“Then they can have the first house.”
“That’s it?” she asked incredulously, shocked by the ease of his agreement. “Just like that?”
“Yes.” Quinton grinned with satisfaction. “I trust your judgment, Miss Hamilton. If you feel they would be a good fit, then I agree with you.”
“Oh, Mr. Roxbury, you are too kind. That is wonderful of you!”
“No,” he said with intensity, stepping closer to her. “You are wonderful.”
Again the wild impulse to go to him, to move into his warm embrace, threatened to overwhelm her. Her heart pounded with the need to reach out and touch him, to feel her body pressed against his, to feel his mouth on hers. And she knew instinctively that he felt the same way. They stared into each other’s eyes as her breathing became more rapid. She wanted him to kiss her and she wished they were alone somewhere, not at a Christmas ball surrounded by hundreds of guests.
“Lisette, there you are!” Juliette approached them, with Harrison at her side.
Startled by the interruption, both Lisette and Quinton stepped back from each other. Lisette mentally shook herself for acting so foolish. What was it about Quinton Roxbury that made her act scandalously?
“We’ve been looking for you.” Juliette cast her assessing gaze pointedly over Quinton.
Lisette had no choice but to make the introductions. “I’d like to introduce you both to Mr. Quinton Roxbury. Mr. Roxbury, this is my sister, Mrs. Juliette Fleming. And her husband, Captain Harrison Fleming. They are visiting from New York for Christmas.” Lisette watched the expression on Quinton’s face and knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Yet another Hamilton sister . . . By God, but you all look alike!” He held out his hand to Juliette. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Fleming.”
“Mr. Roxbury.” Taking his hand, Juliette smiled warmly at him. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
He seemed pleased by that comment. “Have you?”
“Yes.” Juliette looked him up and down. “Most of it true, I’d say.”
“I’m not sure how to take that, Mrs. Fleming.” Quinton suppressed a laugh.
“You may take it however you wish.”
Harrison Fleming shook hands with Quinton. “I’m afraid my wife can be a little impertinent.”
Quinton laughed. “So I see.”
Lucien and Jeffrey came to join them then and Lisette relaxed a little more. Nobody would suspect anything untoward between her and Quinton with such a large group of people surrounding them.
While the gentlemen began to talk, Juliette whispered to Lisette, “I can see why you ended your engagement to Henry.”
Her cheeks growing warm, Lisette hushed her sister. “Mr. Roxbury and I were simply discussing his new houses.”
Juliette smirked. “That explains why it looked as if he were about to kiss you.”
“Juliette!” Mortified by her sister’s quick assessment of what had been going on, Lisette felt her cheeks burn.
“Not that I blame you in the least,” Juliette continued to murmur in her ear. “Mr. Roxbury is a good-looking man. My God, just look at them standing there.” She inclined her head to the male group beside them. “They all are gorgeous.”
Lisette had to admit that the striking dark-haired looks of Lucien Sinclair and Jeffrey Eddington and the golden blond manes of Harrison Fleming and Quinton Roxbury were stunning. They each stood over six feet tall and carried themselves with an inbred self-assurance. Seeing all four men standing together made quite an impressive display of handsome masculinity. It almost took one’s breath away.
Secretly Lisette thought Quinton the handsomest of the lot.
“Good evening, everyone!”
An elegant and petite woman, with pale blond hair and dressed in a gown of silver shot with ice blue, joined their little group.
“Lady Trahern,” Jeffrey murmured smoothly, taking her hand in his. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“It is always a pleasure to see you, Lord Eddington,” she said merrily. “And how could I possibly stay away from such a gorgeous group of gentlemen? Honestly, it is a crying shame that all you boys aren’t standing under the mistletoe!”
As the laughter at Lady Trahern’s remark subsided and the introductions went around, Quinton found himself watching the lovely Olivia Trahern greet the lovelier Lisette Hamilton and his heart pounded in his chest while the two of them spoke quietly to each other.
He had been observing Lisette all evening, and indeed she had never looked more alluring. The emerald gown brought out the green in her eyes and showed off her curvaceous figure to perfection. She had been on the Duke of Rathmore’s arm for a good portion of the night, talking and laughing graciously with everyone she met. He’d seen the reactions of the young gentlemen who’d danced with her and knew that they were smitten with the beautiful Lisette. As was he.
All night Quinton had listened patiently to Emmeline and her mother prattle on about which of the Duke of Rathmore’s guests at the ball would be attending their wedding in two weeks and which ones wouldn’t. He had given proper responses, accepted the congratulations on his upcoming nuptials from everyone he encountered, and had danced an obligatory dance with his fiancée, but through it all, he could not keep his eyes off Lisette Hamilton.
When Lisette and Lord Eddington had come over to greet them earlier, he was secretly thrilled that Lisette had made the effort to speak to him. The ridiculously awkward situation had not fazed him in the least. And it should have. He knew very well that Lisette’s presence had upset Emmeline. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was seeing Lisette.
As soon as Emmeline stated her wish to return home because of a headache, he knew it was simply because Lisette Hamilton was at the ball. Relieved to finally be free of his fiancée’s company, Quinton had immediately sought out Lisette, even though he knew it was a dangerous thing to do. Being seen with her alone would cause even more gossip. Yet he could not resist the temptation to talk to her, to be near her. Even standing next to Lisette, as he did now, was a constant test of his resistance to temptation. And he was failing.
“I think your father has outdone even himself with this year’s ball,” Olivia Trahern went on, flirting with Jeffrey. “You’ll have much to do to match him yourself one day, Lord Eddington.”
“I wouldn’t dare compete with the likes of my father,” Jeffrey quipped.
“Wouldn’t you though?” Olivia mused, her meaning more than hosting parties.
Quinton watched the little scene with quiet amusement, wondering idly if Eddington would take Olivia up on her rather irresistible offer. It also surprised him to realize that he did not care in the least if Eddington did.
Too soon Juliette Fleming turned to her sister and her husband. “Well, it’s getting rather late and I think it may be time we took our leave.”
Lisette agreed rather quickly, “Yes, I suppose we should.”
As the good-byes started, Quinton took Lisette’s hand in his. “As always, it has been wonderful to see you, Miss Hamilton.” He squeezed her hand, wishing he could speak to her in private. Yet what good would that do? Prolong the inevitable?
“Thank you. It was lovely to see you as well. Good night, Mr. Roxbury,” Lisette whispered, her emerald eyes looking up at him with undisguised longing.
Quinton watched her walk away with the others, as Lord Eddington escorted them to the entrance hall.
Lady Olivia Trahern sidled up next to him, her cool eyes watching his expression carefully. “She’s the one, isn’t she?” she whispered in his ear.
“Yes.” Quinton could not deny it as he stared at the retreating figure of Lisette Hamilton.
“I knew it. I noticed you couldn’t take your eyes off of her.” Olivia paused and added, “Nor she you, for that matter.”
He said nothing.
“She’s very beautiful.”
Quinton nodded wordlessly. Lisette Hamilton was more than beautiful. She was everything good, everything prec
ious, everything he wanted, all in one person. The thought astonished him.
“Oh, my poor Quinton. You are terribly in love with her, aren’t you?”
He sighed. “Olivia, please . . .”
She gave him an easy smile and said merely, “If you plan on doing something about it, you had better hurry. You’re running out of time, my darling.”
It was the nineteenth of December. He had two weeks until his wedding day on the third of January. And only a little over two weeks had passed since he had met Lisette on December first. In that short amount of time, the woman had turned his life upside down. Now he needed to figure out what to do about it.
“Yes, I suppose I am running out of time.” Turning to Olivia, Quinton gave her a careless wink. “Shouldn’t you be hunting down Lord Babey?”
Her deep throaty laugh surrounded them. “Oh, he’s hunting me down, I assure you. I’m just giving him a good chase. Men do so enjoy that.”
“That they do.”
“Tick tock,” Olivia said, flashing him a knowing smile before sashaying off toward the ballroom, intent on her own quest.
Quinton wondered if somehow he had already made his decision when he ended his affair with Olivia two weeks ago. With a heavy sigh, he decided it was time he took his leave of the ball as well.
27
While I Tell of Yuletide Treasure
Monday, December 22, 1873
“What in blazes are you saying?” the Duke of Wentworth bellowed. His round face was mottled with outrage, and his bloated fingers were clenched in fury.
Remaining calm, Quinton was more than ready to face his wrath. Without question, it was well deserved. He spoke quietly, “You know quite well what I am saying, Your Grace. And yes, I understand all too well the ramifications and the serious nature of the situation.” Hadn’t he wrestled with this decision for days?
“Then you must be out of your bleeding mind!” The duke paced back and forth in front of the mantel, not knowing what to do with his raging temper. “Christmas is in three days, the wedding in less than ten days. This will break Emmeline’s heart!”
“Yes. Perhaps it will.” Quinton paused, his voice calm in stark contrast with the duke’s. “However, wouldn’t it be better for her to face the truth now rather than later, when it is too late to do anything about it?”
The duke’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “There is another woman then?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus Christ, Quinton!” The duke ran his chubby fingers through his graying hair. “If that is all it is, can’t you just set your tart up in a little house somewhere? I don’t give a damn if you keep a paramour! No one would care. Emmeline wouldn’t even have to know about her. You cannot cancel this wedding, which is the social event of the year, less than two weeks before the ceremony all over some little strumpet!”
Quinton used every ounce of self-control not to punch the man. Lisette did not deserve to be called names. “She is not a strumpet. I intend to marry her. If she’ll have me.”
The duke scoffed at him, scorn etched in his face. “You’re giving up all of this and you’re not even sure of the girl?”
“Yes.” He did not even wish to contemplate what he would do if Lisette insisted on marrying Henry Brooks. All he knew was that he had made a life-altering decision. And he felt to his core that it was the right decision.
After seeing Lisette at the Duke of Rathmore’s Christmas Ball, he realized just how much he was in love with her. Upon wrestling with his conscience for two days, it was suddenly crystal clear what he had to do. He had come directly to the Duke of Wentworth first to break the news. Lady Emmeline’s father deserved to be told foremost, since he was the one who had offered up the terms of this deal in the first place. He still had yet to face Lady Emmeline himself.
“You realize everything you will be losing? Everything you will be giving up?”
Quinton nodded. He had weighed all his options carefully and knew the potential losses were great. However, none was greater than losing Lisette Hamilton. He wanted her as his wife. He wanted to spend his life with her by his side. Her wedding was not until June, so he had plenty of time to convince her otherwise. And he had no doubt that he would.
The Duke of Wentworth puffed out his barrel chest. “I warn you, I fully intend to rescind all my financial backing for your housing endeavor.”
“Your Grace, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” Quinton had known this would be a consequence, and he had been busy thinking up alternate ways of funding his housing project. He had already contacted a few potential donors to replace his losses.
The duke continued his threats. “And I will not support your bid for Parliament when that time comes.”
“I understand that as well. That is your choice to make.”
Frustrated that his threats were not working, the duke ran his fingers through his hair again. His gray tresses now stood out in crazy angles, giving him the appearance of a wild man. “Is there nothing I can do to stop you from doing this ludicrous thing, which I know you will come to regret one day?”
“No.”
The duke’s eyes glittered with coldness. “You are determined then?”
“Yes.” Quinton was more determined than he’d ever been in his life. “I should like to speak with your daughter now.”
The older man shook his head in disgust. “You are an idiot, Quinton Roxbury. A great ass. I never took you for the foolish type, but I guess I was mistaken.” He paused and gave him a murderous stare. “You know I can ruin you?”
Quinton studied the duke with a resolved calmness. “Yes, and there is nothing I can do to prevent you from doing such a thing if you wish to. However, I do not believe you will.”
“You think not?” the duke ground out between clenched teeth. “You throw over my only daughter, my precious girl, for another woman less than two weeks before her wedding and you think I will not avenge her honor in some way?”
Again, Quinton stayed unshakably calm at the duke’s threats. His voice remained controlled as he reasoned with the older man. “I think you are more honorable than you realize, Your Grace. Ruining me would only add fire to the scandal and cause Emmeline further embarrassment. And think of this . . . Would you rather I married your daughter, knowing full well I love another, and make Emmeline miserable for the rest of her life? Don’t you think your daughter is deserving of a husband who will love and cherish her properly?”
The duke remained oddly silent. Quinton’s point had hit its mark.
“As your only daughter, your precious girl, don’t you wish for Emmeline to be loved? To be happy?” Quinton used the duke’s own words against him. “I cannot make her happy. I should never have agreed to your offer to marry her in the first place. I am convinced that a union between us would be nothing short of disastrous.”
The Duke of Wentworth continued to stare at the floor.
“Your Grace?” Quinton asked. “Do you see my point?”
The Duke of Wentworth dismissed Quinton with a wave of his hand and turned away to face the mantel. Quinton surmised that the duke had agreed with him.
Leaving the duke’s private study, he now had a more daunting task ahead of him. When he reached the salon, he paused outside the door. He took a deep breath before entering. The duchess and her daughter were both seated expectantly.
Quinton began, “Lady Wentworth, your husband wishes for you to join him in his study so that I might have a moment or two of privacy with Lady Emmeline.”
Her expression growing more worried, Emmeline’s mother murmured in agreement and hurried out of the room, casting a nervous glance at them before she left.
Quinton stood still, waiting, dreading what he had to say to the young woman seated before him.
“Please sit down, Quinton,” Emmeline instructed, her voice sweeter than usual.
He moved to sit on the footstool before her. He took her hand in his. Surprised by the coldness of her skin, he gave her hand a ligh
t squeeze. “I’m afraid you will be very hurt and disappointed by what I am about to say, Emmeline, and you must believe it was never my intention to hurt you.”
She blinked rapidly and her thin lips trembled. “I have a feeling I already know what you’re going to say, but please go on.”
“I’ve just spoken to your father and explained the situation to him.” God, but this was awful. Better to get it over with quickly. “I am very sorry, but I wish to call off our wedding, Emmeline.”
She pulled her hand from his as if she were burned and rose to her feet. “I knew it.” She moved away from him, her ruby silk skirts swishing behind her. “Everyone who is anyone in society is coming to our wedding, do you realize that? I shall be ruined. Publicly humiliated.”
“Canceling our wedding does not necessarily mean public humiliation.” He stood and followed her.
“It does when your fiancé is leaving you for another woman.”
He stilled at her words. “Emmeline.”
She spun around to face him, her expression accusatory. “You cannot deny it, can you?”
“No.” There was nothing more to say.
Her angular shoulders hunched. “So it’s true? You’d rather be with that insignificant little shop girl than with the daughter of a duke? I admit that she’s pretty, but really, Quinton, must you stoop so low?”
He ignored her aspersions on Lisette, although his chest tightened. “Would you rather marry me knowing I love her instead?”
She flinched and he knew his remark had hit home. He felt her pain and wished somehow that he were not the cause of it.
“I never meant for this to happen, Emmeline. I met her quite by accident only a few weeks ago. I cannot even begin to explain how all of this came about, but I am deeply sorry for hurting you.”
“So Penelope Eaton was right? She did see you kissing Lisette Hamilton in Brighton, didn’t she?”
Every time Quinton thought about that day, he did not regret talking to Lisette. He did not regret almost kissing her in public. He did not even regret being seen by the Eaton sisters. But what he regretted, what he wished more than anything, was that he had not let Lisette run from the curio shop alone. He should have gone after her. “No, Penelope Eaton is mistaken. Miss Hamilton and I were not kissing. However, we were having a rather intense conversation about our . . . situation.”
It Happened One Christmas Page 24