Mistaken Kiss: A Humorous Traditional Regency Romance (My Notorious Aunt Book 2)

by Kathleen Baldwin

  Breathing like a bull on a rampage, Alex glowered into his captive’s surprised face. A book toppled out of Tournsby’s hand and thumped dully on the stone floor of the gazebo.

  A smooth, unperturbed, feminine voice, made a request. “If you will be so good as to let him finish the poem before you turn him into a goose, I would be much obliged.”

  The voice was familiar, but it was not Willa’s. Then he remembered. Alfreda. He loosened his grip slightly.

  “Good heavens, Alex? I had no idea you disliked poetry so violently.” Now, that was Willa.

  He let go of Neddie’s collar and spun around. The two women sat side by side on a bench, staring at him as if he’d sprouted horns. Maybe he had.

  Willa squinted and jumped up. “Blood! You’ve been hurt.”

  Alex stared at her. “He’s wooing you with poetry?” She grabbed his arm and began rolling up his sleeve to survey the damage.

  “Not me, silly. Alfreda.” She shook her head, struggling to push his sleeve farther up his arm. “And very sloppy poetry, at that. It’s Byron. What happened here?” She gently pressed the flesh underneath the wound, checking the depth of the cut.

  He winced but held steady. “Do you mean Neddie is courting Alfreda?” The tender movement of her fingers on his arm held him spellbound.

  Tournsby, standing behind Alex, cleared his throat. “An angel, is she not? Just look at her. Hair like white silk. The carriage of a queen.” He sighed. “Lay odds you never thought you’d see me reading poems.”

  Alfreda stood up and fluffed out her skirt. “Yes, and I quite like it.” She picked up the fallen book and handed it back to Tournsby. “I find Byron’s use of uneven rhythm in his verse unique and refreshing.”

  Willa sniffed skeptically. “Fiddle faddle. He’s a lazy writer. Undisciplined.” She continued to examine the muscles around Alex’s cut, brushing away flecks of dried blood. “I cannot blame you for wanting to put a stop to it. I fear I would’ve throttled him myself in another five minutes.”

  “I’m wounded. I think I read quite well.” Tournsby put hand to his heart.

  “Doing it up a bit brown, aren’t you?” Alex smirked at his friend.

  “Pay them no mind, my lord. Read on.”

  Tournsby held out the book. In grossly overdone inflections, he read:

  “Though prudes may condemn me, and bigots reprove,

  I court the effusions that spring from the heart,

  Which throbs with delight to the first kiss of love.”

  Alfreda mewed her approval.

  Tournsby continued to read.

  Willa shook her head and added quietly, “You see what I have been suffering?”

  Alex could not help but remember their first kiss. Perhaps Byron’s poetry was not so poorly written after all. “I didn’t come to rescue you from bad poems.” He leaned down beside her ear, her corkscrew tendrils tickling his cheek, and whispered, “Aggie was certain you were in danger from Neddie.”

  “Lord Tournsby?” She chuckled. “Well, as you can see I’m in no danger. Thank you all the same. Although, let me assure you, I am quite capable of managing the likes of him without assistance. I’m afraid it is you who pose the greater threat to my well-being.” She looked at him squarely, without condemnation or malice, stating pure fact. “For I am bound to act a complete fool in your presence. Am I not?” It pierced him far deeper than a sword could ever do.

  “Willa, I—”

  She held up her hand, stopping the tide of his declarations with one small palm. “We must clean and dress this wound properly. It has reddened, and I fear it may become infected.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “How did you come by such a gash?” She poised her hands on her hips.

  “It’s nothing. Harry got some mutton-headed notion he needed to defend your honor.”

  “My honor? You mean, a duel? With Harry?” Sunlight caught on her red curls, flashing amber and hot coals. “Alex! You might have hurt him.”

  “What? Hurt Harry?” Alex indignantly yanked his sleeve back down, muttering oaths. “I was demmed lucky to escape with my sanity.” He inhaled loudly. “Oh, look. Here comes your champion now.”

  “What’s this?” Tournsby tore himself away from Byron and clapped Alex on the shoulder. “Didn’t know you were inviting a party.”

  Alex merely growled.

  Harry rounded the rose bushes and tromped down the path toward them, a bulldog with a prized bone in his teeth, carrying on loudly before he was even close enough to hear clearly. “Told you I’d get here, didn’t I? Sent Miss Linnet’s hysterical maid home with Lady A’s coach. She kept bawling about getting hung. I assured her we’d stand as witnesses at her trial. Then I had a devil of a time getting past Lady Tricot’s old prig of a butler. Had to threaten to puncture his liver if he didn’t tell me straightway where you were. An accommodating fellow once I gave him the what’s what.”

  Harry stopped to take a breath. He took stock of the company, doffed his hat to the ladies, and smiled amiably at them all, as if he’d just dropped in for afternoon tea.

  He bowed low to Willa and cleared his throat. “Came to ask your hand, Miss Linnet. Pledge my undying affection.” He slapped a thick paw across his chest. “Do me the honor.”

  Willa smiled at Harry so sympathetically that Alex half expected her to scratch the idiotic pup behind his ears.

  Tournsby snorted. “Egad, Harry. Who let you out of the attic? Stop acting like a cake. What happened, did you sleep in your clothes? You look a complete disaster.”

  Harry brandished his sword. “Tournsby you, blackguard! If Alex hasn’t cut you to ribbons, I will.”

  Alex laid a hand on the blade, restricting the wobbling point from putting out anyone’s eye. “At ease, Harry. The situation isn’t quite as dire as we were led to believe.”

  A clatter at the back of the house distracted their attention. Two footmen opened wide the rear doors of the manor. Lady Alameda bustled out on Jerome’s arm. Beside her came Lady Tricot with Sir Daniel at her side. Following the matrons, a cavalcade of servants poured out of the doorway rolling carts of food and carrying tables and chairs down the steps and out onto the grass in front of the gazebo.

  “What in blazes is Daniel doing here?” Alex shook his head. He wondered if he’d gone to sleep on his horse, fallen off and hit his head. Mayhaps he was lying in a culvert at this very moment, bleeding to death. This outlandish torment must surely be a dying dream.

  “Of course your brother is here, Mr. Braeburn.” Lady Alameda approached him, smiling as if it were the most expected thing in the world that they should all be gathering on Lady Tricot’s lawn. “Where else would a doting fiancé be, but dancing attendance on his intended? He’s been engaging Lady Tricot in a riveting discussion concerning what fertilizer is best to use on leeks and which is best for radishes.”

  Alex’s mouth dropped for an instant. “He’s engaged to Lady Tricot?”

  Daniel stopped talking long enough to look aghast at his errant sibling.

  Lady Tricot guffawed heartily. “My husband might have ought to say about that.”

  Lady Alameda rapped Alex on the arm with her fan. “No, silly boy. To our Willa, of course.”

  “Willa? No. He can’t. he doesn’t have to. It’s me. I ruined her. It’s my—”

  “Mercy, I pray you.” Lady Alameda put her hands to her ears. You’re not going to prose on about duty again are you? Frankly, I would rather sit through another discussion of fertilizers.”

  “But...I ruined her.”

  Jerome tut-tutted. “Nooo. I shouldn’t think so. A simple carriage ride with an old family friend. Nothing untoward about that.”

  “No?” Alex balled his hands into tight fists. Had they all gone batty? “I kissed her.”

  “Well, of course, you did, my boy. A brotherly peck on the cheek. Certainly not ruination.”

  “You didn’t seem to think so yesterday.”

  Jerome sniffed. “Oh, well, yesterda
y I didn’t have all the facts of the matter.”

  “And I suppose she—” Alex thrust his finger in the meddling Lady Alameda’s direction. “Spooned up all the facts into a palatable little custard, did she?”

  Jerome steepled his fingers and rocked a bit on his heels, looking like a black bell in his cassock. “A logical conclusion. My aunt merely explained all the nuances, that’s all. A simple kiss between friends.”

  Lady Alameda smiled evenly, mischievously, a jackal biding her time for just the right moment to strike. “Yes, and now we may all be happy. Sir Daniel shall marry our Willa, and they can all retire to St. Cleves to live long and tedious lives.” She smiled broadly.

  “Just so.” Jerome nodded, eyeing the trays of fruit and bowls of clotted cream the servants were laying out on the table.

  “Tedious day all round.” Harry toddled off to a bench under a nearby willow and plunked down. “Devilish tired. Wake me when nuncheon is served.”

  “You’ve all gone mad.” Alex demanded. “It was a great deal more than a simple kiss between friends. Tell them, Willa!”

  Willa tilted her head to the side and smiled genially. “In truth, apart from Jerome springing the door open, it was the most wonderful night of my life. I shall treasure memory of those kisses forever.”

  Jerome shrugged. “There you are. Nothing to it.” He rubbed his hands together as a footman laid out a full platter of sliced ham.

  “Lunatics, one and all! What must I do? Ruin her right here in front of you? Very well—”

  Alex grabbed Willa by the shoulders and kissed her. He meant for it to be a blunt, shocking kiss, not one for pleasure, a business kiss. Get the job done. But her mouth came to his willingly, spurring warmth he hadn’t expected. Well, why shouldn’t he enjoy it? Might alarm the idiots all the more. He kissed her until he almost forgot to breathe. She was flushed when he stopped. Dazed, she faltered in her balance. He held her for a moment. “Forgive me, my dear. Had to be done.”

  In a booming voice, he announced to everyone within earshot. “There! I have properly compromised her. Now, she has no choice but to marry me.”

  “Hhmm.” Lady Alameda contemplated them, tapping her cheek with her fan. “Must she? I don’t know. Muriel, what do you think?”

  Lady Tricot shrugged. “I doubt it. No. Seen my dear old Godfrey kiss his horse with more enthusiasm than that.” She turned back to Daniel and continued their discussion of radishes.

  Harry had lain down on the bench under the willow tree and laced his fingers across his belly. “She can’t be compromised. We’re all here chaperoning.”

  Alfreda and Tournsby made no comment. They sat deep within the gazebo engrossed in Lord Byron’s Verses For All Occasions.

  Lady Alameda, alone, seemed intent upon the situation. “Do you wish to be forced into marriage, Mr. Braeburn?”

  Alex frowned at her.

  She bore down on him. “If we did relent, where would you keep a wife? Rented rooms in Blackfriars? Unsuitable for a young lady. Wouldn’t you say, Jerome?” Lady Alameda nudged the vicar.

  “Eh?” With visible reluctance, Jerome turned his attention away from blueberry muffins and mince pies. “Blackfriars? Wouldn’t know. I expect Willa could be happy nearly anywhere. Reform the entire neighborhood, knowing her.”

  Alex squared his shoulders. “Don’t be absurd. I wouldn’t expect her to live in Blackfriars. I sent my solicitor with an offer for the Ridley farm day before yesterday. But see here, this isn’t how I planned any of this.”

  “You planned?” Lady Alameda grinned widely.

  He flexed the muscles in his jaw. So, she thought she’d run him aground, did she. Alex reached for Willa’s hand. It didn’t matter what the wily countess thought. He knew better. This was a thing far beyond her machinations. He knew it, even if she did not.

  “Come.” He pulled Willa apart from the others. When they’d walked a stone toss away, he pulled her hands to his lips. “I know you think I am the worst kind of man—”

  She started to protest, but he laid his finger against her lips.

  “The truth is I was a blind man, wandering aimlessly through London, through my life, until I met you. Life has never been the same since that one mistaken kiss. Now, I know exactly what I want. I want what Darley has. Children. I want a home. I want to be surrounded by the people I love.” He glanced up the hill at the hapless conglomeration of their friends and family. “Even if half of them are completely barmy.”

  She smiled, and he couldn’t resist threading his fingers through her wildly curling hair.

  Willa nodded.

  He pressed his suit, holding her chin in his hand. “I know you imagine I’ve a harem, or scores of women secreted away. I don’t. Never have. There’s only one woman I want. Willa, I love you. I think I realized it the day you walked down the vicarage stairs in that ridiculous shepherdess dress. I just didn’t know what to do about it. Answer me, dearest. Do you think you could bear to spend the rest of your life with a man like me? A scapegrace? A prodigal? Do say something. What is it, my love? Your glasses are all spotted up—”

  Willa couldn’t see a thing.

  Dratted tears. His face had become a watercolor blur. All the world washed into streams of color and puddles of soft sounds. No matter. She didn’t need to see. More reliable senses took over, the ones that were able to sort through the incalculable, and make decisions without a balance sheet of figures dictating the answer.

  She threw her arms around his neck, and somewhere, in between sobs, he found her mouth and began to complete her happiness with unmistakable kisses.

  ___________

  OTHER Books

  by Kathleen Baldwin

  Exciting new YA Regency Romance:

  A School for Unusual Girls

  My Notorious Aunt, A Humorous Regency series:

  Lady Fiasco, Book 1, My Notorious Aunt

  Mistaken Kiss, Book 2, My Notorious Aunt

  Cut From the Same Cloth, Book 3, My Notorious Aunt

  Regency Novella:

  The Highwayman Came Waltzing

  Contemporary Young Adult Fantasy

  Diary of a Teenage Fairy Godmother

  Dear Reader,

  If you enjoyed reading this book, please lend your copy to a friend or recommend it to your readers’ group. Or write a review! Thank you.

  Reviews help other readers discover your favorite books. If you write one for Mistaken Kiss please let Kathleen know. She would like to thank you personally.

  Email: Kathleen@KathleenBaldwin.com

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  For more info visit her website: www.kathleenbaldwin.com

  Here’s a quick Preview of A School for Unusual Girls and Book Three of My Notorious Aunt…

  Previews

  A School for Unusual Girls

  #1 New York Times bestselling author Meg Cabot calls this romantic Regency adventure, “completely original and totally engrossing.”

  It’s 1814. Napoleon is exiled on Elba. Europe is in shambles. Britain is at war on four fronts. And Stranje House, a School for Unusual Girls, has become one of Regency England’s dark little secrets.

  The daughters of the beau monde who don’t fit high society’s constrictive mold are banished to Stranje House to be reformed into marriageable young ladies. Or so their parents think. In truth, Headmistress Emma Stranje, the original unusual girl, has plans for the young ladies—plans that entangle the girls in the dangerous world of spies, diplomacy, and war.

  After accidentally setting her father’s stables on fire while performing a scientific experiment, Miss Georgiana Fitzwilliam is sent to Stranje House. But Georgie has no intention of being turned into a simpering, pudding-headed,
marriageable miss. She plans to escape as soon as possible—until she meets Lord Sebastian Wyatt. Thrust together in a desperate mission to invent a new invisible ink for the English war effort, Georgie and Sebastian must find a way to work together without losing their heads—or their hearts….

  A School for Unusual Girls is a great next read for fans of Gail Carriger’s Finishing School series and Robin LaFevers’ His Fair Assassin series.

  Read an excerpt on Amazon

  Cut from the Same Cloth

  Book 3, My Notorious Aunt

  Aunt Honore is up to her old tricks. Now she’s meddling in her mysterious nephew’s life…

  Scarlet Pimpernel meets Scarlet O’Hara

  Why does the powerfully built, golden-haired, Lord St. Evert dress like an overdone Dandy? His outlandish wardrobe belies the hard unyielding lines of his face. Whoever he is, he’s ruining Elizabeth Hampton’s desperate scheme to secure a rich husband. Terribly vexing, to arrive at the most fashionable breakfast picnic of the Season wearing a perfectly stunning Chinese silk gown, only to discover Lord St. Evert is clad in unmentionables cut from identical cloth.

  Humiliating. Insufferable! Why, the devil, must he show up in fabrics Elizabeth searched so diligently to procure? To say nothing of the long hours she spent secretly stitching her creations together. He must be stopped. She is determined to spy out his perplexing game, and put an end to his interference.

  St. Evert despises pretension of any kind. He cannot abide the self-important airs put on by some members of the Ton and takes pleasure in making a mockery of Brummell’s fashion strictures. Conceited frauds! Hadn’t his grandfather’s snobbery made his mother’s life a misery? All the more maddening to discover that the one woman who captures his interest is the biggest pretender of all. He vows to teach Miss Elizabeth Hampton a lesson she won’t soon forget.

  Read an Excerpt on Amazon

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 Three Blind Men Stumbled Upon a Maiden