Once Upon a Kiss (Book Club Belles Society)

by Jayne Fresina

  Nate leaned on the sideboard and turned his head to slur at the other man. “You pompous fool, I suppose you’re pleased with yourself. I can see what you’ve been up to with Jussy. She’s an innocent maid, a girl. I will not stand by and see her corrupted by the likes of you.”

  Justina was astonished to see and hear the captain becoming gallant on her behalf. Although completely unnecessary, it was rather touching.

  On the other hand, an angry Darius, drawn to full height, was a terrifying prospect to behold. “I beg your pardon?”

  Justina quickly grabbed her old friend’s arms to pull him back. But the captain shook her off and in so doing, accidentally pushed her so that she fell against the punch bowl, sending it—and her—crashing to the floor.

  Before her knees had hit the carpet, she saw Darius swing a fist. It contacted hard with the captain’s jaw. A return punch was thrown, but Sherry was already off balance and the excess of cider didn’t help.

  The room did not explode in chaos as might be expected. Perhaps the sight was so shocking that no one knew how to react immediately, or else they thought it was a scene rehearsed from one of Justina’s plays.

  Only when the captain suddenly cast up his accounts, all over the rug, did the onlookers emerge from their apparent trance. Lady Waltham cried out so loudly in her morbid enjoyment of the horror that the major finally awoke.

  ***

  The Midwitch folk prepared to climb into Mary’s barouche for the ride back to the manor.

  “Well, that was certainly riveting entertainment,” she remarked snidely as she stepped up. “Better than the opera!”

  Miss Milford had a handkerchief, of which she’d licked one corner, and she kept trying to press it to Wainwright’s bloody lip, while he, equally determined, kept his head high to avoid her reach. “Really, Miss Milford, I am quite all right. It was barely a knick.” The captain had been too drunk to properly aim his solitary punch and then he’d tripped over Justina’s foot and tumbled to his knees, which brought a quick resolution to the argument. Darius was more concerned about Justina, but she seemed to be recovered and, with Mr. Kenton’s help, was putting on her coat to walk home with her sister and the other two ladies.

  Miss Rebecca Sherringham was profusely apologetic for her brother’s behavior, and Darius assured her it was nothing.

  “We have all made mistakes in the heat of passion,” he told her. “I have no doubt the captain will wake tomorrow with a heavy head and a great deal of remorse.”

  “You are very understanding, Mr. Wainwright.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  The young lady merely arched an eyebrow and hurried off to join the others.

  “Do get in, Darius. It’s bitter cold,” his stepsister called out from the interior of the carriage.

  He looked at Miles. “Perhaps we should give up our seats for Mrs. Makepiece and her daughter. We could escort the other ladies safely home. There is not room for everyone in the carriage.”

  Miles looked a little put out at first, but bore the idea bravely once it was pointed out that he could walk the eldest Miss Penny to her door and take advantage of the starry, chill evening.

  “Don’t be a fool,” his stepsister argued, sticking her head out again. “I’m sure those women have not far to go.”

  But Darius moved swiftly away and a few moments later he had persuaded the Makepiece ladies to take the warm ride home. Captain Sherringham had offered to take them, but he was in no fit state, of course, and the major’s gout would not allow him to try. Mr. Kenton had already started off with little Lucy in his gig, since the tavern and church were near neighbors, facing one another across the village green. That left the Penny sisters.

  “We’re quite capable of walking home alone,” the eldest assured them demurely. “It really is not far, sir.”

  Darius insisted quietly. Miles held out his arm for Miss Penny, and she accepted with a charming blush.

  ***

  Justina could not quite ascertain Wainwright’s purpose in managing all this, and part of her wanted to think he had devious motives. Perhaps he merely intended to lecture her again. However, he had displayed chivalry that evening, saving her friend from torment and reacting swiftly in retaliation when she was pushed. These were all the actions of a hero, rather than the villain she’d once decided he ought to be. But this plot was continually changing and surprising her as no fiction ever had.

  He offered his arm. “Miss Justina, I’m sure the very idea of my company for a quarter of an hour disgusts you, but will you permit me to walk you home?”

  What else could she do? Her sister and Mr. Forester were already at the end of the street and would soon be out of sight.

  “Thank you, Mr. Wainwright.” She looped her arm under his. “And I never said the word disgust.”

  “Really? I thought you did. It felt as if you did.”

  “Does your lip hurt?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “It was merely a graze.” He raised a hand toward her and while she waited, holding her breath, he pulled up the collar of her coat. “You have no scarf.”

  She exhaled a little cloud of mist. “It doesn’t matter.” After the card party drama she was quite glad of the cool air now.

  “I hope your gown wasn’t spoiled tonight.”

  “Surprisingly, it escaped the cider and Captain Sherringham’s…expulsions.”

  “Good. I would demand the captain make recompense if there is any damage.”

  “But there is none,” she assured him.

  His eyes met hers and searched for something. “You’re sure? He has not…hurt you?”

  Now she began to suspect he was thinking of what else the captain might have spoiled. “Mr. Wainwright, rest assured I am unharmed.”

  With her collar adjusted to his satisfaction they moved on. “I am glad your gown survived the event.” He hesitated, slowing his pace. “You look…well in it.”

  “I do?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes. I like the gown. Very much.”

  Justina turned her head away to hide her smile, not wanting to discourage him now that he’d actually found something pleasant to say.

  “I thought, perhaps, you wore it for Captain Sherringham.”

  “Then you and my mama were wrong.” She turned her smile into a wry one and let him see it.

  The end of his nose and the tips of his ears were starting to turn red with cold, but she supposed it wouldn’t be very ladylike to point it out. Rather endearing, though. Made her want to warm them for him.

  “Will you tell me now about Nellie?”

  “If you tell me, madam, why you were looking for Captain Sherringham’s bed last year.”

  She swallowed. Oh, that. “It was a silly fancy I had.”

  “Silly fancy?”

  “I know, I know! It was rash, reckless, childish, and thoughtless.”

  “Better choices of adjective, certainly. There are others.”

  “I don’t care to hear them. I made a mistake.”

  “His idea, no doubt.”

  “No!” She stopped and looked up at him, slipping her arm from his. “It was entirely my idea. He never knew a thing about it.” With a deep sigh, she added morosely, “If he did he probably would have laughed.”

  His eyes were suspicious, but not angry with her as she’d expected.

  “If I tell you,” she cried, “you had better tell me all about Nellie!”

  He nodded gravely. “Of course. Proceed, madam.”

  She gathered her courage, twisting her gloved hands together. “I wanted to find out what it was like.”

  “It?”

  “Between a man and a woman. Don’t look at me that way! You know very well what I mean.”

  His breath formed frosty clouds around his mouth and his eyes were dark. She c
ould not read his expression this time, so she rushed ahead. No going back now that she was this far in.

  “I thought Nate was the best man to show me. And before you think me a complete and utter hussy, let me assure you—I imagined myself in love. Yes, I know you will laugh at that.”

  He did not. He was very still, just watching her lips.

  “But my mother was so certain I could never find a husband—”

  “You thought to prove her wrong.”

  “I didn’t want to be paraded about and bartered over like a side of bacon at the market. If I could choose for myself, and quickly, then I wouldn’t have to be compared anymore to Cathy.” She paused and bit her lip. “I don’t suppose you know what it is like to be the lesser of two siblings. As much as I love my sister and quite agree that she is far worthier of anyone’s affections…it can get very wearing at times.”

  He tilted his head, contemplating her words gravely, it seemed. “Yes,” was all he said.

  Justina forged ahead. “I had known Nathaniel Sherringham for a long time—five years at least—”

  “Oh, a very long time indeed.”

  “Hush, sir, and kindly allow me to finish! I thought that if I must have a husband…” Brittle in the cold air, her words shattered, falling away to dust.

  “I see.”

  She gasped, frustrated by his apparent inability to show emotion. “Don’t start I seeing me again!”

  He licked his lips and a mist curled out between them as he exhaled. “You have a most troublesome curiosity, Miss Justina.”

  “So I am often told.”

  After another pause he held out his arm again, she took it, and they walked on. He seemed deep in thought so she did not disturb the quiet, but gazed up at the star-sprinkled sky and wondered why she had told him all that. She didn’t have to. Not really. She could have made something up and not cared whether he believed her or not. Yet she’d told him what she’d never confessed to another living soul. Not even to Sir Mortimer Grubbins.

  Well, his opinion of her could not fall much further anyway, she mused glumly. It was a wonder he still gave her his arm to hold, considering she was such a dreadful little slattern.

  Eventually, unable to maintain this silence which only she seemed to find unbearably tense, she blurted, “Are you going to marry Miss Milford?”

  “Miss Milford?”

  “I hear the lady thinks she has some sort of claim upon you, but I can’t imagine she’d make you a very good wife.” Then she shook her head and laughed lightly. “Of course, it is none of my business. You must do what you think best.”

  Justina felt his gaze on her again. “Thank you, madam, I shall.”

  She tried to keep from scowling, but her face was so cold just then she couldn’t feel it properly to know what it did.

  “Miss Penny, you’re stomping your feet like a cart horse.”

  “Because my toes are numb,” she snapped.

  He looked down at her feet. Fully expecting him to make some remark about her worn boots, she was surprised when he remained silent. His gaze trailed upward and over her straining coat buttons, before he hastily took it away again and set it firmly on the horizon.

  A few moments later they were at the gate and there was no time to say anything more. As she and Cathy watched the two gentlemen walk away again, she suddenly realized he still had not told her anything about Nellie Pickles. He had wormed a confession out of her about Captain Sherringham and then cleverly evaded his side of the bargain.

  Again he cheated her, just like that kiss in his study. Never fulfill your side of a business transaction while negotiations are still underway. Wait until the ink is dry.

  Damn the man! He was impossible. But she discovered a new, begrudging respect for his skills. No wonder he was so successful in business and had gained the reputation—according to Miles Forester—for being thoroughly ruthless.

  “Mr. Wainwright was very attentive to you this evening, Jussy,” said Cathy, as the two girls entered the house.

  Her reply was a nonchalant “Was he? I did not notice.”

  “Oh, I’m sure no one else did either. Your secret is quite safe.”

  In the process of untying her bonnet, she paused and stared at her sister. Cathy held her lips together as best she could, but her shrewd eyes shimmered with all that went unsaid.

  Justina began to understand then what it was like for women such as Diana and her sister, who kept their worries to themselves and struggled alone, putting on a brave face for the world. Managing their own challenges without making a lot of noise and trouble for others. Her fingers toyed with the ribbons on her bonnet as it swung at her side and she followed Cathy up the stairs to bed.

  How funny it is that my sister and the people of Hawcombe Prior should feel protective of W already. As if, despite his superior comportment and evident faults, he now belongs here and to them, and no one has a right to steal him away. Since the arrival of his stepsister and her friend, W is no longer the stranger in our midst.

  Sometimes that is how it works in a village like ours.

  Even Diana’s mother, who seldom has anything good to say of young men, says he is a “fine gentleman.” If not for the dreary greengrocer, one might think she now has her sights set on W too for her daughter! Is the poor man safe from no one?

  Diana has boldly decided she should take the lead in our play after all, whatever her fiancé has to say about it. I am glad, for Cathy is always too shy to take the romantic lead, and Rebecca, aside from having no ability to learn her lines, cannot play a wronged maiden without laughing. And Lucy refuses to play any part that is poorly dressed and does not demand the wearing of perfect ringlets.

  W still has not returned for the hat and gloves he once left here and although Papa promised to take them to Midwitch, he keeps forgetting. There they sit upon our hall table gathering dust.

  I suppose I should remind Papa.

  Mama, however, continues to hope W will return for them. Apparently I inherited my optimism from her.

  J. P. October 6th, 1815 A.D.

  Twenty-nine

  Darius was in his study very early one morning, a few days after the party, when he heard fingers tapping on his window. He turned in surprise and saw Justina there in her wilted bonnet. She looked rather pale and worried. Putting his pen down, he walked to the window and jerked it stiffly open.

  “Miss Justina! What have I told you about doors? I thought we had the matter settled that you would use appropriate exits and entrances from now on.”

  “Yes. Yes. This is no time for jests, sir. Has Lucy been here? Have you seen her?”

  He frowned. “No. She has not been here since the last time you both came.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders sank.

  “Won’t you come in? My stepsister and Miss Milford are not yet up, but I—”

  “Thank you, sir, but no. I didn’t want to wake your other guests or apprise them of the situation.” Her gloved hands twisted together and she looked away into the orchard. “I had hoped she came here to see Sir Mortimer.”

  “I’m afraid not. Miss Lucy Bridges seems to have lost interest in her pet of late.”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “It’s a good thing you take such good care of him.”

  “I’m becoming…quite fond of the creature.”

  She looked at him again, blinking. “Yes.”

  “Are you sure you won’t come in?”

  “Quite. Thank you. Good day, sir.”

  She dashed off again, leaving him alone at the window. He closed it slowly and stood very still for a few moments, wondering.

  ***

  “Well?” Catherine and Rebecca had waited outside the gates, one hopeful, the other impatient and anxious.

  Justina shook her head. “No. She is not here.”

  Immediately Rebecc
a clutched her face and groaned. “I know what’s happened. We all do. Now it is confirmed. We’ve looked everywhere.”

  “Do not despair, Becky. There must be some explanation.”

  “For my brother being gone in his new curricle and Lucy disappearing on the same day? I think we all know what the explanation is but none dare say it!”

  At that moment Diana came running up, her bonnet clinging on only by the ribbons around her throat. “Mrs. Dockley said she saw Captain Sherringham’s curricle go by very early this morning.”

  “That’s it then,” exclaimed Rebecca, crumpling by the wall. “My brother has finally ruined us all. He is thoughtless, indiscreet, selfish! Oh, this will surely kill our papa. And poor Mr. and Mrs. Bridges! Their only daughter! Oh, I cannot face them. I cannot.”

  “It is not your fault, Becky!” Justina assured her. “You are innocent in all this.”

  But she shook her head violently. “I knew something was building in him and I—”

  “No. I will not believe it,” Diana exclaimed firmly. “I know he has his faults, but he would never do this.”

  They all looked at her in surprise.

  “He can be a most frustrating man, and he has made mistakes,” she added, “as we all do from time to time. But he is not so very bad as he likes to pretend.”

  “I wish I had your faith in my brother.”

  Diana, however, was determined. “Nathaniel is our friend, just as dear Lucy is, and we must not turn our backs upon either of them. Whatever has happened, I am sure they meant no ill by it.”

  Cathy solemnly agreed, although her pale blue eyes were dampened by tears.

  The rusty whine of the gate hinges behind them abruptly heralded the appearance of Mr. Wainwright. All the ladies immediately fell silent and looked at the ground.

  “I suggest someone tell me what’s going on,” he said firmly. “Unless the Book Club Belles have taken to holding meetings outside my gate.”

  Justina’s mind was racing. She looked at her friends and knew none of them would dare tell him. It would have to be her.

  “It’s Lucy. She’s run off. With Captain Sherringham. It is just like Lydia and Wickham.”