A Stolen Kiss (Victorian Love Book 1)

by M. A. Nichols

  She sighed. “And it takes such time to learn a piece well enough before I can lose myself in the music while producing all the proper notes. At a concert, I can immerse myself in the beauty of the music without needing to worry about anything else but my own enjoyment.”

  With a few slight prompts, Lily expounded on her passion with a vivacity that made Jack wish he had the power to give her that impossible dream of hers. He had never found such joy in songs but listening to her speak about it with such intensity made him wonder if he had misjudged it. Now that he thought about it, Jack wasn’t certain he had ever attended an entire concert or performance. Certainly, it would be impossible not to enjoy an evening if his companion showed such earnest enjoyment as Lily.

  “But I have allowed my mouth to run away with itself,” said Lily, her tone colored by chagrin. “I apologize for commandeering the conversation, but I cannot seem to help it at times.”

  Before Jack could assure her that her conversation had been anything but an imposition, she tacked on a question.

  “Do you live in London?”

  It was a simple question, but Jack’s answer was not a simple one. “I go wherever our business needs me and have no true residence. My partner lives here, and I stay with him and his family when I am needed in Town. But generally, I am not in one place long enough to claim it.”

  “It must be difficult living like a nomad.”

  In truth, Jack had not given it much thought. “I’ve never found a place worth settling in.”

  “Do you have no family home?” Lily’s voice was soft, and there was a disconcerting amount of something close to pity in it.

  “My parents and sister passed away in a cholera epidemic just after I reached my majority, and there was no house once their creditors were done with them.”

  Lily pulled him to a stop, though Jack tried to keep walking. While there were many reasons he favored Lily’s larger frame, the fact that she could slow him was irritating. Mildly.

  “That must have been painful to lose them,” said Lily.

  Though she claimed her feelings were more compassionate than pitying, it felt like pity all the same, for he did not feel any pain with which to sympathize.

  “I hardly saw them once I left home. It was no great loss to me.”

  “You last saw your family when you were ten years old?”

  Jack shrugged. “I returned for a shore leave or two, but for the most part, I had no interest in doing so.”

  “Whyever not?”

  That wasn’t a question he was often asked. Or if it was posed, it was done with a suspicious or imperious air that demanded an answer. If Lily has spoken that word with even a hint of those emotions, Jack would have called it out as the impertinent question it was. However, there was nothing but wide-eyed curiosity and concern in her gaze, as though she could not think of a worse thing to endure than being absent from his childhood home.

  “My parents rarely wrote to me and never sent funds for me to make the journey, so I did not see the point in making the effort myself,” he replied. Lily’s eyes widened at the first half of his statement, but before she could speak, he added, “My parents were not wicked people. They were simply frivolous and empty-headed. It would not surprise me if they had meant to stir themselves to make an effort and simply never got around to it.”

  Before Lily could prod him further on the topic, Jack nodded for them to walk. “Now, if we do not continue on our way, you are going to be excessively late.”

  Lily was somewhat subdued as they continued on this interminable walk through the park, but Jack had no thought as to how to enliven her spirits again and return that brightness to her eyes. He had never felt such a compulsion before, and Jack was anything but an adept conversationalist.

  Luckily, Lily was, and the silence did not last long. The conversation began on one thread before branching off into another. Soon, it became a series of strings woven together as Lily shifted from subject to subject before returning to a previous point and shifting to a whole new vein. Her mind conjured queries and made connections between a variety of topics that likely had some logic behind it known only to Lily.

  And though Jack could not claim familiarity with all the subjects and some were of no interest to him, the majority were engaging and ranged from the mundane to profound. At times, Lily prodded him for opinions but never forced the issue, allowing him to offer up his thoughts as he wished.

  They spoke of the economy, art, music, travel, and even politics—a topic that generally irritated him when broached by anyone else. Every time Jack thought they’d exhausted their options, Lily posed another question and took them in a new direction. It was an odd string of thoughts, but Jack could not recall a more enjoyable conversation.

  “But my mouth has run away with me once again,” said Lily, her cheeks coloring. “I do apologize—”

  “Why do you keep doing that? You have nothing to apologize for.”

  Lily Kingsley was a lady who stood out. Even if one discounted the effusive light that radiated from her, she was too large a woman to be ignored. Yet she shrank in on herself. It was a subtle shift with her shoulders curving forward as her expression dimmed, her eyes darting away from him.

  “I do not always realize how long I have been talking,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, though her red cheeks testified that the gesture was a lie. This mattered a great deal to her.

  But when she did not continue, Jack said, “And what does that signify? Your conversation is lively.”

  Lily’s eyes shot to his and then away again. “I’ve been told I am too talkative.”

  Jack scowled. “What halfwit suggested such a thing?”

  Lily shook her head, but he would not allow her to leave the question unanswered. He asked again, and she finally admitted the truth.

  “When I was younger, a friend came to me and said she’d been speaking with a young man of our acquaintance. He thought me a charming young lady who was a pleasure to be around, but that I was tedious at times because I never rein in my tongue and go into too much detail. He suggested my friend speak to me about it as I’d be far more engaging if I were circumspect in conversation.”

  The whole speech was delivered in a casual air, but there was a brittle quality to Lily’s voice, and Jack was not deceived by her performance.

  She gave a false laugh. “It would be difficult enough to ignore the gentleman’s opinion, for it was such a serious issue that he felt required to address it, but the message was passed through a second party, who clearly felt the same or she would not have said a word. By the mouth of two witnesses, as the Bible says…”

  Her voice trailed off, though Lily feigned a smile.

  “Ludicrous.” He hadn’t meant to bark the word, but there was no stopping the force with which he spoke it.

  Lily turned to look at him, her eyebrows raising.

  “I assure you that your conversation is not tedious in any fashion,” said Jack. “And you needn’t ever apologize for it.”

  Her eyes turned to the path ahead of them, her spine straightening as they walked forward. Though he saw only her profile, Jack noticed a faint furrowing of her brow. When she turned to face him again, they were pulled tightly together.

  “You do not mind me chattering on as I do?”

  Jack huffed. “Nonsense. You do not chatter, and anyone who has told you otherwise is a lackwit.”

  Lily gave a vague noise that sounded intrigued, and she glanced at him with a question in her gaze, as though asking permission to return to the conversation he had been enjoying before she’d ended it so abruptly.

  “You were speaking about a serial,” he prompted. “Though I do not often read them, it sounds fascinating. I may have to try it.”

  Lily gave him a brilliant smile, that spark returning to her eyes. “I cannot wait until the final installments are published! I am desperate to know what will happen. I am so furious at Amelia for clinging to the memory of her snake of a
husband. She is a fool and doesn’t deserve Dobbins’ devotion…”

  Chapter 13

  Jack rarely had an afternoon free, and today was no exception. There were stacks of papers on his desk awaiting his return: a never-ending mass of inquiries and concerns that needed addressing. Though he had no appointments today, his time was not his own, and a sliver of concern worked its way into his thoughts.

  To follow Lily around would only disrupt his plans, but even as he recognized it was not the wisest course of action, Jack could not bring himself to take his leave. The longer they walked, the easier their conversation became, and the more difficult it was to pull himself away. Impossible, even. As fruitless as Luddites fighting against the inevitable march of progress. And it was not as though he could abandon Lily to her own devices; she needed an escort.

  When they finally arrived at the foundling home’s doorstep, he rather wished they’d had more time alone. But seeing Lily beam as she was greeted at the door, Jack thought this might prove equally diverting.

  Though the building itself was not particularly enticing and, by its very nature, had a dour air about it, Lily stepped through the threshold, and an air of vitality swept through it. Tiny footsteps scuttled across the ceiling above them, and a servant at the door greeted her with expressions of genuine pleasure. They were divested of their coats, gloves, and hats in a trice, and though Jack had no intention of leaving Lily’s side, he was given no choice in the matter, for they were bundled through the entry, up a narrow staircase, and into a spartan room.

  The floor was bare and worn, the wood scarred and dull from the years of use, and an array of childish drawings pinned to the walls provided the only adornment. The few chairs and tables had been pushed to the edges of the room, leaving the space clear for the gaggle of children who ran to greet them.

  The children clamored at the sight of Lily, several wrapping themselves around her skirts as she bent to greet as many as she could with a little word here, a smile there, and as many embraces as she could manage before they were called to task.

  “Children, please!” called a woman with volume but without the harsh undertone one expected when dealing with such a horde. “Remember your manners.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Bonneville,” came the chorus of replies, and though the children did calm a moderate amount, they were still abuzz with frenetic energy.

  “Seats,” Lily said with a smile, and most of the children scurried to the far end of the room and sat on the floor in a misshapen line.

  “I will get there first,” said Lily, taunting the few stragglers, and when she moved to take her place at the front of the group, they scrambled to take their seats before her.

  Though reasonably still and quiet, the children wiggled in place as Lily took a moment to greet the teacher. Then coming to stand before her pupils, Lily turned to a chalkboard propped to one side and pointed at the various notes.

  Standing there with the basket in his hands, Jack had no thought as to what to do with himself or his burden, but it was clear that Lily was occupied with other concerns as she quizzed them on scales. Jack set the basket on the floor and took a seat on an obliging bench beside the wall that afforded him a good view of his betrothed.

  On the other end of the wooden plank was a lad who could hardly be more than seven years old. The child was so quiet that Jack had not noticed him until seated, and the boy looked at him with such weary eyes that Jack moved to the farthest end, giving the lad plenty of space. Though there was a fair distance between them, the younger boy scooted another inch or two away.

  Jack averted his eyes from the boy and focused on Lily as she and Mrs. Bonneville led the children through their lesson, though he was keenly aware of the lad who stared at Jack as though he were a monster ready to pounce.

  Reaching into Lily’s basket, Jack pulled back the linen protecting the bundle and searched the contents. There were toys and other trinkets that did not fit the bill, but then he spied a hefty paper bundle in one corner and discovered a bag of sweets. Keeping his actions hidden from the tiny eyes watching him, Jack snatched a caramel from the pile and tucked the basket away once more.

  With a subtle slide of his hand, Jack placed the sweet on the bench between them. It sat there for several long moments before a tiny hand slid along the wood to snatch it. The child was twisted in his seat so that he could reach it with his left hand, and his odd movement drew Jack’s attention to his empty right sleeve.

  Settling into their seats, Jack and the boy sat on that bench and observed the lesson as Mrs. Bonneville led the children in song and Lily pointed to the lyrics written on the board.

  Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch. Truly, he should return to the office, but Jack couldn’t fathom returning to his letters and books; he would never be able to focus on those while his mind was so firmly fixed on Lily.

  The bench shifted, and Jack heard the sound of sliding across the wood. He did not look directly to his left, but he sensed the boy drawing slowly closer. Then the child stretched to get a clearer view of the timepiece in Jack’s hand. Turning it, he gave the boy a better look without letting the lad know he’d been noticed.

  But the sounds of footsteps entering the classroom startled the boy, and he shrank away as Jack looked to see a middle-aged woman standing in the doorway with the air of one who was in command of their surroundings; No doubt this was the matron of this facility.

  Tucking his watch into his pocket, Jack turned his attention to Lily. With the boy beside him sliding further away, there was nothing else to distract him, and Jack was grateful for the chance to watch her in her element.

  Jack wouldn’t have labeled Miss Lily Kingsley as confident, but she had a definite aura about her as she assisted Mrs. Bonneville and worked with the children. She infused the lesson with her enthusiasm but did so with a strong will—which was necessary when facing several dozen rambunctious children. Folding his arms, Jack watched her every movement.

  That time they’d spent together in the market sprang to mind, and Jack remembered the possessive manner in which Lily had clutched that silly shawl of hers. She’d wanted the thing so desperately that she would’ve paid any price for it, and at the time, he’d thought it foolish. At present, Jack was coming to understand that desperation and desire. In the confines of his heart and mind, he could admit there was no price too high if it meant securing her as his wife.

  This shift inside him made no rational sense. In a short period, Jack Hatcher had gone from a self-made man to being at the mercy of another. His heart thumped in his chest as though it were trying to beat some sense into him, but it was that foolish organ that had trapped him so thoroughly. If it were simply a matter of attraction, the sentiment could be dealt with, but every moment Jack spent in her company was becoming more and more precious to him, though she seemed utterly unaware of the passion she inspired in him.

  For his part, Jack wasn’t certain if that were a good or bad thing.

  “Might I ask you your name, sir?”

  The matron’s voice startled Jack from his thoughts, though he was quite grateful for the distraction. Getting to his feet, Jack bowed to her.

  “Mr. Jonathan Hatcher. Miss Kingsley and I are engaged to be married, and I am playing escort for the afternoon.”

  The woman’s brows rose at that revelation. “There has been no announcement.”

  Jack nodded, and though he’d been willing to accommodate Lily’s wishes, he found himself quite displeased with that oversight at present. Though it did nothing to alter the truth of their situation, he wished for a far more binding agreement between them.

  “We are waiting for her parents to return from the Continent before making a formal announcement, though it is no secret,” said Jack.

  The woman’s only response was an indistinct huff that held a touch of a challenge. It was a sound Jack had made many a time when approached with a proposition that was neither wholly acceptable nor detestable. It demanded proo
f before support would be given, and with the calculating manner in which the matron examined him, Jack knew she thought it unlikely to happen.

  “I am Mrs. Halliday,” she finally replied, though she did not continue nor move away as though the conversation were finished. Mrs. Halliday simply continued to examine him as though she were trying to decide if he were a cut of beef that had gone off.

  Where her uncle had failed to instill any fear or respect, this woman’s hard judgment was succeeding. Her dark eyes were unblinking and unwavering, and Jack’s own warmed at the sight of her protective fury. Though he had set many a person in their place when they overstepped their bounds, Jack’s respect grew for the woman who earnestly wished to safeguard his Lily and did not cower at the prospect.

  Mrs. Halliday’s eyes narrowed, though the cold bite in her gaze softened a touch. “We will see.”

  She spoke no further words, simply turned to stand beside Jack and watched as the lesson ended and playtime began. Fetching her basket, Lily unleashed a whirlwind of giddiness as she plied the children with treats and toys. She was pulled from game to game as the children all vied for her and Mrs. Bonneville’s attention. Lifting one of the smaller girls, Lily placed the child on her lap and sat on a bench as the pair played with a small doll.

  “She is quite popular,” said Jack.

  “The Kingsleys have always been beloved here,” said Mrs. Halliday, tucking her hands behind her. “Her family has been our most faithful benefactor and supporter for as long as I can remember.”

  “Then you have been here long?”

  Mrs. Halliday stood silent for a long moment before replying. “I was raised here and became a maid, then teacher, and eventually matron. I remember Miss Kingsley’s grandmother and mother visiting much the same as Miss Kingsley does now. Sweets and all.”