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

by Jo Beverley

“Miss Hamilton! Miss Hamilton, over here!”

  The fact that someone was shouting her name slowly registered in her angry fog-shrouded brain, and she turned to see who had called to her.

  His black top hat perched jauntily on his head, Lord Jeffrey Eddington waved to her from inside his fine carriage, smiling broadly. Pulled by two ebony horses, the shiny black-lacquered carriage came to a stop before her. Jeffrey’s charming grin disappeared and his handsome face clouded with concern as he drew closer. In an instant the door flew open and he bounded to the sidewalk beside her.

  “Here now, Colette. What’s happened? You look dreadfully upset.”

  She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes, suddenly aware that she had fled the house without a hat or gloves. She must be a sight! “I’m fine, thank you,” she whispered.

  His keen eyes missed nothing and he shook his head. “No, you’re not fine at all. Come with me.”

  Before she knew it, Jeffrey had whisked her into his carriage and they were moving down the road. Not caring where they were going, she allowed Jeffrey to take over. She sat opposite him, and he stared at her, his longs legs stretched out in front of him.

  “What’s wrong?” His light blue eyes peered at her intently. “Has something happened to you or one of the girls? Juliette?”

  She thought about saying nothing. She thought about telling him it was none of his business. She thought about making something up. Her pride almost kept her from revealing the truth, but she was suddenly too tired.

  “My mother sold the bookshop.” The words hurt as she said them aloud, but they still did not seem any more real.

  “What do you mean?” His shocked expression conveyed more emotion than his words did.

  Colette nodded sadly and her voice cracked as she explained. “She sold it without even consulting me. It no longer belongs to us, and she’s moving us all to the seashore.”

  In a quick motion Jeffrey moved to sit beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his broad chest before Colette could even make protest, had she wanted to. In actuality she was more than a little grateful for his comforting presence.

  “That’s terrible news. Surely there must be something we can do.”

  She shook her head. “It’s already done. My mother and my uncle just told me about it this afternoon. I was so upset I simply ran out of the house. I didn’t even know where I was going, but I had to get away, and that’s when you found me. I’ve lost everything, Jeffrey. Everything.”

  He continued to hold her, his hand gently patting her back with long strokes. The swaying of the carriage rocked them back and forth in a gentle motion, and Colette relaxed against him. How odd to be held by Jeffrey Eddington! Yet the oddest part was that it was very nice. More than nice. There was a good, clean scent about him, and his arm felt strong and protective around her, giving her a wonderful sense of calm.

  Usually cheerful and full of amusing stories and laughter, Jeffrey now seemed grave and serious. She had not witnessed this side of his personality before, and it surprised her.

  “You haven’t lost everything, Colette. You still have your sisters and your friends.”

  “Yes,” she agreed wearily. “It’s not the same, though. I love the bookshop. I was the one who worked in it every day. I was the one who took care of everything. I made it mine, and she had no right to sell it.”

  “Your mother is just looking out for you,” he said soothingly, his expression kind. “That’s what mothers do.”

  “She’s looking out for herself,” Colette couldn’t help but snap, feeling small and petty as she uttered the words.

  “Perhaps,” he conceded. “But I’m sure she did not reach the decision to sell the shop easily. She had to know that doing so would hurt you. Did you talk to her about why she didn’t tell you?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I was too angry to speak with her after I found out the shop had been sold.”

  “Maybe you should try.”

  “I suppose.” Colette nodded weakly, before tears suddenly spilled down her cheeks. Overwhelmed by all that had happened and Jeffrey’s unexpected kindness, she wailed, “What shall I do now?”

  Without a word, he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a linen handkerchief. Handing it to her, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. Almost stunned enough by the kiss to stop crying, Colette accepted his monogrammed handkerchief, which smelled pleasantly like Jeffrey, and wiped the tears from her face, sniffling.

  “What do you wish to do, Colette?” he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

  She gave a half laugh, half sob, shaking her head. “I don’t know anymore, and it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve lost everything I care about. Everything.”

  “This isn’t just about the bookshop, is it?”

  No, Colette’s tears were not just about the bookshop. The tears were the ones she had not shed when her father died. They were the tears she had kept locked inside over the frustration of dealing with her self-absorbed and bitterly dramatic mother, of handling the responsibility of caring for her younger sisters, of the strain of knowing she had to make a financially successful marriage, and over the constant worry of managing the bookshop on her own. She was crying about everything that had occurred over the last few months. But most of all, the mortifying pain of what had recently happened with Lucien hurt more than anything else. Now, at the first sign that someone seemed to care about her enough to ask what she wanted in her life, hot tears flowed down her cheeks. Overwhelmed by emotions too numerous to name, she simply told Jeffrey the truth.

  “It’s about losing the bookshop after working day and night to make it a success. It’s about my mother thinking only of herself. It’s about my uncle pressuring me to marry.”

  “I see.” Again Jeffrey was surprisingly quiet. For a man who was usually quick with a wicked retort or a joking response, he was oddly reticent to say anything to her.

  “I know I ought to be married by now, but I don’t wish to have a husband look at me merely as someone he can order about.”

  “Has your uncle found someone suitable for you?” He eyed her carefully.

  “Not yet. He’s still looking, although I’m sure he despairs of anyone marrying me or Juliette.”

  “I understand his concern for Juliette. Her fierce independence and sharp tongue would scare off even the heartiest male. But you, on the other hand, you should have had a multitude of offers by now from suitable gentlemen.”

  “Not as many as you would think.”

  “That’s because your uncle is an idiot.”

  She could not help the laugh that escaped her. Leave it to Jeffrey to make her laugh. She dried her tears, then clutched his handkerchief tightly in her palm. Colette settled into the feel of Jeffrey’s arm around her. How heavenly it would be to have someone to hold her like this whenever she was upset or worried. What a luxury that would be!

  If only that someone could be Lucien Sinclair.

  When Lucien had held her, she felt as if nothing bad could ever happen to her. Being in his arms had been absolute heaven. But he did not want to be with her. He had made that abundantly clear on that dreadful night. Lucien would marry a proper, traditional woman who did not enjoy running a business. He wanted a woman whose virtue was not so easily given away. A woman who would not be overcome by passion, as she was.

  She cringed at the memory of the few words they had exchanged after an awkwardly tense silence in the carriage the night he took her home. Now days had passed since she had seen or heard from him.

  The conversation that she had with Juliette flashed through her mind. Juliette believed Colette should marry Jeffrey Eddington. Could that even be a possibility when her heart longed only for Lucien Sinclair?

  Jeffrey was a good man. Undoubtedly he would be a kind husband and would always treat her well. Handsome, witty, and fun, he also cared for her and her family. Marrying him would not be the worst decision she could make in her life. She had never b
een the type of woman driven by a desire to marry into an elevated social position. Even though she sensed that deep down it bothered Jeffrey, and some women would not even consider marrying him because of it, the facts of his illegitimate birth meant nothing to her.

  But what would Jeffrey think of her if he knew the truth of what she had done with Lucien? For all that Juliette described him as understanding and forgiving of women’s indiscretions, Colette did not believe he would easily overlook such an intimate past between his best friend and his wife.

  Jeffrey was being so sympathetic and comforting that for an impulsive moment she considered telling him about what happened with Lucien. Although she would love to hear his thoughts on the matter, she could not bring herself to say the words aloud. What she had done with Lucien was too humiliating. Too ruinous. And Jeffrey did not need to be burdened by such information about his closest friend.

  While she sat with this wonderful man’s arms around her, she longed for the arms of another man. She felt dreadful.

  “Jeffrey?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry…I…” she stammered awkwardly. “I…Forgive me. You have been very sweet to me, and here I am burdening you with all of my problems. You must have been on your way somewhere this evening, before you saw me running down the street like a complete madwoman. You were very kind to stop and help me, but I’ve taken up enough of your time. Could you please take me home now?”

  Jeffrey nodded and gave instructions to his driver to go to Hamilton’s. He then turned to her, demanding her attention with a glance. “I didn’t stop to help you simply to be kind, but because I care about you very much, Colette. You are a special woman. I admire all that you have done with the bookshop and I am terribly saddened to see you lose it. I am not giving up hope that there still is not something we can do to rectify the situation.”

  “Thank you, Jeffrey.”

  “Does Juliette know about the shop being sold?”

  “I suppose she does by now, and she is probably out of her mind with worry, wondering where I am.”

  “Yes, I’m sure she is worried. However, before we get you home, I wish to say something to you.”

  Sensing a seriousness in him, she nodded to let him know he had her full attention.

  “I want you to know that you can count on me for anything you need. You can come to me any time of day or night and I will help you.”

  When Colette looked at him he was staring at her with a look on his face that puzzled her. He really was a handsome man. Oh, not handsome in the same way Lucien was. Lucien was more—oh, Lucien was just Lucien.

  At Jeffrey’s gallant offer of assistance she could only murmur once again, “I will. Thank you.”

  He was very close to her and he used that to his advantage as he leaned even closer to place a kiss her lips. It was a sweet kiss, gentle and tender. His lips felt warm and inviting. If Lucien had not passionately and thoroughly kissed her a number of times already, Colette might have enjoyed this lovely little kiss from Jeffrey. Slowly he pulled away from her. She gazed at him in the dim light of the carriage.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, easing his head back against the seat. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why do men insist on apologizing after they kiss me?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

  He turned, eyeing her curiously, the glimmer of a smile on his mouth. “Well, well, well. Just how many men have you kissed, Colette?”

  Nervous laughter bubbled from her and she shook her head. “Not that many.”

  The carriage came to an abrupt halt, jostling the two of them.

  With his arm still around her, Jeffrey asked softly, “Would one of those men happen to be Lucien Sinclair?”

  Feeling her cheeks warm in mortification at his question, Colette merely nodded and whispered a faint, “Yes.”

  “I thought that might be the case. It seems you are quite the irresistible woman.”

  She gave an inelegant, helpless shrug.

  Suddenly Jeffrey cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, this time a more aggressive kiss, a more demanding kiss. His mouth covered hers heatedly, his arm pulling her tighter against his chest. Inexplicably, she kissed him back, her hands reaching around his neck. They clung to each other, their lips locked together. Just as she realized how breathless and dizzy she felt, he released her. Stunned by the impact of his kiss, she stared helplessly at him. Although his kiss was wonderful, she knew that something was lacking. The special connection she shared with Lucien had made their kisses more powerful, more intense, and so overwhelming. She forced herself to suppress the feeling that she had somehow betrayed Lucien by kissing Jeffrey.

  Lucien does not care whom I kiss, because Lucien does not want me.

  Giving her a crooked smile, he uttered in a low voice, “And I’m not apologizing for that one.”

  Completely sympathetic now to all the women who had ever swooned at Jeffrey Eddington’s feet, she returned his smile. “I don’t wish for you to.”

  He chuckled deep at her remark. Removing his arm from around her, he sat up straighter. “You should go back inside now and talk things out with your mother.”

  “Thank you, Jeffrey.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it affectionately. “For everything.”

  “You are very welcome. I may have to leave for France in a few weeks, but please remember that I am always here for you if you need me, Colette. You simply have to send word to me.”

  Thinking it a somewhat odd statement for him to make—although very sweet—she could think of nothing to say but, “I will.”

  With that he escorted her out of the carriage, helping her to the ground. He gave a little wave to her as he climbed back inside. Before Colette entered the shop, she turned back toward him with a heavy heart and watched his carriage drive away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mama Mia

  Lucien ascended the wide curving staircase of Devon House and headed to his father’s suite to read to him. He had returned home earlier than he had expected and thought he would use the time to begin their reading session. Just as he approached his father’s room, he heard the murmur of a soft female voice. Immediately ruling out the voice as Nurse Fiona, for she possessed a rather gravelly voice and this one was definitely pleasant, he wondered who had come to visit his father. The realization dawned on him before he actually saw her.

  His heart pounding like thunder in his chest, Lucien stared at Colette Hamilton. She sat before the fire with his father, her head bent over the copy of David Copperfield. Reading aloud softly, her dulcet voice filled the room. In a lovely day gown of deep rose, with a matching jacket and her lustrous sable hair swept artfully off her neck, revealing smooth white skin, she looked incredibly beautiful. He fought a crazy impulse to kiss the back of her elegant neck.

  What was she doing there? Why was she reading with his father, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be doing? How could she sit there and act as if nothing had happened between them just days ago in this very house? In his own bed, for Christ’s sake!

  Lucien had not slept since the night of their earth-shattering encounter. He had not decided if his sleeplessness was caused by his blatant stupidity in having bedded her or by the haunting memories of the exquisite passion they had shared together. In truth the decision hardly mattered. He had made a terrible mistake with her and he did not know how to correct it.

  Yes, he ought to marry her. She deserved that much respect from him. She had been an innocent and he had pressed his advantage with her, no matter how willing and enticing she had acted that evening. He had told her to leave and yet she had only pushed him further beyond his limits of self-control by willingly agreeing to continue.

  Just what was she doing visiting his house unchaperoned that afternoon anyway? This was what came from women being independent and was exactly why he believed women should not be running their own business. It was simply wrong. There was no reas
on for her to be traipsing around town, visiting men in their homes! A beauty like Colette could wreak havoc upon the city. She was a walking temptation.

  He still could not believe that it had even happened.

  She had been astonishingly uninhibited and eager, kissing him passionately and relishing every caress. She had loved it just as much as he had, and her heartfelt words haunted him. “I don’t regret it, not one minute of it. It was heavenly. And the most thrilling and most wonderful, and the most amazing…” And he had humiliated her afterward.

  He let her believe that she meant nothing to him.

  Letting her believe the worst of him was easier than facing the truth himself. In all honesty, being with Colette had been like nothing else in his life.

  And now she hated him. Her icy silence in the carriage when he took her home that night had been cold and final and told him in no uncertain terms what she thought of him.

  The ironic part was his reputation as a rake. He had earned such status a few years ago when he had quickly and effortlessly taken any woman who glanced at him in encouragement. His affairs had been meaningless and heartless, as he desperately struggled to satisfy the aching void within him to forget his disastrous relationship with the beautiful Lady Virginia Warren.

  He conceded that he had a very public but brief affair with a famous opera singer, a fling with a lovely and talented actress, a few weekends in the country with a sweet tavern wench, and a rather long stint with a widowed duchess. And for the most part that was it. Which in his mind did not signify him as a rake, for he never seduced innocents. But after his well-known break with Virginia Warren the word spread, apparently from the young widow, who was not happy when he ended their affair, that Lucien Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly, had a way with women. Because his close friend was Lord Jeffrey Eddington, and Jeffrey did dally with scores of women, and being that society loved to suspect the worst of people, they readily believed that Lucien was more of a scoundrel than he actually was. Granted, his penchant for enjoying himself did nothing to quell the rumors either.