Lucien rolled his eyes skyward. “You haven’t met Juliette.”
Quinton laughed, for he had gathered from the dinner conversation that the second eldest Hamilton sister was something of a firebrand, but he thought he would like to meet her someday. “Their mother is a bit of a character as well, isn’t she?”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ve met Mrs. Hamilton?” Lucien asked, clearly surprised.
“When I was in Brighton, I stopped by Mrs. Hamilton’s for a visit,” Quinton explained, feeling a little uncomfortable. Earlier he’d led Lucien to believe that he had only met Lisette on the train.
“You and Lisette seemed to have spent a great deal of time together in Brighton.”
“Yes,” Quinton admitted, not meeting Lucien’s eyes. There was no reason to say more.
At that very moment Lisette entered the parlor. “Excuse me, Lucien,” she began in a soft voice, “but Colette would like to see you upstairs for a moment. Something about Phillip crying for you.”
Lucien rose to his feet, as did Quinton. “Pardon me,” Lucien apologized. “It seems I am being summoned by a two-year-old. I shall return shortly.” He hurried from the room, leaving Quinton alone with Lisette.
They stood looking at each other, not saying a word. For a moment it felt as if they were the only two people in the house.
“It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Hamilton,” Quinton finally said. In fact, he was ridiculously happy to see her. When she smiled at him, his heart raced at the sight.
“Lucien mentioned that you would be stopping by today, but I didn’t know if I would get to see you.”
“We were fortunate that we did, weren’t we?”
She nodded and her cheeks colored prettily. Again he fought the desire to draw her into his arms and kiss her. She was the most kissable woman he had ever met.
“Mr. Roxbury . . .” she began with hesitation. “There is something I feel I must tell you.”
Concerned by the worried expression in her face, he took a step toward her. Now he could smell the sweet scent of her. Lavender. He asked, “What is it you wish to say to me?”
“A lady came into the bookshop this afternoon to look at Christmas cards.”
Lisette was acting nervous, wringing her hands together. He could not imagine what had caused her to be so distressed.
She continued, “This lady was very pretty and charming and we spoke for a little while. She asked me my name and asked about my fiancé.”
Quinton refrained from scowling at her reference to being betrothed. The idea of Lisette belonging to another man made him feel more than a little jealous. He wondered if Olivia Trahern was right. Did his possessiveness of Lisette indicate that he was in love with her?
“She told me she was to be married just after the New Year.”
He listened patiently to her speak, not understanding what she was saying or what any of it had to do with him. All he wanted to do was kiss her.
“She asked me if I had ever been to Brighton.”
His eyes narrowed at the mention of Brighton, and suddenly he had a very bad feeling. He stepped closer to her.
Lisette looked almost distraught. “When I told her I had just returned from Brighton, she became noticeably upset. Before she left the store, she told me her name was Miss Tarleton.”
He expelled a long breath. “I see.” But he didn’t. Emmeline in a bookshop? Quinton doubted if the girl had ever read an entire book from start to finish in her life.
“I did not realize it at the time, but I now know that she was your fiancée. When I heard her name at supper, I put it together and realized she was Lady Emmeline Tarleton. Those two sisters who saw us in the curio shop when we . . . when we were about to . . . about to—” Lisette broke off, unable to say it aloud.
“Kiss?” he finished for her.
She nodded, unable to look at him. “I believe they must have said something to Lady Emmeline about us.”
“That’s possible, but nothing for you to worry about.” No doubt Penelope or Priscilla Eaton had made up some gossip about them. He wondered why Emmeline had said nothing to him about it. Then it occurred to him that he had not seen her since he returned.
Lisette continued, “Your fiancée did not say anything to me specifically about it. However, I had the distinct impression that she was not there to buy Christmas cards at all but to seek more information on . . . the situation.”
“It would be the only reason that Emmeline would ever visit a bookshop willingly.”
“I feel terrible to think that she suspects us of kissing.” She paused, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Especially because all her suspicions would be well founded.”
The anguished look on Lisette’s face was more than he could bear. He moved another step toward her. He was so close now. Close enough to kiss her. It was ridiculous, this effect she had upon his senses.
“We shall forget what happened in Brighton,” he said with a more forceful tone than he intended, wishing that he could follow his own advice. “We need never mention it again.”
“Yes,” she nodded woodenly.
He ached to touch her, to embrace her and hold her against his chest. He wanted to soothe the worry from her brow with a soft kiss. Yet he dared not.
“Thank you for telling me. Do not worry yourself about any of this. I shall tend to Lady Emmeline.”
“Thank you.” She nodded and turned to leave the room, whispering, “Good evening, Mr. Roxbury,” before she left.
Quinton stood staring after her for some time, lost in thoughts he never expected to have.
16
Brightly Shone the Moon That Night
Lisette just finished changing into her nightclothes later that same evening when there was a soft knocking on her bedroom door. She tied the ribbons of her embroidered dressing gown together and opened the door to allow Colette to enter.
“Do you mind if I come in?” Colette asked. Her sister walked directly to the divan in front of the mantel and sat herself down, wrapping a thick woolen shawl around her shoulders for warmth. “With the party last night and you being at the bookshop all day, we haven’t had a moment to speak privately since you returned.”
Lisette joined her on the divan near the fire. “What is it you wished to speak to me about?”
Colette gave her an innocent look. “Tell me about your trip. How was Brighton? How was Mother?”
“Fine. Mother is fine, just as we knew she would be.” Lisette sighed. She had not left her mother on the best of terms since they had continued to argue over her engagement to Henry. “She will be here Saturday to stay until Christmas and until the baby arrives.”
“I’ve no doubt of that,” Colette responded with weariness. “What else happened in Brighton?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Lucien just told me that Mr. Roxbury mentioned visiting you at Mother’s house. Why on earth would he come to Mother’s?”
Lisette felt the sting of tears and blinked rapidly. “Oh, Colette. It is the most dreadful mess.”
Her older sister took her hand in hers and squeezed. “I had a feeling something was going on. Tell me.”
“We met by accident the day before I went to Brighton.” She laughed a little at the memory. “He knocked me down in the back lane. I had no idea who he was, yet he had the strangest effect upon me. But I believed I would never see him again. Then the next day we were on the same train, sharing a compartment. The coincidence was remarkable. We spent the trip talking about everything and he told me of his houses for the poor. He is the most amazing man I’ve ever met and we talked easily the whole way. But I let him know from the start that I was betrothed and he told me he was to be married within the month.” Lisette paused. “I thought that was the end of it. Until he showed up at Mother’s the next day. And Mother was the worst. She practically threw the two of us together!”
Colette gasped in astonishment. “She did what?” “Oh, Colette, Mo
ther was horrid. She told me that I should not marry Henry, that I would be making a terrible mistake.”
“Lisette, no!”
“Yes. And she encouraged me to pursue Mr. Roxbury, even though he is to be married.”
“She didn’t!”
“She even arranged for Mr. Roxbury and me to have an intimate supper alone together.”
Stunned, Colette remained speechless for a moment. “I had no idea something like this happened! And what of Mr. Roxbury? What did he think of it?”
“He seemed almost amused by it all . . . But, Colette, he . . . we . . .” She swallowed. “We kissed each other.”
“Oh, my.” Colette bit her lip in worry.
“Yes. And that’s not all.”
Her sister squeezed her hand tightly.
“We were seen kissing, or practically kissing, by Quinton’s friends in Brighton, and I believe they told Lady Emmeline about it. She came into the bookshop today.”
“Good heavens!”
“I don’t know what to do about it,” Lisette whispered.
Colette put her arm around Lisette and rubbed her back in a soothing gesture. Her sister’s voice was calmer than Lisette would have expected as she asked, “What do you wish to do, Lisette? Have you feelings for Mr. Roxbury?”
“No!” she cried in desperation. “Yes,” she then admitted miserably. “I’m not sure.”
“Has he feelings for you?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps. At times it feels as though he does . . .”
“Has he said so?”
She gave Colette a knowing look. “Not with words exactly.”
“This is far more serious than I thought,” Colette whispered. “Does Henry suspect anything?”
Lisette shook her head and sniffled a little. “No. Not a thing. He’s so sweet and loyal and would never expect me to behave in such a manner. I do not deserve his love. Oh, Colette, what if I have caused a scandal? I would die if Lady Emmeline thought I was trying to steal her husband.”
“Well, he is not her husband yet.”
“Colette!” Lisette cried out. “That is just what Mother said!”
“Well, it’s true. It’s scandalous, but better for it to happen before the wedding than after, I would think.”
“For what to happen?”
“For Lady Emmeline to learn that her betrothed has feelings for another woman.”
“But he doesn’t have feelings for me!” Lisette protested.
“He had feelings enough to kiss you when he is promised to another. That alone says something,” Colette stated in a quiet tone. She paused a moment before adding, “I seem to recall hearing a snippet or two of gossip about him before.”
Lisette’s heart raced at the thought. What had Colette heard about Quinton? “What is it? Is it something awful?”
“Not terribly, no. He is rumored to be quite the rake, but I believe he is now involved with a widow.”
Lisette let this bit of news sink in. Quinton was so handsome, of course he would have lots of women in love with him. She wondered about the widow, though. “Who is she?”
“I don’t remember her name. You know, I’m not overly involved in society gossip, but I do pick up information from Jeffrey now and then. The man knows everything about everyone.”
“He knows Mr. Roxbury?”
“I believe they are acquainted but not good friends. Would you like me to ask him?”
“Heavens no!” Lisette protested vehemently. She would be mortified if Jeffrey Eddington knew about her and Quinton. “That would only make Jeffrey question why you were asking, and I don’t want anyone to know what a terrible mess I’m involved in!”
“All right. I won’t say a word.”
Lisette squared her shoulders. “Besides, it doesn’t matter about the widow. He is going to marry Lady Emmeline. Tonight he said we should forget everything that happened.”
“And just what happened?” Colette asked softly.
“I told you. He kissed me.”
“Lisette?” Her sister prompted.
“We kissed so much it was indecent.” Lisette felt her cheeks burn.
Colette leaned her head to one side and eyed her carefully. “You liked it, though.”
“It was beautiful.” Lisette could not deny it. Kissing Quinton was the most extraordinary thing that had ever happened to her.
“And Henry?”
“Henry has never kissed me the way Quinton did. I’ve never felt such things for Henry as I did with—” She broke off. “I’m wicked.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Colette laughed off Lisette’s worry. “Don’t think that I didn’t kiss Lucien like that before we married!”
“But I’m not marrying Quinton,” Lisette said soberly.
“That’s true,” Colette amended quickly. “But perhaps you should marry him.”
“He’s marrying Lady Emmeline in a little over three weeks. Oh, how is it that I’m involved in such scandalous goings-on? I’m terrible—”
“No you’re not!” Colette cried. “You are the most thoughtful, giving, and loving of girls. You think of everyone else first, always putting yourself last.”
“I didn’t this time, though, did I?”
“No,” Colette paused for a moment, deep in thought.
“Perhaps Mother is right. Maybe Henry isn’t the right man for you.”
“You, too?” Lisette wailed in exasperation. “You think I’m making a mistake in marrying him?”
“Yes,” Colette said with a bluntness that startled them both.
Lisette whispered, “Truly?”
“We have all thought so from the start. Henry is a wonderful man, kind and thoughtful. But I don’t believe you love him. It just seems as if you are settling, as if you are afraid to find someone to love with your whole heart.”
“That’s what Mother said.”
“Well, for once I think Mother and I agree on something together. We’ve discussed it before in private. I’m just surprised she said it to you.”
“I am, too.”
“It’s nothing against Henry. It just seems as though you let him choose you and instead of you choosing him. He asked and you agreed. You denied yourself a chance to meet any other prospects by refusing a Season. Henry was safe, a sure thing, and you didn’t have to risk anything. If we honestly believed you loved him, everyone would be thrilled to pieces for you, Lisette.”
Lisette remained quiet, absorbing her sister’s blunt words. “Why does no one believe I love Henry?”
“Do you?” Colette asked, looking her directly in the eyes.
She sighed heavily. “I thought I did once.”
“I’m not an expert in love, by any means, but I just don’t see that there is anything between the two of you. Don’t you remember when Juliette first came back from New York? I knew by looking at her and Captain Fleming together that they were in love with each other. There was a magical air about them. I’ve never seen that with you and Henry. But then again some marriages are happy enough without love. I just don’t know if you would be.”
There was some merit to what Colette said. Had she accepted Henry only because he was the first one to want her? What if she did not even know what love was? What if she was making a dreadful mistake in marrying him? Henry was all she’d known and she had been content enough with him, but now Quinton stirred so many wild emotions within her that it seemed there was no room left for her feelings for Henry.
“Maybe you need to be sure.”
“How do I do that?” Lisette asked. “How did you know you loved Lucien?”
Colette’s expression turned soft and a bit dreamy. “I just knew. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I wanted to be with him every minute and I could not foresee a future without him with me.”
“Oh.” She had not been able to think of anything or anyone but Quinton since he swept her off her feet in the lane, even though she struggled not to think of him. She tried to remain constant in her regard for Henry,
as a true fiancée should. But Quinton Roxbury, with his golden looks and caring heart, invaded her thoughts, her dreams, her very being.
Yet he was not hers. He could not be hers.
He belonged to another and so did she. Wanting him defied every single moral fiber she possessed, every belief she was raised with. Imagining a future with him, desiring his kisses, and wishing to help him in all his endeavors were wrong. Yet the images and thoughts sprang unbidden into her mind all through the day and night. Especially the night.
She could excuse her dreams for she could not control what happened when she slept. While she was awake, however, that was another matter altogether. During the day she fought to subdue the illicit thoughts of Quinton Roxbury that tempted her.
“Lisette, I should tell you that I noticed something between you and Mr. Roxbury tonight. It was obvious when you walked in the front door, you both stood there staring at each other like a great pair of fools.”
Mortified, Lisette covered her face with her hands.
Colette continued, “Whether you love Mr. Roxbury or he loves you is not the real question, for he is not yours to love nor is he free to love you at the moment. It seems to me that the question you must answer first in your heart is whether you love Henry enough to marry him and spend your life with him.”
Colette’s wise words made sense to her. Now Lisette had to figure out if she truly loved the man she’d already promised to marry.
17
Long Lay the World in Sin
Thursday, December 11, 1873
Quinton Roxbury climbed the steps of the Duke of Wentworth’s massive town house the next afternoon. Although the house was impressive by any standard, he thought the place a bit too large and believed the architect should have scaled the size to be more proportional. Mentally comparing and redesigning buildings was a habit Quinton indulged in whenever he saw them. He learned something new from every structure he studied and filed it away for future reference.
After the Wentworth butler showed him in, he walked with more than a little reluctance to the blue drawing room to see Lady Emmeline Tarleton. This was not a visit he looked forward to, but one that was a necessity. Of late he had been rather neglectful of his future bride and he needed to make some reparations.
It Happened One Christmas Page 14
