It Happened One Christmas

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It Happened One Christmas Page 6

by Kaitlin O'Riley


  It had all happened naturally and easily between Lisette and Henry. Very proper and calm. They just began spending time together. Henry’s mother approved of her and encouraged the match. Henry had just always been there, a fixture in her life. With sandy hair and gray eyes. No, there had been nothing extraordinary about their courtship, unlike Colette and Lucien’s tumultuous path to marriage. And there had been nothing outrageous to attribute to it like her sister Juliette’s shipboard romance with the American, Captain Fleming.

  She and Henry had simply met and knew they would get along well together.

  And that was exactly how Lisette liked it. She didn’t want all the attention and the fuss and heartache.

  Still, it stung to suddenly discover that her mother did not approve of her choice of Henry as her husband after all these years.

  Fannie entered the parlor, her round face beaming with excitement. “Miss Lisette, there’s a gentleman here to see you. A very handsome gentleman by the name of Mr. Roxbury.”

  6

  Heedless of the Wind and Weather

  Quinton held his breath in anticipation. Would she see him? He half hoped she would turn him away and then he would be done with it. It was the height of foolishness for him to be at her door in the first place. He was marrying Emmeline Tarleton in a month. He had no business calling on the lovely Lisette Hamilton, especially when she had specifically dissuaded him from doing so.

  Yet here he was. Standing in the front hall of her mother’s house, after he spent half the morning tracking down her mother’s address from the locals.

  He simply could not help himself.

  Lisette appeared in the hallway, her eyes glowing a dark green. Dressed in a fetching gown of deep burgundy that complemented her creamy complexion, she was even lovelier than he remembered. The urge to touch her was so strong he had to stop himself from reaching out and drawing her into his embrace.

  “Why, Mr. Roxbury, I wasn’t expecting to see you!” She looked a bit frantic, and there was a distinct edge to her voice. For his ears only, she whispered furiously, “What on earth are you doing here?”

  He answered with deliberate loudness, so anyone could hear, “I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by and pay my respects to you and your family.”

  “Lisette!” an accented female voice called from the parlor. “You must invite your guest inside! C’est le summum de l’impolitesse que de laisser un invité à la porte! ”

  “What a nice surprise!” Lisette said with false enthusiasm through clenched teeth. “Won’t you please come in and sit down? My mother and I were just having some tea.”

  Lisette’s good manners required her to greet a guest, however unwanted, with grace and charm. There was a smile on her pretty face, but he could see the panic in her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed slightly, yet he sensed that she was excited to see him nonetheless. Happiness surged through him just at being near her.

  He knew he should not have come, and it would be best simply to turn around and leave now, before things became more involved. Seeing her would only cause complications for himself. And most likely problems for her as well. But there was something about her that he could not resist and was what drew him to show up at her door this afternoon.

  “It would be my pleasure to join you and your mother for tea.” He returned a smile and followed her into the parlor.

  It was a pleasant house, decorated tastefully and not overly stuffed with the fashionable knickknacks and trifles that filled the most stylish homes of the day. There was something simple and elegant about the little house that appealed to him. A cleanness of lines, an accentuation of empty space.

  A woman with long gray hair reclined on a divan with a blanket covering her. She might have been a beauty once, but now that look was faded. She did not appear ill, just as Lisette had predicted on the train yesterday. The woman was quite alert and eyed him with avid interest.

  Lisette made the introductions. “Mother, may I present Mr. Quinton Roxbury. Mr. Roxbury, this is my mother, Mrs. Genevieve Hamilton.”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Hamilton,” he began. “I hope I have not intruded on your visit with your daughter.”

  “Good afternoon, monsieur. You have not intruded at all. Quel plaisir de partager la compagnie d’un bel homme. It is an honor to have such a handsome gentleman visit us. Please be seated and join us. We shall have Fannie bring you some tea. I must admit I am most anxious to learn how you know my daughter.”

  Again, Quinton wondered what the hell he was doing there, about to be questioned by Lisette Hamilton’s obviously not ailing mother. He took a seat on the sofa, and Lisette sat beside him. Just the nearness of her made him want to hold her in his arms and kiss her for hours. Her sweet scent wafted around him. This was the third time in three days he had seen her, and his desire for her had only increased. She gave him a nervous glance and then lowered her gaze to her lap.

  “So, Monsieur Roxbury, tell me,” Mrs. Hamilton began with excitement in her voice. “Do you live here in Brighton ?”

  “No, madam, I reside in London. I am here for a few days on business only. I’m staying at the Grand Hotel.”

  “Oui, c’est un endroit magnifique. Such a lovely hotel! Of course you would stay there, for it is the only place to be. Now, monsieur, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?”

  She spoke with a charming mixture of English and French, with an almost flirtatious quality. Although his first impression of her was one of fragility, he suddenly sensed a will of iron beneath the delicate surface of Mrs. Hamilton. He imagined she must have led men on a merry chase when she was younger.

  He cleared his throat before he began, thinking of an explanation for coming to their house that sounded more reasonable than his true motive.

  “Your daughter and I met on the train to Brighton yesterday. Actually we first met by accident the day before that, as I was leaving Devon House. I had been there speaking to Lord Waverly about a special project I am involved in. While on the train, I explained my project to Miss Hamilton and she agreed to help persuade your son-in-law to aid my cause. I thought I would stop by to discuss a few more of the details with her.”

  Mrs. Hamilton’s keen eyes darted from him to Lisette and back to him. She seemed quite amused about something. “Yes, I see.”

  “I also wished to inquire as to your health, Mrs. Hamilton, for your daughter mentioned that you were not well.”

  “That is most thoughtful and considerate of you. Quel charmant gentilhomme! Such a charming man! I am much recovered. Thank you very much. Merci beaucoup.” She favored him with a bright smile, full of health and vigor.

  Quinton blinked. The woman unsettled him not a little.

  “And you think Lisette can convince Lord Waverly to help you?” Mrs. Hamilton asked. “What is this project?”

  “I am designing new houses outside the city to replace an area of tenement buildings in London, and I’m seeking contributors to raise the capital to begin. Lord Waverly was kind enough to express more than a polite interest in my plan.”

  “Why do you think my daughter would help you?”

  “Because she agrees with what I am doing, and when I suggested speaking to Lord Waverly about it, Lisette said she would do so.”

  Mrs. Hamilton arched one elegant but faded eyebrow. “Did she now?”

  Lisette looked up and nodded. “Yes, Maman. It’s quite an extraordinary cause. Mr. Roxbury wants to build better housing for the poor. Think how it could change people’s lives. You know as well as I that Lucien would want to be a part of such a noble endeavor.”

  “Yes, I imagine he would at that. Mon gendre est un homme très généreux. My son-in-law is a very generous man.”

  “Lord Waverly said he would consider my project and I thought Miss Hamilton could put in a good word for me in the meantime,” Quinton added.

  The older woman’s eyes gleamed as if she knew a secret. “Dites-moi la vérité, monsieur! Now tell me the truth
. So you are calling upon my daughter now for a purely selfish purpose?”

  “Mother!” Lisette cried out.

  “Not at all, Mrs. Hamilton!” Quinton protested politely. “The benefit is not for me. These houses will benefit dozens of poor families, allowing them to live better and more productive lives. It improves the community for all of us in turn.”

  Genevieve Hamilton’s light laughter surprised him. “Oui! Yes, of course they will. That is not what I meant. Je vois à travers toute ce. I see through your subtle pretense. I think you are here not for your little houses at all, Monsieur Roxbury, but because you needed an excuse to see my daughter again.”

  Once more Lisette released a cry of embarrassment. “Mother! Please!”

  Stunned by the turn of the conversation, Quinton paused before responding, afraid of digging himself in deeper. Although he had to admit the old woman was correct in her assessment of him and he had to give her credit. The only reason he was there was to see Lisette. “Yes, that is an added benefit. Your daughter is quite lovely.”

  “I do appreciate when a man is honest. Ma fille est très belle, n’est-ce pas? My daughter is beautiful, is she not?” Mrs. Hamilton smiled in satisfaction. “Well, then, you have no desire to sit here chatting with me, do you, when you came to see Lisette? Je suis aujourd’hui une vieille femme, et vous avez besoin d’être ensemble, seuls. Allez-y. I am an old woman. You two young people need time to be alone together. Go! Go take my daughter for a walk. The fresh sea air will do you both good after being in the city.”

  It was windy and cloudy with the threat of snow, not at all a day conducive to being out-of-doors. No one in his right mind would venture out on a day like today for a leisurely stroll. He had almost not come on the visit in the first place, since the weather was so forbidding, but he had decided to risk it anyway.

  Incredulous at Mrs. Hamilton’s startling suggestion, Quinton turned to Lisette, whose mouth was wide open with shock, mirroring his own. “Would you care to walk on the beach with me, Miss Hamilton?”

  “I would love to,” Lisette said in rapid response and rose to her feet, desperate to be away from her mother. “It will just be a moment for me to get my things.”

  As Lisette hurried from the room, Mrs. Hamilton watched her leave with a satisfied expression on her face. Like the cat that ate the canary, she grinned at Quinton. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Roxbury. Please do join us for supper this evening?”

  Quinton and Lisette walked together from the house and instinctively headed away from the more populated area of the shore. The wind whipped around them and gray clouds hung heavy and low in the sky. Gulls screeched over the deserted beach and the sound of rough surf crashed around them. They said not a word to each other until they reached the damp sand.

  “Are you angry with me, Miss Hamilton?” he finally asked her.

  “Why would I be angry with you?” Lisette asked a bit caustically. “Because you called upon me when I expressly asked you not to?”

  He gave a rueful smile. “Yes.”

  “Yes, I am quite angry,” she blurted out. “I do not think this is a good idea.”

  “Yet you came out with me anyway.” He had noted that fact, much to his delight.

  “Yes,” she admitted with reluctance. “But I did not want to.”

  Quinton had his doubts about that. He asked the question that had been puzzling him. “Why was your mother so determined to send us off alone together?”

  Lisette grimaced. “She does not know that you are to be married shortly. An important fact that you neglected to mention to her, by the way.”

  He had not mentioned his wedding because he had not thought of Emmeline at all. In fact, he didn’t wish to be thinking of her now. “But surely she knows that you are engaged?”

  “Of course she does!”

  It seemed odd to Quinton that Mrs. Hamilton should conspire to have her daughter spend time alone with another man when she was already engaged. Unless . . .

  He paused and placed his hand on Lisette’s arm, causing her to stop walking as well. She looked up at him, her pretty face surrounded by the white ermine that trimmed the hood of her black cape. The sweetness in the curve of her cheeks and the honesty in her green eyes, which were clearly upset with him now, made his heart constrict in a way it never had before.

  “Your mother does not wish for you to marry him, does she?”

  She pulled her arm from his grip and turned away from him.

  It was true! It had to be, for she did not deny it. This was a very interesting development. Lisette’s mother did not wish for her daughter to marry her fiancé. And in fact, preferred Quinton over the other man, or so it seemed from her actions this afternoon. His male vanity could not help being flattered, and he experienced a surge of happiness. Still, the situation called for caution.

  Lisette suddenly spun back around to face him, her expression one of outrage.

  “Listen to me, Mr. Roxbury. I do not wish for you to call on me again. In fact, I do not wish to be in your presence again while I’m in Brighton. I am engaged to be married and in no position to be out walking with you alone. No matter what my mother thinks!”

  She looked unbearably lovely with her fair skin colored pink from the wind, her wild green eyes filled with ire, and tendrils of her rich auburn hair escaping from her fur-lined hood. He stepped closer to her as if magnetized, staring at her full lips.

  She stood her ground, placing her hands on her hips. “Your visit today was inappropriate in every respect, especially when I told you quite clearly on the train that I did not wish to see you. People will get the wrong idea and think that we have feelings for each other—oh!”

  Quinton, unable to control himself any longer, pulled Lisette into his arms and covered her mouth with his. Instantly he knew he had made a dreadful, irrevocable mistake but by then it was too late. Too late to stop. He could do nothing but lose himself in the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. Damn, but no woman had ever had this effect on him. He knew Lisette felt it, too, for she did not resist him in the least. She did not pull away. She did not slap him in outrage as she very well should. No, this incredible and beautiful woman kissed him right back, her arms reaching up around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to reach him, her mouth opening to him in willing eagerness. His heart pounding like thunder in his chest, he slipped his tongue into the heated warmth of her mouth and drew her tightly against him.

  Quinton had kissed his share of women over the years. He was a well-to-do gentleman from a prominent family, and it was within his rights to do so. Yet none of the experienced beauties he had bedded had ever affected him quite the way Lisette Hamilton did at this very moment.

  He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his whole life.

  It made no sense whatsoever. And scared the wits out of him.

  He barely knew her. He had met her only the day before yesterday and here he was kissing her on a windswept beach. It was wrong. So terribly wrong for them to be acting this way when they were both promised to others. He did not think of Emmeline Tarleton. He did not think of the man who had already asked for Lisette’s hand.

  He knew with every fiber of his being that kissing Lisette this way was unconscionable and could only lead to dire consequences for one or both of them.

  Yet he could not resist the feeling of rightness, of perfection, with her. He could not resist the feel of her body pressed intimately against his. He could not resist her soft lips and daring little tongue, which swirled within his own mouth. He could easily drown in the intoxicating fragrance of her being and not care if he ever saw the light of day again. He did not feel the chilly sea wind blowing around him, for he held in his arms all the warmth of a summer day in the heavenly form of Lisette Hamilton.

  Her passionate response pleased him, and he held her tightly against his chest as she clung to him in wild abandon. They kissed as if they were not out in full view of anyone who happened to pass by. And i
f someone did happen to venture out on such an uninviting day and spied their scandalous embrace, they did not care. So lost in the sensations of their kiss, they did not even notice the increased darkening of the leaden sky.

  Ignoring the cold wind that buffeted them, Quinton instinctively sought the heat between them, his arms wrapped firmly around her small body. He shielded her from the brunt of the wind. She was so small and slender, he could scoop her up in his arms without the slightest effort. And the thought of doing just that and carrying her to his warm bed consumed him. Making love to this woman would be sheer pleasure and nothing less.

  He could not get enough of kissing her. And it scared him not to know if he ever would.

  7

  A Thrill of Hope

  Swirling snowflakes scattered on the wind around them, covering the sand in a dusting of white.

  Lisette could not have cared less about the snow. With Quinton Roxbury’s strong arms wrapped around her, she had the oddest sensation that nothing could harm her. And nothing else mattered except this wild, extraordinary kiss. She was lost in the feel of his mouth on hers, the all-consuming heat. The driving need to feel him left her breathless.

  This kiss made her forget that she was engaged. Made her forget Henry Brooks. Made her forget that she was standing on a beach in full public view. Made her forget that Quinton had a fiancée. His mouth on hers was her entire focus.

  They finally broke free of each other’s embrace and stared into each other’s eyes, trying to regain their breath. Quinton held her hands in his, the wind and snow swirling about them.

  It was then that Lisette remembered all that she had forgotten just a moment ago. Henry. Her engagement. Quinton’s upcoming wedding.

 

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