Hot Historicals Bundle with An Invitation to Sin, The Naked Baron, When His Kiss Is Wicked, & Mastering the Marquess

by Jo Beverley

  “I am so relieved to hear it,” she said. Lady Hayvenhurst, a matron with four grown children, had to be over fifty but still maintained a svelte figure with a considerable bosom, which she showed off to great advantage. Her laughing eyes and genuinely kind nature had won Lucien over years ago. “You must give him my very warmest regards.”

  “I will be sure to, Lady Hayvenhurst.”

  “There are some pretty new faces here this evening, Lord Waverly. Please try not to break all of their hearts in one fell swoop,” she admonished him with a merry wink.

  “I’ll do my best.” As the heir to a marquis, Lucien knew he was considered to be “a catch” by most of society, but so far he had successfully eluded capture.

  “It’s about time you found yourself a lovely wife,” she said with a knowing grin. “You’re too handsome to stay a bachelor. I think I may know just the perfect young lady for you. Would you like me to introduce you?”

  “Thank you, but I think not. However, I’ll be sure to let you know when I’m ready to settle down,” he said, evading her usual matchmaking plans. Finding a suitable bride was a task he intended to accomplish without any assistance from well-intentioned matrons. “Where is Lord Hayvenhurst this evening?”

  “Oh, he’s about somewhere.” She laughed carelessly. “He managed to lose me over an hour ago.”

  “If I find him, I’ll send him your way.”

  “Thank you, my dear!”

  As Lady Hayvenhurst greeted yet another guest, Lucien made his way forward, pressing through the heavy crowd. Judging from the large number of people, all of London had turned out for the ball.

  “Waverly!”

  Lucien turned as his name was called. Lord James Buckley, one of Lucien’s closest friends and an inveterate gambler, stepped toward him. “How are you, Buckley?” Lucien asked.

  “Just fine! We’re starting up a poker game in Lord Hayvenhurst’s back drawing room. Come join us and give me a chance to win back some of what I owe you.”

  Lucien shook his head. “I’ve only just arrived. Perhaps I’ll join you later.”

  “Right, then.” Buckley hesitated, his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks, Lucien, and I’m sorry about your father’s illness. And I know I owe you money. I haven’t forgotten and I would really like to pay you back tonight. But the thing is, I owe Crandall some also, and he’s pressing me for the money now, and as I’m rather short on funds at the moment…” He trailed off awkwardly.

  “It’s all right, Buckley,” Lucien said. “Get it to me when you can.”

  Absolute relief showed all over his freckled face. “Thanks, Lucien. I will pay you back. I’m good for it, I promise.”

  “I know you are.” Lucien then added, “But perhaps you should forgo any games tonight.”

  “Good idea!” Buckley nodded in understanding and headed off hastily. Lucien hoped his friend heeded his advice, but unfortunately sensed that he would not.

  Continuing through the crush of people in the Hayvenhurst ballroom, Lucien paused now and then to acknowledge the familiar faces that greeted him. Above the growing din, he heard a very distinctive voice calling his name.

  “Lucien!”

  Lord Jeffrey Eddington, a tall, dark-haired gentleman with a wide grin on his face, waved in his direction, motioning for Lucien to join him. Still making his way through the mass of guests, Lucien finally reached his friend.

  “It’s a madhouse in here tonight,” he commented when he reached the alcove where Jeffrey was standing. “I’ve been here forty-five minutes and still haven’t been able to get a drink.”

  “Well, you can’t have mine.” Jeffrey held up a crystal tumbler half full of scotch. “I need it too much.”

  “Rough evening already?” Lucien asked with a wry look.

  “I have been cut down by the most beautiful creature.” After making a tragic face, he took a long swig from his drink.

  Lucien laughed out loud. Lord Jeffrey Eddington, the illegitimate son of the wealthy and influential Duke of Rathmore, had a reputation only slightly worse than Lucien’s own. Women, young and old, swooned at Jeffrey’s feet.

  He and Lucien had known each other since their days at Eton, becoming instant friends at the age of eleven when Lucien punched the arrogant and irritating Walter Brockwell in the face for calling Jeffrey a bastard. At the time Lucien wasn’t even entirely sure what that word meant, but judging from the stricken expression on Jeffrey’s face, he knew it signified something terrible, so he had hauled off and given Walter Brockwell a black eye, earning Jeffrey Eddington’s loyal friendship.

  Each suffering the effects of a shattered home life and without the need for further explanations, the two young boys turned into fast friends from that day on. They even attended Oxford together. Over the years Jeffrey became one of the very few people in Lucien’s life whom he trusted implicitly. Lucien did not have a brother, but he felt that Jeffrey Eddington was as close to having a brother as he was ever going to get.

  “I’d like to meet the lady who cut you down,” Lucien remarked with a laugh.

  “I’ve only just been introduced to her myself. A Miss Juliette Hamilton. You know I never go after the debutantes on the marriage mart, Lucien, but this one is a stunner—”

  “What name did you say?” The words sounded eerily familiar to Lucien’s ears. Hamilton with a French name. It could not possibly be the same name of the beautiful girl in the bookshop he had just met. Could it?

  “Juliette Hamilton. Do you know her?” Jeffrey asked in surprise.

  Lucien shook his head in wonder at the coincidence. “No, but I’ve heard the name before. Where is she now?” His eyes narrowed and scanned the room searching for a luscious brunette with stunning blue eyes.

  “She was dancing with Lord Sudbury a short time ago. But I don’t see her any longer. She must be in the dining room.” Jeffrey shrugged carelessly.

  “Who is she here with?” Lucien could not help asking, still searching the faces in the crowd.

  “An uncle, I think.”

  Interesting. Lucien believed she must be the sister of the bookshop girl, for how many Juliette Hamiltons could there be? At the possibility of seeing Colette Hamilton again, he felt his pulse quicken.

  Jeffrey resumed his story. “As soon as I laid eyes on her, I wrangled an introduction through Lady Hayvenhurst, who made me promise not to tempt the girl. I don’t wish to marry the chit, for heaven’s sake, I just wanted to meet her. Being the bastard son of a duke has its perks.”

  Jeffrey gave him a rueful smile, but Lucien knew his illegitimacy was a sore spot with him, for all that he was raised as Rathmore’s own son.

  “Just as I got to her side,” Jeffrey continued his tale of heartbreak, “I heard that stuffy prig George Bickford ask her to dance and she answered, ‘I am honored, but I am not interested.’ Can you believe that? Well, her honest remark made me only like her all the more! Bickford went off in a huff and I winked at her. And by God, she winked right back at me! She didn’t stammer and blush, like all the others would have. Greatly impressed, I told her that I thought she had discriminating tastes. She said that she certainly did. Then the uncle came marching over, to scold her, I would imagine. As he was dragging her off, she turned her head back, and I swear, Lucien, she poked her tongue out at me! Unbelievable! And a lovely little tongue it was, too.”

  Lucien laughed at the idea of the girl acting so audaciously. Well-bred ladies did not behave that way. And if they did, they certainly did not do so in public. This one must be a firebrand, all right. “She sounds like a bit of trouble to me.”

  “She more than likely is, which is what intrigues me. You know I like a woman who can stir things up a bit. But enough of her.” Jeffrey turned and leaned back against the wall in a careless manner. “Now you, my friend, you are here tonight on a matter of serious business.”

  Lucien nodded reluctantly. Indeed he was.

  “And you’re still deter
mined to go through with this godawful idea before the Season is over?”

  “I owe it to my father. He’s dying, Jeffrey. I cannot deny him this. He’s had too much sadness in his life as it is. I can at least let him see me married before he dies. He deserves to know the family line will continue.”

  The image of his father, Simon Sinclair, the Marquis of Stancliff, lying frail and weak in his darkened bedchamber, chilled him. The weakened muscles, the pallid complexion, and the dull, lifeless eyes haunted him. He owed his father more than he had given him over the last few years. His father needed him desperately now. And Lucien had vowed to himself to be there for him.

  From the moment his father had been stricken with the strange paralysis, Lucien had been at his bedside night and day, and when he wasn’t there, he was in Simon’s office. He had actually taken over the duties of his father’s estate, and to his great surprise he found that he actually enjoyed it. For the last few years Simon had been trying to get Lucien more involved in managing the marquisate, but Lucien’s heart and mind had been involved elsewhere. Now it was different. Now he focused on the issues that needed his attention and he had begun making changes. As soon as he felt he could leave his father, he would travel to all the Sinclair estate holdings and see for himself how matters could be improved.

  Lucien had learned more during the last few weeks than he had in all his years at the university. Through working assiduously and dealing with the day-to-day financial issues of the massive estate that he was marked to inherit, Lucien finally found a sense of purpose within himself that no amount of gambling and pleasure-seeking had ever been able to assuage, no matter how diligently pursued. For the first time in years, he felt useful and hopeful of a meaningful life, even with his father’s inevitable demise looming over him.

  “I guess you would have to marry eventually anyway.” Jeffrey pointed out the obvious. “I can’t imagine you would see the whole estate go to that idiot cousin of yours.”

  Lucien nodded in agreement. “I can promise you that Edmund will never inherit my father’s estate.”

  “Have you any prospects on the lucky woman who will be your bride?”

  “None yet,” Lucien answered with a heavy sigh. “I just know I want a sweet, biddable chit. One who is virtuous, kind, and good-tempered. One who will do as I ask and not cause difficulties. One who would be happy to stay quietly at home at my country estate, not here in town caught up in the social season. One who will be content enough with raising children.”

  “You didn’t say she had to be beautiful.”

  “No, I did not.” Beauty was definitely not a requirement in a wife for Lucien. In fact, he would prefer anything but beautiful. Beautiful women caused only trouble and misery. He knew that from firsthand experience.

  Jeffrey laughed at the hard look on Lucien’s face. “Any wife of mine would have to be a beauty. I couldn’t bear anything less. If I’m going to be leg-shackled, I’d prefer a very attractive shackle. But what you’re seeking won’t be a challenging task. Simply look over there.” He gestured across the immense ballroom.

  There along the opposite wall amid the potted plants and elderly matrons sat the plain, ignored young ladies who had not been asked to dance all evening, except perhaps for the obligatory dances required by their male family members. These were the ladies who had been passed over Season after Season but were still paraded about each year by their parents in hopes of finally snaring a husband. Never having given such females a second glance before, Lucien now stared at them with a critical eye.

  One of those sad ladies would certainly make a suitable wife for him. Yes, he admitted to himself, some were rather decidedly on the plump side and a few were quite unfortunate looking, but all in all they were not repulsive. Perhaps they were not the most fashionable or the most sociable of women, but he was sure they had other admirable qualities. They just needed a closer look to find their less obvious nonphysical attributes.

  No, these ladies certainly would not turn heads, but Lucien didn’t want a wife who could turn heads. He wanted a woman who would behave, such as the small one with the blond hair in the plain dress, for example. She had a sweet expression on her face in spite of her dull attire. She would certainly be grateful to have a man like Lucien for a husband. Grateful enough to conduct herself as a faithful and obedient wife.

  “You’re not seriously considering one of those when you have your choice of the most beautiful and elegant women in London?”

  Jeffrey’s seductive words shook him, but Lucien would not be swayed. He knew what would be best for him, and he would not be deterred in his quest to marry an obedient and well-behaved woman. If that meant she would be plain as well, then so be it. Beautiful women were not worth the misery they were capable of causing. He had experienced all too painfully the heartache and damage they caused. No, he was quite right in his thinking. A plain, biddable wife. That was the way to go.

  “Yes. What about that sweet-looking one on the end there,” Lucien said in a quiet tone, pointing out the blonde.

  Jeffrey shook his head in disbelief. “Well, I wish you luck, for I think you’ll desperately need it. As for me, I’m fortunate enough not to have the pressure to marry placed upon my shoulders. Having no name to carry on has its benefits—” He stopped abruptly as a predatory gleam appeared in his eyes. “Well, well. Look who is coming this way…”

  At Jeffrey’s instruction, Lucien turned his head to see to what his friend referred. Two stunning women approached them, but he had eyes only for one, and she literally took his breath away. Good God. It was the beautiful woman from the bookshop. The very same woman he had been so tempted to kiss.

  Even more enchanting than she had been that afternoon, Colette Hamilton stood before him. Gone were the dirt smudges and bits of dust in her hair. Gone were the shapeless navy dress and large work apron. Gone was the little shopkeeper. Even in that dark and dingy shop, he had recognized her as a beautiful woman, but now he could not take his eyes off her. One would never guess that she worked in a bookshop. Dressed in a fitted gown of pale blue silk, she displayed a lush and shapely form that aroused him immediately. Her rich, dark hair was arranged in a sophisticated style upon her head, baring her long, elegant neck. She now appeared a graceful and serene angel.

  “Hello again, Miss Hamilton,” Jeffrey said to the other woman standing beside Colette.

  Lucien then noticed Juliette Hamilton for the first time. She looked like a darker version of her sister. Both were beautiful women, undeniably. However, Juliette could barely suppress the wildness in her eyes. Something about Colette’s softer loveliness appealed to him more than her sister’s daring beauty did.

  “Please forgive me,” Juliette Hamilton said with what closely resembled a smirk on her heart-shaped face. “But I do believe I have forgotten your name.”

  “You have forgotten me so soon? You have wounded me to the quick, Miss Hamilton,” Jeffrey stated dramatically, his eyes full of mirth.

  Juliette raised an elegantly arched brow at him. “Somehow I find that highly doubtful.”

  “I shall have to reintroduce myself to you, then. I am Lord Jeffrey Eddington and this is my friend, the Earl of Waverly.” Jeffrey bowed gallantly.

  Juliette’s dark eyes raked over the both of them, but Lucien could only see Colette. He wondered if she was as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

  “This is my sister, Colette Hamilton.” Juliette introduced her to both men.

  “There was not a doubt in my mind that you two were sisters,” Jeffrey commented, greeting Colette. “You both look astonishingly alike.”

  “I am pleased to see you again, Miss Hamilton,” Lucien said, with a polite nod toward the so far silent Colette.

  “Good evening, Lord Waverly.” She grinned cryptically.

  “How do you two know each other?” Jeffrey asked him in confusion, while Juliette Hamilton’s raised eyebrows conveyed her surprise that her sister already knew Lucien.

 
Enjoying the fact that he knew something about these two women that his friend did not, Lucien explained. “We met at her family’s bookshop last week.”

  Taking in this bit of information, Jeffrey questioned, “Have you a bookshop?”

  “Yes,” Colette responded. “Hamilton’s Book Shoppe. It’s in Mayfair, just off Bond Street.”

  “I am a fortunate man!” Jeffrey grinned gleefully. “For now I know where to find two beautiful ladies!”

  Both girls giggled at Jeffrey’s words, but Lucien could not stop staring at Colette. “It’s lovely to see you again, Miss Hamilton. What an unexpected pleasure to see you this evening.”

  Colette shook her head slightly. “I had not expected to see you either.”

  “Would you care to dance with me, Miss Hamilton?” Jeffrey asked, his eyes still on Juliette.

  “I’m afraid that we cannot,” Colette responded rather hurriedly, before her sister could answer. “It seems our uncle has already chosen our dance partners for this evening.”

  “Well, that is terrible news.” Jeffrey gave a lamentable shake of his head. “I must see your uncle about getting my name on your list of partners.”

  “I would love to dance with you, Lord Eddington,” Juliette said with a cool and defiant glance at her sister.

  The silent interplay between the two women would have amused Lucien, but he sensed something wildly rebellious about Juliette. Colette clearly did not wish for her sister to dance with Jeffrey, which probably demonstrated good judgment on her part. Eddington and Juliette together could be an unmanageable and rather dangerous combination.

  “Well, then. I can hardly refuse such a simple request, Miss Hamilton.” Jeffrey grinned from ear to ear. “Shall we?” He offered Juliette his arm and the two of them moved into the throng on the dance floor before Colette could utter another protest.

  Lucien stood there in awkward silence, Colette by his side, watching Jeffrey and Juliette waltz away together. He would love to take Colette in his arms and dance with her, but he knew it would be wiser to focus on his goal that evening.