Whispered Kisses

by Taylor, Janelle

  “I only have your word you know how to use it. Besides, a villain could grab your purse to rob you. Then where would you be? In danger again,” he answered his question.

  “You worry too much, Chad. I’m an expert shot, and I stay alert. Did you find my locket?” she inquired to change the subject.

  He looked disappointed as he told her, “No, but I did post the description and a reward. No word from your rescuer of last night?”

  “None, but that doesn’t surprise me. I doubt he’ll appear at my door. If he does, I surely wouldn’t let a stranger inside. Oh, yes …” she began. “Why didn’t the doorman tell me you were looking for me when I spoke to him last night upon my return?”

  Chad thought a moment, shrugged, and surmised, “Probably we talked to different doormen, else the mystery would have been solved more quickly. As for tonight, I’ll come by for you at half past six. Right now, I need to make a last visit to my office to be certain our arrangements are in order. Unless you have something special you want to do, I think we should all finish packing and rest tomorrow and Sunday. The first day at sea can be busy and tiring.”

  “I remember,” she said, recalling her recent voyage from America. “We certainly have plenty to do. It sounds fine to me.”

  “When Mother returns from India,” he suggested, “you can move in with her and get out of this cramped hotel. I’m sorry the house is closed up and the servants were given time off, but we didn’t know if or when you’d arrive, and she’s to be away for a long time.”

  “You’re very kind and thoughtful, Chad, but this is fine. I wouldn’t want to use her home when she isn’t there.”

  “Well, when we all get back, at least you can go through your family’s things. I’m sure you’ll find items you’ll want to keep. Mother said there are letters, photographs, and such that you should have.”

  She smiled in gratitude. “Thank you, Chad. I’m eager to get them. It’s very kind of your mother to let me go through everything.”

  “Rightfully, family keepsakes belong to you,” he replied.

  Leigh agreed, but said, “She was his wife for years, and I’m grateful she feels this way.” Leigh could not call or think of Lady Fiona Hamilton as Mrs. Webster or as her stepgrandmother. “I’m looking forward to seeing the country estate.”

  “You’ll love it there, Leigh. It’s large and beautiful. But Cambridge is too far and our time too short to travel there before our departure. I hope you don’t decide to sell it; that estate has been in the Webster family for three generations.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t,” Leigh replied.

  “I’ll see you later, my little ward,” he said before leaving. “If you need or want anything, have the doorman bring me a message.”

  “I will, and thank you for everything, Chad.”

  He clasped her hands in his and gazed into her deep blue eyes.

  “This trip will be a wonderful adventure, Leigh. I only wish William and Mother could be with us. He planned it before he died. I’m delighted you’re taking his place. It’s just what we need.”

  Leigh perceived the seductive aura about him and wondered if something would arise to prevent his amorous companion from going, as it didn’t seem proper in the first place. True, Chadwick Hamilton wasn’t blood kin to her, either, but he was her legal guardian and stepuncle. Nor, would they be alone in that exotic setting; Reid and Cynthia, the guide, and their bearers would be present. As if she hadn’t noticed his enticing behavior or was unmoved by it, she responded, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I know it will be marvelous.”

  He released her hands and opened the door. He had told her before, but he repeated, “Be ready at five Monday morning. I’ll be here before dawn to get you and your luggage. We have to be aboard and ready to sail at eight. You are a prompt lady, aren’t you?”

  They both laughed. “If anyone misses the ship, it will be Cynthia,” Leigh remarked. They both laughed at the shared joke, as Reid’s companion, the marquise was known to be always late for the purpose of making a grand entrance.

  Leigh opened a dresser drawer and withdrew the handkerchief that her rescuer had given to her on the wharf to tend her bloody lip. The laundress had washed and ironed it, and the blonde was awaiting the occasion to place it in “Sir Lancelot’s” hand. She hadn’t been able to get him off her mind. He kept jumping around inside her head like a persistent flea looking for the right place to bite or nest. Who was he? What was he? Why had he been so changeable and secretive? Would she see him again? If ever she did, it would not happen before she returned to England … not for months. What if he was betrothed or wed? What if he didn’t live in London and was gone by now? She realized the odds were against another chance meeting.

  Unless he saw the message about her locket and was reminded of his interest in her. What if he came to see her, or sent a message? What should she do? He was a stranger, a moody and mysterious one at that, so he could be dangerous. She should forget him, daydreaming about him could lead her into trouble.

  No, she corrected herself, thinking didn’t imperil one; acting rashly on such thoughts did. She wouldn’t go to the wharf with the hope of sighting him, and she would remain in her suite this weekend as promised.

  Leigh put aside the reminder of her misadventure with the desirable stranger. She was particularly restless today. She was accustomed to daily chores and exercise, activities that kept her busy and in firm condition. She was unused to servants—maids, cooks, laundresses, seamstresses—tending to everything for her. She did not care for a lazy existence. She wanted to stay active, not become someone waited upon hand and foot, or have so much leisure time that it compelled her into mischief.

  For now, the stimulating safari would absorb her energy and thoughts while she mentally adjusted to her new life. Then, perhaps learning the business and settling in here would do so later. If not, she would seek—or follow—her destined path, wherever and whoever it might be.

  Whoever . . . Her dreamy mind echoed and filled itself with the image of the man from last night. Forget him for now, and get busy, Leigh instructed herself, or you’ll be the one missing the ship Monday. If you do, you’ll be stuck here alone until Chad’s return.

  Leigh pinched her hand and warned herself against such wicked thoughts. Beautiful dreams weren’t reality, she knew.

  Leigh began packing until it was time to dress for tonight’s scheduled event at Lord Salisbury’s. It was such an important evening. Lord Cecil Salisbury was a man of many titles: three-time and current prime minister, four-time and current foreign secretary, Third Marquess of Salisbury, Earl of Salisbury, Viscount Cranborne, and Baron Cecil of Essendon. He was an aristocratic statesman of great wealth and power.

  Leigh was looking forward to meeting the prime minister and to having a glorious time. With the fashionable long gloves, she wouldn’t have to worry about the scratches and bruises on her arms showing or have to change her choice of gowns. There was a scratch near her throat where her prized locket had been torn off, but her thick necklace of pearls—a gift from Chad—would conceal it. As she readied herself, she hummed and envisioned this special affair.

  Leigh glanced around the festive ballroom where dancers were moving to the music provided by the group of musicians in one corner. People mingled with a guest list of over a hundred, chatting genially, joking, discussing politics and hunts, and laughing. Others observed the goings-on with keen interest while sipping wine or stronger drinks. And still others nibbled on delectable after-dinner treats. Never had she seen such opulence and elegance, or so many exquisite gowns and costly jewels. Everyone was having a wonderful time, including Laura Leigh Webster.

  They had dined earlier in an assortment of rooms, a meal such as she had never eaten before. She had sat between Chad and Reid, away from the two women who so resented her presence but who were at least well-bred enough to behave themselves at such an important gathering. Afterward, the music and dancing had begun. She had danced with many
men, some married and others available bachelors. Their conversation had been light and cordial and pleasant. Most had given her kind or polite condolences about her grandfather—a man widely known and respected—and queried her future plans. They had chatted about America, England, the queen, and her impending safari. She had received many invitations to dinner, tea, the theater, hunts, and other activities and had responded graciously in each case with a promise to accept the invitation upon her return to London.

  Leigh’s pulse raced from her merry exertions. Her cheeks glowed from the excitement of it all and from the sparkling wine. Without conceit, Leigh knew she looked lovely in her ballgown of creamy satin with its flowing skirt and short train, both embroidered with golden threads in a floral pattern. The bodice was snug, with abundant pleats to give it the desirable fullness between it and the full bottom which accentuated a small waist that did not require the boned and laced corset to achieve an hourglass look. The short sleeves were puffed, with bows attached to the shoulders. The notable décolletage revealed tawny flesh, and a triple strand pearl necklace was fastened about her throat. Dark gold plumes fluttered in the breeze each time she twirled during a dance. When she was still, they rested fetchingly against her wheat-colored hair that was arranged in multiple curls atop her head. From beneath the golden sweepers of her gown peeked bronze kid slippers. Her grooming had been completed with long cream gloves. She was glad the seamstress Chad had recommended was so talented and knowledgeable about proper fashions and flattering colors.

  Chad had complimented her numerous times about her “ravishing” appearance when he came to get her. During the evening, he had beamed with pride and possessiveness when other men did the same. But it was the envious and hateful glares from Lady Louisa Jennings that had convinced her of her success.

  As she chatted with a stout lord with whom she had just shared a dance, Leigh saw the curry-haired, green-eyed Louisa dancing with Chad. She was dressed in a green brocade gown with ivory trim that looked enchanting against her ivory flesh. She was wearing a jeweled clasp in her fiery mane. As always, expensive cream almost concealed the abundance of pale freckles that splashed over Louisa’s nose, cheeks, and back. Her faint golden-red brows and petal-pale lips were darkened by expensive, imported cosmetics. At twenty-six, Louisa was a ravishing woman. She would have to be stunning, Leigh mused, to be the constant companion of the most desired bachelor in London. As if sensing Leigh’s eyes on her, the future countess turned and searched for her. Leigh averted her gaze and focused her attention on her partner once more.

  As the evening passed, Leigh was aware of the vexed looks that Louisa gave to any female with whom Lord Hamilton danced or spoke. She noticed how the petulant woman tried to remain near Chad and tried to discourage any woman from approaching him. Leigh tried not to feel glad each time the flame-haired beauty failed in her futile task. Chadwick Hamilton was too much in demand by the fair sex, tonight and every day for women to succumb to the fear of Lady Louisa’s temper.

  Leigh noticed how dashing he looked in his ivory waistcoat and gold-trimmed trousers—a color scheme that matched her own. She was also aware of what a striking couple she and Chad made.

  Perhaps, Leigh surmised with amusement, the women were vying for the position of Louisa’s replacement. After all, if rumor could be trusted, Chad had stayed with Louisa longer than any of his past conquests. She had heard that Louisa and Chad were “very close,” and she understood what that meant. Everyone seemed to know about the affair, and that disquieted Leigh, who feared men would think she was another of Chad’s conquests. Perhaps, one day, women would be able to behave as they wished, but not yet, not without risking their reputations. Leigh knew she wasn’t a prude because she didn’t feel that physically responding to the man one loved was wrong or wicked in all circumstances but having sex without love was both. At least, that was what her mother had taught her, and she believed it. She knew from experience that life could be short and cruel, and there were sometimes valid reasons why lovers couldn’t wed.

  But that wasn’t the case of Louisa and Chad, or Reid and Cynthia, either. Several of her dance partners had made certain Leigh knew that her guardian was unavailable but that they were eager for her company. From the way Chad’s gaze kept returning to and engulfing Leigh, she was doubtful of the assumption concerning her guardian, and that troubled her.

  Leigh had danced with Chad several times, and he had introduced her to people whom he wanted to make certain she got to know. During one such time, she found herself in the company of Cabinet member Joseph Chamberlain, Britain’s colonial secretary, and a “very good friend” of her guardian’s. Chamberlain was credited with pioneering efforts in educational reform and slum clearance, taking steps to improve housing, and working for the municipalization of public utilities.

  Years ago, the fervent Liberalist had been called a dissenter and an upstart, and had frightened the Conservatives. He had been past Prime Minister Gladstone’s cohort in the House of Commons. He had favored Irish reforms, Home Rule, for a time but had changed his opinions and sided with Conservative leader Lord Salisbury and become one of Salisbury’s followers. Currently he was secretary of state for the colonies and had an avid interest in African affairs.

  After the introductions and his request for her to call him Joseph, he said, “I’m sorry about your grandfather’s death. William Webster was fine man. We dined and hunted together on several occasions.”

  Leigh smiled politely at the lean, narrow-faced man. She noticed how his ribboned monocle made his right eye appear large and stern. She tried not to stare at it as she replied, “You’re very kind, sir. I only wish I had known him better.”

  “Do you plan to remain in London with us?” Chamberlain asked.

  Leigh was warm and weary from her exertions on the dance floor, from her attempts to behave correctly, and from the heady wine. She cooled her glowing cheeks with her fan as she replied, “I haven’t made any plans yet, but it appears I will stay if all goes well.”

  “Of course you will,” Chad injected, grinning at her. “What could possibly go wrong or change your mind? Nothing, my dear Leigh.” When she smiled in appreciation, he continued. “It would be a crime to allow such a lovely jewel to escape our country. Besides, I’m looking forward to teaching you all about the business you inherited, and to working with you. You aren’t a woman who’s afraid of a challenge or a change in her life. You’re much too brave, confident, and intelligent to let anything defeat or trouble you.”

  “Come now, Lord Hamilton,” she teased. “You know men do not care to have women intruding on their business affairs.”

  “I don’t intend for you to intrude, Leigh,” Chad came back. “But working as partners will be most intriguing and delightful, most stimulating. Don’t you agree, Joseph?”

  The colonial secretary removed his monocle and slipped it into his pocket before he answered. “I’m certain it will be. You may not know it, Miss Webster, but I’m a fighter for the rights and freedoms of everyone, including the female sex. If you’re capable of learning how to run Webster International—and Chad seems to have unshakable confidence in you— why shouldn’t you do so?”

  “She has many talents, Joseph, and I’ll teach her the rest. I was thinking of investing in the Uganda Railroad if it looks promising when I reach East Africa. What do you know about it?” Chad inquired, abruptly altering their line of conversation.

  The older man responded, “I think the railroad should pay for itself, Chad. Our friend and leader Lord Salisbury has pushed the concept for years. However, it could be a waste of money if defense of the interior is his motive rather than expansion and exploration. Ever since Uganda was made a protectorate in ’90, several politicians have been determined to open the way to exploit rather than colonize the area and draw on her abundant resources for the good of the empire. It’s my hope they don’t use the same methods Cecil Rhodes did to get his clutches on Zambesi. Excuse me—Rhodesia, it’s called now.
We don’t need more trouble in our colonies.”

  Chad and Leigh noticed the bitterness in his tone. It was no secret that Chamberlain was still stewing over the infamous Jameson Raid last December against the Boers in South Africa. There was something about Chamberlain that made Leigh uneasy and mistrustful. She observed him closely.

  “Rhodes did do a lot of good work there, Joseph,” Chad said. “He’s become a millionaire with his gold and diamond fields. I wouldn’t mind succeeding in that grand a fashion.”

  “Yes, but he’s caused a great deal of trouble among the Boers, Germans, and the natives. He’s been forced to resign as prime minister of the Cape Colony because of that Jameson business. I’m fortunate he hasn’t dragged me down with him, not yet anyway. I warned him to hold back his attacks until it was clear they were plotting against us. He claims he telegraphed Jameson not to make that raid in December, but the lines apparently had been cut and Doc never received his message. If Parliament and the queen don’t believe their claims that they went into thwart a revolution, I don’t know how this nasty situation will work itself out. He’s returned to the colony to ward off new trouble with the Matabele tribe. I dare say that neither matter is settled, and they won’t be without more bloody conflicts. Don’t tell me that is where you’re heading?”

  “Heavens, no, Joseph. I’m taking Leigh and friends to East Africa. As far as I know there aren’t any warring Zulus or Matabeles in our newest protectorate. Those Zulus slaughtered thousands of Britains on their rampage. I certainly wouldn’t place Leigh or any of my party in that kind of danger. What I have in mind is hunting and sightseeing. I hear the game and landscape in that area are splendid. Leigh and I are looking forward to our adventure.”

  Chad smiled at his ward before disclosing, “While we’re there, I want to check out a few business ventures: perhaps with ivory, hides, crops, gold, and diamonds. There’s also a big tourist trade blooming like a tropical flower. Safaris have become the very thing. Imagine what a luxurious hotel could earn there, not to mention the sale of garments and trinkets from native materials. The possibilities are endless. I could have cloth and skins shipped to our mills here, native garments made, then shipped back to sell to all those impressionable British females who want to bring back a piece of Africa to show off to friends. With the interior being opened up and the railroad moving along swiftly, it’s get involved now or be too late. The first man to pluck that exotic flower will be rich and famous. And I must admit it would be exciting to furnish animals or trophies for the Geographical Society and to have my name on little plaques beneath dangerous beasts on display.” He chuckled, then winked at Leigh.