A Stolen Kiss (Victorian Love Book 1)

by M. A. Nichols

  “I will not press you for details, but I would like to help. It is the least I can do,” said DeVere.

  Leveling a look at the young man, Jack wanted to send him on his way, but he paused. From the beginning, Jack had known he lacked the skill to court properly, and he’d already been foolish enough to turn aside Silas and Ambrose’s offers of aid. And DeVere had shown himself adept at turning Lily’s head.

  “You have the look of a fellow who has ruined everything and doesn’t know how to repair it,” added DeVere. Jack gave him another questioning glance, and the young man shrugged. “It is the same look I had a few days ago.”

  When Jack did not respond to that, DeVere added, “I think you’ll find that an apology will do most of the work.”

  “I am beyond that.”

  “I didn’t think I would live to see the day when Jonathan Hatcher surrendered. I’ve seen you take on greater odds without flinching.”

  Slouching in his chair, Jack’s fingers rapped against the leather arm as he thought over his behavior of the past few days. “But I knew the variables and how to handle the situations. Miss Kingsley is a mystery I cannot grasp and never behaves as I expect her to.”

  Jack’s head dropped against the chair, and he stared at the ceiling as his spirits grew more depressed with each passing moment.

  “Giving your heart to someone is a terrifying thing, isn’t it?” DeVere phrased it as a question, but his tone said it as a fact. “You cannot control whether they will accept it or give theirs in return.”

  DeVere sounded as though he were talking to himself, and as Jack had no interest in picking apart his troubles aloud, he left the young man alone and waited for him to speak again.

  “I don’t know what has passed between you two, so I will not pretend to understand the situation in its entirety,” said DeVere, “but you should talk to Miss Kingsley. Be frank. Honest.”

  The words were spoken as though they were a little thing, but Jack's pulse quickened at the thought of it. Honesty did not trouble him in the slightest, but there was too much to explain and the few times Jack had tried to speak his heart to Lily had ended in disaster.

  “Apologize, Hatch,” said DeVere as he got to his feet. “Trust her. Miss Kingsley cares deeply for you.”

  He turned to leave, but Jack could not leave that final statement unchallenged.

  “She does?” At least he’d managed to ask that desperate question in a calm, collected tone.

  DeVere paused, turning on his heel to stare at Jack. “You don’t see it?”

  “She flirted and fawned over you.”

  With a snort, DeVere laughed. “There was only one time in our acquaintance in which she did so, and that was to exact revenge for what she knew I was doing to her. Otherwise, she was kind and gregarious, but she is that way with everyone.”

  Jack watched him with a furrowed brow, pondering over the words though too afraid to hope they were true.

  DeVere shook his head and gave a frustrated huff. “In the time I’ve known her, there is only one person for whom she brightens as though the world did not exist until he stepped into view. With you nearby, it’s as though she expands and her already large heart doubles.”

  And with that, DeVere took his leave, abandoning Jack with only that dim light of hope to chase away the growing shadows threatening to overtake him.

  Chapter 29

  The sun had set by the time Jack made his way home, and the streets were black with only the small orbs of the gas lamps lighting the way. Workers turned their carts to home as the wealthy trundled about in their carriages, heading to their various evening engagements. The smell of rain hung heavy in the air, mixing with the stench of the city, promising that tomorrow’s weather would be as bleak as the rest of the summer had been; their short period of sunshine had ended in a blink.

  But Jack didn’t notice any of it.

  His feet moved along the sidewalk, following the pathway home without conscious thought, pulling him through the crowds. Luckily, he knew the way well enough, leaving his mind full of Lily.

  Could an apology be all he needed? Jack had broken her trust. If the manner in which they’d gotten engaged had angered Lily, Jack knew his announcing it to the world—expressly against her wishes—could cause irreparable damage. DeVere did understand ladies better than he, but Jack couldn’t imagine a simple apology would be enough to mend this.

  Reaching the Byrnes’s front door, Jack let himself in, divesting himself of his hat and gloves and giving them to an obliging footman who appeared moments later.

  A hand grabbed him by the arm, and Jack turned to see Judith standing there.

  “I was calling to you, but you didn’t answer,” she said.

  “I didn’t hear you,” said Jack. And he hadn’t. In fact, he hadn’t noticed the footman disappear or her approach, either. “I shan’t be joining you for dinner tonight.”

  But Judith waved that away. “I was coming to tell you that you are needed in the parlor.”

  Jack tried to give excuses, turning towards the stairs that would lead him to his bedchamber, but Judith blocked his way, herding him towards the dreaded parlor. Though normally, he welcomed an evening at home with the Byrnes family, the thought of being surrounded by people soured Jack’s stomach. He needed solitude.

  But Judith would not be thrown over, and Jack had to either follow her directions or shove past her. So, he followed and stepped to the doorway leading to the parlor. It took several steps inside before he saw Lily standing there.

  Blinking, Jack stared at her, wondering if his wits had finally abandoned him altogether, leaving him haunted by her memory. That had to be the case, for Lily was not sobbing nor wailing at him and berating his honor. But even as he contemplated that possibility, the truth slapped him in the face.

  Lily was here to take her leave of him.

  Judith disappeared, shutting the parlor door behind them, and Jack felt torn between the need to flee and the desire to sweep Lily into his arms and burrow into her hold, as though it could hide him from this impending doom.

  Motioning for him to sit, Lily took the seat across from him. A tray of tea and cakes sat on the table beside her, though only remnants remained; a book and several magazines sat on the cushion beside her.

  “As you decided to go to ground, I had no choice but to wait here for you to return,” said Lily. “We need to have a frank discussion.”

  *

  Grasping her skirts to keep her hands from shaking, Lily took a silent, calming breath. In the abstract, speaking to Jack had seemed the only course, but the thought of laying her heart bare before him made it shudder in her chest, as though it was trying to flee. But there was no helping the situation. As much as she longed for a cowardly retreat, that would only bring her a lifetime of misery. At least this course of action held some possibility of a joyful resolution.

  “You aren’t angry with me?” His question came out in a halting manner, as though he struggled with each word.

  “I am angry.” Lily’s eyes narrowed on him, the memory of the agony she’d felt came rearing into her forethoughts, and she fought against the tide of emotion that accompanied it. “Three days ago, I had the most wonderful evening in my life, but since then, you have been distant and combative, leaving me confused and hurt.”

  Jack shifted in his seat, but before he could say a thing (if he had intended to do so) Lily continued. “However, as someone once pointed out to me, I tend to misinterpret your motives, so I am finished with subtlety. I need to know what is going through your thoughts.”

  Reaching over, Lily retrieved the newspaper and tossed it on the table between them, displaying the accursed announcement. Jack’s fingers tapped against the arm of the sofa, thumping a muted beat over and over, but he said nothing.

  “Why did you go against what we had agreed?”

  His fingers beat faster like a hummingbird’s wings, but his mouth remained shut.

  *

  Many a
fellow had tried to intimidate Jack, but none of their paltry efforts generated even a particle of the terror Lily inspired with a few simple words. He’d never thought himself a coward, but when faced with Lily’s pleading eyes, there was no denying the abject fear that took hold of him.

  It was only the two of them in that parlor, but it felt as though they were standing amid a busy thoroughfare, its confusing mess of noise and movement pulling Jack’s thoughts every which way. His mind fought to gain control, but he could hardly recall his own name, let alone express that which was inexpressible.

  “I see,” she murmured, getting to her feet. Face turned away from him, Lily crossed the room in several quick steps before Jack could react. When his sluggish thoughts arrived at the present, he was across the parlor in a flash. Lily gave a squeak when his arms came around her, turning her to face him and trapping her against him.

  “Please, don’t leave me,” he murmured.

  Lily’s eyes widened as she stared at him, but Jack didn’t have the strength to meet her gaze. His insides roiled as he struggled to find the words that would not come. His strength ebbed until it felt as though he was clinging to Lily, and she was the only thing keeping them upright.

  Taking a breath, Jack forced himself to look at her. “You terrify me.”

  Her brows rose and then down again, drawing together as she stared at him. Her expression fell as she turned her face away from him. “That is not what I’d hoped to hear.”

  Though Jack loathed to let go of the hold he had on her, he freed one hand so that he could tilt her chin to face him. As he could not bring order to the raging mess in his head, Jack spoke without thought.

  “Most of my life I have lived at the mercy of others, and I fought hard to be my own master. My life is in my control, and I find peace in that. Then you swept in, disrupting everything, and my life is no longer my own.”

  Lily’s eyes began blinking furiously, and she tugged her chin from his hold, turning as though she wished to leave, and Jack cursed his ineptitude.

  “You terrify me because I cannot control you—I do not wish to—but at any moment, you can choose to walk away, and I cannot do a thing about it. I am at your mercy, and I have fought long and hard to never be in such a position again.”

  *

  It was by no means the flowery declaration she’d envisioned as a young lady, but Lily’s breath caught in her chest at what Jack was admitting. He was at her mercy? That was not how she would have worded it, but that did not make it any less truthful. Nor apt.

  In the weeks she’d known Jack, he had become such a fixture in her life. A few blissful moments in his company had the power to lighten her soul in a manner no one else could. And the mere hint of losing him was enough to shatter her heart. It was not as though she could not exist without him, but he had the power to affect her world as no one else could.

  And Jack felt the same.

  There was no denying that the prospect was terrifying. To trust her heart to another took more courage than Lily had realized it would.

  “Please, do not leave me,” he begged again. Jack’s fear shone in his eyes, pleading with her to stay, and Lily knew it would take a heart of stone to turn aside from such naked need. Here was the Jack who’d touched her heart so many times. Though that confident, determined man was something to admire, it was seeing this glimpse into his fragile heart that bound her to him all the tighter.

  Nudging him towards the sofa, Lily sat beside Jack, taking his hand in hers. He followed her prompts and sat there, silently watching her as she gathered her thoughts. Having had plenty of time to think as she had awaited Jack’s return, Lily knew what to say, but she still needed a moment to decide on the proper wording.

  Of course, it was difficult to do so when she found herself staring at Jack’s hand in hers. The way it fit with hers so perfectly. The feel of his skin pressed against hers. Her thumb brushed along the base of his palm, her heart warming with each delicate touch.

  “I cannot admit to understanding your logic in its entirety,” she began. “But I trust that your intentions were not malicious. The Jack I have come to know may be stubborn and difficult at times, but I have never seen you treat anyone cruelly. At least, none who did not deserve to be put in their place. And I’ve chosen to trust that you did not mean any harm.”

  She paused before adding with chagrin, “I certainly have a history of believing the worst of you, but I am willing to wait for an explanation before leaping to conclusions.”

  Though Jack did not relax, she felt the tension in his muscles easing. Unfortunately, it returned in force when she said, “But it wasn’t the announcement that has hurt me. It was how you withdrew from me.”

  Taking a deep breath, Lily forged ahead. “In the park, I knew something was bothering you, and you turned away and refused to explain. Then you vanished. I sat here for hours as my only recourse was to lie in wait until you reappeared.”

  Jack opened his mouth as though to answer, and Lily squeezed his hand, but no words came out. His eyes darted away from her, and his free fingers began that rapid beat once more.

  “I am not expecting grand orations on the subject,” she said. “Even the simplest explanation would be preferable to silence.”

  Chapter 30

  Never was there a greater fool than Jack Hatcher. Lily sat there, pleading for the simplest of words, and Jack could not give her even the smallest of them. He understood that she thought it no great thing, but she had been blessed with an overabundance of words.

  There was a reason why Silas was entrusted with that side of the business. When it came to giving orders or making decisions, Jack did not struggle to get his point across, but when faced with explaining his thoughts and feelings, he might as well be mute. Few people ever asked him such things, and even fewer cared about the answer, and such disuse had made his tongue atrophy.

  “Jack, please,” she said, and he wanted to. Truly, he did. But the words fled when he reached for them.

  Lily made a move to stand again, but Jack seized her hand, holding her in place.

  “I am no good with words. I never have been.” That was a beginning, but far from enough. Sorting through his thoughts, Jack tried to explain it. “When I speak they come out wrong.”

  Lily cocked her head to the side with a huff. “Jack, that is simply not true. You’ve given me some of the sweetest compliments I’ve ever received in my life.”

  Brows raised, Jack stared at her, recalling all the laughable attempts he’d made and could not think of a single one that was worth repeating. “I had thought them rather pathetic and certainly did not stand next to DeVere’s.”

  With a jerky laugh, Lily shook her head. “Not those. They were more than ‘rather pathetic.’ I am speaking of all the off-hand comments you made to me: telling me that you enjoy my conversation or saying that M. Chopin was a fool for not desiring my company.”

  Jack’s lips curled, his expression scrunching. “Those are not compliments. They’re facts.”

  Lily began that furious blinking of hers, and she turned her face away from him. With a tug of her hands, Jack drew her attention back to him. Tears gathered in her eyes, her cheeks blazing red as he gazed at her.

  “Do you truly not understand how much that means to me?” asked Lily, her voice hitching. “I assure you that my company being pleasant is not a fact to many people. I have been told that I am a bore to talk to. I have been told that I am ugly and unwanted. Yet you speak as though the opposite is a ‘fact’ that every rational human should agree to.”

  But Jack stared at her, his mind unable to move past the idea that someone could ever think such things about Lily, let alone say them directly to her.

  “Your words are powerful because of what they signify,” she explained. “They are simple, heartfelt signs of what you feel, and they mean far more than all the false sweetness that accompanies flattery. Your compliments are truth as you see it, and it humbles me to know that you view me in that
light.”

  Her hands squeezed his, her fingers brushing along his skin, and Jack found it hard to focus on anything other than her touch and the sweet scent she carried with her. If not for the gravity of the situation, he would be quite content to sit here and never move.

  “I do not need poetry or flowery speeches,” she said. “I simply need the truth.”

  But even as simple as it sounded, the truth never was, and a man like Jack was filled with dark truths that someone as bright as Lily should never be subjected to.

  “I do not want to make you cry,” he said.

  At that Lily gave a startled laugh. “Jack, I cry at anything. I once burst into tears over an advert I read in a magazine. It was ridiculous and not particularly sad, but it made me think of something sad, which was enough to make me a sobbing fool. Please, do not keep yourself closed off simply because you are afraid of hurting me.”

  Jack gave a hesitant nod.

  “I am not demanding you tell me everything at present, but I need some sign that you are willing to try,” she said. “I struggle to trust in you and myself, but I am attempting to improve. Give me some sign that you are as well.”

  Leaning forward, Lily wrapped both of her hands around his, squeezing them tight. “Please, tell me what is going on in your head.”

  Instincts had saved Jack many a time. They’d helped him survive the navy and build his company into the success it was today. Though Jack had thought they’d failed him of late, the truth was that they’d been buried beneath an avalanche of anxieties. The voice prodding him to greater and greater folly had been born from the fear of losing Lily, but with her grasping his hands, assuring him that all was not lost—yet—his instincts were finally free to speak their minds once more.