“What a surprise to see you again so soon!” he exclaimed. “I would not have expected this.”
“Neither would I.” Although she had not stopped thinking about him since yesterday, she hadn’t expected to see him ever again. Now here he was, sitting across from her. “It is quite a coincidence after yesterday.”
“Yes, but it is much more pleasant to be seated with you on a train than being tripped over in a back lane.” The warmth and intelligence in his eyes, as well as a definite twinkle of humor, drew her to him.
“Our meeting was most unusual,” she admitted with a little laugh. “I’ve never met anyone before simply because they knocked me down.”
“Nor have I ever knocked anyone down before. At least not by accident. And never anyone as lovely as you.”
“Thank you,” she murmured softly, and a little shiver of excitement raced through her at his words. Was it only yesterday that his body covered hers? His lips had brushed against her cheek the day before, and she had wished that he would kiss her. Had he wanted to kiss her? Did he remember that part of their encounter? His full lips fascinated her, and she could not stop her eyes from focusing on his mouth.
“I apologize once again for running into you the way I did, Miss Hamilton. I still feel terrible about hurting you. You are not experiencing any ill effects from your fall, are you?”
The genuine concern in his voice touched her. “No, none at all. I assure you, I am quite well. I believe I forgave you yesterday.”
“That you did and most charmingly. So please tell me, what brings you on this journey today?” he asked.
Lisette relaxed somewhat as the conversation turned to a more ordinary subject and she could put aside the memory of this gorgeous man lying on top of her and almost kissing her. At least for the moment. “I am going to see my mother. She’s not feeling well and wishes for me to visit with her for a bit.”
His brows drew together in concern. “Nothing serious, I hope?”
Lisette smiled and shook her head. “No, I do not believe so. My mother . . .” She paused a moment, searching for the most polite way to phrase it. “My mother tends to overemphasize quite minor ailments.”
Quinton Roxbury tilted his head in sympathetic understanding, a knowing smile playing around the corners of his luscious mouth. “Ah . . . I understand. I have an aunt with a similar type of nature.”
“Yes, I am most certain that my mother will be quite recovered by the time I arrive.”
He laughed and the rich sound wrapped around her like a warm, velvet gown. “Well, that is good news.”
Curious, she ventured to ask, “What takes you to Brighton today, Mr. Roxbury? This is not the usual time of year to visit the seaside.”
“No, it’s not, is it? The month of December is a little cold and dreary for most people in general, but I actually enjoy the sea air no matter what the season. However, in answer to your question, I’m going to Brighton on business, not pleasure.”
“I wish you the best of luck with your business then,” Lisette said.
“Thank you very much.” He settled back in his seat.
In the silence, Lisette could not take her eyes off him, and it felt like there were a thousand butterflies in her stomach. Well, she certainly had not overemphasized how handsome he was in her recollections from yesterday. The man was like a golden god from a mythology story come to life and plopped down in front of her. It was most disconcerting. She forced her gaze away from him and out the window
They sat in companionable silence as the train continued its journey, leaving behind the bustling thoroughfares and crowds of London and moving into the placid English countryside.
“I gather you are traveling alone, Miss Hamilton?”
She blinked in rapid succession, realizing he was staring at her. “Yes.”
“I’m a little surprised Lord Waverly would not provide you with an escort or a companion of some sort.”
“My brother-in-law always offers and at times I do travel with one. But I prefer to be on my own,” she explained with a matter-of-fact air. “We Hamilton women are notoriously independent.”
“I’m just beginning to notice that.” He raised a brow at her, his expression one of appreciation.
Flushing a little under his blatant regard, she continued, “I have traveled to Brighton many times before on my own. I’m quite capable.”
“That’s a pity.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Grinning, he attempted to clarify. “I did not mean that it’s a pity that you are a capable woman, for certainly that is a good quality. What I meant to say was that it’s a pity that you are alone.”
She sighed in exasperation, becoming slightly irritated by his attitude. “That statement did not improve upon your last comment in the least, Mr. Roxbury.”
His eyes sparkled with good humor. “I see I am digging myself into a hole and I apologize. What I meant to say, but did so rather clumsily, was that the unfortunate consequence of your being alone deprives someone of the pleasure of your company.”
The ravenous look he gave her made her stomach flip over.
“Oh.” Her cheeks warmed at his compliment and she could not stop the grin that spread across her face. “Well then, Mr. Roxbury, you are forgiven.”
Mr. Roxbury nodded his head in her direction. “Thank you.”
A brief silence descended over the compartment as the train made its way south, the rhythmic swaying of the carriage rather soothing and hypnotic.
“A moment ago when you said ‘we Hamilton women,’ to whom were you referring?” he asked.
“My sisters and myself.”
“I know you have a sister who is married to Lord Waverly. There are more?”
“Three more.”
That gave him pause. “You mean to say that there are five of you Hamilton girls?”
“That is correct.”
“No brothers in the lot?”
“No, just us girls.”
“That is fascinating.” He chuckled a little, as if imagining the prospect of so many sisters. “How does your father stand it?”
“He passed away a few years ago.” From his shocked expression she quickly amended her statement. “Oh, but not from anything we did!”
He laughed and then she did, too, realizing how ridiculous her comment sounded.
With a smile Lisette explained, “I can assure you that we were exemplary daughters in every way. We even assisted him in running the family bookshop.”
“Well, I am relieved to learn that you and your sisters did not bring about your father’s early demise.” He said this in a dry tone, but then began more earnestly, “I am sorry about your father’s passing. My father passed away a few years ago as well, so I understand your loss.”
“Thank you. It is quite difficult to lose a parent . . .”
He quickly changed the subject from the depressing topic of death. “Yet you have a bookshop?”
“Yes, Hamilton’s Book Shoppe,” Lisette explained, proud of her family’s business. “It’s just off Bond Street. Perhaps you have heard of it?”
“The name rings a bell, but I don’t believe I’ve ever been there. However, I shall now make a point of visiting there without delay.”
“Oh, you should! You won’t be disappointed, I assure you. It’s quite a lovely shop and well known for its innovative design and large selection of books. It has become so busy, in fact, that we are thinking of opening another bookshop. My two sisters, Colette and Paulette, manage everything now, but we’ve all helped there throughout our lives and still do.”
“Women running a shop on their own! That’s quite extraordinary. Did your mother work there as well?”
Lisette shook her head. “Oh, no. Mother detested the shop and fled to Brighton at the first opportunity after Father passed away. But we girls love it still.”
“Now I am more curious than ever to visit your shop. It sounds wonderful.”
“Then I extend an invi
tation for you to stop by anytime you wish.”
He gave her a pointed look. “I shall take you up on that offer, Miss Hamilton.”
A little shiver of pleasure raced through her at his words and she lowered her eyes, wondering what it would be like if he visited the bookshop one day while she was there. She was curious to know more about the handsome man across from her.
After a moment she dared another glance at him and asked, “May I ask what kind of business brings you to Brighton this time of year?”
“I am an architect and I have been requested to design a house for a family there.”
“An architect!” she exclaimed in wonderment. She vaguely recalled Henry mentioning yesterday that Quinton had designed something. What was it? She had been so flustered by their meeting she could not remember what Henry had told her. “How fascinating! I don’t believe I have ever met an architect before in my life. What else do you design? Cathedrals? Office buildings? Or strictly houses?”
His face lit up, becoming even more handsome if such a thing were possible, and he seemed genuinely pleased at her interest. “I’ve designed a number of different types of buildings, although nothing as grand as a cathedral. I did design the new art museum that just opened in London. Private homes are my main focus at the moment. Designing houses will just afford me the money to create what I truly wish to build.”
“And what would that be?” she asked. This man surprised her. She had assumed he was a typical London gentleman who spent his life in idle pursuits and being waited upon by others and here he was an industrious soul. And a creative one at that.
He gazed at her steadily, a hint of wonder in his blue eyes. “You are truly interested to know what I want to build?”
Lisette nodded with genuine enthusiasm. “Yes, of course I am interested. I have never had the opportunity to question an architect before.”
He seemed thrilled to confide in her. “Well, I am working on a project now to hopefully create new housing for those in the tenement areas of London.”
“What kind of housing do you mean?”
“Real houses. Not those dilapidated buildings that perpetuate the squalor and filthy conditions the poor live with now. How can anyone improve themselves in such dire circumstances ? How can one get clean while living in a place covered in grime and refuse without access to decent water? I am quite sure you have never visited such areas, Miss Hamilton, nor would I expect you to have. But I can tell you from my experience that these places are overcrowded without basic sanitation or clean water, which only perpetuates diseases and death. We need to tear down these tenement flats and build real homes for these families outside London, where there is more room, fresh air, gardens, and trees. Functional, sturdy, and beautiful houses with proper light and ventilation. A place anyone would want to live in. And not just houses, but an entire neighborhood, a real community.”
Although surprised by the passion of his words, Lisette was captivated by the magnitude of Quinton Roxbury’s ideas. “I think that is the most wonderful thing I have ever heard.”
He looked at her with an expression of awe. “Do you really?”
“Yes,” she admitted readily, filled with excitement at the prospect of his venture.
“More often than not, people tell me I’m mad to take on such a project.”
“They must be the closed-minded type.”
“I admit that I’m pleasantly surprised by your appreciation of my venture. It’s a rare quality in a woman. I’ve found that most women I know have very little interest in building projects.”
She slanted a look at him. “I am not most women, Mr. Roxbury.”
“I can see that, Miss Hamilton,” he said with a look of admiration on his face.
“What you are doing is most worthwhile. I don’t believe you are mad at all.”
Lisette thought of the terrible places she passed while on the train and the desperately hard lives of the people she saw outside the window. “I’ve often imagined how dreadful it would be to live in such dire circumstances, through no fault of your own except an accident of birth. I admit to you that my own family came very close to being in such terrible straits after our father died, and we learned how he had left us in debt. We almost lost the shop, and things could have gone quickly down from there. I shudder to think what could have happened to all of us if Colette had not met Lucien Sinclair when she did. He took all of us in when he married her.”
“I had no idea that you and your family had been through such struggles.” His golden-brown brows drawn into a line of concern against his expressive forehead, he reached out and patted her hand in comfort.
“I’m so sorry.” Lisette withdrew her hand, suddenly embarrassed to have confided in him such intimate family details. She had never even discussed those events with Henry! “Please forgive me. I did not mean to go on so about myself.”
“There is no reason for you to apologize. I understand completely.”
“I have great admiration for what you are trying to accomplish, Mr. Roxbury.” Lisette could not seem to stop from talking. “Most people have a terribly callous attitude toward the poor, blaming them for being in such a state. As if they wanted to live like that or as if it were an easy matter to get out of such circumstances! If the poor worked harder, if they saved more, if they went to church more often, then they would not be in such a terrible situation. But that is not always true, as you obviously know. I agree with you that proper housing would make a world of difference. But aside from a clean living environment, I believe that education is the key to helping people.”
Lisette had never given voice to her opinion on such matters before and surprised herself to find them so well formed.
Quinton Roxbury gave her a look of utter satisfaction. “I’m pleased to know you see it that way, Miss Hamilton.”
“In our own small way, my sisters and I have helped by teaching the young boys who run errands and make deliveries at the bookshop for us how to read. We insist upon it. They cannot collect their wages until they have attended our reading sessions.”
“That is amazing!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm. “I was unaware that your family was doing such a remarkable service. That is most impressive.”
“It’s not much,” Lisette amended, “but it pains me to see a person who cannot read. Perhaps because I spent my life surrounded by books and learned to read at a very young age.”
He nodded in understanding. “Yes, I can see where that would shape your beliefs on reading.”
“We also continue to educate the young women who assist us in the shop. Women and girls are terribly neglected when it comes to education.”
“I can see that you are obviously not one of their number.”
“That pleases you?”
Again, he smiled appreciatively at her. “More than you know.”
Flustered by his approval, she paused a moment before asking, “Have you considered having schools in your community ?”
“Yes, I have, but that is all tied up in the government and politics and the new reform act. Schooling is not compulsory and these children will choose earning a living to sitting in a schoolroom any day. I’d like to have schooling in this neighborhood because it is of the utmost importance. This undertaking requires a great deal of influence and money. However, I hope to make some changes in that arena someday as well. That is the second stage of my plan, to take on a role in the government. But first we have to get the houses financed before we can move forward.”
“Are you having any success with your venture?” she asked.
“Well, that’s taking some time. Most people feel that the poor don’t deserve new houses. As you so eloquently said, most people believe being poor is their own fault. At the moment I’m looking for investors to help finance the actual building of the houses. Which is why I was visiting your brother-in-law when I ran into you yesterday.”
This was most interesting. Lisette had not had an opportunity to ask Lucien about Mr.
Roxbury before she left for the station that day. She would make a point to inquire about him as soon as she returned. “What did Lord Waverly say about your idea? Did he agree to contribute?”
“You know your brother-in-law better than I do,” Quinton countered with a charming grin that sent another wild thrill through her. “What do you think he said?”
Lisette pondered for a moment, thinking of the man who was now more or less the head of her family. When Lucien Sinclair married Colette, he had welcomed all four of her sisters into his home without a moment’s hesitation. Lisette had grown to love him as her true brother. “Lucien is a fair man, a good man, but he is not one to rush into matters. Did he tell you he would have to think it over for a few days?”
“That was exactly what he said!” Quinton exclaimed with a laugh. “You do know him well.”
A crazy feeling of delight that she had pleased him washed over her.
“So, Miss Hamilton, when I see Lord Waverly again next week, what do you think his answer will be?”
She did not hesitate. “I think he will want to help your cause, Mr. Roxbury.”
“That reassures me greatly.” He leaned closer to her. “Could I also presume to count on your sweet nature to whisper a good word in his ear for me and my cause?”
Her heart raced at his proximity. The masculinity that emanated from him threatened to overwhelm her. She fought against a strong desire to reach out and touch his face, to run her fingertips along the edge of his clean-shaven jaw, wondering what it would feel like. “Well, since it is for a good cause, and not simply for your personal gain”—she paused for dramatic effect—“I might be persuaded to assist you.”
He raised his brows, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Might?”
“Yes, I might. I shall have to think about it.” She was flirting with the man. Lisette was not a flirt! Yet she could not help herself. Indeed, she did not feel like herself at all.
“Ah . . .” Quinton tilted his head toward her. “So you leave me to wonder . . . How might I best persuade the lovely Miss Hamilton to do my bidding?”
It Happened One Christmas Page 4
