Henry stared at her uncomprehendingly. “You what? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Dear God in heaven. He was going to make her repeat it. She took a deep breath before beginning again, feeling a little stronger this time. “Henry, I am so very sorry, but after giving the matter a great deal of thought and consideration, I think it might be best if we don’t marry after all.”
He sat back in his chair, stunned by her words. “You cannot mean that!”
Lisette said very low, “I do mean it.”
He cleared his throat. “I must say this comes as quite a shock to me, Lisette.”
“I know it is, believe me, and I am truly very sorry for that.”
“Why?” he mumbled, his expression one of confusion. His gray eyes filled with hurt. “Why now? After all these years together?”
“As I said, after thinking about it a great deal, I just don’t think a marriage will work between us. This is not some decision I made on a whim. This has been a very difficult conclusion to come to, Henry, because I do care about you.”
She did care about Henry. But she was finding that she cared about Quinton Roxbury more than she ought to. Lisette did not know how Quinton Roxbury felt about her or what his intentions were toward her. But she knew how she felt about him and how Quinton made her feel when she was with him. When she was with him, she rode a wave of emotions that left her breathless. When she was with Quinton, she felt alive in every cell of her body. And she knew without a doubt she could never marry Henry Brooks when she harbored such intense feelings for another man. How could she ever be a good wife when she desired someone other than her husband? Henry was a kind and decent man and he deserved much better than that from her.
“What wouldn’t work? What has changed in the last week?” He seemed almost frantic. For the first time since she’d walked into his office, she felt as if she had captured his full attention at last. “What has happened to you, Lisette?”
“Henry, I’ve changed. Somehow something within me has changed. Perhaps I’ve grown up a little,” she whispered, hoping he would not press her for details. She had no wish to explain what had happened between her and Quinton the last few weeks. “I’ve discussed it with my family, and I have decided to have a Season after all.”
He laughed in derision and rolled his eyes. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! You have no need of a Season. We are getting married in June. You cannot be serious about this, Lisette!”
“I am quite serious, Henry.” She met his eyes directly, without flinching. He blinked.
“Why?” he asked again, full of confusion.
“I don’t know that I can explain it all to you adequately.”
“Perhaps you simply need more time to adjust to the idea of marriage.”
Her smile was a bit rueful. “Even you have to admit that we have had more than ample time to become acquainted with each other and know if we would suit. We’ve had more time together than most, Henry.”
“I don’t see what has prompted this sudden change in you, Lisette,” he muttered, growing angry. He suddenly rose to his feet. “I have always treated you well. I have given you no cause to end our engagement.”
“Nor have you given me cause to wish to be your wife,” she said quietly.
The more she had thought about it, the more she had realized it was the truth. Had he simply taken it for granted that she would marry him from the start and therefore made no effort to woo her with romantic gestures? Whenever they had discussed their future together, it was in the most practical terms. There had been no talk of love. No kisses. The most romantic overture he ever expressed was giving her an engagement ring last week and that didn’t even fit her. Besides, by then it was already too late.
She had already met Mr. Roxbury.
Perhaps she was making a foolish decision in breaking her engagement to Henry, but in her heart she knew she could do nothing else. She simply could not marry him feeling the way she did about Quinton Roxbury.
Henry slowly sank back into the chair, his face perplexed. “What do you mean by that?”
“You have not behaved in any way to inspire love, Henry.”
“Love? You know I love you!” he cried in outraged protest, his face growing red. “Of course I love you! I’ve loved you for years!”
“You have never told me.”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you!” he objected. “I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t love you.”
“Do you really love me, Henry? In all these years, you have never given me more than a chaste kiss—”
“Because I respect you! I cherish and adore you!” he interrupted. “I’ve treated you with the utmost care and consideration as a true gentleman should!” He suddenly paused and rose to his feet again, looking at her most suspiciously. He pressed his hands wide against the edge of the desk and leaned across to her. “You’ve been kissing someone else, haven’t you?”
Lisette remained silent, her eyes downcast. She desperately wished that she could deny the truth, but she could not lie to him.
“Who is he?” he ground out through clenched teeth, his gray eyes flashing.
“Does it matter?” Lisette had never seen Henry angry before, and she did not like that she was the cause of such anger. In fact, she was surprised to see such strong emotion in him in the first place.
He stood straight again and crossed his arms across his chest. He began to accuse her as a solicitor. “It has to be someone you met in Brighton. You kissed me that night you returned. You kissed me like a—” He stopped himself and paused, nodding his head. “I thought you behaved strangely the night of our party, but I believed you were just excited and nervous about our wedding. I should have known better, but I never suspected you of something like this, Lisette.” He shook his head in disgust. “It’s so unlike you.”
If the floor would open up and swallow her whole, Lisette would gladly have gone. Never had she felt so humiliated.
“Who is he?” Henry demanded to know.
“Please don’t do this,” she begged in a whisper.
“Don’t you think I have the right to know who my fiancée is leaving me for?”
“I am not leaving you for anyone. It’s not what you think, Henry.”
“It’s not what I think?” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Did my fiancée just come to my office to end our engagement after three years? Did she just tell me that I don’t love her enough to kiss her passionately? That she no longer wishes to be my wife? Did she just reveal that she has been kissing another man? Don’t tell me it’s not what I think! I know very well what is going on here, Lisette.”
The silence between them was deafening. The comfort and ease they once shared in each other’s company had disappeared in an instant. There was nothing more to do. Lisette stood on trembling legs.
“I am sorry, Henry. I do not know what else to say.” Removing a small package from her reticule, she placed it on his desk. “I had embroidered your initials on some linen handkerchiefs as a Christmas gift, but now . . .” Her voice failed her and she turned toward the door.
“Lisette, please.”
She faced him with a heavy heart.
His sad gray eyes pleaded with her. “Will you at least give it . . . give us . . . more time?”
Lisette sighed. “Henry, I have never lied to you and I cannot lie to you now. I have a great affection for you, but I no longer believe a marriage between us will work. And I do not think that more time will change my mind on this point.”
“I think you are wrong and you are acting foolish,” he added. “I think we would have a successful and happy marriage and I have always thought so. It saddens me that you no longer agree with me. However, I will wait for you just the same.”
“Good-bye, Henry,” she said in a soft voice.
“I won’t say good-bye, Lisette.”
She slowly shook her head before turning back to the door. As she exited the buildi
ng, an enormous sense of relief washed over her. As sad as she was for Henry and the end of their plans together, she knew without a doubt that she had made the right decision. Ever since her trip to Brighton, she had struggled with her desire for Quinton and her guilt over kissing him. She could not have married Henry in all honesty while harboring secret feelings for Quinton Roxbury. Her conscience would not allow it.
Perhaps she would never meet another man who made her feel the way Quinton did, but she would not settle for less. She finally understood what her mother and sisters had been trying to tell her. She would not settle.
Quinton Roxbury. She now needed to erase him from her mind. And her heart. For she could never have him.
The Devon House carriage waited for her, but Lisette had no wish to ride. She needed to walk, needed to feel the bracing, cold air on her face. Dismissing the Devon House coachman, she would walk to the bookshop on her own.
With her boots clicking on the cobblestones, she pulled her hood over her head and walked along the busy London streets, dodging the crowds of people hurrying about. The sights and sounds of the city surrounded her. Ringing bells and horses’ hooves, vendors calling out their wares, selling baked potatoes, meat pies, roasted chestnuts, and ginger beer from their barrows. Street urchins ran about the wagons, hoping to find something to eat, their dirty faces drawn thin with hunger.
Lisette watched them and wondered where they lived, but knew it was more than likely they called the slums their home. One small boy caught her eye, sitting on top of a large barrel alongside a building. A tattered cap covered his head, but distinctive red strands escaped the bottom. His round, freckled little face looked almost cherubic, and he couldn’t have been more than eight years old. For an instant his big blue eyes met hers and she was shocked by the depth of pain she saw within them for a child so young. There was something familiar about him. As if she had seen him before. A mixture of innocence and world-weary wisdom was hidden within his young face and pulled at her heartstrings. Without thinking, she reached her gloved hand out to him. He shook his head, but did not look away from her.
She motioned for him to wait a moment.
Lisette walked to one of the vendors, but could still feel the intense eyes of the boy upon her. She purchased a few baked potatoes and some warm bread. Turning around, she walked toward the little lad. She offered the food to him. His eyes widened but he did not hesitate. He snatched the potatoes and bread from her hands before she realized he had even hopped down from his perch on the barrel.
“Thank you, miss,” he said hurriedly as he made a move to run from her.
“Wait!” Lisette called out to him. “Please don’t go yet!” The little boy paused, turning around, and watched her carefully.
She reached into her reticule and grabbed the last of the shillings she had with her. Again she held her hand out to him. He approached her and moved to take the money, but she pulled her hand away before he could take the coins. “What is your name?”
He gazed at her with wariness, surprised and impressed at how quickly she moved her hand away. Judging that she meant him no harm, he answered her. “Tom.”
She moved her hand closer, tempting him with the money. “Tom what?”
“Tom Alcott.” He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her. “Who’re you?”
His smile almost knocked her over, so bright and charming was it. She grinned helplessly back at him. He was interested enough to ask her name. That was progress. She gave him two shillings, which he pocketed immediately.
She said, “I’m Miss Lisette Hamilton. How old are you?”
“Ten.”
Ten? Heavens, he was so small for ten! She had guessed him to be only about eight years old. She gave him a coin for sharing his age, but she wanted to know more.
While offering yet another shilling, she asked, “Where do you live, Tom?”
“Saint Giles.” He pocketed the money she had given him, while struggling to hold the bread and potatoes.
Lisette had guessed that was where he lived. It was the poorest neighborhood in the city. Hating to think of this boy living there, she held out another shilling for him. “Who takes care of you?”
“Myself.” He grabbed the money but looked anxious to be on his way, as if he was afraid she would take back what she had given him.
“I see.” Her heart broke to think of this sweet boy all alone in the world. She held out one more shilling to him. “If you like, I can help you a little. Come by Hamilton’s Book Shoppe, just off Bond Street, and ask for me anytime. I can give you some work, and some food, and maybe even teach you to read.”
“Why?” His wide eyes looked at her with wonder.
“Because I want to and I think you need a little help.” She smiled at him. “Remember, it’s Hamilton’s Book Shoppe.”
“Thanks, miss.” He grabbed the coin from her hand in a quick motion and fled down the alley, disappearing as if he had not been there at all.
Lisette stood there on the corner, trembling with an emotion she could not name. She had never done that before, connected with a child like that. She had seen hundreds of children just like him over the years, dirty and miserable and needing help. Yet there was something about that little red-haired boy that touched her heart and she had the strongest urge to help him in any way she could. She wondered if Tom Alcott would come to the shop as she’d asked but held little hope that he would. More than likely he would vanish into the impoverished underworld of the city and she would never see him again.
The thought saddened her.
No longer feeling the cold December chill, she continued along the crowded street, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and ideas, most of them concerning Quinton Roxbury and his plans for helping people like little Tom Alcott. She wanted to be a part of that, wanted to help make a difference in their lives. She decided she would accept Quinton’s offer to be on the housing selection committee. It would be good to be associated with something important and vital, to belong to something bigger than herself.
That was what fascinated her about Quinton Roxbury. He imagined the future and took steps to make it happen. Ignoring the skeptics and naysayers, he moved forward against overwhelming odds to help others. He wanted to improve the world around him. The extraordinary qualities that he possessed drew her to him. Standing with him at the building site the other day, her hand in his, had filled her with happiness.
“Lisette Annabelle Hamilton!” a strong male voice called out, distracting her from her thoughts.
Looking up, Lisette grinned at the handsome sight of Lord Jeffrey Eddington striding toward her. Wearing a long black coat and a tall top hat, he appeared most dashing. He had a way about him that always made her feel lighter just being in his presence. She was never more grateful to see anyone in her life. Smiling up at him, she cried, “Jeffrey! Hello!”
“Now this is a wonderful surprise to see you, for I was just thinking of you,” he said, taking her arm in his and falling into step with her. They continued walking together. “I was just on my way to visit your wayward sister. Colette sent a note around to me that Juliette has arrived back home. And with a daughter, no less!”
“Oh yes!” Lisette exclaimed in excitement. “Wait until you see her, Jeffrey. She is simply beautiful!”
“I’ve no doubt of that,” he said with a knowing grin.
“Now what are you about today, miss? Christmas shopping?”
“No, I’m on my way to the bookshop.”
He appeared puzzled. “Coming from this direction?” “I was just leaving Henry’s office,” she offered in explanation. She glanced hesitantly at Jeffrey’s face and saw concern in his eyes. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “I’ve just broken off my engagement with him.”
In a swift movement he turned her around and they began walking in the opposite direction before she could even utter a protest.
“Then you are not going to the bookshop,” he declared with complete authority.
“Why?” she managed to ask, hurrying to keep up with his quick pace. “Jeffrey, where are we going?”
“You are coming with me.”
“But why?” she gasped, confused by this sudden change of events.
“Because I said so.”
As Jeffrey continued to march her forward along the busy city thoroughfare, Lisette was at a complete loss as to where he intended to take her. Or why.
25
Hail the New, Ye Lads and Lasses
Friday, December 19, 1873
Lisette stared at her reflection in the cheval glass mirror and smiled nervously, quite pleased with how she looked. Her hair! Oh, they had spent hours curling her long auburn tresses with a hot iron, and the elegant effect was astonishing. She appeared sophisticated and more elegant. The stylish and low-cut bustle gown of emerald silk and velvet edged with black embroidered lace brought out the green in her eyes and was the most daring and fashionable dress she had ever worn. It made her feel powerful. And Lisette needed to feel powerful tonight.
She had told Henry that she was going to participate in the Season this spring and she meant it. In the meantime she would make her first foray into society this winter.
Looking at her reflection, if she didn’t know any better, she would think she attended balls every day as a matter of course. Going to the Duke of Rathmore’s Christmas Ball gave her a shiver of trepidation, but she was determined to make the best of it. To prove to herself that she could do it.
All she had heard from anyone was what a fool she had been to pass up the social opportunity of a lifetime by forgoing a traditional Season two years ago. Well, that was about to change now.
After her interesting and quite informative little talk with Lord Jeffrey Eddington two days ago, she was ready to transform her life a little and he agreed to escort her to his father’s annual Christmas Ball. There was a good chance that Quinton Roxbury and Lady Emmeline Tarleton would be attending the ball as well, but she tried not to think about that. Tonight, she was going to step out of her shell for the first time.
It Happened One Christmas Page 21
