“Oh, she’s not here,” murmured Colette with a disappointed sigh. “I so did wish for you to meet her. I told her I’d bring you by next week, but I was impatient for the two of you to meet. I hoped she’d be here.”
“We can try again another time. I’m sure I will meet her soon enough.”
“I suppose.” Colette paused. She sat wearily upon a blue damask chair.
Paulette sat upon a matching damask chair and began removing her gloves. “Now tell me, what is going on?”
“So much has happened over the past year. I thought that after Sara married Lord Bridgeton and then Mara married Foster, that Phillip would begin to settle down as well,” Colette explained. “Instead, seeing both of his younger cousins wedded seems to have had the opposite effect on him. Phillip is only wilder and more aimless in his pursuits than ever before.”
“Well, Phillip is a grown man now, Colette. He has to lead his own life. He’s not a child any longer.”
“I am quite aware of that,” Colette responded rather tartly, then her voice softened. “But it’s because he’s not a child anymore that I can no longer excuse his outlandish and irresponsible behavior. Phillip takes no interest in the estate, no interest in his family, no interest in his future. He doesn’t seem to be himself. I rarely even see him smile or hear him laugh anymore. I can’t seem to reach him.”
“I know you and Lucien have talked to him, but what about Simon? Can his brother influence him in any way?”
“Yes, Simon has tried to help, to no avail.” Colette’s brows drew together in distress. “And let’s add Simon to the list of people that I worry about.”
“Why on earth does Simon worry you?” Paulette’s brow furrowed. “He’s always been like an angel.”
“Yes, Simon is an angel, he never does anything wrong, and has never caused any trouble. But it’s just that, well . . .” Her voice faltered. Colette bit her lower lip with worry. “Well, I don’t think he’s the type of man that will”—she held her breath for a moment—“ever marry a woman.”
“Oh, Colette,” her sister said softly, immediately understanding. “I don’t think any of us would be surprised by that bit of news.”
Colette’s eyes grew wide with disbelief.
She had harbored suspicions about her younger son’s tendencies for the past year or so, not daring to breathe a word to anyone, not even her husband. But she’d noticed Simon’s utter lack of interest in females, especially in contrast to Phillip’s blatant pursuit of pretty girls, and his avoidance of paying calls on young women in general. Simon had always had a somewhat more sensitive and perceptive nature and just didn’t seem to fit in with the other young men his age.
She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, aside from the fact that he spent a great deal of time with his friend, Robert Fields. The two of them had been friends since their school days at Eton and then university at Oxford, and lately, Colette had become aware of something between them.
She had observed the two young men looking at each other in such an intimate way . . . as if they were in love with each other. It had so startled her that she hadn’t known what to do. She’d wanted to ask Simon about it, but she feared his reaction to such a question.
What if she were mistaken entirely?
“How can you not be surprised?” Colette asked her sister in awe. “How can you have known? Lucien and I have never even discussed it, and I’ve never said a word to Simon about it, let alone anyone else.”
“Well, I know for me it’s just something that I’ve noticed about Simon over the years,” Paulette began. “I can’t really list the specifics, and I’ve never discussed it with anyone either, so please don’t think we’ve all been gossiping about Simon behind your back, because we haven’t.”
An unexpected flood of relief washed over Colette.
Her sister continued, “I just can’t say that I’m surprised now that you mention it. And I imagine the others would feel the same way. Something about it makes sense to me. Some men are just that way. It’s simply who Simon is, and I don’t love him any less for it.”
Tears spilled down Colette’s cheeks at her sister’s words.
She had worried about Simon so much, she barely slept at night. Although she had never verified it with him, she knew in her heart that he would be a “confirmed bachelor,” as they were called. She feared for his acceptance, for his safety, and for his happiness.
“I wish everyone felt the way you do.” Colette could barely utter the words, she was so overcome with emotion.
“Everyone who matters in his life will feel that way, Colette,” Paulette offered softly. “Our family especially. Simon is really the least of your worries. He has a good head on his shoulders and the kindest heart. He’s a wonderful, intelligent, caring, and loving young man. He will be fine.”
Colette felt tears well in her eyes again. “But with all that horrible news about Oscar Wilde and that dreadful trial . . . I simply couldn’t bear it if something like that happened to my sweet Simon.”
Paulette handed her sister a handkerchief and patted her shoulder sympathetically.
“I don’t think you need to worry about Simon. I’d be more worried about Phillip being involved with that she-devil. I really think you should try to enlist Jeffrey’s assistance with him on that matter. He was a great help to Mara last year when she was going through all that turmoil before she married Foster.”
“How is Mara?” Colette asked, wiping her eyes, glad to change the topic of conversation.
Paulette’s daughter was very special to Colette. She and Mara had a special bond over their love of the bookshops and worked closely with each other. They recently opened a children’s bookshop together, named after Mara.
Paulette smiled and her face lit with excitement as she spoke of her daughter. “She’s doing very well. She’s convinced she’s having twins, although the doctor said that he isn’t sure yet. But you know Mara.”
Colette nodded. Her lovely Irish niece had a skill for foreseeing future events, and if Mara believed she was carrying twins, then she more than likely was.
“I do know Mara. And I want us to make sure that she doesn’t work too hard at the children’s bookshop. She needs to get plenty of rest, especially if she’s carrying twins.”
“Oh, there’s no need to worry over that. Her husband won’t allow her to overexert herself. Foster is simply besotted with her. I swear he’d carry her from room to room if Mara would allow him to!”
“First-time fathers are adorable. They think we’re made of glass. They have no idea how strong women really are.” Colette laughed a little. “But I would like Mara to meet Meredith Remington. They’re about the same age, and I think they’d get along well. And Sara, too, when she gets to town.”
“You’re quite excited about having a writer at Hamilton’s, aren’t you?” Paulette questioned.
“I am at that,” Colette admitted, her mood improving since they changed the subject. “I’ve read some of her work, and it is really quite good. And she’s a young, ambitious girl with a passion for writing and becoming an author, and you know how I love to help out whenever I can. Besides, something about her reminds me of us at that age. We were so bound and determined to make the bookshop a success, and we wouldn’t let anyone tell us that we couldn’t do it. Not even Mother.”
“Oh, I recall.... Remember painting all those bookshelves?” Paulette asked, her face alight at the memory. “And the little green signs for each section of the bookstore tied with ribbons? We worked for weeks on those!”
“You did all the work on those signs because you had the prettiest handwriting. It made such a difference though! It’s what gave the bookshop its distinctive touch. Everyone thought we were crazy, but we proved them all wrong, Paulette. When I think back on those days, I wonder how much more we could have done if we had a mentor, someone to help and encourage us. Guide us.”
“We own four successful bookshops now, Colette. How much m
ore could we have done?” Paulette looked at her older sister with an ironic smile. “We did just fine on our own.”
The two sisters laughed a little.
“I suppose you’re right,” Colette admitted reluctantly.
There was a knock at the door, and Paulette rose from her chair to open it. A pretty young woman with dark hair and wide blue eyes stood there. She looked rather askance at seeing the two of them and then began to back away.
“Oh, pardon me,” she murmured apologetically. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Colette called excitedly to her. “Meredith, come in, please! Join us. We’ve been hoping you would stop by today! I’d love for you to meet my sister.”
9
Pen and Ink
The next afternoon, Meredith Remington managed to escape the watchful eyes of Aunt Delilah and Aunt Lavinia and made her way to Devon House to have tea with Colette and the Hamilton family. Luckily, Aunt Delilah was under the weather with one of her bad headaches and Lavinia was across town visiting her in-laws, which gave Meredith a much-needed day to herself.
She had spent the morning writing in the lovely residence above Hamilton’s Book Shoppe, which, as she expected, turned out to be a perfect writing retreat. Being careful not to ruin her new blue-and-white striped day dress with ink while she was writing, she freshened up, and as she promised Colette the day before, headed out to tea.
Meredith was relieved for the distraction of a quiet day away from the many social obligations that required her attendance. Her appearance on the London social scene was causing more of a stir than she or Aunt Delilah had anticipated. Apparently, a pretty heiress was quite the prize, in spite of her being American.
Meredith was inundated with offers from gentlemen for carriage rides, supper parties, invitations to the theater, and walks in the park. As her aunts began to sort through the eligible candidates to find the wealthiest suitor, one man began to stand out among the others.
The Duke of Havenfield.
Meredith had no real interest in marrying him at all, but Aunt Lavinia was almost giddy with delight at the prospect of her niece being courted by a duke.
A widower in his early forties, the duke was quite attractive, had a very distinguished air about him, and was very kind. And the most important factor of all, to both her aunts’ way of thinking, the Duke of Havenfield did not need to marry for money. He was incredibly wealthy on his own, and he had made his interest in Meredith quite clear.
It did not matter to her aunts that the Duke of Havenfield had four young children from his first marriage. Meredith did not relish the idea of becoming a stepmother, or a second wife for that matter, but her wishes were not an important consideration at this point.
Instead of thinking about it, she took a day for herself and gladly walked the short distance from Hamilton’s Book Shoppe to Devon House, where the Hamilton family lived. It was a massive white house that seemed to take up a city block and was something of a local landmark. It was an imposing building, but once inside, Meredith was escorted by the butler, Parkins, to an incredible library where she was greeted warmly by Colette Hamilton.
“I’m so happy you were able to make it today!” she said with a smile.
“I am too,” Meredith replied as she settled onto a comfortable leather sofa.
She glanced around the elegant room, filled with hundreds and hundreds of books. Hopefully one day, The Edge of Danger would be gracing the shelves among them! Her eyes came back to rest upon Colette. Once again, she was filled with a strong sense of familial connection with this woman.
“I brought something for you, as my way of thanking you for your incredible generosity,” Meredith said, as she handed Colette a small package. She had given a great deal of thought as to what she wished to bring to Colette for allowing her the use of the residence above the bookshop to write.
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Meredith,” Colette said sweetly, “but you truly didn’t need to get me a present.”
Taking the package, Colette carefully untied the string and unwrapped the brown paper. Inside there was an elegant little bottle of perfume from Penhaligon’s.
“It’s the scent of jasmine and tuberose,” Meredith explained.
Colette opened the small bottle to inhale the floral scent. “It’s so beautiful! I usually wear the scent of violets, but I may have to change now! Thank you. I love it!”
Meredith hesitated before saying softly, “It’s the same kind of perfume that my mother used to wear.”
“Oh, Meredith!” Colette exclaimed in wonderment. Then she set the bottle down and reached for her handkerchief. “You shall make me cry. That is the most touching gift I’ve ever received. I don’t even know what to say.”
“I didn’t mean to make you cry. I simply wanted to thank you.”
“Well, my dear, you’ve done both. Now, enough of my tears. Tea shall be here as soon as my husband arrives.”
Meredith continued to gaze at her surroundings with a bit of awe. “Your home is quite beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Colette said, without any pretense. “It is an impressive residence, is it not? It has belonged to the Sinclairs, my husband’s family, for generations. It is quite a long way from my family’s little place above the bookshop.”
“Yes, indeed! I’d no idea you lived in such a grand place.”
“It is quite grand at that, and I shall take you on a tour of the house after tea. When I was growing up, I never imagined I would one day live in a house like this. I married Lucien for love and would have married him if he hadn’t a cent, but now I’m the Marchioness of Stancliff. I’ve been very fortunate that my husband has been so supportive of my continuing my business with the bookshops.”
“Talking about me again?”
A tall and handsome gentleman with a very commanding presence entered the library. A much younger man followed behind him.
The older of the two walked directly to Colette and boldly kissed her upon the lips. “Saying good things about me, I hope.”
“Always,” she said with a smile that lit up her pretty face. She kissed him back.
The husband and wife were clearly still smitten with each other, which Meredith found rather endearing. She’d never seen a married couple display such open adoration for each other before. Fascinated by this kind of marriage, she would have to make note of it and put it in one of her stories.
“Please excuse my parents,” the younger man said to her, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Meredith, this is my husband, Lucien Sinclair, the Marquis of Stancliff. And this is my younger son, Lord Simon Sinclair. May I present my new and very dear friend, Miss Meredith Remington, the writer from New York I was telling you about?”
As Meredith rose to her feet to shake their hands, she was struck by the resemblance the father and son had to each other.
They were both handsome men. The younger one had startling blue eyes with incredibly long lashes. There was an innate kindness and gentleness about him, and Meredith liked him immediately.
Yet something about both men reminded her of someone else, but she couldn’t quite place whom, even as she searched her memory. She’d met so many people since arriving in London, so it was understandable. Still, it was rather annoying that she couldn’t place him. It seemed a little bell of recollection was ringing in her head, but she could not answer it.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Remington,” Simon said in a friendly tone with a rather amused expression on his face. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Thank you,” Meredith said. It seemed to her that he was enjoying a bit of a private joke with himself. It was almost as if he knew something that Meredith didn’t know, and he was vastly amused by it.
“My elder son should be here soon, but we never know if Phillip is going to show up or not, so we shan’t wait for him.” Colette waved her hand for them all to sit as footmen arrived.
A sumptuous tea
had been prepared, and Colette efficiently began serving them each delicious cakes, tiny sandwiches, chocolate biscuits, and scones with clotted cream, and piping hot tea in delicate china cups.
“So tell us, Miss Remington, what brings you to London?” Lucien Sinclair asked her, his expression full of interest.
“My Aunt Delilah was born in England, and we are visiting with my aunt’s family,” she explained. “My aunt has raised me ever since my mother passed away when I was a child.”
Colette added, “Meredith paid me the loveliest compliment.. . . She said I remind her of her mother.”
Lucien Sinclair looked at her with kind eyes. “Is that so, Miss Remington?”
“Yes, she does very much so, and your wife has been such a great help to me, allowing me to use the residence above the bookshop to finish my book. She’s given me a lovely, quiet place to write and I’m most grateful to her.” Meredith smiled at Colette.
“Oh, I don’t mind!” Colette said with a note of happiness in her voice. “It’s truly my pleasure to help.”
“My wife does like to take on special projects, and it seems you have caught her attention, Miss Remington.” Lucien beamed at his wife.
“Miss Remington has caught more than just Mother’s attention,” Simon chimed in, a wry grin on his face.
“What do you mean by that, Simon?” his father asked.
“Miss Remington happens to be the toast of the town this Season,” Simon announced with an amused expression. “She had suitors lining up for her out the door at the Gatwicks’ ball the other evening. I saw it with my own eyes.”
Meredith’s cheeks turned scarlet. Dear Lord, had she been introduced to Simon Sinclair before and completely forgotten him? How utterly mortifying!
Usually her writer’s eye for detail was skilled at recalling names and faces, but she’d met so many gentlemen in the time she’d been in London, it was difficult to keep them all straight. Perhaps she had been introduced to Simon at one of the events she’d attended and that’s why he seemed vaguely familiar to her.
The Unexpected Heiress Page 9