When His Kiss Is Wicked (11 page)

“I understand now,” Lucien whispered. “You need not explain.”

She gave a half-smile as she gazed up at him. “You are very chivalrous.”

“No. No, I am not,” he said honestly, thinking that at the moment his thoughts of her were far from chivalrous. “Remember what I said to you, Colette. Make sure you choose a husband you want. Don’t let your uncle choose for you.”

“Thank you, Lucien,” she whispered. She nodded obediently and looked up at him in expectation.

The sound of his name on her soft lips and her beautiful face lifted to his in anticipation of a kiss sent a flood of desire coursing through him that was almost unbearable. Lucien craved nothing more than to pull her against him and place his mouth over hers, branding her in a searing kiss. He ached to push her up against the wall, right there in that tiny little vestibule, lift the skirt of her gown, and drive himself into her over and over again. God, but he wanted her. Unable to stop himself, he touched her cheek softly, tracing the line of her jaw to her chin. Knowing without a doubt that even one kiss, the lightest kiss, would push him over the edge of a dangerous precipice from which there could be no return, Lucien took a step back from her, his body trembling with torment.

“Good night, Colette,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and edgy with unquenched desire.

As he walked home that June evening, he wished the night air were much cooler.

Exhausted, Colette snuggled under the pale yellow gingham quilt that covered her bed and closed her eyes tightly, but it was no use. She kept reliving the evening with Lucien Sinclair and the kisses that had almost happened.

Juliette entered the bedroom they had shared their whole life. It was a cozy room for all that it was small. Pale yellow wallpaper dotted with sprays of colorful flowers lined the walls, and a well-worn patterned carpet in shades of green and gold covered the floor. Four gilt-framed scenes of tranquil country life hung from ribbon above the mantel and a small writing desk stood in the corner. Juliette dimmed the light that rested on the nightstand between their two beds.

“Yvette needs new shoes,” Juliette said, climbing into her own bed. “She’s completely outgrown the ones we just bought her.”

Colette yawned. “I know. I already left money for Lisette to take her for a new pair tomorrow. Paulette will simply have to stay with Mother again while they are out, because I’ll need you in the shop with me tomorrow to help with the first delivery of the stationery.”

The empty silence declared Juliette’s ambivalent feelings of having to help in the shop. She would never shirk her share of responsibilities, but she made it very clear that she would rather be doing anything else but working in the bookshop.

“What do you think of Lisette and Henry Brooks?” Colette asked.

“I think Lisette will marry him eventually, but I don’t think she’ll be happy with him in the end.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. Henry is a nice enough man, but not quite right for her. But Lisette, just like Mother did in marrying Father, will settle for him because she is afraid to try for something better, and she will end up miserable. Which is something I for one don’t ever intend to do.”

No, Juliette would never settle for less than exactly what she wanted. She would never change or try to be something she wasn’t to please a man. Which made Colette wonder about herself. In attempting to marry to save her family and the bookshop, would she too be settling? How far would she go to save them? Up till now she had refused her uncle’s choices because she had found his choice of men unacceptable, indeed quite repulsive. But how long could that go on? She
had
to marry at some point.

“Why do you think Lord Waverly stayed for dinner?” Juliette asked in the darkness.

“Because he was hungry?” Colette answered with her eyes still closed.

A down-filled pillow landed smack on her face. Sputtering indignantly, she sat up and hurled it back at Juliette. “Go to sleep already!”

Catching the pillow, Juliette laughed before asking again, “Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why he was here tonight?”

“No,” she pronounced firmly. Colette did not want to think about it anymore. In fact, her head throbbed from puzzling over Lucien’s actions and wondering at his motivations.

“There is something you’re not telling me about Lord Disapproves of Everything Fun, isn’t there, Colette?”

“No,” she murmured guiltily, hiding her face in the blankets.

“Yes, there is. I know it. He suddenly shows up at the shop and joins us all for dinner for no reason? And we know it’s certainly not me he is interested in!” Juliette paused thoughtfully before asking, “Has he kissed you?”

“What makes you think such a thing?” Colette attempted to sound outraged by her sister’s question.

“He looks at you like he wants to kiss you. And your face was flushed all night.”

“Is it that obvious?” Colette whispered, grateful for the dark.

“So you did kiss him! I knew it!” Juliette declared triumphantly, and Colette knew she was smiling. “When did it happen?”

“That night in Lord Hutton’s garden.”

“Tell me everything,” Juliette demanded.

Relieved to finally share the experience, Colette confessed all.

Upon hearing the details of Colette’s romantic encounter with Lord Waverly, Juliette was almost speechless. “Aside from being appalled that Baron Sheffield thought he could have his way with you, I am very impressed with Lord Waverly’s rescue techniques.”

Colette said nothing.

After a tense silence, Juliette asked, “Did you like kissing him?”

“Yes,” she replied with an anguished sigh. “And, Juliette, I cannot forget about it, and I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“That I liked kissing him and I want him to kiss me again. He wanted to kiss me tonight, I’m sure of it.”

“Did he?”

“No, but we came close a few times.”
Achingly close.

“What do you think it means?”

“I haven’t a clue.” Whatever was happening between her and Lucien left her very confused. Colette had begun to anticipate his unexpected visits, found herself yearning to talk to him, and felt a desire to be near him. He seemed to care for her, seemed interested in her life and her family, and from the way he kissed her, he obviously found her attractive, but she did not know how he felt about her.

Juliette said with a superior air, “I’ve heard things about him.”

“Don’t tease me, Juliette. What do you know?” Colette had heard rumors of Lucien’s wild ways, but the stories seemed incongruous to the Lucien she knew. Well, except that night in the garden. Once again, nothing about Lucien made any sense.

“Well, I’ve heard that he has avoided marriage for years.” Juliette seemed reluctant to share this news. She sighed heavily. “But I think you should know that now he wants to settle down and marry before his father passes away.”

“I haven’t heard that,” Colette cried in disbelief. Lucien had never said a word to her about marriage. “Who told you such a thing?”

“Jeffrey Eddington.”

“Oh,” Colette murmured softly as realization dawned. “He would know better than anybody.”

“And Lord Waverly already has a lady in mind.”

Colette’s heart suddenly beat frantically in her chest. Lucien already knew whom he intended to marry? And he kissed her passionately only last week? She dared to ask, “Did Lord Eddington say who she was?”

Juliette hesitated before answering her. “Lady Faith Bromleigh.”

Colette mentally checked off a list of names of women she had met during the Season, but the name did not ring a bell. “I have never heard of her.”

“She’s a plain, quiet little thing. Her father is a known for being very protective of her.” Juliette was quiet for a moment. “Are you very disappointed?”

Ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Colette responded weakly, “Why should I be disappointed?”

“Because he kissed you, but he is interested in marrying another girl.”

Colette put up a brave front. “Just because I kissed him doesn’t mean that I’ve lost all my senses. I have no desire to be a countess or a marchioness someday. You know that means nothing to me. Yet I’m well aware of Lucien’s reputation and that he can have his choice of women. I don’t expect anything from him.”

“You call him Lucien now?”

“I suppose so,” Colette admitted quietly, surprised that she had referred to him that way to Juliette.

“He was engaged once before, you know, a few years ago,” Juliette continued. “To Lady Somebody or Other, but she broke off the engagement after some sort of scandal and left for Europe.”

Colette sat upright in bed once again. “How on earth do you
know
all these things?”

Juliette stated with a self-evident tone, “Because I ask.”

Colette wondered what type of woman this other lady was whom Lucien had wanted to be his wife. Was she prim and proper? And what had happened to end it?

“Colette, has Lord Waverly said anything at all to you about marriage?” Juliette asked in a thoughtful manner.

“He told me not to allow Uncle Randall to force me into marrying someone I didn’t want.” Her words echoed hollowly in her ears. If Lucien had been interested in marrying her, would he not have said something else to her?

“Well, it seems that absolutely nothing that stuffy lord does makes any sense. He disapproves of your working in the bookshop; he saves you from the likes of the fat baron, kisses you passionately in the moonlight, shows up at your house unexpectedly and dines with your family, but intends to court another girl. I think I might slap him if I see him again.”

Colette finally laughed. “He’s no more confusing than Lord Eddington.”

“At least he hasn’t kissed me! Or you, for that matter.” She gave Colette a sharp look. “Has he?”

“No! Lord Eddington is very charming and sweet, but I don’t think of him that way.”

“Me either. But I think he may have feelings for you, Colette.”

They were both quiet, each settling down among the covers, lost in her own thoughts. Juliette’s words spun around in Colette’s head. Did Lucien truly intend to marry Faith Bromleigh? Did Jeffrey Eddington have feelings for her?

“I don’t like that Uncle Randall was here today,” Juliette said ominously.

“Well, I don’t like that Mother didn’t tell us about the visit,” Colette added. “It makes me nervous.”

“I’m sure Uncle Randall is upset that we haven’t made suitable matches yet. What do you think he said to mother?”

“That he’s at the end of his rope with the pair of us.”

“Would you marry Lord Waverly if he asked you?”

Colette’s heart flipped over in her chest at the mention of Lucien’s name and marriage. Would she marry him if he asked her? “That’s a ridiculous question. He would never marry someone like me.”

“But it would solve your problems. He’d be a good husband. He’s powerful enough to tell Uncle Randall to go to the devil. He would take all us girls in, and we wouldn’t have to worry about money. And he is handsome, and by your own account, a very good kisser.”

“And he’d sell the bookshop right out from under me.”

“Oh, who cares about the stupid shop? It’s just a pile of moldy old books! I don’t know why you love it so much.”

The undisguised scorn in her sister’s tone of voice caused Colette to flinch. “I just do. You needn’t make fun of me simply because you don’t understand. Do I make fun of you for wanting to go to New York?”

Juliette remained oddly silent in response. Colette did love the shop and felt proud of the work she had put into redoing it. No one could take that away from her. And she would never settle for a man who wanted her to give it up either.

The bells above the door jingled as Lucien walked into Hamilton’s Book Shoppe a few days later. Surprised by the large number of customers in the shop, he glanced about, searching for Colette.

He caught her eye as she was helping a woman with a ridiculously feathered hat choose a picture book for her grandchild. Colette’s beautiful face registered her surprise at seeing him, and he felt a secret thrill at knowing he disconcerted her. He nodded to let her know that he would wait until she was finished.

Lucien was astounded by the changes Colette had made in the shop. A month ago it was a dismal mess. Now bright and airy, with the books attractively arranged and organized, the shop bustled with people eagerly buying books. Comfortable chairs were arranged for customers to sit in and read at their leisure. Fine stationery and pens were elegantly displayed in a glass-fronted cabinet. Fresh wildflowers filled a china pitcher, adding a cheerful splash of color on top of the counter. Colette had transformed the place. The old dark bookshop had changed into a friendly and inviting place to be. He watched as she sold books to six different customers, wrapping their packages with bright green ribbon.

When there was finally a lull she turned her attention to him, asking, “Back so soon?”

“You really must work on your greetings to customers.”

“Forgive me.” Colette shook her head and smiled ruefully. “How may I help you?”

“Now, that is more like it!” He grinned at her.

“Is there something you need?” she questioned him suspiciously.

“I never purchased any books the last time. You and your siren sisters distracted me.”

Her sweet laughter floated around him. “In that case, how may I help you today, Lord Waverly?” she asked in her most efficient shopkeeper tone.

Following her lead, he played the typical customer. “Well, Miss Hamilton, I would like to purchase more books for my father. I was thinking of some of Charles Dickens’s work.”

“Oh, I’ve just sold my last one! A copy of
Bleak House,
” she explained. “His books have been so popular since he passed away. I’ve ordered more, but they won’t be in for a few more days.”

“How unfortunate. I suppose I must wait and return when they arrive.”

Colette guided him to the counter and gave him a small white card. “If you fill this out with your address, we can have the books delivered to you.”

“You now provide a delivery service?”

She nodded with a look of pride. “Yes, I’ve hired a local boy. I am teaching him how to read, and in return he will run errands for me. In the meantime, I can help you choose something else to tide you over until the Dickens books arrive.”

He agreed to her suggestions as they made their way among the shelves. They were still selecting books for his father when the clock chimed four. Colette cried, “Good heavens! I’m late for my appointment with Mr. Kenworth! I must hurry.”

Hurrying to the door to their quarters upstairs, she called up to her sister. “Paulette? Can you come down here now?”

Lucien watched in fascination as Colette quickly grabbed her bonnet and gloves from the peg hanging on the wall. Tying the ribbons of the bonnet securely under her chin and tugging her gloves onto her hands, Colette murmured with a worried frown, “I really mustn’t be late. I promised I would be there at quarter past the hour.”

“Oh, Lord Waverly! I didn’t know you were here!” Paulette cried in delight as she entered the shop. “How nice to see you!”

“Good afternoon, Miss Hamilton.” Lucien couldn’t help but smile at her sweet face; she was so obviously happy to see him.

“Paulette, can you manage the shop by yourself until Juliette returns?” Colette asked, hastily gathering a sheaf of papers and placing them in a leather case. “She should be back shortly.”

Paulette, thrilled at being given such an important responsibility, stood straighter. “Of course I can!”

Uncomfortable with a fifteen-year-old girl alone in the shop, Lucien volunteered, “I can keep an eye on her until Juliette returns.”

Colette’s blue eyes widened at his words. “Thank you! Oh, and Paulette, make sure you wrap up Lord Waverly’s purchases. Tell Juliette I’ll be back before we close. Good-bye!”

With a little wave of her hand, she rushed from the shop. A strong sense of disappointment filled him at Colette’s departure. Lucien shook himself at the feeling, not liking it.

“Your sister works very hard, doesn’t she?” he remarked quietly to Paulette, who had gone to stand behind the polished counter, trying her best to appear professional.

“Yes, but it’s because she loves it.”

“Do you think she works too hard?” Lucien handed her the two books he had selected for his father.

As she slowly began to wrap the books, Paulette looked thoughtful. “Sometimes I do think she works too hard, and that’s why I’m in a terrible situation.”

Intrigued by the girl’s somber expression, Lucien took it upon himself to question her. “What terrible situation?”

“Can I trust you to keep a secret?”

“Absolutely.”

She gave him a measuring look as she weighed whether she would confide in him or not. Glancing nervously around the room to ascertain that no one was lurking nearby and listening to their private conversation, she dropped her voice to a faint whisper. Lucien had to lean in closer to hear her. “Well, I’ve learned something that will help Colette to not worry so much or work so hard, which is good. But it will also make her very sad, which leaves me rather torn. I don’t know if I should tell her or not.”

“Will she learn of the situation eventually?” he asked.

“Yes, but there is nothing she can do to prevent it, and it will only cause her pain to know about it beforehand.”

Touched by Paulette’s devotion to her sister, Lucien said, “In the meantime, this indecision is causing you some pain as well.”

She nodded sadly, her sweet face anguished. Her remarkable resemblance to Colette left him disconcerted. He wanted to help her. “Does anyone else know of this? Juliette?”

“No. No one knows. I only know because I was listening—that is, I overheard my mother and Uncle Randall talking the other afternoon.”

Recalling the strained and charged emotions at the dinner table when their uncle’s visit was mentioned, Lucien could only imagine what had occurred. He felt oddly concerned by Paulette’s dilemma. “Perhaps if you share this information with me, I could help you decide what to do. Also, I have found that sometimes just telling another person can make you feel better. And as an older and wiser adult, I can give you a more knowledgeable point of view upon which to base your decision.”

“If I tell you, you must promise me that you won’t go and tell Colette behind my back. You will let me decide what to do?”

He could tell that she was truly concerned about her sister and wanted his help, but was fearful of confiding in him. Her quandary pulled at his heartstrings. “As a man of honor, I vow to keep your secret. I will only offer my advice to you, which you may use as you see fit. I promise I will leave the final decision up to your discretion.”

Again, she looked him over as if weighing whether he were trustworthy enough and then glanced around the shop, which fortunately for them was still devoid of customers at that moment. “I shall tell you, then.”

“I am honored by your confidence in me.”

Rapidly the words rushed from her mouth, as if she feared she might change her mind before she could tell him. “My mother gave Uncle Randall the deed to sell not just the bookshop but the entire building, and she does not want Colette to know about it until after the sale is completed.”

Even Lucien, who instantly understood the financial and societal motivations Colette’s mother and uncle would have in selling the building and heartily agreed with them, could not help but grasp the devastating emotional impact such a sale would have upon Colette. And just when it seemed that the bookshop might actually be profitable. Colette would be heartbroken, and indeed, even if she knew about their plans, she could do little to prevent her mother from selling the shop. Mrs. Hamilton and their uncle had made a wise decision in not sharing the information with Colette, for she would surely try to change their minds about selling the building.

Paulette continued to explain her reasoning to him. “I know it would hurt Colette if they sold the shop, especially without telling her, because she loves it so. I love it too, but Colette lives for it. And it is beginning to make a small profit. But Colette works so hard, too hard. Uncle Randall and my mother think it’s the reason she won’t accept a husband. So maybe it would be good for her to not have the bookshop to distract all her time. Perhaps it would be better for her not to have all of us as a burden.”

“First of all,” Lucien finally interrupted her, “although I’ve only known her for a short time, I feel I know enough about Colette to tell you that you and your sisters are not a burden to her. She loves you. And she loves this little shop. And yes, I agree, she works entirely too hard, but I think your mother and uncle have only her best interests at heart. If I were you I would keep this information that you were not supposed to be privy to in the first place, to yourself. They are right. Do not tell Colette. If your mother is determined to sell the shop, and it is in her name, then she has every right to do so and there is nothing Colette can do about it.”

Paulette nodded sadly. “But I feel I should tell her. She’s made so many changes and put so much of herself into this bookshop. I can’t bear to think of how she will feel when she discovers that she has lost it.”

He patted her hand in comfort. “You’re a very good sister, Paulette.”

“I don’t feel like one.” She sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world were on her small shoulders.

“What do you think you shall do?”

“I’m not sure yet, but you don’t think I should tell her?”

“No. I believe it would be wiser not to.”

Once again she nodded thoughtfully. “Most likely.”

“Yes,” he agreed quietly.

She finished wrapping his books and he paid for them. As she handed him his change, Paulette’s youthful brow furrowed with worry and she whispered quickly, “You promise you won’t tell Colette?”

“I promise. I am a man of my word.”

“I thought you were a rake!” she blurted out, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“Eavesdropping again?” He gave her a knowing look, and from her flushed cheeks he knew he had guessed correctly. “But if you thought me such a scoundrel, why would you confide in me?”

“Because I like you, and I think you are a fine gentleman, no matter what Juliette says about you,” she declared fervently.

He laughed loudly at her comment. He definitely had a devoted little friend in Paulette Hamilton.

Juliette entered the shop then. She immediately took in their conspiratorial stance and their laughter and assumed the worst. With her arms folded across her chest, she eyed them suspiciously. “I heard you say my name and I just know you both are saying dreadful things about me.”

“Not every conversation is about you, Juliette!” Paulette responded and gazed back at Lucien with serious eyes. “Thank you, Lord Waverly.”

“I think you may call me Lucien at this point.”

Her thrilled grin lit up her face and Lucien felt rewarded.

“What have the two of you been up to?” Juliette asked curiously.

“I’ve told Paulette my deepest, darkest secrets and she has promised not to tell anyone. Good afternoon, ladies.” Taking his prettily wrapped books, Lucien winked at Paulette, placed his hat on his head, and left the shop, leaving a bewildered Juliette and a smiling Paulette behind.

As he walked toward his carriage, he lost himself in thought. Colette had put a tremendous amount of work into improving the store, and from personal observation the changes seemed to be profitable. She had expanded business and skillfully promoted the shop to increase sales. For a woman, she had made incredible strides in a short amount of time. Hell, even for a man! He had to admit he was impressed by her remarkable innovations. It would be a shame to see all of her hard work wasted.

Suddenly it occurred to him what he could do to help, not just Colette but all the Hamilton sisters.

Although he couldn’t prevent Genevieve Hamilton from selling the building, there was definitely something he could do to make sure Colette did not lose the bookshop. He had the means at his disposal and he could have his solicitor arrange the transaction anonymously. Yes, the more he thought about it, the better his idea seemed. Although he did not dare examine why it was so important to him to help Colette Hamilton.