, Jack’s gaze moved to her, gazing into her eyes with a warm glow. Taking her left hand in his, he raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the ring he’d placed there two weeks prior. “I am very happy.”

  It was a simple statement, but Lily tucked it away in her heart, treasuring each syllable. There was much in her life that Lily was proud of, but she could not think of a thing that brought her as much joy as seeing this good man find happiness.

  Jack was not eloquent in such declarations, and Lily expected he never would be, but there were not words enough to match the glowing contentment radiating from him and the spark of pleasure that came to his eyes whenever he looked at her. In all those silent ways, he told her far better than any words how much he loved her, and Lily would not trade them for an endless supply of saccharine declarations.

  Leaning closer, Lily paused a hair’s breadth from his lips. “I love you.”

  The words were more for herself than for Jack, and he did not return them; he didn’t need to. Day by day, he showed her by action and deed that he loved her as dearly as she did him. Closing the distance, Lily pressed her lips to his, showing Jack the happiness she’d found with him.

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  Regency Love Series

  Prologue

  London

  Spring 1809

  Wilhelmina Ashbrook leaned her head against the alcove wall, stared out the window, and wished she weren’t so wicked. Not that happiness itself was inherently evil, but finding any modicum of joy in the death of her beloved papa certainly earned her the title of wicked.

  Her breath fogged the glass. Through the haze, Mina watched the horses trot past the townhouse. The clopping of their hooves and the clatter of carriages rang through the air. London had its enticements; Mina loved the many musicales, theatres, and other diverse entertainments, but the hustle and bustle of the city stifled her soul. She longed for a breath of clean air, a horseback ride across fields, and a chance to avoid the unpleasantness that came with London society. The country called out to her, begging Mina to escape the noisy confines of Town. Her papa had never understood that sentiment, though she had tried to explain it to him on various occasions.

  Now he was gone, and it was difficult not to hope that her long-standing wish would finally come to fruition. Mina would give anything to have her dear papa alive and healthy, but she was unable to change the past nor stop the desire in her heart that saw the possibility of something good coming from this bleak affair. Mina glanced at her drawings lying on her lap, detailing all the improvements she could soon afford for Rosewood Cottage.

  No matter that her family thought cottage ‘cramped’ and ‘pokey’. To Mina, it was a haven. With blooming honeysuckle climbing the grey stone walls and shutters painted the perfect green to accent their foliage, Rosewood Cottage was the picture of picturesque. Having been her grandmother's favorite retreat, she had willed it to the one person in the family who loved it with equal
fervor, and Mina dreamt of living there.

  If only her grandmother had willed her the funds to maintain the property. Or if only her father had been willing to give his daughter a modest increase in her pin money. However, between the Ashbrook’s immaculate London townhouse and vast estate in Lincolnshire, her father saw no need for his daughter to abandon civilization to reside alone in the wilds of Herefordshire. Now, his refusal to give Mina the necessary financial freedom was a moot point.

  Mina truly was a wicked, wicked woman. For even though the majority of her heart and soul mourned the loss of her beloved papa, lingering in the quiet recesses was the realization that with the reading of her father’s will she would finally have the funds to fulfill her dream. Rosewood Cottage. Sadness still clung to her, but the thrill of that possibility chased away some of the melancholy, giving her a light among the dark despair.

  Finally, Mina would be able to quit her father’s home and set up one of her own. No loving husband and sweet children would fill it, but it would be a home nonetheless. One that she would be free to do with as she pleased. One that allowed her to escape the madness of society when she wished. One that she could decorate and arrange to her delight. Not a borrowed thing she occupied in the interim between childhood and marriage. It would be utterly and completely hers.

  The library door opened, and Mina’s brother entered. He was more than capable of stepping into their father’s shoes, but Mina sensed the responsibility hung heavy on him.

  “Hello, Nicholas,” she greeted, pushing the sketches aside, uncurling her legs, and brushing off her black skirts as she stood. “You just missed tea. I can have Cook prepare a tray if you wish.” She went to call a footman, but Nicholas stopped her.