Scarlet Kisses

by Tish Westwood

  “Yes, you do.” Violet nodded while watching Alyssum’s blush grow redder. “Who was it? It wasn’t someone bad, was it?”

  “Yes, it was,” Alyssum gushed out. “It was horrible, horrible, horrible. I never want to speak of last night again.”

  “All right.” Violet nodded, but Alyssum could see her sister was not going to give up on finding out who the man was.

  Alyssum quickly stepped up the last three steps and began walking down the hall to her room.

  “How about a ride?” Violet called out.

  Alyssum paused then slowly turned. She tilted her head, contemplating.

  “A nice ride in the park,” Violet coaxed.

  Alyssum smiled then nodded. “That sounds perfect. Thank you.”

  “I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes.”

  Alyssum nodded and walked the rest of the way to her room.

  She closed the door behind her and let out a long breath. Raising her hand, she touched her lips. She closed her eyes and saw her mystery man in black kissing her. Her eyes opened in a flash before her mind showed him revealing himself as Robert. Robert. With an aggravated sigh, she pushed the thought of Lady Brook’s ball from her mind and began making her way to her room to change into her riding dress. Riding always cheered her up. Nothing could upset her when she was galloping, but for now she would have to settle for a trot through Hyde Park. When she got home she would gallop over the family’s estate.

  She walked to the corner of her room and rang the bell, calling Meg, her maid. She stood patiently, waiting. Her gaze turned to her wardrobe. Shoved at the back was a white box filled with a scarlet dress, black mask, black stockings, black gloves and one garter. Her brow creased as she remembered discovering one of her garters missing. She felt her cheeks heat as she remembered Robert grabbing her leg, his hand caressing over her thigh. Had he taken it? Did he have her garter?

  Taking a deep, calming breath, she turned towards Meg as she walked into the bedroom.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “My riding dress, please,” she instructed Meg. Meg nodded and walked over to the wardrobe.

  Shaking thoughts of Robert away, Alyssum decided that the kiss was nothing.

  He probably hadn’t even given the woman he had kissed on the balcony a second thought.

  Life would go forth, her plans of having a family would continue and the night on the balcony would fade. All she had to do was stay away from Robert.

  Sitting in his quiet study with the morning sun shining through the open window, Harry frowned at the letter he was holding. After rereading it again, he leaned back in his seat and shook his head. “He’s finally lost it.”

  Leaning his elbow on his desk, he rested his chin on his fist and stared down at the letter Robert had sent him.

  Harry,

  I need your help. I think I’m in love. Save me.

  Robert.

  “The season has just begun,” he muttered, exasperated.

  “What?” Jaz asked as she stepped into his office.

  “Robert’s already gotten into trouble. I think,” he muttered the last bit.

  “What did he do?” She stepped up before his desk. Her hair was unbound and falling wildly about her as usual.

  “He says he’s fallen in love.” He handed Jaz the letter and noticed the dirt under her nails as she took it from him. “What do you think?” he asked after she read it and handed it back.

  “You should save him. He’s your best friend and he needs your help. You should go.”

  Harry squinted his eyes up at his little sister. There she stood, her hair a mass of tangles. Her lady’s maid was going to growl when she saw the mud on the hem of Jaz’s white skirts.

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked, suspicious.

  “Of course not,” she gushed.

  Harry grumbled, not believing her. “I’m not leaving you here by yourself so you can get into mischief.”

  Jaz deflated. Harry smiled. “Get back to your lessons,” he instructed.

  “Stupid Paris, stupid life,” she grumbled as she stomped from the room.

  Harry chuckled as he watched Jaz leave. Left alone again, he reached over for a piece of paper, dipped his pen into the ink and began writing back to Robert.

  Robert finished drinking the tankard of ale and then slammed the cup down on the table. Jackson and Tucker stared at him and exchanged a look.

  “What?” Robert snapped over the loud crowd in the tavern.

  Jackson began shaking his head when Tucker announced, “You’re no fun anymore. It’s been a week since you were kicked in the bollocks. You should be up and having fun again, but no, you get drunk, you grouch and grumble under your breath and then you fall asleep.”

  Jackson cleared his throat. “Why don’t you go see Harry’s family? They always cheer you up,” he suggested.

  “No,” Robert grumbled. “I wrote to Harry three days ago. He should be here soon.”

  “Good, maybe he’ll slap some sense into you,” Jackson mumbled.

  “More.” Robert waved his empty cup to the barmaid. When she came strutting over, Robert didn’t pay her any attention, didn’t even look at her. She filled his cup and left. Jackson and Tucker exchanged another worried look. “Harry better get here quick,” Tucker muttered.

  “What?” Robert snapped.

  “I said Harry better get here quick,” Tucker yelled across the table to him. “You bumbling tosspot.”

  Robert grouched then drank another cup. Tucker and Jackson rolled their eyes and slouched in their seats. It was going to be another boring night of watching Robert get foxed then carrying him home. Jackson didn’t know who the woman Robert called Scarlet was, but if he ever met her he had some words to say to her. Whatever she had done, she had broken his friend. The man wasn’t himself. He didn’t smile. He didn’t joke. He didn’t pinch the barmaids anymore. Jackson didn’t like what was happening to his friend.

  At two in the morning in the quiet streets of London, Jackson and Tucker took Robert home, Jackson grunting under Robert’s weight. Their friend was foxed to the gills, singing a tune that didn’t exist and was slung over Jackson’s shoulder. Tucker opened the gate to Robert’s townhouse and Jackson stumbled up the steps.

  “Easy.” Tucker held his hands out behind them.

  “I got him,” Jackson grunted.

  “’E got me,” Robert slurred.

  “Shut up, Lambert.” Jackson slammed his fist on the front door. A minute later, the old butler opened the door, unsurprised to see his master slung over Jackson’s shoulder. Otis waved them in. Jackson walked into the house and up the staircase. His knees lowered with each step under Robert’s weight. Finally reaching the top of the staircase, Jackson turned right and walked to the end of the hall. Tucker quickly reached around them and opened the door wide.

  He threw Robert onto the large bed where he bounced, grumbled and fell asleep. Tucker and Jackson moved in, removing his boots, cravat and vest. Otis walked around them, carefully picking up the items of clothing that had been thrown around the room.

  Tucker pulled Robert’s shirt open and Jackson rolled him over to pull it from his body. As Robert rolled onto his stomach Tucker and Jackson both shifted their gazes away from his scarred back. Throwing the shirt behind them, they stepped back and chucked the corner of the quilt over him. Otis picked up the discarded shirt.

  “When is Harry getting here?” Tucker whispered.

  “Gentlemen,” Otis spoke up behind them. They both turned and faced the butler. “There was a message delivered from the Earl of Leighton today,” he informed them.

  “What? Give it to me.” Jackson held out his hand.

  “Ah.” Otis looked to his unconscious master.

  “Come on, man, we haven’t got all day.”

  The butler scurried from the room to retrieve the letter.

  “We kind of do have all day,” Tucker muttered, standing beside Jackson.

  Jackson turned
his gaze to Tucker and with one shove pushed him to the floor.

  “Hey,” Tucker whined but stayed down. At two in the morning, they were both exhausted. Tucker settled on the plush rug before the bed and closed his eyes as Jackson sat himself in a seat by the window. Otis, the gray-haired butler, scurried back in holding the letter, handed it to Jackson, bowed and then left.

  Jackson tore open the letter and read. “What?” he snapped and read it again.

  Robert,

  It’s time you saved yourself. My felicitations on falling in love.

  Harry.

  “You’re in love?” He looked to Robert’s sleeping form. “You don’t even know her. You call the woman Scarlet because you don’t know her real name. You spent less than five minutes with her,” he argued.

  “Will you be quiet,” Tucker grumbled and rolled over to his side.

  Jackson sighed and slouched deeper in his seat. He placed the letter on the small table beside him. “We men are going to find this Scarlet,” he vowed for the sanity of his friend.

  Violet took another glance at Alyssum. Her worry grew stronger. Now a week after Lady Brook’s masquerade, Alyssum was acting stranger. Quieter, more withdrawn, she always seemed to be keeping herself busy or staring into space.

  Violet had once again tried to get the name of the gentleman who had kissed her, but Alyssum had become angry and even more tightlipped. Whoever the man was, he had ruffled Alyssum’s feathers worse than Robert ever had.

  As she sat on the window seat in the front parlor, occasionally glancing out the window to the passing carriages, she took another look at Alyssum and frowned at what she saw. There Alyssum sat with a faraway look and her fingertips lightly touching her lips.

  “Alyssum?” she called and watched Alyssum jump in her seat.

  “Yes?” She looked to Violet.

  “Have you heard anything from Jaz?”

  Alyssum smiled and nodded. “She has written that she hates Paris, she hates us, she hates the grey, itchy uniform she has to wear and that when she comes back she’s going to cause more havoc than she ever did before.”

  “Oh, my.” Caroline rested her embroidery on her lap and looked up at Alyssum.

  “Perhaps we shouldn’t have sent her.”

  “She has only been there for a few days. Give her time.”

  “What were you like when you first got there?” Violet asked, curious.

  “Quiet. I was terrified to be away from home and with a group of girls I didn’t know. And most of them spoke French, so I had no idea what any of them were saying.”

  Violet chuckled and raised the book of poetry Robert had given her. Because she was a woman, she wasn’t allowed to read most poetry that intrigued her. She wasn’t even allowed in the stores where she could purchase them, so Robert bought them for her.

  While half-reading the book, she took quick peeks at Alyssum. She needed to see some life in her sister again, some color in her cheeks. Knowing the perfect way to accomplish that, she lowered the book to her lap and turned to her mother. “Perhaps we should invite Robert to dine with us this evening?”

  Caroline looked up with a smile. “Wonderful idea. I’ll write to him now. Maybe he can get Alyssum talking again.” She chuckled as she stood and walked over to the small writing table.

  Violet smiled at the horrified expression on Alyssum’s face. It was already working. Raising her book, she read happily.

  Don’t panic. Don’t scream. Don’t run away, Alyssum told herself. Act calm, poised, composed. It’s only Robert. Just annoying, unbearable, great-kisser, delectable-body Robert. Alyssum groaned in ire. It was only a matter of time before she saw him again. He was almost a part of the family, there was no escaping that.

  The clock ticked too loudly for Alyssum to handle. Her hands were clenched together in her blue gown. She sat on the settee beside her mother while Violet sat reading before the fire.

  “Maybe he isn’t coming,” Alyssum broke the silence. “He’s twenty minutes late.”

  “He said he was coming,” Caroline answered with a frown of annoyance at Robert’s tardiness. Dinner was getting cold.

  “He’s usually on time.” Violet lowered her book and turned to face them.

  “Maybe he forgot,” Alyssum said. “Something may have distracted him…” Her stomach felt suddenly ill at the thought. Something distracting him…a woman?

  “Alyssum, are you all right?” Violet asked as she stood and walked over to a suddenly pale Alyssum. Alyssum nodded but felt like she wanted to be sick. She had never cared what Robert did before now. Was he doing what he had done to her to another? She felt the settee shift as her mother stood with a huff.

  “I’ll send a message,” Caroline said as she walked out of the room.

  Alyssum hardly heard her, her mind was busy torturing her. “Stupid kiss,” she muttered with anger, before she realized that Violet stood before her.

  Violet opened her mouth to ask why she was thinking about a kiss when a sudden noise in the foyer stopped her. Both she and Alyssum walked across the room towards the entrance hall. The noise grew louder with each step. They both stood shocked at the sight of Harry holding up a drunken Robert.

  “What happened?” Caroline gushed, looked up to an angry Harry. “When did you arrive?”

  “Just now.” Harry grunted and straightened a swaying Robert. “I found him on the front stairs.”

  “Such a good fellow,” Robert muttered while trying to stay on his feet. His hair was a disheveled mess, his cravat was slung around his neck untied and his waistcoat hung open.

  “Up the stairs,” Harry ordered.

  Robert turned and then tilted his head to look up the staircase. He turned back to Harry with a laugh. “Are you serious?” He pointed his thumb at the stairs behind him and laughed before he swayed off to the side and hit the floor. Harry rolled his eyes, Caroline gasped and Violet bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Alyssum stood stunned. Harry moved forward and grabbed Robert’s arm. “Alyssum, help.”

  Her eyes widened. Violet nudged her forward with a push to her back. She moved perfunctorily and reached for Robert’s other arm. She bent low beside Harry and they dragged Robert to his feet. He came up with a chuckle and slung his arms over both Harry and Alyssum’s shoulders.

  “Alyssum.” Robert looked down at her with red eyes. She looked up at him reluctantly.

  “Yes?” she asked in a crisp voice.

  “Ah, I know that tone. Someone’s mad.” He grinned and leaned more into her. She grunted under his sudden weight and then sighed in relief as Harry pulled him back towards him, taking the weight off her.

  “You know this girl used to walk through fire for me,” Robert announced.“Literally,” he shouted.

  “Robert, quiet,” Harry warned him. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

  “No, I’m being serious.” Robert leaned close to Harry to whisper, “I saw it.”

  Alyssum stood quietly by Robert’s side with an arm around his waist. She had no idea what he was rambling about but she was getting infuriated with how her body was responding to his close proximity. She felt annoyingly happier by his side. His arm held her shoulder and his body kept swaying and bumping against hers.

  “Alyssum?” he whispered and leaned back towards her. His face close to hers, he whispered, “Should I tell them?”

  “Tell them what?” she said, confused.

  “That you lit the match.” He grinned.

  Alyssum frowned before realization struck her. “You are drunk and I advise you to keep your mouth shut,” she snapped. She watched with irritation as he grinned and turned back to Harry.

  “Harry,” he whispered.

  “Enough, Robert,” Harry ordered. “Phillip,” he called and the butler came into the foyer. “Take Alyssum’s side and help me get him to the guest room.”

  Phillip nodded and came forward. He had no struggle holding onto Robert and pulling him up the staircase with Harry.

  Alyssum watched utte
rly bemused as they took Robert upstairs. Violet stepped up beside her. “What was he talking about?” she stared at Alyssum.

  “About what?” Alyssum asked while keeping her gaze on Robert swaying on the staircase.

  “You lighting the match?” Violet arched her brow. “About fire.”

  “I have no idea,” she replied in a formal, proper tone of voice and made her escape towards the dining room.

  “What a mess,” Caroline spoke quietly while she and her family ate in the well-lit dining room.

  “What was he doing on the front steps?” Violet asked, looking to Harry who was digging into his dinner. He looked up, realizing the question was directed at him.

  “Probably tripped on the stairs and was too drunk to get back up,” he muttered. “Or maybe he walked here and was taking a rest.”

  Violet shook her head with a smile.

  “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Caroline asked. “I’m glad you are here, please don’t misunderstand me. But you said you wouldn’t be attending this year’s season.”

  “I got a letter from Mr. West moments after I had already received one from Robert.”

  “What did they say?” Violet asked.

  “They were of a private nature.”

  “Robert? Private?” She laughed.

  Harry sighed then replied, “Robert isn’t well.”

  Alyssum, who had been sitting quietly all during the meal, finally spoke. “What do you mean he isn’t well?”

  “I don’t mean not well in health. I mean he’s not well...in the heart.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Harry muddled over his words until Alyssum snapped, “Just spit it out.”

  “He has informed me he is in love,” he announced. The table went quiet. Shocked silence filled the room.

  “Robert is in love?” Violet asked incredulously.

  Alyssum felt herself grow numb. Robert was in love. With whom? Who was the little tart?

  “With whom?” Violet asked.

  Harry exhaled and leaned back in his chair. “That’s where things become…difficult. He doesn’t know who she is.”