When His Kiss Is Wicked

by Kaitlin O'Riley

  Lucien nodded reluctantly. Indeed he was.

  “And you’re still determined to go through with this godawful idea before the Season is over?”

  “I owe it to my father. He’s dying, Jeffrey. I cannot deny him this. He’s had too much sadness in his life as it is. I can at least let him see me married before he dies. He deserves to know the family line will continue.”

  The image of his father, Simon Sinclair, the Marquis of Stancliff, lying frail and weak in his darkened bedchamber, chilled him. The weakened muscles, the pallid complexion, and the dull, lifeless eyes haunted him. He owed his father more than he had given him over the last few years. His father needed him desperately now. And Lucien had vowed to himself to be there for him.

  From the moment his father had been stricken with the strange paralysis, Lucien had been at his bedside night and day, and when he wasn’t there, he was in Simon’s office. He had actually taken over the duties of his father’s estate, and to his great surprise he found that he actually enjoyed it. For the last few years Simon had been trying to get Lucien more involved in managing the marquisate, but Lucien’s heart and mind had been involved elsewhere. Now it was different. Now he focused on the issues that needed his attention and he had begun making changes. As soon as he felt he could leave his father, he would travel to all the Sinclair estate holdings and see for himself how matters could be improved.

  Lucien had learned more during the last few weeks than he had in all his years at the university. Through working assiduously and dealing with the day-to-day financial issues of the massive estate that he was marked to inherit, Lucien finally found a sense of purpose within himself that no amount of gambling and pleasure-seeking had ever been able to assuage, no matter how diligently pursued. For the first time in years, he felt useful and hopeful of a meaningful life, even with his father’s inevitable demise looming over him.

  “I guess you would have to marry eventually anyway.” Jeffrey pointed out the obvious. “I can’t imagine you would see the whole estate go to that idiot cousin of yours.”

  Lucien nodded in agreement. “I can promise you that Edmund will never inherit my father’s estate.”

  “Have you any prospects on the lucky woman who will be your bride?”

  “None yet,” Lucien answered with a heavy sigh. “I just know I want a sweet, biddable chit. One who is virtuous, kind, and good-tempered. One who will do as I ask and not cause difficulties. One who would be happy to stay quietly at home at my country estate, not here in town caught up in the social season. One who will be content enough with raising children.”

  “You didn’t say she had to be beautiful.”

  “No, I did not.” Beauty was definitely not a requirement in a wife for Lucien. In fact, he would prefer anything but beautiful. Beautiful women caused only trouble and misery. He knew that from firsthand experience.

  Jeffrey laughed at the hard look on Lucien’s face. “Any wife of mine would have to be a beauty. I couldn’t bear anything less. If I’m going to be leg-shackled, I’d prefer a very attractive shackle. But what you’re seeking won’t be a challenging task. Simply look over there.” He gestured across the immense ballroom.

  There along the opposite wall amid the potted plants and elderly matrons sat the plain, ignored young ladies who had not been asked to dance all evening, except perhaps for the obligatory dances required by their male family members. These were the ladies who had been passed over Season after Season but were still paraded about each year by their parents in hopes of finally snaring a husband. Never having given such females a second glance before, Lucien now stared at them with a critical eye.

  One of those sad ladies would certainly make a suitable wife for him. Yes, he admitted to himself, some were rather decidedly on the plump side and a few were quite unfortunate looking, but all in all they were not repulsive. Perhaps they were not the most fashionable or the most sociable of women, but he was sure they had other admirable qualities. They just needed a closer look to find their less obvious nonphysical attributes.

  No, these ladies certainly would not turn heads, but Lucien didn’t want a wife who could turn heads. He wanted a woman who would behave, such as the small one with the blond hair in the plain dress, for example. She had a sweet expression on her face in spite of her dull attire. She would certainly be grateful to have a man like Lucien for a husband. Grateful enough to conduct herself as a faithful and obedient wife.

  “You’re not seriously considering one of those when you have your choice of the most beautiful and elegant women in London?”

  Jeffrey’s seductive words shook him, but Lucien would not be swayed. He knew what would be best for him, and he would not be deterred in his quest to marry an obedient and well-behaved woman. If that meant she would be plain as well, then so be it. Beautiful women were not worth the misery they were capable of causing. He had experienced all too painfully the heartache and damage they caused. No, he was quite right in his thinking. A plain, biddable wife. That was the way to go.

  “Yes. What about that sweet-looking one on the end there,” Lucien said in a quiet tone, pointing out the blonde.

  Jeffrey shook his head in disbelief. “Well, I wish you luck, for I think you’ll desperately need it. As for me, I’m fortunate enough not to have the pressure to marry placed upon my shoulders. Having no name to carry on has its benefits—” He stopped abruptly as a predatory gleam appeared in his eyes. “Well, well. Look who is coming this way…”

  At Jeffrey’s instruction, Lucien turned his head to see to what his friend referred. Two stunning women approached them, but he had eyes only for one, and she literally took his breath away. Good God. It was the beautiful woman from the bookshop. The very same woman he had been so tempted to kiss.

  Even more enchanting than she had been that afternoon, Colette Hamilton stood before him. Gone were the dirt smudges and bits of dust in her hair. Gone were the shapeless navy dress and large work apron. Gone was the little shopkeeper. Even in that dark and dingy shop, he had recognized her as a beautiful woman, but now he could not take his eyes off her. One would never guess that she worked in a bookshop. Dressed in a fitted gown of pale blue silk, she displayed a lush and shapely form that aroused him immediately. Her rich, dark hair was arranged in a sophisticated style upon her head, baring her long, elegant neck. She now appeared a graceful and serene angel.

  “Hello again, Miss Hamilton,” Jeffrey said to the other woman standing beside Colette.

  Lucien then noticed Juliette Hamilton for the first time. She looked like a darker version of her sister. Both were beautiful women, undeniably. However, Juliette could barely suppress the wildness in her eyes. Something about Colette’s softer loveliness appealed to him more than her sister’s daring beauty did.

  “Please forgive me,” Juliette Hamilton said with what closely resembled a smirk on her heart-shaped face. “But I do believe I have forgotten your name.”

  “You have forgotten me so soon? You have wounded me to the quick, Miss Hamilton,” Jeffrey stated dramatically, his eyes full of mirth.

  Juliette raised an elegantly arched brow at him. “Somehow I find that highly doubtful.”

  “I shall have to reintroduce myself to you, then. I am Lord Jeffrey Eddington and this is my friend, the Earl of Waverly.” Jeffrey bowed gallantly.

  Juliette’s dark eyes raked over the both of them, but Lucien could only see Colette. He wondered if she was as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

  “This is my sister, Colette Hamilton.” Juliette introduced her to both men.

  “There was not a doubt in my mind that you two were sisters,” Jeffrey commented, greeting Colette. “You both look astonishingly alike.”

  “I am pleased to see you again, Miss Hamilton,” Lucien said, with a polite nod toward the so far silent Colette.

  “Good evening, Lord Waverly.” She grinned cryptically.

  “How do you two know each other?” Jeffrey asked him in confusion, while Juliett
e Hamilton’s raised eyebrows conveyed her surprise that her sister already knew Lucien.

  Enjoying the fact that he knew something about these two women that his friend did not, Lucien explained. “We met at her family’s bookshop last week.”

  Taking in this bit of information, Jeffrey questioned, “Have you a bookshop?”

  “Yes,” Colette responded. “Hamilton’s Book Shoppe. It’s in Mayfair, just off Bond Street.”

  “I am a fortunate man!” Jeffrey grinned gleefully. “For now I know where to find two beautiful ladies!”

  Both girls giggled at Jeffrey’s words, but Lucien could not stop staring at Colette. “It’s lovely to see you again, Miss Hamilton. What an unexpected pleasure to see you this evening.”

  Colette shook her head slightly. “I had not expected to see you either.”

  “Would you care to dance with me, Miss Hamilton?” Jeffrey asked, his eyes still on Juliette.

  “I’m afraid that we cannot,” Colette responded rather hurriedly, before her sister could answer. “It seems our uncle has already chosen our dance partners for this evening.”

  “Well, that is terrible news.” Jeffrey gave a lamentable shake of his head. “I must see your uncle about getting my name on your list of partners.”

  “I would love to dance with you, Lord Eddington,” Juliette said with a cool and defiant glance at her sister.

  The silent interplay between the two women would have amused Lucien, but he sensed something wildly rebellious about Juliette. Colette clearly did not wish for her sister to dance with Jeffrey, which probably demonstrated good judgment on her part. Eddington and Juliette together could be an unmanageable and rather dangerous combination.

  “Well, then. I can hardly refuse such a simple request, Miss Hamilton.” Jeffrey grinned from ear to ear. “Shall we?” He offered Juliette his arm and the two of them moved into the throng on the dance floor before Colette could utter another protest.

  Lucien stood there in awkward silence, Colette by his side, watching Jeffrey and Juliette waltz away together. He would love to take Colette in his arms and dance with her, but he knew it would be wiser to focus on his goal that evening.

  “Are you enjoying the ball?” Colette asked, making a polite attempt at conversation with him.

  “Well enough,” he said, admiring the way her silky brunette ringlets framed her face. She was truly a beautiful woman.

  “Did your ‘friend’ enjoy the book of poetry you bought?”

  At first her question startled him, for he could not think to whom she referred. Then he recalled that he had led her to believe that he bought the poetry book for a woman. He gave her an answer to rattle her calm demeanor. “I decided to keep the book for myself.”

  She raised her blue eyes at him, as if expecting him to explain himself. The challenging look on her face elicited the same feeling he had for her that afternoon in the bookshop. He had come so close to kissing her then, and now that unexpected desire had returned with a vengeance. Her full lips simply begged to be kissed. He fought the urge to lift his hand and caress her face.

  “I read page seventy-four and I’m afraid that I must disagree with you, Miss Hamilton.” The look of surprise on her pretty face made him grin wickedly.

  After their meeting in the bookshop, he had been intrigued by her referral to page seventy-four, and he made the effort to read the poem later that night. It turned out to be a ridiculous poem about love at first sight. Surprised that a business-minded and opinionated lady such as Colette would have a tender spot for fated love, he had laughed heartily at her romanticism. Love at first sight was for inexperienced young fools who did not know how love could wound a heart.

  “Then you disagree with Christopher Marlowe’s sentiments?” she questioned him with a curious glance.

  “Of course,” he scoffed. “There is no such thing as love at first sight.”

  “There you are, Colette!” A tall gentleman with a shiny bald head and bushy eyebrows strode purposefully toward them.

  “Lord Waverly, may I present my uncle, Lord Randall Hamilton,” Colette introduced him to her uncle. “Uncle Randall, this is the Earl of Waverly.”

  Lucien noted the sudden gleam in her uncle’s eyes. “Good evening.”

  Randall Hamilton gave Lucien a polite nod. “Good evening, Lord Waverly.” He took hold of Colette’s arm. “If you would excuse us, please.”

  Pulling his niece aside rather forcefully, he moved her behind a large and leafy potted plant, but Lucien could still hear their conversation due to her uncle’s harsh tone of voice.

  “I have been looking for you for the last twenty minutes. Where is Juliette?” he demanded impatiently, his anger evident in his manner.

  “She’s dancing.”

  “With whom?”

  Colette hesitated before answering. “With Lord Eddington.”

  “Good God! I should have expected something like that from her. Not only is Eddington a bastard, but he also has a notorious reputation. Did I not give you both explicit instructions that you were only to dance with gentlemen I approved of first? Did I not?”

  “Yes, Uncle Randall.”

  “And yet here I find you with Lord Waverly, whose reputation is only slightly better than that of Eddington’s.”

  Lucien cringed at that comment. He was not completely innocent of all the feats ascribed to him, but the talk about him was highly overexaggerated. For the first time, the idea that he was someone a young woman might be warned away from left him feeling slightly unsettled. Would this hinder his search for a prospective bride?

  “If you expect to marry well, you must be extremely careful. Lord Eddington and Lord Waverly may flirt with you, but they will never marry you.”

  The uncle continued to berate Colette, yet maddeningly his voiced lowered into a fierce whisper so that Lucien could no longer make out what he was saying.

  He fought an impulse to intervene and protect Colette from her pompous uncle, yet he knew that with his reputation, to have him defending her would do little to help her cause. And though he was loathe to admit it, he agreed with Randall Hamilton, for he was absolutely correct. If he wanted his nieces married, then Colette and her sister should not be seen flirting with the likes of Eddington and himself. Lucien felt some relief that there was a male relative looking after the pretty Hamilton sisters after all. Colette was managing a bookshop on her own, which in itself was problematic. She needed her uncle to watch over her. And Lord knew that the reckless Juliette desperately needed someone to take her in hand.

  No, Lucien did not care for the way Colette’s uncle treated her, but had the Hamilton sisters been in his charge, he would be giving them similar orders.

  He glanced toward the potted plant and watched as Randall Hamilton marched off with Colette firmly in his grip. Ignoring the niggling sense of unease in his chest when he thought of her, Lucien forced his attention back to the quiet ladies sitting along the wall.

  He had a job to do. He needed to find a wife. And he knew without a doubt that his search for a woman who met his list of requirements would not involve love at first sight.

  In fact, it would not have anything to do with love at all.

  Chapter Four

  Business or Pleasure?

  “I don’t even care for Jeffrey Eddington in a romantic way,” Juliette declared hotly in her defense. “I just wanted a bit of fun. I thought balls were supposed to be fun. None of the other gaseous windbags I met last evening were any fun at all. And I just wanted to show Uncle Randall that I don’t have to do everything he says.”

  Colette fought the urge to snap at her sister and instead slammed the small stack of books she had been holding onto the table in front of her.

  She had spent the entire evening at the Hayvenhursts’ ball being lectured by her bombastic uncle, while Juliette flirted outrageously with or scorned any male that came within distance of her. Colette had been so angry by the time they got home, she didn’t trust herself to speak
civilly. Here it was the next day, and she was still having a difficult time of it.

  “But right now we do have to do everything he says, Juliette!”

  “I know that,” Juliette conceded ruefully, “but I just cannot bear all his orders and proclamations.”

  “And you believe that I do?” Colette snapped in response. “Do you think I liked dancing with those stodgy men he partnered me with? Do you think I enjoyed being dragged about by Uncle Randall all night, listening to his ranting about your behavior?”

  “No,” Juliette admitted, her defiant attitude somewhat deflated. “But you just seem to bear it all better than I do. You’re the responsible one.”

  Colette stared pointedly at her sister. “Do you have any idea how important this is to us? It’s not just you and me. Our marrying well is important to Mother. And to Lisette, Paulette, and Yvette. Everything we do now affects them and their futures, as well as our own.”

  Juliette glanced down in shame. It was the first time she showed any remorse for her behavior. Colette felt that maybe she had finally gotten through to her.

  “This is not a game, Juliette. If you damage your reputation by acting recklessly and foolishly just to spite Uncle Randall, you will not only ruin your own chances of finding a husband, but you may very well ruin mine, too.”

  Her sister still said nothing.

  “Do you want to end up on the street if we lose the bookshop? Or worse yet, do you want to have to live with Uncle Randall and Aunt Cecilia? Because that is just what will happen if we don’t marry well and I cannot make a go of this shop. Our whole family and our way of life are depending on you and me.”

  Juliette looked up, her face contrite, and whispered, “You are right. I’m sorry you had to bear the brunt of my actions, Colette. I promise I will try to behave better next time.”