When His Kiss Is Wicked

by Kaitlin O'Riley

  “I cannot even imagine not having siblings,” Lisette marveled.

  “I imagine it all the time,” Juliette commented dryly.

  “Oh, you do not!” the other four cried in protest at her remark, causing Lucien to laugh at their demonstration of family togetherness.

  “All right, all right,” Juliette conceded, placing her hands up in defeat. “Having four sisters is the joy of my life. Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

  “Yes, let’s,” Colette agreed readily, but her eyes were merry.

  After a pause, Lucien volunteered a question. “Mrs. Hamilton, have you named all your daughters with the ‘-ette’ ending on purpose?”

  Genevieve smiled lightly. “Oui, mais bien sûr, I did not know at the time that I would have five daughters. Although once I started, how could I not continue, eh, monsieur? I just wanted them to have something in common to unite them. I gave them French names, but their middle names are English.”

  Lucien turned to Colette with an inquiring look.

  She responded, “Elizabeth.”

  Juliette said, “Sara.”

  Lisette stated, “Annabelle.”

  Paulette said, “Victoria.”

  With a proud little nod Yvette added, “Katherine.”

  “Well, they are all lovely names for very lovely ladies,” Lucien said, enchanted by this charming little family of women. Something about them touched him.

  “Oh, Lisette, tell what happened to you today!” Yvette squealed with excitement. “We’ve been waiting for everyone to come home to share the news.”

  Lisette blushed prettily and shook her head with a shy glance. “No, Yvette, not now, we have an important guest.”

  “He’s not a guest, he’s just a man!” Juliette declared with a challenging look toward Lucien. “Tell us what happened.”

  “Tu peux nous le dire. Tout ira bien, ma chérie. You can tell us, Lisette. It will be fine,” Genevieve encouraged her with a faint smile.

  Lisette again protested, but before she could utter a single word, Yvette called out, “Henry Brooks finally asked her to go to the Willoughbys’ tea dance next week!”

  Amid a chorus of squeals of excitement and shouts of congratulations, Lucien looked to Colette. “I gather this was a long-anticipated occurrence?”

  “Yes.” Colette nodded, the happiness for her sister evident in her expression. “We’ve all known Henry Brooks for years, and he and Lisette have had feelings for each other for almost as long. We’ve just been waiting for Henry to make the first move. And it seems he finally has!”

  “I see.” Being privy to a scene of intimate family life he had never experienced before, Lucien felt he belonged. The feeling of being part of a loving family was so unfamiliar to him, yet he found himself irresistibly drawn in by them, fascinated. As the commotion died down, Lucien offered his best wishes to Lisette. “Henry Brooks is an extremely lucky fellow.”

  “Thank you, Lord Waverly,” she said with a shy glance in his direction.

  “I received a letter from Christina Dunbar today,” Juliette said with more enthusiasm than Lucien had witnessed before in her. “She arrived in the United States and absolutely adores living there. She said that New York City is the most exciting place in the world, and that I would love it as much as she does.”

  “Christina is a dear friend of Juliette’s,” Colette explained for Lucien’s benefit. “She’s newly married to an American gentleman.”

  Juliette’s eyes sparkled. “She invited me to visit her.”

  “You are not going to New York, Juliette!” Genevieve exclaimed with a vehement shake of her gray-haired head.

  “Why can’t I?” Juliette challenged her mother, her face full of youthful determination. “It’s not as if I’m asking to go to Africa or India, for heaven’s sake!”

  Genevieve gave her daughter a certain look that said in no uncertain terms that she would not engage in such a discussion with her at that moment.

  Ignoring her mother, Juliette immediately turned to Lucien. “Have you ever been to New York, Lord Waverly?”

  “No, I haven’t, but I too have a good friend who lives there.”

  “I shall go there someday,” Juliette declared, her eyes flashing, defying her mother.

  “And just how do you think you are going to manage that?” Paulette scoffed at her.

  “I don’t know yet, but mark my words, one day I will!” Juliette’s statement left them all quiet.

  Attempting to lighten the mood, Colette asked, “Did anything else interesting happen to anyone today?”

  “No,” Paulette said slowly with a pointed look at Colette, “but Uncle Randall stopped by earlier.”

  Lucien knew he did not imagine the pall that immediately fell over the table at the mention of their uncle. Genevieve’s face blanched, if it were possible for her to become any paler. Lucien had only met Randall Hamilton on a few occasions and had no particular liking for the fellow. Apparently, neither did his five nieces.

  “What did Uncle Randall want, Maman?” Colette asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

  “J’ai très mal à la tête. I have a terrible headache,” Genevieve whispered, her voice thin. “Lisette, help me to my room. Excusez moi, s’il vous plaît.”

  “Why didn’t you mention Uncle Randall was here?” Colette persisted in asking. “What did he want?”

  “He…he wanted to update me on your progress this Season,” Genevieve managed to say as Lisette helped her to her feet. She leaned on her cane and began to shuffle from the table.

  Colette glanced hurriedly at Juliette, then back at her mother. “But what did he say?”

  “He said that you are both misbehaving,” Genevieve admonished with more vigor than Lucien had thought her capable of. “Tu ne te trouveras jamais de mari à ce train là. Je ne veux pas en parler avec toi maintenant. You need to listen to your aunt Cecilia and uncle Randall’s advice. I shall speak no more of it in front of our guest. Bonsoir, Monsieur le Comte. Good evening.”

  Both Colette and Juliette stared mutely at their plates, their heads down. Lucien would have laughed at seeing Juliette so chastised, but he did not care for the worried and anxious expression on Colette’s face. He rose to his feet to assist Lisette with her mother. Genevieve gratefully accepted his help, thanking him, as they both escorted her to her bedroom.

  He returned to the dining room and the girls still sat speechless. Lisette followed close behind him.

  “I suppose I should be going now,” Lucien said to the subdued group still seated at the table.

  “Oh, no, Lord Waverly, I’ve made a lovely apple tart for dessert! You must stay and have some!” Lisette pleaded. “We would be terribly disappointed if you left now.”

  “Yes, please stay!” Yvette and Paulette echoed.

  Juliette and Colette remained noticeably silent.

  Lucien glanced to Colette in question. She nodded, wishing for him to remain, and he felt oddly relieved that she wanted him there. Without a word, he returned to his place at the table. Lisette abruptly began clearing plates from the table and exited to the kitchen. Yvette followed her lead and began to help.

  “Did you hear that Charles Dickens died yesterday?” Paulette blurted out.

  “Yes,” Lucien said with interest. “I just read it in today’s Times.”

  “What terrible news,” Colette murmured at the loss of the prolific writer.

  “We must place all his books on the front shelf, Colette, because everyone will want to buy one now,” Paulette suggested.

  “That’s a brilliant idea, Paulette!” Colette exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of selling more books.

  Within moments the conversation grew animated and the mood lightened.

  By the time Lucien finished his delicious apple tart, he had confirmed that although the Hamilton sisters looked alike, they were decidedly different in personality. Sweet Lisette possessed a caring and unassuming manner, but seemed to be the one foremost to com
fort the others. Paulette had a thoughtful and intelligent mind and a kind heart. Little Yvette was high-spirited and quick to laugh. Juliette, of course, rankled him endlessly, but he had to admit that she had her finer qualities. Even Genevieve Hamilton could be quite charming. The sisters were all endearing and amusing, and somehow they seemed to win him over with their candid honesty and good humor, while their strong sense of camaraderie and devotion to each other fascinated him. The only relationships Lucien had really experienced with women were with his mother, with Lady Virginia Warren, and with the type of pleasure seeking woman who shared his bed.

  Never had he met women like the Hamiltons.

  And then there was Colette…

  Above all she intrigued him. He noted how she cared for her younger sisters. How she patiently tended to her ailing mother. How she worked in the bookshop to support the family. With their father deceased and their mother obviously incapable, Colette, in essence, had taken over the role of parent to the other girls. They all looked to her to make their decisions. But at twenty years old, Colette should be enjoying parties and balls and being courted by suitors.

  Ah, but she was being forced to find a husband, wasn’t she?

  As much as he hated the idea, it would probably be for the best. A husband would take her away from toiling in the bookshop and would look after her properly. But then what of her sisters if Colette married? He watched the four pretty girls laughing as they cleared the dishes. Any man who took Colette as a wife would undoubtedly undertake the responsibility of her sisters. And their ill mother as well.

  And there was her uncle, parading Colette before a lot of ridiculous old fools. None of the men he had seen her dance with were half good enough for her. He made up his mind then and there to introduce Colette, and Juliette as well, to more suitable candidates for a husband.

  As he took his leave from the charming Hamilton sisters, Lucien realized he had felt more relaxed and more at home with this little family that evening than he had in a very long time. In fact, he could not recall feeling that way ever, at least not as an adult. Colette walked him to the front door of the house and down the front staircase, which was a different entrance than through the bookshop.

  When they reached the bottom landing, he said, “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

  “Thank you for being patient with my sisters,” Colette said, tilting her head up to look at him. “And I apologize for the awkwardness with my mother.”

  “There is no need for apologies.” He paused before asking, “Is everything well with your uncle? I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed very worried that he had come to see your mother.”

  She hesitated slightly. “As you have seen, my uncle does not always have my best interests at heart when choosing a prospective husband, and I was just worried that he would try to convince my mother to persuade me to marry someone I had already refused to…”

  “I understand now,” Lucien whispered. “You need not explain.”

  She gave a half-smile as she gazed up at him. “You are very chivalrous.”

  “No. No, I am not,” he said honestly, thinking that at the moment his thoughts of her were far from chivalrous. “Remember what I said to you, Colette. Make sure you choose a husband you want. Don’t let your uncle choose for you.”

  “Thank you, Lucien,” she whispered. She nodded obediently and looked up at him in expectation.

  The sound of his name on her soft lips and her beautiful face lifted to his in anticipation of a kiss sent a flood of desire coursing through him that was almost unbearable. Lucien craved nothing more than to pull her against him and place his mouth over hers, branding her in a searing kiss. He ached to push her up against the wall, right there in that tiny little vestibule, lift the skirt of her gown, and drive himself into her over and over again. God, but he wanted her. Unable to stop himself, he touched her cheek softly, tracing the line of her jaw to her chin. Knowing without a doubt that even one kiss, the lightest kiss, would push him over the edge of a dangerous precipice from which there could be no return, Lucien took a step back from her, his body trembling with torment.

  “Good night, Colette,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and edgy with unquenched desire.

  As he walked home that June evening, he wished the night air were much cooler.

  Chapter Eleven

  Pillow Talk

  Exhausted, Colette snuggled under the pale yellow gingham quilt that covered her bed and closed her eyes tightly, but it was no use. She kept reliving the evening with Lucien Sinclair and the kisses that had almost happened.

  Juliette entered the bedroom they had shared their whole life. It was a cozy room for all that it was small. Pale yellow wallpaper dotted with sprays of colorful flowers lined the walls, and a well-worn patterned carpet in shades of green and gold covered the floor. Four gilt-framed scenes of tranquil country life hung from ribbon above the mantel and a small writing desk stood in the corner. Juliette dimmed the light that rested on the nightstand between their two beds.

  “Yvette needs new shoes,” Juliette said, climbing into her own bed. “She’s completely outgrown the ones we just bought her.”

  Colette yawned. “I know. I already left money for Lisette to take her for a new pair tomorrow. Paulette will simply have to stay with Mother again while they are out, because I’ll need you in the shop with me tomorrow to help with the first delivery of the stationery.”

  The empty silence declared Juliette’s ambivalent feelings of having to help in the shop. She would never shirk her share of responsibilities, but she made it very clear that she would rather be doing anything else but working in the bookshop.

  “What do you think of Lisette and Henry Brooks?” Colette asked.

  “I think Lisette will marry him eventually, but I don’t think she’ll be happy with him in the end.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It’s just a feeling I have. Henry is a nice enough man, but not quite right for her. But Lisette, just like Mother did in marrying Father, will settle for him because she is afraid to try for something better, and she will end up miserable. Which is something I for one don’t ever intend to do.”

  No, Juliette would never settle for less than exactly what she wanted. She would never change or try to be something she wasn’t to please a man. Which made Colette wonder about herself. In attempting to marry to save her family and the bookshop, would she too be settling? How far would she go to save them? Up till now she had refused her uncle’s choices because she had found his choice of men unacceptable, indeed quite repulsive. But how long could that go on? She had to marry at some point.

  “Why do you think Lord Waverly stayed for dinner?” Juliette asked in the darkness.

  “Because he was hungry?” Colette answered with her eyes still closed.

  A down-filled pillow landed smack on her face. Sputtering indignantly, she sat up and hurled it back at Juliette. “Go to sleep already!”

  Catching the pillow, Juliette laughed before asking again, “Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why he was here tonight?”

  “No,” she pronounced firmly. Colette did not want to think about it anymore. In fact, her head throbbed from puzzling over Lucien’s actions and wondering at his motivations.

  “There is something you’re not telling me about Lord Disapproves of Everything Fun, isn’t there, Colette?”

  “No,” she murmured guiltily, hiding her face in the blankets.

  “Yes, there is. I know it. He suddenly shows up at the shop and joins us all for dinner for no reason? And we know it’s certainly not me he is interested in!” Juliette paused thoughtfully before asking, “Has he kissed you?”

  “What makes you think such a thing?” Colette attempted to sound outraged by her sister’s question.

  “He looks at you like he wants to kiss you. And your face was flushed all night.”

  “Is it that obvious?” Colette whispered, grateful for the dark.

  “So you did
kiss him! I knew it!” Juliette declared triumphantly, and Colette knew she was smiling. “When did it happen?”

  “That night in Lord Hutton’s garden.”

  “Tell me everything,” Juliette demanded.

  Relieved to finally share the experience, Colette confessed all.

  Upon hearing the details of Colette’s romantic encounter with Lord Waverly, Juliette was almost speechless. “Aside from being appalled that Baron Sheffield thought he could have his way with you, I am very impressed with Lord Waverly’s rescue techniques.”

  Colette said nothing.

  After a tense silence, Juliette asked, “Did you like kissing him?”

  “Yes,” she replied with an anguished sigh. “And, Juliette, I cannot forget about it, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “About what?”

  “That I liked kissing him and I want him to kiss me again. He wanted to kiss me tonight, I’m sure of it.”

  “Did he?”

  “No, but we came close a few times.” Achingly close.

  “What do you think it means?”

  “I haven’t a clue.” Whatever was happening between her and Lucien left her very confused. Colette had begun to anticipate his unexpected visits, found herself yearning to talk to him, and felt a desire to be near him. He seemed to care for her, seemed interested in her life and her family, and from the way he kissed her, he obviously found her attractive, but she did not know how he felt about her.

  Juliette said with a superior air, “I’ve heard things about him.”

  “Don’t tease me, Juliette. What do you know?” Colette had heard rumors of Lucien’s wild ways, but the stories seemed incongruous to the Lucien she knew. Well, except that night in the garden. Once again, nothing about Lucien made any sense.

  “Well, I’ve heard that he has avoided marriage for years.” Juliette seemed reluctant to share this news. She sighed heavily. “But I think you should know that now he wants to settle down and marry before his father passes away.”