And this was just the start. Eventually he could get more homes built, and when he could get elected to Parliament he could make a real difference. He would be able to make sweeping changes and reforms then.
Walking along the crowded street toward his waiting carriage, he noted the heavy gray sky threatening to snow once again. There was a definite chill in the air and he increased his pace. Pulling his scarf up around his neck to ward off the cold, he rounded the corner of the street. Distracted, he did not watch where he was walking. He crashed into someone, a woman. He grabbed her delicate shoulders to keep her from falling down.
“Lisette!” he cried in surprise when he realized it was she. “Miss Hamilton.” He amended as an afterthought. “Forgive me. Are you all right?”
Her sweet laughter warmed his heart as he held her by her arms, her hands tucked into a white ermine muff. She gazed up at him with wide eyes full of amusement.
“Mr. Roxbury,” she continued to laugh. “We really must stop meeting this way!”
“We do tend to run into each other unexpectedly, don’t we?” He smiled at her, joy surging through him at the sight of her. Her face was so beautiful it almost took his breath away. Her green eyes sparkled with an inner light, as if she were brimming with a most delicious secret. The hood of her black cloak trimmed with white fur framed her face prettily.
“It’s beginning to feel ridiculous how we meet like this.” She laughed again.
“Yes, I suppose it is.” It was now the fourth time they had met by utter chance. He wondered at the odds of such coincidence. Or good fortune. Or fate. Whatever it was called, he was grateful for their crossing paths. He was simply happy to see her.
People brushed by them as they stood immobile in the middle of the walkway. He realized he still held her. With great reluctance, Quinton released her shoulders from his grasp, his gloved hands sliding slowly down the length of her arms. They stared at each other.
“It is good to see you, Miss Hamilton.”
“It is good to see you, too, Mr. Roxbury.”
“May I ask where you are headed this afternoon?”
A cloud crossed her face and she seemed flustered and a little embarrassed. “Oh . . . I . . . that is,” she stammered awkwardly, her eyelids fluttering. “I am meeting Henry.”
Quinton forced a smile he did not feel. “That’s wonderful. Where are you meeting him?”
Surprised by his response, she answered slowly, “I was on my way there just now. It’s Bradbury’s Jewelry Shop, just around the corner.”
“I would be honored to meet your fiancé.” He added with a sly smile, “And to be fair, you met my fiancée.” Honestly he was interested in finally seeing the solicitor who had claimed Lisette’s heart to the dismay of her mother. “May I walk with you?”
Lisette seemed to answer without thinking. “Yes, of course, if you wish.”
He extended his arm to her. “Then shall we?”
She took his arm. A sudden gust of wind swooshed by, causing her black velvet cloak to swirl around her. Neither shivered from the wintry blast, so busy were they basking in the warm glow of each other’s company. They walked the brief distance in the direction of the jeweler’s shop. When they reached the storefront, Lisette hesitated.
“Shall we go in?” she whispered.
Her nervousness at his intention to meet her fiancé intrigued him. What had she to be so anxious about? Was the man disfigured in some way? Was he old and decrepit? Quinton had no idea what to expect as he opened the door to the jewelry shop and held it for her.
“Miss Hamilton! Miss Hamilton!”
They both turned at the sound of her name. A young boy hurried along the pavement toward them. Lisette seemed to recognize him and moved in his direction. Pausing to watch, Quinton closed the door to the shop.
“What is it, Jeremy?” she asked, her face concerned.
The youth took a big gulp of air to catch his breath. “I have a message for you from Mr. Brooks.” Reaching into his pocket, he produced a folded paper and handed it to Lisette.
Lisette read the note quickly, her expression revealing nothing. She shoved the paper into her reticule and pulled out a coin. Giving it to the boy, she said, “Thank you, Jeremy.”
He grinned happily at the tip he received. “No message in return?”
“Please tell Mr. Brooks that everything is fine.”
The boy tipped his cap to her. “Thank you. Good afternoon, miss.” He raced off in the direction he’d come from.
Quinton gave her a quizzical look but had a feeling he already knew what the message contained. “Not bad news, I hope?”
She sighed and answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “It seems Henry has been unexpectedly detained by an emergency with a client and must travel to Portsmouth this evening.”
“And he will not be able to meet you here,” Quinton stated the obvious.
“Apparently not.” She squared her petite shoulders.
“Well, then. I suppose I shall return home.”
“I will take you in my carriage.”
She protested politely, her nervousness returning again. “Oh, that won’t be necessary, Mr. Roxbury.”
“I insist. It has grown colder and the wind is picking up. I won’t take no for an answer, Miss Hamilton. Besides . . .” He offered her a cryptic smile. “I have an ulterior motive for wanting you to accompany me.”
He watched her green eyes widen.
“I have some news to share about my building project and would also like your opinion of some of the new plans I have in mind.”
She relaxed visibly at his words and nodded in agreement. “Then it would be my pleasure.”
Another strong gust of wind whipped around them, almost knocking Lisette’s slight frame over and blowing her fur-trimmed hood off her head. Instinctively he reached out to steady her and she grabbed hold of him. The weather was becoming decidedly worse. He drew her near him in protection.
“We should hurry,” he said.
He held on to her hand and guided her quickly back up the street toward his waiting carriage. Once they were safely ensconced within the well-appointed vehicle, he instructed his coachman to take them to the planned site for his houses, just outside the city. In spite of the dreary weather, Quinton was not quite ready to take Lisette home now that he had her to himself.
“How would you like to see where we’re going to build the houses before I take you home?” he asked her.
“Oh, that would be wonderful!” she exclaimed.
“Good, because that is where we are headed.” He settled back in the opposing seat, facing Lisette. “Are you disappointed that your fiancé could not meet you?”
Lisette inclined her head slightly. “A little.” She paused before adding, “We were to have my engagement ring fitted properly this afternoon.”
He did not like to think of Lisette wearing this Henry Brooks’s ring and was oddly satisfied that even now she still could not wear it. “Although I am pleased by this unexpected chance to see you, I am sorry that you have been let down.”
She did not meet his eyes. “Thank you.”
“I have good news that I think you shall be glad to hear,” he began in an attempt to brighten her mood. “I have raised enough capital for construction to begin on the new housing development. Building will definitely start in the spring.”
Her entire expression transformed into one of absolute delight. “Oh, how wonderful! That is exciting news!” She clapped her hands together.
“Isn’t it?” Thrilled by her response to his news, he had known instinctively that she would share in his enthusiasm. It was the reason he had wanted to tell her. Now having told her, he fought the impulse to embrace her. Instead he described to her the details of his meeting with the housing commission that afternoon. “And I took to heart your ideas about education. I’ve designed a schoolhouse for the neighborhood as well.”
“You are going to vastly change people’s lives for the better, Mr.
Roxbury. Do you realize that?” Her voice was incredulous and tinged with awe.
“That is the point. The poor need to have their lives changed in a dramatic way; otherwise nothing would ever change. A real house gives a person a sense of dignity and comfort and makes for a better community overall and benefits everyone in the long run. But the change needs to occur. It doesn’t matter who does it as long as it gets done. The credit does not belong to me.”
“But it was your idea to build these houses in the first place,” she insisted. “I think what you are doing is quite inspirational. I would be proud to help you in any way I could.”
Quinton remained quiet. Lisette’s reaction to his work pleased him. In such a short time Lisette had taken an interest in what he did and found his work commendable, even laudable. It was one of the reasons he found her so attractive. Whereas Emmeline . . . Emmeline had no interest in anyone other than herself.
“I would love to have your assistance. We are about to form a committee to help with finalizing the details and selecting the families that will be the first inhabitants of this neighborhood. I think you would be an asset to such a cause, Miss Hamilton.”
She shook her head and a soft color suffused her cheeks. “Oh, no. Not me. I’ve never done anything like that. I couldn’t possibly.”
“You would be the perfect person for such an endeavor,” he insisted. “You are intelligent and caring and you have common sense. Besides, you are already part of a committee.”
“What are you talking about?” She gazed at him quizzically.
“Your family. Do you or do you not decide things together with your sisters about what you will do as a group or what you will do at the bookshop?”
“Well . . . yes we do,” she admitted with a bit of reluctance. “But that is completely different.”
“No, it isn’t really. It’s the same principle, only more official. On the housing committee there would be other people working with you, coming up with ideas, solving problems, and making decisions. That’s how it works. You have well-formed ideas and would be a wonderful addition. You inspired me with the idea of creating a neighborhood, not just homes. Adding a school and a church. Besides, you do such remarkable service already by teaching those boys in the shop how to read. I think you should consider it.”
A look of intrigue came over her pretty face, and he knew he was winning her over.
“Do you truly think so?”
“Absolutely.”
“I shall give the matter some thought,” she promised with a smile.
He admitted, “I’ve already submitted your name.”
“You have?” her voice squeaked a bit in surprise.
“Yes.”
The carriage came to a stop, and Quinton glanced out the curtained window. “We’re here.” He extended his hand to her. “Come with me.”
Lisette took his hand and he helped her down from the carriage. Being a gentleman had its advantages because he loved that he had such a good excuse to touch her. Braving the cold, together they walked hand in hand across the hard ground. The sky above was heavy with thick gray clouds, and the wind continued to whip around them in unexpected bursts. This area of undeveloped land on the western edge of the city was covered with many large trees and encompassed empty fields and meadows.
“It’s so pretty here,” she said, taking in the expansive view from atop a small rise they climbed.
“Isn’t it?” A feeling of contentment filled him being there with her, simply holding her hand on a cold afternoon.
“Is all of this land yours?”
“Well, it’s not mine exactly, but yes. There are about twenty or so acres that we will use to construct the houses and other buildings on.” He could easily picture the houses there already and it filled him with satisfaction.
“How good it will be to move some of those families out of the city, to live here, in their own homes.”
“In my view, poverty only begets more poverty. There has to be a way to break the cycle. Hopefully this will do it. Most important, the families we select to live here will have access to clean water, which they don’t get in the city and what causes much of the diseases that run so rampant through the slums. Each home will have its own garden so they can grow their own food. And they will have a beautiful space to move and breathe in. There will be a church over there and the main street of the village will run along here, with shops and a school.” He pointed with his free hand. His other hand still grasped Lisette’s. He noted with pleasure that she had not pulled away from him.
“What about employment?” she asked, her face alight with interest. “How will they earn a living and support themselves?”
Impressed with her intelligent questions, he answered, “That will be the goal of the selection committee to choose families with some sort of trade skills to start with. We will also train some of them to work in the stores and shops. We are only a short train ride into the city, and they can seek employment there as well. They will live in the houses free to start and eventually begin to pay rent, with a possibility to owning the home at some point. All the rent money we collect will go back into improvements on the houses and the community in general.”
“This is quite an enormous undertaking you’ve begun, Mr. Roxbury. Do you really think this will work?”
“I have people telling me I’m crazy to attempt this, stating that a venture of this magnitude will never succeed. They tell me it is destined to fail. But how can we not try? I think they are wrong and it will be successful. If it turns out to be an abysmal failure, then I will know I was wrong. And I would have lost a lot of money. However, I can’t help but believe that something good will come of all this.”
“Has anything like this been done before?” She looked up at him, the expression on her pretty face full of wonder and admiration. Quinton’s heart skipped a beat.
“Not that I am aware of.”
“What of the children?”
“What about them?”
“Schooling is not compulsory as of yet, although there is talk that it will be eventually,” Lisette said. “But I think it should be a requirement of this community that the children living in the houses here, both girls and boys, must attend school every day.”
“I agree with you on that. Their education is of the utmost importance. Ignorance only perpetuates poverty. We’ll see to it that schooling is a mandatory part of living in the community.”
“What shall you call it? This community?”
“I have no idea.”
She smiled, slanting a look up at him. “How about Roxbury Park?”
“I would never seek to be so vain as to name it after myself,” he said, laughing. “And what if it should be a dismal failure? Then my name will be associated with it forever!”
Lisette laughed lightly with him. “Yes, I see your point.”
He loved the sound of her laughter, so sweet and clear. What was it about her that drew him to her as if he had no will of his own? Wishing he could sweep her up in his arms and kiss her, he said only, “I’m sure the committee can come up with a suitable enough name.”
As the two of them continued walking along the site, suddenly her boot caught on a large tree root and she stumbled, pitching forward. Quinton reached out to catch her from falling to the ground. His arms quickly wrapped around her small frame, and he pulled her close to him to steady her.
“Are you all right?” He held her in his firm grip, feeling the pounding of her heart next to his chest. She felt so good in his arms, so right. Her body pressed against the length of him, her seductive shape a painful reminder of what he should not want. A slow banked heat began to burn between them. Lisette looked up at him and he saw undisguised desire flash in her pretty green eyes. He felt it, too, wanting to press his lips to hers and take her mouth in a sweet kiss. It would be so easy. The curve of her full lips, slightly parted, enticed him with the memory of their exquisite taste. He could just lean down and kiss her. He was so
close . . . However, he steeled himself not to. They stood like that for some minutes, suspended in a dangerous limbo of longing.
“Yes, I’m all right,” she finally murmured as she pulled back from him, breaking their little reverie. “Thank you for catching me. I must take more care where I am walking.”
He released her with great reluctance, and she took a step or two away from him.
“I suppose we should be getting back,” he suggested, suddenly feeling the cold wind more sharply than he had before she had been in his arms.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I suppose we should.”
Although he longed to, this time he did not take her hand as they walked silently back to his carriage. He felt oddly bereft without her small hand in his, but he knew that not touching her was the wiser course of action even though it went against every instinct of his being. With a sigh of resolve, Quinton directed the coachman to take them to Devon House, and then he helped Lisette into the carriage and took his seat across from her.
“Thank you for bringing me here today,” she said as the carriage began to move forward.
“I was happy to show it to you.” It was the truth. He’d gained much pleasure from looking at the land through her eyes. Lisette seemed as much a part of the project as any of the financial contributors. “When we have the time to do so properly, I would like to show you the detailed designs for the houses. Your opinion would mean a great deal to me.”
“I would love to see the designs! I’ve never seen the architectural plans for a house before or any other building for that matter.”
“I think you would find them qui—”
The carriage jolted to a sudden stop, flinging an unsuspecting Lisette forward with a little squeal of surprise. Seated across from her, Quinton reached out and barely managed to catch her before she landed on the floor of the carriage in a tangle of skirts. While helping her return to the seat, the carriage lurched into motion once again, causing him to lose his balance and fall upon her. She sprawled back on her seat sideways and their bodies angled together on the seat in such a way that he was on top of her in the most intimate of positions.
It Happened One Christmas Page 16
