His By Christmas (Hamilton Sisters) (8 page)

7

Pretty Packages

October 1878

London

Yvette Hamilton stood in front of the cheval glass mirror in her dressing room wondering if her new satin damask bustle gown might be a bit too low cut. She turned this way and that, regarding herself critically. The sapphire-blue color definitely complemented her eyes and complexion. She adored the elegant shape of the lace-edged sleeves and loved how the cut of the gown accentuated her narrow waist. Her seamstress had assured her the gown was the epitome of current fashion and her lady’s maid, Maureen, told her she looked wonderful, yet Yvette felt slightly uncomfortable at the amount of her bosom that was exposed. Perhaps if she wore a shawl? But then the gown would lose its impact and no one would see the lovely sleeves.

Sighing heavily, she wished one of her sisters were here to offer advice. Juliette would no doubt tell her to wear the daring dress. Paulette would be uncertain. Lisette would probably tell her to change into something else. She wondered what Colette would say? It had been a month since Colette sailed to America and the house seemed too quiet. Oh, how Yvette missed her sisters!

One by one, each had married the man of her dreams and moved away from home. And now Yvette was all alone. From her earliest memories, her sisters had always been there, a constant presence in her little world. The five of them were intertwined with each other and she could not imagine a life without them. She had depended on them for everything and felt quite lost without them now.

She missed Paulette most of all, for they had been the closest in age. They had shared a bedroom and each other’s secrets their whole lives, even though her sister had always been a little preoccupied with the bookshop and not as interested in society and romantic pursuits as Yvette was. She had always relied on Paulette’s calm, rational approach to problems when she’d been upset. Now Paulette was married to an earl and living in Ireland for half of each year and Yvette missed her terribly. She could write to her sister more often, she supposed. But writing letters had never been Yvette’s forte. However, soon Paulette and her husband, Declan Reeves, would return to London with the two children for Christmas.

Christmas. Two more months. That was when she and her four sisters would all be together again.

Yvette simply had to be engaged to Lord Shelley by then. She had to be.

All her sisters had experienced romantic adventures and been swept off their feet by handsome men who loved them. When would something wonderful happen to Yvette?

Why, her sister Colette’s story was nothing short of romantic! Colette had been struggling to save their family from financial ruin and rescue their father’s failing bookshop when the handsome and debonair Lucien Sinclair walked into Hamilton’s Book Shoppe one day. Not only had Colette managed to make the bookshop an incredible success, but Lucien Sinclair had fallen as madly in love with her as she had with him. Now her sister was the Marchioness of Stancliff, who had cared and provided for all her younger sisters by bringing them to live with her and Lucien at Devon House when their mother moved away to Brighton. Colette was the only reason Yvette lived in such a grand and stately manner, had a debut Season, and possessed all her pretty clothes. The Hamilton sisters would all be lost if not for Colette and Lucien’s love for each other.

And Juliette! Oh, how Yvette longed to have thrilling and daring adventures like Juliette had! Her audacious and slightly scandalous second oldest sister had been bold enough to run away to America. She’d secretly stowed away on the ship of the dashingly handsome and swashbuckling sea captain, Harrison Fleming, who had rescued her from danger. And as they’d sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, they had fallen madly in love with each other. A shipboard romance! Harrison and Juliette now spent their time traveling the world on his clipper ship, visiting exotic and foreign places, and living on their grand and beautiful seashore estate in America.

Oh, and sweet, romantic Lisette! While engaged to her childhood sweetheart, Lisette had accidentally collided with Quinton Roxbury one winter day and it had been love at first sight. But Quinton, a boyishly handsome and charismatic architect with political ambitions, had already been affianced to the daughter of a duke. Lisette had been torn between the love of two men! What could be more romantic? Lisette and Quinton had struggled and fought against their impossibly passionate feelings for each other, until their hearts could stand no more. Causing somewhat of a scandal, they’d both broken off their engagements and finally married each other. True love had won out.

Then Paulette, the most practical of the sisters, had surprised them all when she fell in love with a brooding and mysterious Irish earl. Declan Reeves, a handsome widower with a sweet little daughter, had been accused of murdering his wife in Ireland. Ignoring the rumors and whispers of his guilt, Paulette had been swept away by her love and infatuation for Declan, and they had set out to prove his innocence. Whoever would have guessed that Paulette would have the most romantic affair of all? And would become the Countess of Cashelmore on top of it?

So what was there for Yvette to do? She’d never liked working in the bookshop when she was a little girl and she did not possess any business sense or had a head for numbers like Colette and Paulette. Restless and easily bored, she had little interest in public works like Lisette and Quinton. She was not as wild and adventurous as Juliette, for she was too afraid to go away someplace on her own.

Yvette was simply the baby of the family, the youngest of the pretty Hamilton daughters, but altogether quite uninteresting and alone in London in the shadow of her more glamorous sisters.

Something exciting just had to happen to her too!

Studying her reflection in the mirror now, she saw only an impatient and eager face longing for a romance of her own. All she could do was try to make something happen. Which was why she was wearing the daring sapphire gown.

Attending a ball at Lady Abbott’s townhouse this October evening, she would be sure to see Lord Shelley there. For the last month she had played her cards quite well and had most definitely caught his interest. Tonight, however, she intended to eclipse Jane Fairmont entirely. Tonight she would elicit some romance with the handsome future duke.

There was a gentle knock at her bedroom door and her mother entered, balancing on her elegant cane, which Yvette knew she did not truly need.

“Your aunt and uncle have arrived to escort you to the ball. They hate me and I detest the two of them.
Oh, comme je les déteste ces deux-là.
”

Yvette gritted her teeth in agreement. No one in their family was overly fond of their father’s elder brother and his critical wife, but they were a necessary evil and had willingly agreed to escort Yvette to social events. She supposed they were better than dragging her mother along, even if Genevieve had agreed to go, which she would never do. Her mother hated leaving the house and had become somewhat of a recluse.

“You look lovely,
ma fille
.
C’est une robe exquise. Les hommes ne pourront pas s’empêcher de te regarder dans cette tenue.
That dress is stunning. The color is perfect on you.”

“Thank you,
Maman
, but you don’t think it’s too low cut, do you?” Yvette asked apprehensively. When she looked down all she saw was cleavage. It worried her.

Genevieve Hamilton laughed gaily and waved her free hand. “Not at all. I used to wear lower! You would be shocked at my scandalous clothes back in the day. You would not believe such things of your mother.
J’ai porté des robes avec des décolletés encore plus profonds que celui-là. J’étais assez populaire de mon temps. Oh, qu’est ce que tu ne sais pas au sujet de ta propre mère!
”

“Maman!”
Yvette could not help but giggle at the thought of her mother playing the coquette.

“We are not all that different,
ma petite
. You are more like me than you know. I wish you luck with your handsome gentleman this evening.”

Yvette kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Do not do anything foolish that you will regret, and”—Genevieve winked at her—“and do not settle for less than you deserve.
J’ai porté des robes avec des décolletés encore plus profonds que celui-là. J’étais assez populaire de mon temps. Oh, qu’est ce que tu ne sais pas au sujet de ta propre mère!
”

Yvette squared her shoulders. “It is not my intention to settle at all.”

Her mother smiled proudly at her. “Oh,
mais oui
, you are my daughter.”

“Good night,
Maman
. Don’t wait up for me.” Yvette kissed her mother’s cheek. She then grabbed her black velvet cape and reticule and hurried down the stairs to greet her chaperones. She hastily buttoned up her cape to avoid her aunt’s certain disapproval of her gown.

Lady Cecilia Hamilton was dressed fairly fashionably, if not severely, in deep purple. Her thin blond hair was pulled tightly from her pinched face, accentuating her perpetual frown. Lord Randall Hamilton, her father’s half brother, was a tall, balding man with thick bushy eyebrows. When she was younger, Yvette had feared her aunt and uncle. For after her father died, they had always threatened to cast the Hamilton sisters into the street if the bookshop failed, and it very nearly did because their father had left the shop in dire straits and left them next to nothing to live on. Then Randall and Cecilia had tried to marry off Colette and Juliette, and they had been thrilled when Colette married Lucien Sinclair and they could claim a marquis in the family.

Just wait until they had a duke in the family!

“You’re late, Yvette,” Randall stated with a deep frown.

“Good evening, Aunt Cecilia, Uncle Randall. Please forgive me.” She gave them each a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, marveling that her kind, bookish, absent-minded father had been related to this cold, stern gentleman. “Will Cousin Nigel be joining us?”

Cecilia and Randall exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

“Unfortunately not this evening,” Cecilia said through tight lips. “He had a previous engagement.”

Yvette knew that her only cousin was a troubled young man who favored gambling and drinking more than anything else. Her aunt and uncle had been attempting to get Nigel married and settled down for years, but to no avail. Their son had been an ongoing disappointment to them. Yvette knew that Nigel was supposed to attend the ball with them this evening, and she hoped that whatever had happened to detain him this time wasn’t anything too scandalous. “Perhaps he’ll be along later,” she added to cheer them.

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Randall said tersely. He then escorted them to the door and the Devon House butler let them out.

“Thank you, Granger.” Yvette smiled at the butler who had always been so kind to her.

“Have a good evening, Miss Yvette.” He favored her with a wide grin.

Lady Abbott’s townhouse in Mayfair was stylish and large enough to host a good-sized gathering and an orchestra, which was playing rather loudly when they arrived.

Once inside the house, Yvette quickly glanced around looking for Lord Shelley, wondering if he had already arrived. As she removed her velvet cape, she saw a deep frown of disapproval form on Aunt Cecilia’s face at the sight of her gown.

“Really, Yvette,” she muttered low. As she scowled, the lines on her face wrinkled in frustration. “How could your mother allow you out of the house wearing that?”

“Mother loved my dress, Aunt Cecilia. It is the height of fashion.” Yvette smiled brightly as if nothing were amiss. She would not let her aunt sour her good mood. She was at a party wearing a beautiful gown and about to see her future husband. What could be better? As she ignored her aunt, her attention was caught by a familiar grinning face.

“Miss Hamilton! They’re about to begin the first set. Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

“Of course, Lord Calvert! I would be happy to dance with you!” Yvette glanced at her aunt and uncle with a smile. “Please excuse us.” Gratefully, she took his arm as he led her to the ballroom.

Lord James Calvert was a good-looking younger son of the Earl of Campbell and had declared his love for Yvette on more than one occasion. She found him to be charming and funny and quite a good dancer, but had refused him most sweetly. Yet he still pursued her. As for tonight she was happy for his company and the immediate escape he provided from her aunt and uncle. He took her in his arms and they moved to the music of a quadrille.

“You look lovely this evening, Miss Hamilton. Your gown is most becoming.”

Yvette noticed his eyes gaze briefly on her bosom and she laughed. “Lord Calvert, you’ve become an even finer dancer than I remember.”

“That is only because I’m dancing with you.” Lord Calvert flirted with her.

She smiled at him as they marked the steps in time to the music. Yvette enjoyed every minute of the dance, thanking him when it ended. She excused herself and headed to the ladies’ retiring room, where she met her friend Lady Katherine Spencer and the two of them greeted each other with a warm embrace.

“Kate! Your gown is simply gorgeous!” Yvette exclaimed with excitement. “That color green brings out your eyes.”

Her friend stared at her, open-mouthed. “Yvette,” she whispered, “your gown . . .”

Already a bit self-conscious, Yvette worried. “Is it too low? My dressmaker and mother told me it wasn’t, but now I feel overexposed, and—oh, Kate, what are you thinking? Please tell me the truth.”

“The gown is very low cut, yes, but that’s not all of it.” Kate looked her up and down with an expression that bordered on awe. “It’s everything together, Yvette. It’s the deep blue color, the way it clings to you, the sleeves. I don’t even know the word that would describe you. You look womanly and sophisticated. I’ve never seen you look better, to tell you the truth. The men will be falling all over themselves for you tonight.”