14
Let Nothing You Dismay
Later that day the little bells above the door of Hamilton's Book Shoppe jingled cheerily as Lady Emmeline Tarleton entered with careful steps. She took a deep breath and looked around the store with observant eyes.
“Good afternoon and welcome to Hamilton's. May I help you?” The voice of a pretty blond-haired woman asked from behind a neat counter.
Good Heavens! Was that her?
But no. This couldn't possibly be Quinton's mistress! She was entirely too young. Why, she was still a girl! She'd probably not even had her coming-out yet. As pretty as she was, she couldn't imagine Quinton involved with someone barely out of the schoolroom. Emmeline sighed in relief.
“I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for,” Emmeline stated in all honesty. She still was not certain she was doing the right thing by coming to the shop in the first place. When she had made discreet inquiries about Lisette Hamilton, all she had learned was that a Hamilton sister had married the Earl of Waverly and done exceedingly well for a girl of little consequence and that her family owned a bookshop. So while out shopping this afternoon, she had decided to stop by and see for herself. “Do you mind if I look around for bit?”
“Not at all,” the girl said graciously. “If you have any questions, please let me know.”
“Thank you.” Surprised to see a female in business, and one so young, for she couldn't be more than seventeen, Emmeline didn't know what kind of conclusion to draw.
She looked around the store and found it to be quite charming. Although not one for reading books in general, Emmeline had visited bookshops on occasion and had to admit that this one was the nicest she had ever seen. It was light and airy and very welcoming. Shoppers milled about, browsing through books that were attractively arranged on organized shelves and tables while elegant and tasteful signs hanging from ribbons indicated each subject area. Comfortable leather armchairs were situated in secluded nooks for quiet reading and perusing. There was even an area designated especially for children's books, and a colorful rug covered the floor with small tables and chairs at just the perfect size for small readers. Another area was devoted to stationery, which was much more to Emmeline's liking. There was a vast array of writing paper, calling cards, pens, and the like.
Emmeline wandered through the aisles, impressed by the high quality and gracious atmosphere, and she wondered why she had not happened to shop there before. If she searched her memory, perhaps she had heard a friend or two mention a lovely shop off Bond Street but she'd most likely dismissed it owing to her lack of interest in books.
Now she was enchanted, for she hadn't seen anything like it. It was almost as if she had stepped into someone's tastefully decorated home. The store was also decorated for Christmas with bright red ribbons and festoons of green garlands. She almost forgot the reason she had come.
She made her way back to the front of the shop to the young woman. The girl was just wrapping up a book for a woman with a fur hat. Emmeline watched as the girl tied the package with dark green ribbon with startling efficiency.
“I'm sure your son will enjoy this book, Mrs. Deane,” she said.
“Thank you, Miss Hamilton,” the woman said. “I will return to pick up my calling cards next week.”
Miss Hamilton.
Emmeline's heart quickened. The lady left the shop and Emmeline was face-to-face with the girl.
“Is there anything in particular I can help you with?” she asked.
Are you kissing my future husband?
Emmeline wanted to ask but dared not. No, she knew that this was not the woman who had been seen with Quinton.
“I'm . . . I'm not sure,” Emmeline began.
“We have a lovely selection of Christmas cards that just arrived this morning. Would you care to see them?” she suggested brightly.
Emmeline nodded in agreement as two shoppers came to the counter to pay for their purchases.
The girl looked just beyond where Emmeline was standing. “Oh, Lisette, there you are! Would you please show this lady our new Christmas card selection?”
Emmeline froze.
“Yes, of course,” a lovely voice uttered from behind.
“Won't you follow me?”
Slowly Emmeline turned to face her. Lisette Hamilton. Her heart plummeted to her feet. Oh God. This,
this
was the woman Quinton had been kissing in Brighton. There was not a doubt in Emmeline's mind that a man would want to kiss this woman.
She was incredibly beautiful. Although eerily similar in looks to the younger girl behind the counter, who was obviously her sister, Lisette appeared much more womanly. She stood shorter than herself, was more petite, and wore a well-cut gown of pale violet with darker velvet trim. She had rich auburn-, almost russet-, colored hair arranged fashionably atop her head with a few loose tendrils around her face and deep green eyes fringed with long dark lashes. She possessed a small, straight nose and a mouth that looked as if smiling came very easily. Her skin was creamy and undoubtedly soft. There was intelligence and humor in her expression and an unmistakable sweetness.
Emmeline was stunned. She had not been entirely sure what she would discover on her little outing today, but she had expected to find an entirely different sort of woman. A woman far worldlier and far less innocent-looking . . .
Lisette Hamilton gave her a pleasant smile. “Would you care to see the cards?”
“Yes, of course,” Emmeline answered woodenly and followed behind as she was led to another counter with an attractive display of prettily designed Christmas cards.
Any other time she would have been delighted to see such a collection of adorable and cheerful greeting cards of glowing, chubby-cheeked children and pastoral snowcovered scenes. But not now. Now she simply stood there with a false smile plastered on her face while Lisette Hamilton explained the different sizes, types, and prices of the cards that were available for purchase. Emmeline heard none of it.
It suddenly occurred to her that this woman was not Quinton's mistress. She was just not mistress material. Call it female intuition, but Emmeline did not believe that Lisette Hamilton was anyone's mistress. There was too much of an air of morality or goodness or old-fashioned sweetness about her to think of her as a party to anything so sordid.
And this revelation terrified Emmeline.
She could excuse a mistress as merely a meaningless dalliance with a low-class woman as some men were wont to do. But if Quinton had been kissing
this
particular woman in a shop in Brighton, their entanglement together was far more serious than a mistress. Emmeline was certain of that.
“Now this is a charming one . . .” Lisette held up a pretty card embossed with gilt featuring a bright bouquet of poinsettia and edged with garlands of flowers.
“You are Miss Lisette Hamilton?” Emmeline asked abruptly.
The woman gave a brief nod. “Yes.”
“And this is your family's shop?”
“Yes, my father first opened it before I was born, but since he passed away, my sisters and I now manage it.”
Emmeline's eyes darted around. “It's a lovely shop.”
“Thank you,” she smiled with pride. “We like to think so.”
“Do you work here every day?”
“No, not always. I'm simply helping more during the Christmas season because I enjoy it.”
“It's most unusual for women to manage a store.”
“It's unusual, yes, but becoming more common,” Lisette explained matter-of-factly. “Women are just as capable as men when it comes to business. In fact, in some ways we are far superior.”
Struck by Lisette's warm and personable demeanor, Emmeline grew braver in her questioning. “Do you find it is difficult to acquire a husband with such thinking?”
“Not at all.” She shook her head and seemed to blush. “I'm already engaged to be married.”
As if struck by a thunderbolt, Emmeline cried in disbelief, “You are?”
“Yes. I'm to be married in June. Is that so shocking?”
Yes!
Emmeline thought. “No . . . No. I was just a bit surprised. From what I've found, most men prefer women who are less . . . independent, shall we say?”
“Yes, that is true,” Lisette agreed with her. “But I am lucky in that Henry approves of my being independent.”
“Henry?” Emmeline questioned, stunned by this turn of events. Surely Penelope had to be mistaken. It simply was not possible that this sweet woman, who was betrothed to another, had been kissing Quinton a few days ago in Brighton. But there was a way to find out.
“He is my fiancé.”
“Well, I wish you much happiness in your marriage, Miss Hamilton. I'm going to be married, too. Next month, as a matter of fact.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say Quinton's name to gauge Lisette's reaction, but she thought the better of it.
“Oh, how wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I wish you happiness in your marriage as well.”
“Thank you,” Emmeline said, turning her attention to the display on the counter. “Now, about those Christmas cards. I think I like the ones with the horse and sleigh. They would be perfect to send to my dear friends in Brighton.” She paused deliberately, tilting her head. “Have you ever been to Brighton, Miss Hamilton?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I was just there last week visiting my mother. It's such a lovely town.”
Emmeline's heart sank and her head spun. Oh, something was terribly, terribly wrong and she had not the first idea how to remedy the situation. This woman
had
been in Brighton with Quinton. Penelope was right. What was Quinton thinking? And worst of all, Emmeline realized that she did not know her fiancé at all. Feeling sick to her stomach, Emmeline needed to leave the store immediately. She had to get out of there, away from this woman.
“I think I shall bring a friend of mine by first to ask her opinion of the cards. Perhaps I shall come back tomorrow,” Emmeline said hurriedly, hoping she did not burst into tears.
Maybe it was all a horrible misunderstanding and Penelope mistook the woman for someone else. Maybe Emmeline was speaking with the wrong Lisette Hamilton. Or maybe, or maybe . . . Emmeline found it difficult to catch her breath.
“Of course you can return anytime you like.” Lisette eyed her with a concerned expression. “Are you sure you are quite well, Miss . . . Miss?”
“Miss Tarleton. I'm fine, truly. I just need to get some air. Thank you for your time, Miss Hamilton.” With that, Emmeline fled from the pretty bookshop, the bells above the door jingling merrily as she left.
15
Goodwill to Men
That evening Quinton Roxbury stood overlooking the carefully crafted plans that were spread across the wide oak desk belonging to Lucien Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly. As he explained the details of the houses he wished to have constructed just outside the main part of London, he could see the well-built, attractive homes perfectly in his mind.
“Now what are these?” Lucien asked, pointing to the elongated rectangles depicted in the plans.
“Those are the gardens separating the houses. Each house will have its own. Not only can the families grow their own food but the gardens provide space and add beauty to the surroundings as well. I've also taken into consideration the mature trees that are already there and we shall build around them, allowing the trees to stay in place.”
“Well, I see you have considered all the possibilities and it certainly seems feasible and is a worthy cause,” Lucien began slowly, nodding his head.
“So what do you think?” he asked, holding his breath. Having Lord Waverly's backing would persuade other investors and Quinton genuinely liked the man. Waverly was intelligent and understood what Quinton was trying to accomplish.
Lucien grinned. “I can't in good conscience refuse your request to help finance the venture.”
Quinton could hardly contain his elation. “Thank you, Lord Waverly! It's an honor to have you join this project. With your help, we can now move forward and begin construction right away.”
They shook hands heartily.
“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do this,” Quinton explained.
“I congratulate you. It's admirable to see someone so sincere in helping those less fortunate and I am happy to be a part of it,” Lucien said. “Would you care to stay and join my family for supper this evening?”
Quinton immediately thought of Lisette and wondered if she would be present. It was risky to visit Devon House, knowing the probability of seeing her was rather high. He knew it was wrong, but God, how he wanted to see her! He had not been able to stop thinking of her since the afternoon in the little curio shop in Brighton. She had rushed out so quickly that he had not been able to say what he wanted to tell her. And he had acted foolishly that day, he knew. Penelope Eaton had almost caught him kissing Lisette. It would have been disastrous had she arrived a moment later and found them doing just that.
For as much as he wanted to, seeing Lisette again was not the wisest of decisions. When he accepted Lord Waverly's invitation to discuss the housing project at Devon House, Quinton decided he would not seek out Lisette as he had so recklessly done at her mother's house in Brighton. Now it would be best if he left the house before he encountered her, but he also had no wish to offend Lord Waverly by refusing his hospitality. Not when Lucien had just agreed to donate a very large sum of money to his cause.
“Yes, thank you. I'd love to stay,” he answered. “Without your financial backing and the Duke of Wentworth's, these houses would never have a chance to be built.”
“Has the duke agreed as well?” Lucien asked.
“Yes, as my future father-in-law, he has given me his full support. We finalized the purchase of a large tract of land just outside the city a few days ago.”
“Your future father-in-law?”
“I'm marrying the duke's daughter, Lady Emmeline, after New Year's.”
“Well, congratulations once again, Mr. Roxbury!” Lucien exclaimed.
“Thank you.”
Lady Emmeline Tarleton would be his wife in a few short weeks. Although it should be a joyous event, the thought of it weighed upon him heavily. Oddly enough, the prospect of marrying Emmeline had not bothered him until he met Lisette Hamilton. Now a lot of things about Lady Emmeline bothered him.
He was filled with conflicting emotions.
“I seem to recall hearing about your engagement last summer. Perhaps my wife mentioned it. Forgive me for not being aware of your good fortune. This calls for a celebratory drink,” Lucien suggested.
Quinton rolled up the plans and carefully set them aside, while Lucien opened a decanter of bourbon and poured them each a glass. He handed a crystal tumbler to Quinton.
“Have you given any thought about taking this passion of yours for making social changes and beginning a political career, Roxbury?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. It's too early to say just yet, but I have some wonderful plans to make reforms.”
“I would be interested to hear them because I like what I see so far.” Lucien lifted his glass in a toast.
Quinton raised his glass as well. “To good fortune.”
Just as he sipped the amber liquid, the door to Lord Waverly's study flew open and a dark-haired toddler came racing into the room.
“Papa! Papa!”
“Phillip!” Lucien's expression changed to delight and pride as he placed his glass on the desk and reached out his arms to the little boy. Lifting him up, he said to Quinton, “This is my son.”
Quinton smiled at the boy, more than a little moved by the obvious affection between the father and son. He supposed he would be a father himself soon enough, probably by next Christmas. Yet suddenly the idea of fathering a child with Emmeline did not inspire him. The image of Lisette Hamilton kept intruding into his thoughts. Perhaps he should not stay for supper after all.
“I'm sorry if we interrupted you and your guest, Lucien. He ran too fast for me to catch him!”
Without a doubt the beautiful woman who entered the study was Lady Waverly, and she was clearly expecting another child. Quinton was struck by how much alike she was to Lisette. Her hair was darker than Lisette's and her eyes blue, not green, but the resemblance was uncanny. Their voices even sounded the same.
“Mr. Roxbury, may I present my wife, Lady Waverly, and my son, Phillip. Colette, this is Mr. Quinton Roxbury. I've just agreed to help him build new housing in the city, and he has agreed to join us for supper this evening.”
Lady Waverly greeted him warmly and extended her hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Roxbury. How lovely that you will be joining us.”
He stared at her, almost transfixed, taking her hand in his. For the briefest instant he had the sensation that it was Lisette who stood before him, carrying
his
child. The image caused his heart to thud in his chest and a wave of happiness surged through him. He shook himself back to reality before he made a fool out of himself. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well. Thank you for having me.” He hesitated. “Forgive me, Lady Waverly, but you look remarkably like your sister.”
She laughed lightly, her blue eyes sparkling. “Yes, I have heard that once or twice before. Might I ask which sister you are referring to?”
Quinton then recalled Lisette saying that she had four sisters so he could understand Lady Waverly's need for clarification. “I met Miss Lisette Hamilton on the train to Brighton last week.”
“What an extraordinary coincidence!” she said.
“Yes, it was.” There had been more than one extraordinary coincidences where he and Lisette were concerned, and Quinton still had not gotten over them.
“Mr. Roxbury, I'm sorry to say that my husband and I had to decline the invitation to your wedding in January, due to my condition.” Her hand moved instinctively to the large curve of her belly, which was concealed as discreetly as could be beneath the cut of her rich blue velvet gown.
“I quite understand.” He smiled at her, but in truth he had no idea that Lord and Lady Waverly had been invited to his wedding, since he had taken little to no interest in the preparations of the event, but he supposed they would be on the Duke of Wentworth's guest list.
Lady Waverly turned her attention to her husband and son. “Lucien, why don't you take Phillip upstairs and read him a story before supper, and I shall take care of our guest.”
“Papa, read me a story!” the dark-haired little boy cried in delight.
“If you'll excuse me.” Lucien nodded to Quinton with a smile. “It seems I am in demand at the moment. I shall return shortly.” He left the room, carrying the boy.
Lady Waverly placed her hand gently on Quinton's arm. “Now, Mr. Roxbury, you can escort me to the parlor, where I can take a much needed rest and we can have a nice little chat before supper.”
“It would be my pleasure to join you,” he said, setting down his drink.
As he escorted Lady Waverly into the grand entryway of Devon House, their butler opened the front door. Quinton stopped short when Lisette and what had to be another sister entered the house. Absolute joy surged through him at the sight of her. Lisette was more beautiful than he remembered. Auburn hair framed her face. Her cheeks were tinged a rosy hue from the cold December evening, and her sultry green eyes were bright. They widened considerably upon seeing him and she, too, stopped in her tracks.
“Oh, hello,” she whispered, her eyes on him alone. He grinned at her like a silly schoolboy. He couldn't help himself. If truth were told, he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away to a private room and kiss her until they were both senseless. He had the good grace not to do so. “Good evening, Miss Hamilton.”
They simply stood there, staring, while the butler closed the door and her two sisters eyed them both with blatant curiosity.
“Mr. Roxbury,” Lady Waverly said in an attempt to gain his attention, “may I present my sisters. This is Miss Paulette Hamilton, and I believe you are already acquainted with my sister, Lisette. Girls, this is Lucien's business associate, Mr. Quinton Roxbury. He is joining us for supper this evening.”
He forced himself to look away from Lisette's magnetic eyes and instead focused on her younger sister. She, too, looked unbelievably like Lisette, yet different. Paulette was a blonder version of the other two sisters, with a keen intelligence about her.
“Miss Hamilton, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed politely.
“Mr. Roxbury.” Paulette nodded in acknowledgment, her eyes darting suspiciously between the two of them.
He added, “You Hamilton sisters all look startlingly alike.”
“Yes, and there are two more you haven't met yet,” Colette said, her tone one of amusement. “Now, girls, go change for supper and then please join Mr. Roxbury and me in the parlor.”
An hour later Quinton was seated beside Lisette in the formal dining room of Devon House, surrounded by three of her pretty sisters. Yvette, the youngest and blondest of the five, had joined them as well. Lucien's parents were there, too, Simon and Lenora Sinclair, the Marquis and Marchioness of Stancliff.
Quinton found himself the object of the intense scrutiny of the sisters, but they were so charming, he did not mind in the least as he explained to them his building project and Lucien's involvement in it all. They made him feel quite welcome and almost a part of the family. Having been raised in a family with only brothers, being in the midst of all these sisters was a novelty to him. Yet he felt right at home and comfortable with them.
He discovered that Lisette helped in the bookshop. In fact, through the chattering of Paulette and Yvette, he learned a good deal about the Hamilton family. He now knew about Juliette, the second oldest, who'd married an American and was expected home for Christmas any day. He also learned that they had surprised Lisette with an engagement party last night when she returned from Brighton.
Although Lisette barely said a word throughout the meal, he was keenly aware of her presence beside him. He had to restrain himself from reaching out and touching her. Once their hands brushed accidentally and the shock of desire he felt at the slightest touch of her skin left him light-headed.
When the questions arose about his upcoming nuptials, he could feel Lisette almost freeze beside him, and he longed to take her in his arms and comfort her.
“How exciting!” the young and vivacious Yvette exclaimed at the news. “You shall be married in less than a month! The Duke of Wentworth's daughter is a lucky girl, indeed.”
Lady Waverly nodded with a smile. “I believe I met your fiancée at a party last summer, Mr. Roxbury. You are quite fortunate to have such a kind personage as Lady Emmeline Tarleton as well.”
Lisette dropped her silver fork on her gilt-edged china plate with a loud clatter.
“Excuse me,” she murmured distractedly. Quinton noticed the increased heat in her cheeks when she gave him a rather frantic look.
The conversation continued without incident, but Quinton could feel the change in Lisette and wondered what had happened to upset her. She had known he was about to be married so surely that was not a surprise.
As the meal drew to a close, Lucien invited him to share some brandy. “We never did get to enjoy our drink before supper.”
Quinton knew he should take his leave, for being this close to Lisette and not being able to talk to her as he wanted or touch her as he longed to was putting his nerves more than a little on edge. He knew he should go home, yet he followed Lucien into the study, knowing full well that the ladies would eventually join them.