When His Kiss Is Wicked

by Kaitlin O'Riley

  “Thank you,” Colette said with a sense of relief. “We’ll be going to Lady Hutton’s ball next. I expect you to make more of a pointed effort to please Uncle Randall then.”

  “I will.”

  “I’m not saying that you have to marry anyone he suggests, just try to comport yourself in a manner that satisfies him, all right?” Colette began shelving the books she had slammed onto the table a few moments before.

  “I will try, I promise.”

  Now that she was no longer in disgrace, Juliette’s disposition lightened with a flashing smile and Colette marveled at the mercurial quickness of her moods. Her sister could change from anger to laughter in mere seconds. Her ability to do so always astounded her.

  Colette rolled the tall library ladder that allowed her to reach the higher shelves of the philosophy section into position and began to climb the wooden rungs. “Hand me those books, please.” She pointed to another stack on the table that she had already alphabetized and categorized.

  Juliette languidly passed two volumes of Rene Descartes up to her sister. “You have to admit that all the men Uncle Randall suggested were hideous. Each one was a disaster. A disaster with deep pockets, but a disaster just the same. The only handsome men who even got close to us were Lord Eddington and his somewhat humorless friend, the Earl of Waverly.”

  At the mention of Lucien Sinclair, Colette’s foot slipped from the ladder rung and she dropped one of the books. She righted herself quickly and took a deep breath.

  “Be careful up there!” Juliette admonished, retrieving the fallen book.

  “I’m fine,” Colette said shakily.

  Juliette continued, “Lord Eddington was great fun, though. A girl has to be on her toes when she’s with him. But that Lord Waverly seemed so proper and so very lord-of-the-manor stiff, for all he has a reputation as a rogue. I didn’t care for him.”

  Colette wondered what her sister would think of Lucien Sinclair if she knew that he’d almost kissed her in the bookshop last week. She had kept that little secret to herself, though. Last night Lord Waverly had possessed a cool seriousness that made her more uncomfortable than his attempted kiss. Frankly, she had been stunned to see him at the Hayvenhursts’ ball and had been unsure how to approach him. He had not asked her to dance as Lord Eddington had done with Juliette and he had seemed un-sinterested in her, almost distant. And still he managed to occupy Colette’s thoughts for the remainder of the night.

  However, Juliette’s astute observation could not be denied. Lord Eddington and Lord Waverly were indeed the handsomest men in attendance. And apparently the most wicked, according to her uncle’s claims. She found that information about Lord Waverly easy to believe after their sensual encounter in the bookshop last week, when she thought he wanted to kiss her. Yet if Lord Waverly’s reputation was that of a rogue, she could not help but wonder why he did not kiss her that day. Wasn’t that how rakes behaved?

  Even though he had irritated her with his condescending attitude, for some reason she had spent the remainder of the evening trying to imagine what it would be like if he had kissed her. Perhaps it was his mention of page seventy-four.

  The poem by Christopher Marlowe she had recommended to Lord Waverly that afternoon had always been her favorite. She didn’t even know why she told him about it, but the words had escaped her mouth before she could stop them. The poem was one of many she had committed to memory over the years, and its romantic meaning had always resonated deeply within her.

  Who Ever Loved, That Loved Not at First Sight?

  It lies not in our power to love or hate,

  For will in us is overruled by fate.

  When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,

  We wish that one should love, the other win;

  And one especially do we affect

  Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:

  The reason no man knows; let it suffice

  What we behold is censured by our eyes.

  Where both deliberate, the love is slight:

  Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?

  Deep within Colette’s practical and responsible being lurked a yearning romantic soul that she kept well hidden from others. As much as she understood and agreed with her uncle’s reasons that she and Juliette must marry for money, such a mercenary approach went against her warm core. She held out a slim hope that she would meet the perfect husband during this Season. A man she could love and be loved by in return. A man who would support her work in the bookshop, yet still take care of her and her family. A man who would be a partner to her in all ways. She felt in her heart that she would know this man at first sight, just as in the poem.

  Recalling that Lord Waverly had said he wanted the book as a gift for a female friend, Colette wondered who this friend was, and if he had read page seventy-four with her. But more importantly, she wondered why he mentioned the poem to her at all.

  The jingling of the bells above the front door brought her back to the present.

  “My, my,” Juliette muttered below her. “Look who the cat dragged in.”

  Colette glanced around from her perch on the ladder and froze in place.

  Lucien Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly, stood there in the shop as if her very thoughts had conjured him to appear.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Juliette whispered low, while Colette remained immobilized.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Hamilton,” he said rather lightly, as Juliette moved forward to greet him. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  Colette’s heart raced erratically and she clutched the sides of the ladder tightly in her palms. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Honestly, what am I so nervous about? More than likely he was just there to purchase books.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Waverly,” Juliette said.

  Colette detected a slight sarcastic quality in Juliette’s voice as Lucien Sinclair stopped beside the front counter. She suddenly realized he had not noticed her clinging to the ladder near the back of the shop, but she had a clear view of him. And that view was quite nice. In his long black cape and black hat, he appeared extremely tall and imposing. The misty drizzle outside had covered him in little spots of water and he seemed to shimmer. His handsome male presence demanded all of her attention.

  “Did you enjoy the Hayvenhursts’ ball, Miss Hamilton?” he asked her sister politely.

  “As a matter of fact, I had a lovely time,” Juliette said with forced pertness. “Did you?”

  “Yes.”

  “How odd,” she remarked carelessly at his response. “I had the distinct impression that you were not enjoying yourself.”

  “Why would you think something like that?” Lord Waverly questioned her, his dark brows furrowed.

  “Because, to be quite frank, you had a rather serious look on your face.” Juliette was simply being perverse, but Colette clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud at the audacity of her sister’s words.

  His eyes widened at Juliette’s bold statement, but he retaliated quickly. “I suppose seeing a young lady behave scandalously might have that effect upon me.”

  “You would not be referring to my behavior perchance, would you, Lord Waverly?” Her voice positively dripped with sweetness.

  With a disapproving glare, he countered evenly, “What do you think, Miss Hamilton?”

  “I’m sure it must be quite difficult for you to recognize it in someone else, since it’s obvious that you don’t know how to do it yourself, Lord Waverly, but I was merely enjoying myself.”

  “By flirting outrageously with every gentleman present?”

  Colette listened to their conversation with a growing sense of fascination. Lord Waverly was chastising her sister for the very same reasons she had done earlier. On the one hand she felt disheartened that Lord Waverly had noted her sister’s scandalous behavior last night, but on the other hand she was grateful to have an ally.

  “Oh, not every male, Lord Waver
ly,” Juliette stated with an arch look. “Only the handsomest ones with the most charming manners.” While clearly implying that he did not fall into that category, Juliette changed the topic with deft ease. “Did you come in here simply to escape the rain, or is there perhaps a purpose to your delightful visit today, my lord?”

  Proving himself a gentleman of restraint by not responding to Juliette’s taunt, he stated the obvious. “I am here to purchase books.”

  “Well then, Lord Waverly, how can I be of assistance to you today?” Juliette asked with false brightness.

  “I don’t believe you can help me at all, Miss Hamilton. I was hoping your sister would be available to select some books for my father. And what better place to find something interesting than at Hamilton’s Book Shoppe.”

  “Yes, interesting would be the word to describe it.” Juliette gave him a challenging look.

  Ignoring her sarcasm, he asked, “Is your sister here?”

  “All of my sisters are here. To which one were you referring, I wonder?”

  He tilted his head in acknowledgment of her little game and to indicate that he was not amused by it. “I was referring to Miss Colette Hamilton.”

  Juliette smiled triumphantly. “Well, why don’t you ask her yourself? She’s right there.” She gestured with an elegant wave of her hand to Colette.

  In surprise Lord Waverly turned to find Colette perched on the ladder, his eyes raking over her. Colette suddenly wished she were not wearing her dusty old work apron and had taken the time to fix her hair nicely that morning. She knew she looked like a disheveled mess.

  Glancing up at Colette, he called to her. “Good afternoon, Miss Hamilton.”

  “Good afternoon, Lord Waverly,” she murmured in response. Carefully she forced her shaking legs to step back down the ladder one rung at a time. Running a hand over her mane of dark hair to smooth it as best she could, Colette faced him.

  “I was just having an interesting discussion with your charming sister,” he commented, his sarcasm unmistakable.

  “Yes, I heard.” She nodded toward the ladder.

  “Apparently.” He smiled at her, softening the lines of his face and causing her heart to flutter. “Are you able to assist me today?”

  “Of course.” Trying to sound more businesslike, Colette asked, “Are you seeking a book as a gift for a special occasion?”

  “No. Unfortunately, my father is not well and confined to bed. I thought I would bring him some new reading material.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear about your father,” she murmured. She could not help but wonder what was wrong with him. “What does he like to read?”

  “Well, your father had chosen a collection of fiction books for me last time. I ended up reading them to my father and he enjoyed them. But I believe he would like something a little more historical.”

  Juliette groaned audibly and made a face of pointed disgust.

  “Don’t you like to read about history?” Lord Waverly asked her.

  Juliette shook her head adamantly, her dark black curls shaking. “I’d rather have my fingernails pulled out.”

  A faint smile tugged on the corners of Lord Waverly’s sensuous mouth, yet his expression remained serious. “That’s a rather drastic alternative, Miss Hamilton. Are you afraid that by reading history you may actually learn something that might benefit you?”

  Juliette’s face grew scornful at his condescending words. “I have read enough and learned enough to know that men have caused all the misery in this world—”

  Recognizing the tone in Juliette’s voice that meant she would soon fly into one of her little tirades, Colette quickly intervened. “Juliette is not the scholarly one in our family.”

  “That much is obvious.” Lord Waverly turned his eyes on her, and Colette had to catch her breath at the force of his green-eyed gaze. “I suppose that the title of the ‘scholarly one’ falls to you?”

  “Only by relative comparison,” she explained lightly.

  At that moment Paulette entered from the backroom of the shop, carrying an armful of her hand-painted placards. The violet dress she wore carried the evidence of the black paint she had used, and much of her long blond hair had been loosened from the thick braid down her back.

  “This has to be another sister,” Lord Waverly declared with some astonishment.

  Startled, Paulette looked up at the sound of a male voice. “Good afternoon.”

  Intensely proud of all her sisters, Colette made the introductions. “Paulette, this is Lord Waverly. We met at the Hayvenhursts’ Ball last night. This is my younger sister, Paulette Hamilton.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand to Paulette, who seemed more than awestruck by his handsome presence.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Paulette echoed in a faint whisper, awkwardly balancing wooden placards in her left hand in order to take his with her right.

  Lord Waverly smiled at Paulette’s nervousness and gallantly took the signs from her and shook her hand. He turned back to Colette once again, his expression astonished. “It’s uncanny. Do you all look this much alike?”

  Colette nodded, accustomed to this type of question when people met her sisters for the first time. “I’m afraid so. We have varying shades of hair and eye color, but we do tend to resemble each other a little.”

  “That’s an understatement.” Lord Waverly could not stop glancing between her, Juliette, and Paulette.

  “The rest of the signs are dry now,” Paulette announced excitedly, regaining her composure and pointing to the stack that Lord Waverly held.

  “What are they?” he asked, his expression curious.

  “New signs for the shop. They will help customers know where to find books,” Paulette explained, her face flushed with pride. She took a sign from him, one at a time. “This one says ‘Science’ and we shall hang it over there, where the scientific books are shelved. And this one, ‘Divinity,’ and this one is ‘Geography,’ and this one is ‘Literature,’ and this one—”

  “We all know how to read, Paulette,” Juliette interrupted in exasperation. “You needn’t recite each one for us.”

  Fifteen-year-old Paulette stuck her tongue out at Juliette. “You are merely jealous because I actually know how to spell these words and you’re lucky if you can read them.”

  “I think you’re exactly right about her, Miss Paulette. Your sister seems to dislike the very things she knows the least about,” Lord Waverly said with a slight wink. “However, I think your signs are splendid.”

  Paulette’s stunned expression turned to one of utter delight at finding an unexpected ally against her antagonistic sister in the handsome gentleman she just met. Colette laughed to herself as Juliette received the slight comeuppance she deserved. Juliette’s personality was such that she provoked most people by either her comments or behavior. Colette enjoyed seeing Lord Waverly give Juliette a little taste of her own medicine.

  Juliette rolled her eyes in disgust, keenly aware at this point that she was outnumbered. “I shall not even dignify that remark with a response, and I shall take my leave of you all now. Good day, Lord Waverly.”

  “Good day, Miss Hamilton,” he said, amusement twinkling in his green eyes.

  Juliette flounced from the bookshop with an exasperated air, exiting through the door that led to their living quarters upstairs, slamming it behind her for emphasis.

  Paulette declared to Lord Waverly, with a beaming smile, “I like you!”

  “Thank you,” he responded quietly. “I like you, too.”

  Colette noted that he seemed taken aback by Paulette’s compliment and thought she detected the hint of a blush on his clean-shaven cheeks.

  “I’ve worked on these signs all week and we’re going to hang them with this cunning green ribbon. Won’t that look wonderful?” Paulette chattered excitedly. “Colette and I are redoing the entire shop!”

  “So I’ve noticed.” Lord Waverly gave Paulette a charming smile
and then turned his attention to Colette. “Are you responsible for all these changes?” he asked her.

  Colette nodded with pride, thinking of all the late nights that she and her little sister had sorted and alphabetized every book in the store while Colette created an extensive inventory list. For as long as she could remember, her father had arranged the books in some sort of system only he understood, making it almost impossible to find a particular book without his help and guidance, which was most likely the reason he would allow no one to learn his secret system. Some books were grouped by size, some by color, and some by topic. He even had a section filled with books he considered unfairly criticized or discarded by the reading public. There was no rhyme or reason to their categorization. Her father’s disorganization was a never-ending source of frustration for Colette. With her new freedom, she was finally able to arrange the books by subject area, and then alphabetically by author. A system that made complete sense to her.

  “Yes, but Paulette helps me the most.” Colette beamed.

  “But we practically have to tie Juliette up and drag her down the stairs to get her to help us,” Paulette couldn’t help but add.

  Lord Waverly laughed, and the smile lit up his face, making him appear even more handsome. A charming dimple at the corner of his mouth softened the graveness of his face. The result was astonishing.

  “Why am I not surprised to hear that? What about the other sisters?” he asked.

  Recovering from the effect of Lucien Sinclair’s smile, Colette caught her breath and explained, “Lisette is busy taking care of our mother, who is ill, and Yvette is too young and uninterested to be of much help.”

  “So Colette and I do most everything in the bookshop on our own,” Paulette confided, obviously thrilled with her newfound friend.

  “And your uncle I met at the ball?” he asked.

  “What about him?” Colette questioned.

  “Doesn’t he have anything to do with the shop at all?”

  Uncle Randall would rather be caught dead than to be seen working in a bookshop. Colette shook her head. “No, my uncle would love nothing better than to see Hamilton’s Book Shoppe sold.”