A Stolen Kiss (Victorian Love Book 1)

by M. A. Nichols

  “She needs to be cherished,” he retorted.

  “Would you rather her face shame and ostracism?”

  “An unwanted marriage is not an improvement,” said Mr. Ashbrook, crossing his arms. Behind him, Jack caught sight of Silas in the doorway, watching with wide eyes.

  “Your brother did not agree,” said Jack.

  Mr. Ashbrook narrowed his eyes. “My eldest brother is short-sighted and refused to act as her father would. I am here on Mr. Kingsley’s behalf.”

  “What father wouldn’t wish for a prosperous and honorable son-in-law?”

  But Mr. Ashbrook huffed. “If my daughter had found herself in Lily’s situation, I would move heaven and earth to ensure she was not consigned to the misery and loneliness of a forced marriage. I would sell my property and move us to a new country—even beggar myself—before I allow my daughter to suffer like that. Lily’s father would do the same, and he would be livid if he knew what our brother did in his name.”

  Jack’s teeth ground together. “You assume that a life with me would make her miserable.”

  Mr. Ashbrook’s brow rose in challenge. “If the number of tears she shed today are any indication, I would say she is well on her way to it.”

  A cold shock swept over Jack, freezing him as he gaped at Mr. Ashbrook. “She was crying?”

  Leaning back on his heels, Mr. Ashbrook stuffed his hands in his pockets as he watched Jack with an appraising eye. Casting a glance over his shoulder to Silas, he said, “You were right.”

  “He’s a bungler—but a lovestruck one,” replied Silas, coming to stand beside Mr. Ashbrook with that irritating superiority he sported when he had the upper hand over Jack.

  “I am not here for your amusement, gentlemen,” said Jack through clenched teeth. Turning a hard look at her uncle, he demanded, “Is Lily truly unhappy?”

  “I am not here to discuss Lily.” Mr. Ashbrook sat on a chair opposite Jack, and Silas occupied the other. Leaning forward, Mr. Ashbrook held Jack’s gaze with stern, unflinching eyes. “As her father is not available, and my brother did not see fit to do so, I demand to know your intentions before I will allow you anywhere near my niece. I know you are a good man, but ‘good’ is not good enough for our Lily.”

  Human nature was not a complex thing, though philosophers were determined to complicate it. Often, it took only a few minutes to determine how a gentleman conducted his business, and in Jack’s experience, that was indicative of how he approached the rest of his life; an unscrupulous investor was never a saint in other aspects of his life. Lily was not business, but Mr. Ashbrook’s fierce defense of her told Jack everything he needed to know about the gentleman and made him one of only a few people in the world whom Jack wished to earn their good opinion.

  “My intentions…” Jack struggled for the right words. Turning his eyes to the pile of letters on his desk, he thought through the words. Writing to a colleague was no difficult thing, but that gave him time and privacy to pen it. And there was no matter of business that equaled the gravity of defending his honor to the guardian of the woman he loved.

  “…are honorable.” There. That was truthful. “Lily is…unique.”

  But that did not come close to capturing what he wished to convey.

  Pausing, Jack’s fingers tapped along the desk, beating out a rapid staccato. He hemmed and hawed, as his muscles tensed. Jack tried to ease the pull in his neck, but it did no good. Shifting in his seat, he grabbed one of the letters and stood it on end, but that did not keep his hands still for he began bouncing it up and down, knocking the folded edge against the wood.

  “I will marry her.” Jack gave an internal cringe against those inane words, but the one that lingered in his thoughts was too large a one to declare. Yet still, those four little letters did not explain his heart.

  Glancing at the gentlemen sitting before him, Jack found Mr. Ashbrook’s brows high on his forehead while Silas openly gawked.

  Mr. Ashbrook looked at Silas. “Am I wrong in thinking that the Jonathan Hatcher you know is unflappable?”

  Silas watched Jack for several long moments before answering. His expression shifted, his gaze growing contemplative. “I can think of only a few times I have ever seen him thusly. Hatch has always prized control, and he feels things far more deeply than he shows.”

  Jack gritted his teeth, fairly pounding the desk with his fingertips. “I do not care to be examined, Mr. Byrnes.”

  Though using such formal address in company was not a foreign thing, the tone with which Jack spoke it could not be ignored. Rather than having the desired effect, it merely made Silas smile. Mr. Ashbrook’s eyes moved between the pair, and Jack sensed that the fellow did not miss a single detail.

  “You love her,” said Mr. Ashbrook as he crossed his arms. It was no question, though he awaited confirmation.

  Words were such useless things that easily twisted the truth, but actions spoke louder, as they were wont to say. A man’s behavior bespoke of his true intentions, and Jack’s were clear. He saw no value to adding words to them.

  As Mr. Ashbrook’s question that was not a question required only a single, simple word in response, Jack could manage that, though his throat tightened around the reply.

  “Yes.”

  With a nod, Mr. Ashbrook added, “And this engagement is not about duty.”

  Again, no complex response was required, so Jack replied. But only just. “Yes.”

  Mr. Ashbrook gave another sharp nod and straightened. “Then how do you plan to secure her heart?”

  Jack blinked at that. “You wish to aid me in winning her over? The fellow who made her cry?”

  Just speaking the words made Jack’s heart chill, his chest aching at her unhappiness. Lily had seemed content the night before, and he did not understand how it had changed so rapidly. But Jack would find a way to make her smile once more, and then ensure she never felt such pain again.

  “In my experience,” said Mr. Ashbrook with a hint of chagrin coloring his cheeks, “men give women many reasons to shed tears however unintentionally.”

  Silas’s expression pinched, and he gave a guilty nod. “As much as I am loath to admit it, tears are an unfortunate part of courtship at times. When there is so much at risk, it is easy to be overwrought by the simplest of things.”

  “And I am not aiding the man who has made Lily cry,” said Mr. Ashbrook with a cock of his eyebrow. “I am aiding the man who loves her and will do his best to make her happy. What Lily has told me and what I’ve witnessed here leads me to believe you are him.”

  Jack mulled over those words, and though he did not wish to ask the question, it came unbidden to his lips. “What did Lily say about me?”

  Silas gave a snorting laugh, though he tried to cover it. Jack scowled at him, and the fellow raised his hands in surrender.

  “I apologize, Hatch, but between the tone and question, you sounded like a schoolboy asking for gossip about the girl he admires.”

  The scowl deepened as Jack made to stand. “I will not sit here and be mocked, Mr. Byrnes.”

  Silas winced and came to his feet. “I didn't mean to make light of the situation, Hatch. I apologize for giving offense but seeing you in such a manner…” Silas sighed, motioning for Jack to sit once more. “It was like seeing myself when I met my dear Judith. I was in my forties, previously married, and a father, yet I was just as lovestruck as a lad half my age. When love strikes for the first time, it makes fools of us all—no matter your age.”

  Mr. Ashbrook gave a low chuckle. “Having your heart fully engaged is marvelous and terrifying all at once, especially when you are uncertain of hers.”

  But restless energy had taken hold of Jack, and he couldn’t stand the thought of sitting again. And being forced to discuss his courtship was more than his battered heart could handle at present. Jack needed to be alone. Or a stroll might clear his head.

  “I appreciate your concern, gentlemen, but I have things in hand,” said Jack as he mo
ved to where his coat and hat hung beside the door. It wasn’t a lie precisely, but it was true enough; he didn’t know if he would feel fully confident until the marriage vows were spoken.

  Mr. Ashbrook stood as well, his eyes displaying more doubt than Jack cared to see, but Jack had faced greater odds and emerged victorious. He simply had to hold onto that hope.

  “I do apologize if we offended you, Mr. Hatcher,” said Mr. Ashbrook.

  “Please, call me…Hatch.” Jack nearly let slip the other name; but as much as “Jack” had become a part of him, it belonged to Lily, and he would not share it with anyone else. “And I am not offended. I simply have business to tend to.”

  Mr. Ashbrook nodded, though he did not look as though he believed it any more than Silas did. “But before you leave, I would like to give you the advice that Lily’s father gave me when I was courting my wife: never give her reason to doubt your affection.”

  Jack paused in putting on his overcoat and looked at Mr. Ashbrook with raised brows. “Lily knows where my heart lies. It is hers that is in question.”

  Tucking his hands behind him, Mr. Ashbrook watched Jack with an inscrutable expression. “I will not break Lily’s confidence, but I will tell you something that I learned from hard experience.”

  Mr. Ashbrook paused, his gaze turning to the wall as he sorted through his thoughts. “When someone has been taught to believe that they are inferior, it can be…” Mr. Ashbrook paused again, “…difficult for them to believe that someone does love them.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley—”

  But before Jack could finish that thought, Mr. Ashbrook gave a vigorous shake of his head. “They love her as much as any parents can, and our family dotes on her. But too often others tell her she is lacking, though I cannot fathom why. That leads her to doubt herself.”

  Silas grunted with a sad smile. “Those steeped in insecurities are adept at inferring insults where none were intended simply because they assume all people think ill of them.”

  Jack’s brows rose as a string of memories played in his mind, showing those early arguments in a new light. But such miscommunications had lessened in the intervening weeks, even disappearing altogether. His behavior had shown how much he admired her, and Lily could be in no doubt of his intentions. And if there were any residual uncertainties, those would be overcome with his surprise; Lily could not overlook the effort he’d expended to bring it about.

  “Do not leave her in doubt of your heart,” said Mr. Ashbrook.

  Jack pulled on his jacket and held his hat in his hands. “I appreciate your candor, and I assure you I am doing my best to earn her trust. I will not break it.”

  With a nod, he fled his office, but Mr. Ashbrook’s parting words followed Jack long after he’d gone.

  “I said that as well, and I was wrong…”

  Chapter 22

  “You promise you have no idea where we are going tonight?” asked Lily as she leaned closer to the lady sitting beside her on the carriage seat. Though it was too dark inside to see for certain, Lily sensed Mrs. Byrnes’s smile. Of course, it was a feeling that Mrs. Byrnes exuded at all times, though her face may not always show it.

  “I assure you Hatch has not spoken a single word about tonight’s entertainment,” she replied. “I am terrible at keeping secrets. I cannot seem to keep from blurting out the truth.”

  There was a low chuckle from across the way as Mr. Byrnes added, “And Hatch knows better than to say a word to me, as I am equally terrible when it comes to keeping secrets from my dear Judith. We are a hopeless pair.”

  Lily covered her laugh with a dramatic sigh. “Then I guess I must consign myself to waiting.”

  Mrs. Byrnes chuckled and added in a low voice. “I can say that our Hatch is quite pleased with himself. He has been in high spirits ever since he arranged this surprise.”

  Turning her gaze to the shadows where Jack sat, Lily thought that an apt description of his behavior of late. Strangers may be forgiven for missing the subtle hints, but she had noticed how his mood had lightened over the past week. Of course, Lily’s own had been improved by a good rest and many long chats with Aunt Mary and Uncle Ambrose.

  Her cheeks heated (as they were wont to do) when she recalled how she had sobbed like a fool at first. With age, Lily had learned some control over such outbursts, but her heart was too much of a whirlwind for her to manage it at all times.

  “I do wish to apologize for Silas,” Mrs. Byrnes whispered, her voice hardly loud enough for Lily to hear. “He has been most anxious to make your acquaintance, and I fear our conversation at dinner was more of an interrogation.”

  Lily chuckled and whispered back, “Your husband reminds me of my uncle, who is too charming for his good. It was a subtle interrogation and did not frighten me off. If anything, it is good to know that Jack has such loyal friends. Everyone should.”

  “We may need to be careful, Hatch,” said Mr. Byrnes in a stage whisper. “I fear they may be plotting against us.”

  Jack said nothing in reply, but Mrs. Byrnes gave a huff that many a wife has given when their husband is acting the fool.

  “As we do not know where we are headed, what else do we have to occupy our thoughts? The only sensible thing is to plot against the menfolk,” said Lily.

  “Patience,” came Jack’s rumbly reply, though she swore she heard a smile in his tone.

  Between Silas and Lily, the conversation never lagged for long, though the mystery of the coming entertainment lingered in the back of her thoughts. When the coach came to a stop, Jack and Silas stepped out and helped the ladies. Weaving her arm through his, Lily found herself standing on the sidewalk before a townhouse not far from her aunt and uncle’s home—though it was in a finer part of Mayfair.

  Lily looked at Jack with a questioning raise of her brow, but he remained mum as he led their party up the steps. At the door, Jack gave the answering footman his name.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Kempthorne invited us for the evening’s entertainment,” said Jack.

  Lily sighed. His statement had given her no clues as to what the entertainment would be, nor did the footman say anything of value as he divested them of their jackets and hats. They entered the drawing room, and Lily spied a few lines of chairs facing a pianoforte.

  “A concert?” she asked with a smile.

  Jack gave her a nod, but there was something in his eyes that made her suspect there was more to the surprise. If it had been Mr. Byrnes or her Uncle Ambrose, Lily would say the fellow looked mischievous, but she could not imagine Jack Hatcher ever called such a thing.

  Leading them to a row of chairs, Jack motioned for them to sit.

  “I thought you did not enjoy concerts,” she said, thinking back on his tepid reaction to their last one.

  “Not unless you are performing.” Jack tone held none of the ardent air such a compliment deserved. He tossed the words out as though they were inconsequential. A mere fact. But they sent a surge of warmth flowing through Lily, bringing a sheet of tears to her eyes; she batted them away, but the joy that settled into her heart was not so easily dispelled.

  That simple statement meant more than all the practiced compliments Mr. DeVere spouted. If Jack had delivered such uninspired sentiments in the first days of their acquaintance, Lily may not have understood their significance, but she knew Jack Hatcher was not one for false compliments. And he’d deemed her the only musician worth hearing.

  “But tonight isn’t about my enjoyment,” he added, nodding towards the piano.

  Lily’s gaze flew to the instrument and found a pair of gentlemen conversing beside it. The older had the bearing of gentry, and from his position in the room and the fine quality of his clothing, Lily hazarded to guess that it was their host, Mr. Kempthorne. She suspected the younger man was the musician, for he had the dark, wild air of a Gothic character.

  “Is this to be a solo performance or an ensemble?” asked Lily.

  And Jack gave her the only hint of the evening.
“Solo.”

  Turning to meet his gaze, Lily’s eyes brightened. “And the musician’s name?”

  But Jack shook his head, one corner of his lips twisting in a hint of a smile.

  “You are determined to hold onto your secrets and drive me mad with guessing—” But Mr. Kempthorne interrupted Lily’s fruitless protestations with a call for the guests to take their seats.

  “We welcome you here tonight for this most special occasion,” he said. Her anticipation had Lily holding her breath, but the fellow prevaricated, thanking various people and babbling about the great honor it was to host the event until Lily longed to shout at him to get on with it; the mysterious musician looked no more pleased with the overly long introduction than she.

  “We are overjoyed that Monsieur Chopin is visiting our shores—”

  Lily gasped loud enough that several people around her glanced her direction, but she could not help it. Her gaze shot from the pianist to Jack, her breath frozen in her chest.

  “How…?” Lily didn’t know which line of questioning to pursue first, though they each started with that single word. The corner of Jack’s mouth curled in a lop-sided smile, his eyes gazing at her with such pleasure that Lily wished they were alone, for she had the strongest desire to throw herself into his embrace.

  But Jack did not respond to the unspoken questions. He merely nodded to the front again, and Lily turned to see M. Chopin taking his place at the pianoforte. Leaning to the edge of her seat, Lily waited as he placed his hands on the key.

  The chords rang out, loud and clear, filling the room with a resounding staccato like a bugler calling his brothers in arms to war. Then the piece began in earnest, the notes building as M. Chopin marched up and down the keyboard. Reaching over, Lily rested her hand on Jack’s forearm, though she didn’t know if it was to give him a sign of her deep gratitude or to draw on his strength, for the beauty of it threatened to overwhelm her.