“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest. She looked directly at him, her blue eyes so similar to Colette’s that he almost fell over. Did all those Hamilton sisters have to look so disconcertingly alike?
“I thought we should have a little chat.” Her voice was soft.
“Why do you and your sister insist upon going out without a chaperone?” He frowned at her.
Ignoring his question, she inquired instead, “Aren’t you the least bit interested in what I have to say?”
“No,” he snapped in frustration.
“Please sit down, Lucien, and listen to me.”
Struck by the unexpected pleading note in her tone, Lucien felt a sense of unease grow within his chest. Perhaps something happened to Colette. “Is Colette well?”
Juliette flashed a funny little smile. “She’s feeling a little under the weather today, but she will no doubt recover soon enough.”
Perplexed by Juliette’s attitude and at her very presence at his house, Lucien figured he had better find out what she was up to. And with Juliette, it could be anything. Seating himself on the striped damask chair nearest the blue sofa upon which she sat, he commanded, “All right, then. Enlighten me as to the purpose of your visit, Juliette.”
She took a deep breath before beginning. “I have something important to share with you, but before I reveal it, I wish to confirm a few points with you first.”
Something important? It can only be about Colette. Why else would Juliette be here? Intrigued more than he cared to admit, Lucien wordlessly motioned for her to continue.
“Is it true that you purchased the bookshop from my mother?” she asked.
So Colette had told her. Lucien wondered how the rest of her sisters felt about the news. Hopefully they were happier than Colette was when she found out. “Yes, I did,” he stated.
“May I ask why?” She arched a delicate eyebrow in his direction.
“I thought that was obvious. I purchased the shop because I wanted to help your family.”
“And Colette?” she asked in a manner meant to prompt more of a response from him.
“Yes, of course, I did it to help Colette as well.”
“I know you have feelings for her, Lucien.”
“Why are you here, Juliette?” He uttered the words edgily, not wishing to discuss his feelings for her sister when he was not sure of them himself.
Juliette became a little nervous, which was unusual for her. “Well, it seems I find myself in a situation.”
“Why does that not surprise me in the slightest?” he asked dryly. Juliette was a master at creating situations.
She ignored his barb and continued. “I know you are in love with Colette, a fact that was made even more obvious to me by the fact that you bought the shop for her. My sister tells me everything, so I know she is in love with you, but you are both too blind to admit it to each other.”
Lucien had had just about enough of the Hamilton sisters declaring they knew his feelings better than he did. First Paulette told him he was in love with Colette, and now Juliette had the audacity to come to his own home to tell him how he felt. What was it about that family? They had gotten under his skin somehow and he couldn’t shake them. His feelings for Colette alone had him in knots. Good God, he hoped Colette had not told Juliette everything they had done! “Are you quite through?”
“No.”
Juliette’s blatant answer caught him off guard. “No?” he echoed.
“No,” she said with determination, her small chin rising up. “I’m not finished yet.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you,” he flung back at her.
“You aren’t going to marry Faith Bromleigh after all, are you?”
He could not lie. “No. We agreed we did not suit.”
“Thank heaven for small favors!” Juliette exclaimed with a great sigh. “I thought you had taken leave of your senses when I heard you were interested in marrying that one. Really, Lucien, she would have bored you to an early grave—”
“Aside from annoying me, is there a point to your being here, Juliette?” he interrupted with an impatient look, very near the end of his tether with her bold statements and attitude.
“I am only trying to help you.”
“If this is your idea of helping me,” he said with a grimace, “I shudder to think what you would do if you were trying to do me harm.”
Juliette actually laughed, the light sound filling the room. “Well, you do possess a sense of humor after all. I had my doubts that you had one, Lucien. Now would you like me to tell you something that would ease your mind?”
“That would be refreshing.”
Again she smiled, tilting her head to the side. “I’m beginning to like you.”
“Juliette?” he prompted with impatience. Would the chit never get to the point?
“Very well, then.” She swallowed nervously before she spoke. “We are all quite aware of your feelings for Colette and hers for you—”
“Have we not covered this already?”
“If you would you let me finish?” she countered evenly.
“Fine.” Jesus, but Juliette Hamilton could drive a man to drink.
“And knowing as we did that you were making a terrible mistake with Faith Bromleigh, Jeffrey and I thought we could do something to help.”
His eyes narrowed and he looked at her suspiciously, a gnawing feeling of concern building within him. “To help me?”
“Yes, to help you from making a mistake that would haunt you for the rest of your life,” she said simply. “I had this brilliant little plan that if you were led to believe that Colette was going to marry Jeffrey, you would become jealous enough to ask her to marry her yourself, which is what you should have done in the first place.”
“You mean to say that you wheedled Jeffrey into lying to me last night about his interest in Colette?” Lucien could barely contain his anger enough to utter the words.
She nodded in admission of her part in the scheme. “But we didn’t expect you to flatten him.”
“So you and Jeffrey have had quite a good laugh at my expense.”
“No! Not at all!” she protested her eyes growing wide. “Honestly, Lucien, Jeffrey and I did this only with the best intentions. We just wanted you and Colette to be happy together.”
Lucien’s head fell in his hands and he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. He’d made a spectacle of himself last night and punched his best friend, for no apparent reason. No, perhaps there was a good reason. Jeffrey deserved a good wallop for tricking him so cruelly. Wearily he lifted his head and looked at Juliette. “Does Colette know about this?”
Juliette pressed her gloved hands tightly together and leaned forward, her expression quite earnest. “She has no idea, and she had no part in any of this. I swear to you, Lucien. The plan was only between Jeffrey and me. Colette had so much champagne last night, I doubt she is even aware that Jeffrey took us home. She doesn’t know anything of what Jeffrey said to you about the two of them, or that you hit him because of it. She would more than likely be angry with us both, if she did know.”
“And you think I’m not going to be angry with you?” he snapped.
“I was hoping you would understand that no harm was intended.”
“Well, you hoped wrong.”
They sat in tense silence for some minutes. Lucien was angry on many levels. At Juliette for meddling. At Jeffrey for conspiring against him. He felt betrayed and manipulated by both of them. But for all that, he could only think of Colette. It seemed he was in love with Colette, and apparently everyone knew it but him.
Finally he looked at Juliette. “So what was your purpose in telling me this now?”
She relaxed somewhat at the softness of his tone. “I wanted to apologize to you. I realize it was a mistake. And I could not bear for you to stay angry with Jeffrey when he was completely innocent in all this.”
“I would not say he was com
pletely innocent. He did go along with your scatterbrained scheme to dupe me.”
“Yes, he did,” she agreed, “but only because he knew, just as I did, that it was for the best. He truly has no interest in marrying Colette. He just said that to rile you up.”
“And sitting intimately with her on the veranda? I’m sure you had to twist his arm to do that?”
“Well, we had to set it up.” She shrugged helplessly. “You had to believe something was happening between them. We didn’t expect Colette to drink so much and confide in him.”
He had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. “What exactly did Colette confide in Jeffrey?”
Juliette became somewhat flustered, but managed to convey the crux of Jeffrey’s conversation with Colette. “Uh…that the two of you had been rather…intimate of late and—”
“Jesus!” he cried. Did the whole world need to know his private business? Now Jeffrey knew about his relationship with Colette. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised Jeffrey hadn’t punched him in the face.
“Lucien,” she said soothingly. “I realize you don’t have any brothers or sisters—”
“For which I am eternally grateful.”
Juliette continued as if he had not interrupted her. “My point is that siblings help one another. At least, that is the way it works in my family.”
“Yet I assume Colette has no idea you are here with me right now, does she?”
“Of course not.”
“So once again, you are taking matters into your own hands and meddling where you don’t belong.”
She bristled at his criticism. “I wouldn’t quite put it that way.”
Lucien rose from the chair, looming over her. “Well, I would and I have had quite enough of it. I’ll not listen to another word from you. Go home now. And keep your mouth closed and keep yourself out of my business.” He turned and pulled the long cloth-covered cord that rang a bell in the servants’ quarters.
Unfazed by his ire, Juliette stood and eyed him levelly. “What do you intend to do now?”
“That is none of your business. Go home, Juliette.” Lucien strode purposefully to the drawing room door and opened it wide, giving her a clear indication that he wished her to walk through it.
“Fine,” she muttered in a bit of a huff, stepping toward the door. She turned back to him before making her exit and added, “Just remember that Jeffrey and I were only trying to make sure you and Colette didn’t ruin your lives.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Oh, yes, you most certainly do!” she cried vehemently.
“Good afternoon, Miss Hamilton,” he said with finality.
“Good afternoon, Lord Waverly.” Her frosty tone left no doubt as to her feelings for him. A footman appeared to escort her to the front door.
With a weary sigh, he shook his head at the strange encounter with Colette’s sister. Just as he had guessed, Juliette Hamilton and Jeffrey Eddington together were a dangerous combination. Between them there existed no sense of caution or common sense. What a mess they had created!
Walking toward the window, he pulled back the long silk drapes and peered out at the cobblestone street below. Rain had begun to fall. People with umbrellas hurried by, going about their daily business, living their own lives, trying not to get drenched in the downpour. He pressed his head against the cool pane of glass streaked with raindrops, sorely tempted to put his fist through it in frustration.
Colette. Colette.
Lucien did not want to wed Faith Bromleigh and Jeffrey did not want to marry Colette. It should all be so simple. Unfortunately it was not. They said Colette loved him, but Lucien was not quite so sure.
And they all believed that he was in love with her. Was he? He had not felt this way when he was wildly in love with Virginia Warren. He felt a thousand times more for Colette than he ever had for Virginia. That should tell him something.
And it did.
His intense feelings for her told him to run as fast as he could from Colette Hamilton.
“Lucien?”
Not turning around at the sound of her now-familiar voice, Lucien stood still and did not immediately answer to the call of his name.
“Lucien, may I come in and speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course, Mother, “he murmured absently, still not facing her, his eyes riveted on the street below and the people walking by, the muffled sound of their footsteps on the wet road.
“I couldn’t help but notice Miss Hamilton leaving. She is the sister of your friend Colette, is she not? The one who reads to your father?”
“Yes.” He finally turned to look at her. His mother. Lenora stood before him, her eyes full of concern and a yearning that he could not define. Lucien had still not grown accustomed to her constant presence in his home.
“Lucien, I know I have not earned the right to be treated as your mother, but I would desperately like for us to be friends.”
“Sit down, Mother. If you wish to have a talk, we might as well be comfortable.” With a resigned sigh, he motioned for her to sit. Then he made his way to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of whisky from the crystal decanter. He took a long gulp.
“You’re drinking so early?”
He did not even acknowledge her.
Lenora took Juliette’s place on the blue sofa and Lucien reluctantly returned to his place on the chair. With his drink still in his hand, he looked at her expectantly.
Lenora wrung her hands in a nervous motion. “You were so young when I left that now I’m not sure how to resume our relationship. You are not a little boy anymore, but you are still my son.”
Good Lord, what did she want from him? Hadn’t she hurt him enough over the years? “What is it that you want, Mother?”
“I…I’m not sure entirely. I suppose I want us to at least be friendly to each other. Your father has forgiven me, and I have forgiven him, which has eased my heart greatly as well as his.” She gazed at him, her fine brows furrowed in sorrow. “But you…I don’t know how to make it up to you, Lucien. How can I atone for deserting you, my own little son, who was innocent of any wrongdoing?”
Lucien remained quiet for some time, lost in memories of his childhood. There were times he wished his mother had simply died. It would have been easier to bear had that been the case. Easier to explain to his friends. Easier to hold his head up. Then he could have cherished her memory instead of being tormented by her absence. At least he would have understood her death as something beyond his control, whereas he had taken her abandonment personally. He had believed he had been the cause of her flight, for what mother would ever leave a child she loved? “Perhaps you could explain to me why you left? As the innocent party, as you say, I think I have a right to know.”
She nodded sadly, her green eyes full of regret and pain. “Yes, I suppose I owe you that much. It’s a complicated story, and even when I look back now I don’t understand why I did what I did, or why your father did what he did for that matter. We were both foolish and stubborn…”
He waited for her to continue, anxious to know what had happened all those years ago to cause her to leave him.
A soft expression came over her face as she spoke. “I fell in love with your father the moment I met him at my coming-out ball when I was eighteen, and I just knew from the first time he held my hand that I wanted him to hold me forever. Simon was charming and handsome and full of life. We married a few months later in a very small, quiet affair. Simon and I were ridiculously happy together and we were over the moon with joy when you were born, Lucien.”
Her look of adoration moved him more than he cared to admit. “Go on.”
“Oh, how we both doted on you! You were an amazing child, Lucien, truly. So sweet and funny, and so smart. You constantly delighted us. Simon and I wanted to have more children, but I had…I could not…I lost…For years we tried but, for some reason…God chose not to bless us with another baby. It was a very stressful and heart
breaking time for me, and your father and I began to have…well…difficulties, shall we say? Because of that he turned to another woman for comfort. Unfortunately that woman was a dear friend of mine. A very dear friend. When I found out, I became incensed. In an attempt to hurt Simon I became involved with Count Acciani, who was in London visiting his sister. Antonio was young and handsome and madly in love with me, so it was easy enough to make Simon jealous with him. Naturally Simon was furious when he discovered me kissing Antonio one night. We fought bitterly. Terribly. Oh, this is not easy to explain, Lucien.”
His mother paused for a moment, unsure if she should continue. With her cheeks flushed pink, her embarrassment was evident.
“Go on, Mother. It’s all right,” he urged her, fascinated by this glimpse into his parents’ past.
“Well…Then a small miracle happened, and I discovered I was going to have a baby. I suppose I had made your father a little too jealous, because he refused to believe the child was his, even though it was. I knew without a doubt it was Simon’s baby, for Antonio and I had not…we had only kissed…well…you understand how I could know such a thing. Simon, in a rage, did not believe me and had me thrown out of Devon House. He refused to let me see you. Oh, what a terrible scene that was!”
Lucien placed the unfinished glass of whisky on the table and stared speechlessly at his mother. He tried to recall when she left, but could not remember a particular night or event. She was just simply gone one day, like the sun disappearing behind a dark cloud. He felt oddly conflicted at her story. Not knowing what to expect when she began her tale, he was certain he had not expected this.
Her voice grew low. “I had no money and nowhere to go, since my own parents had passed away, and your father had turned all our friends against me, painting me in the worst light. Who else could I turn to but the other man who loved me? Antonio, dear sweet Antonio, took me in when no one else would. I was carrying my husband’s child, but no one believed me. Except of course, for Antonio, because he knew the truth. He knew, just as well as I, that it was Simon’s child. He even attempted to tell Simon, but Simon would not believe him. So we fled to Italy. I had no other option. It tore my heart out to leave you and your father, but I had no choice. He would not let me back. I wrote you both, letter after letter, for years. But Simon never responded to me, and obviously he did not allow you to see any of my letters to you. I suppose it was easier for him to let you believe your mother was a heartless creature rather than to explain his own jealous rage and stubborn pride. Oh, Lucien, you have no idea how I cried every day, endless tears, over missing you.”
When His Kiss Is Wicked Page 27