A Gentleman's Kiss

by Kimberley Comeaux

  Claudia gasped, and Cameron regretted his words. How could a woman twist him inside out as this one could? He barely knew her, and he was already torn between wringing her neck and kissing her again.

  “I think it’s time you took me home,” she said stiffly, setting the figurine back on his desk. Without looking at him again, she marched toward the door.

  Cameron opened his mouth to apologize but knew it probably would do no good. Instead he grabbed the cloak his butler had brought down for her. Claudia allowed him to put it around her but said nothing else to him on the way to her grandfather’s house.

  Once they’d arrived, he helped her out of the carriage, despite her efforts to ignore him. “Good night, my lady,” he said softly as he walked her to the door.

  He thought he would get no response, but apparently good breeding wouldn’t allow her to be that rude.

  She stopped and said in a crisp tone, “Good-bye.”

  He smiled then, already looking forward to the next time their paths would cross.

  Four

  Claudia slipped undetected into her grandfather’s house and hid the ruined gown until she could dispose of it, then settled down into her soft bed for the night. She longed for sleep to overtake her so she could forget both the man who had attacked her and the man who had saved her.

  But the latter was not easily forgotten, so sleep did not come.

  Of all the eligible men in London, why did she have to feel such an attraction to the Earl of Kinclary?

  “Cameron,” she whispered aloud. It seemed natural and right to speak it. It also seemed natural for him to kiss her—and for her to want to kiss him back.

  She groaned from the conflicting emotions, then rolled over and hugged her pillow. She reminded herself that the man had yelled at her and hadn’t actually explained why he was talking to Aurora so long. Then there were his words to her, echoing her heart’s desire to do God’s work. Was it a lie, or was he being honest about his feelings?

  Claudia was aware she was considered attractive by gentlemen’s standards, but she was not insensible to the real reason so many wanted to marry her.

  Her grandfather was wealthy and titled. Someday she and her future children would be also.

  Claudia frowned as she absently pulled at the lace trim on her silk pillowcase. Cameron was already titled and richer than her grandfather.

  Perhaps he truly liked her.

  She sighed and flipped back over to stare at the ceiling. She had to remember what he’d said in their last conversation. He believed her to be difficult and moody. If the earl had liked her before, he probably had reconsidered it after her display of bad temper.

  Which was just as well, she told herself. After all that had transpired between them, she could never like someone who was so overbearing and arrogant as Lord Kinclary.

  But as she drifted off to sleep she knew she did like him.

  Very much.

  In fact that thought was still ringing in her head when she awoke the next morning. Claudia was so wrapped up in her musings that she didn’t notice her grandfather sitting at the breakfast table with her aunt, giving her his most severe glare.

  Claudia took a plate and began to fill it from the buffet, scarcely noticing what she was spooning up. Recalling Cameron’s kiss, she slipped into her chair and took a bite of her poached egg.

  As the taste hit her tongue, she glanced down at her plate in horror and wondered why she would ever choose poached eggs since she hated them.

  “Claudia!” her grandfather said sharply.

  She looked up at once and saw both her relatives eyeing her strangely.

  “Yes? What is it?” She hurriedly swallowed the awful egg and took a sip of milk.

  Her grandfather narrowed his eyes, causing his bushy grey brows to join in one line. “I’ve called your name thrice—yet you do not respond. What is the matter with you this morning?”

  “I’m just”—she tried to think of a plausible excuse—“I’m just a bit out of sorts this morning.”

  He pressed his lips together. A sound came forth much like a growl. “And could this be because you left the ball without your aunt last night—and without the aide of my carriage?” His voice grew louder as he neared the end of his sentence.

  Claudia cleared her throat. “Well, Grandfather, I was not enjoying myself at the ball, and a”—she nearly choked on the word—“friend took me home.”

  “You were not there to enjoy yourself, girl. You were there to find a husband!” He slammed his fist on the table, causing her aunt to drop her fork with a loud clatter.

  “Yes, Grandfather,” she murmured. She had heard his thoughts on the subject before.

  “And why could you not have taken the time to tell your aunt where you were going?”

  Claudia glanced at her aunt who gave her an anxious look while discreetly shaking her head. It was, of course, unnecessary. Claudia would never tell her grandfather that Aunt Julia was asleep within minutes of arriving at the ball.

  “Aunt Julia was. . .occupied, Grandfather. I saw no reason to disturb her.”

  Her grandfather narrowed his eyes again. “You are not playing me for a fool, are you, Claudia? You would not be consorting with someone I would not approve of, would you?”

  Claudia sighed. She knew he asked only because of what her own father had done. “No, I am not. I’m not consorting with anyone, so you can rest easy.” She took a bite of toast and nearly choked when his hand hit the table again.

  “Well, why not? There must be a bevy of young gentlemen who would marry you, girl. Can’t you choose one of them?” he bellowed.

  Claudia set down her milk, which she’d gulped to wash down the toast. “It’s not that easy. I haven’t met anyone I could love enough to marry.”

  “Can’t you settle for liking them?” he grumbled, pushing his plate back and folding his arms.

  “No, I cannot.”

  The two of them stared at one another as if they were two duelers on the field ready to spar.

  Suddenly Aunt Julia, who rarely said anything to her brother, laughed. “My dear Moreland, she is exactly like you! I doubt you’ll win many battles with this one.” She stood and walked out of the room.

  Claudia’s grandfather turned back to her. “She underestimates me,” he stated grimly. “I will see you married. If you cannot find a good Englishman, then we shall travel to Scotland to discover if any of them are to your liking.”

  Claudia gasped. “What if none of them appeals to me? Will you ship me off to France then?”

  Lord Moreland frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would rather you marry an American than a Frenchman!” He stood up from the table and shook his finger at her. “Heed my warning, young lady. Find a husband and be quick about it! I’m not getting any younger, you know, and a nobleman likes to know if his line will be carried on.” His voice sounded thinner as he spoke, and he punctuated it with a cough.

  Once he had turned and was walking out of the room, Claudia rolled her eyes and slumped down in her chair. If threats didn’t work, he always played his “old and feeble” routine.

  Her thoughts turned to her other grandfather. Was he as gruff as Grandfather Moreland, or was he gentle and loving? She longed to find him and wished someone could give her a clue as to where she might look.

  Claudia tapped her fingers on the lace tablecloth until she hit upon an idea. She was to meet with her vicar, Reverend Holloway, this morning to discuss what charities she might be a part of. Perhaps he would know something about her mother’s father, George Canterbury.

  An hour later she was knocking on the vicar’s door. His wife, a petite woman with snow-white hair, greeted her and showed her into the parlor to wait for the vicar.

  While she waited, Claudia walked about the room and examined the
titles of his books with interest. She was not an avid reader of fiction but often enjoyed reading about biblical history and commentaries on various religious issues.

  She heard a sound from the door, and when she turned, the very tall Reverend Holloway walked in. Just behind him Mrs. Holloway brought in a fresh pot of tea and dainty cups. Claudia could not help but smile when she noticed how much of a height difference there was between them. And, too, she didn’t miss the loving smile they shared as he took the tray from her and put it on the table.

  Would she ever get the chance to find such a love as these two obviously shared?

  Once she had poured the tea, Mrs. Holloway left the room, and Claudia began to explain how she wanted to be a part of one of the church’s charities.

  “So you want to make a donation?” the vicar asked when she finished.

  “Oh, no! I want to take part and do some work myself,” she assured him.

  Instead of being happy she wanted to help, he hesitated. “Does your. . .uh. . .grandfather know you want to do this?” he asked carefully.

  Claudia sighed. Did everyone know how snobbish her grandfather could be? “Well, no. But I want to do this whether he knows or not. I promise that if he finds out, you will shoulder none of the blame.”

  He hesitated again. “Yes, my lady, but perhaps you don’t realize the ways of the ton in this matter. They give their money and throw charity auctions to help the poor, but they don’t actually interact with the poor. Do you understand?”

  Claudia nodded. “Oh, I do know that, Reverend Holloway. And I’m well aware I might be frowned upon, but I feel that God wants me to do this. Do you understand?”

  The older gentleman smiled at her. “I do. You see, I don’t encounter this type of request every day. Let me check and see what charity could use your help, and I will send a note for you as soon as I know something.”

  Claudia stood and held out her hand. “Thank you so much, Reverend.”

  He stood also and shook her hand. “You’re most welcome, my lady.”

  She started to walk out of the room when she remembered what else she wanted to discuss with him. “Oh, by the way, Reverend, I am trying to locate my mother’s father, George Canterbury, but have not been able to find out where he might be. Would you happen to know him?”

  Reverend Holloway scratched his chin then nodded his head. “I have heard of a Canterbury, but I don’t recall where.” He paused again then shook his head. “He may be connected with one of the charities along the riverfront. Quite a few feed the poor and administer other helps. Most of them are worthwhile charities, but I cannot refer you to any. The riverfront is a dangerous place for a young woman,” he added, but Claudia was too excited by his first statement to worry about his warning.

  “Oh, thank you, Reverend. Perhaps the one you are thinking of is a relative who can further my search,” she said eagerly. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you. Good day,” she said quickly then turned and hurried out of the room, not even giving the vicar the chance to say good-bye.

  Once she was outside she began walking the short distance to her grandfather’s house. Claudia’s mind was racing, contemplating how she could get down to the riverfront without being noticed.

  Surely the waterfront couldn’t be that bad, could it? she wondered. There had to be a way of going down there without being noticed as a gentlewoman and remain safe.

  She’d have to rent a hack, of course, for her grandfather would never allow her to take his carriage down there and would lock her up if he thought she was planning to go there herself.

  And she most certainly needed a disguise. If only she could think of a way to conceal her identity. . . .

  A young boy sitting by the road in ragged clothes caught her attention—and gave her an idea.

  ❧

  That same afternoon on the waterfront Cameron exited the large warehouse and walked to his two-wheeled buggy, whistling a happy tune. Everything he’d been working toward had finally come together.

  His shelter for women and their children was birthed upon his arrival back in London. He’d spoken to several clergymen, and they’d told him their biggest problem was women who had lost their husbands or fathers in the war or by some other calamity. They often had no income and no way to support their children. A few churches tried to help them, but the need was so great and their funds often not enough.

  So Cameron, along with his butler, George, who acted as the front man for the charity, purchased one of the old warehouses along the wharf and made it habitable. The bulk of his money came from his own pockets, but he’d also managed to procure donations from his closest friends—the ones who would keep his identity private.

  Cameron wished he could be more open about his project, but he knew his parents—namely his mother—would oppose it vehemently, declaring it might hurt her standings within the ton. Society might understand his donating money, but they would not accept that he worked at the shelter, overseeing the whole operation.

  So, for the time being, he worked discreetly. He let George be the one who spoke to employers about work for the ladies and arranged for food and material to be donated to them from local markets.

  Cameron drove along in his buggy and scanned the people who were walking, as he always did, in case he saw women or children who might need the shelter’s services. He had come to one of the many public houses along the wharf when he spotted a youth stumbling along the path, apparently lost.

  Cameron slowed the buggy. Something about the boy troubled him, and yet he didn’t know what. His tattered and soiled clothes seemed to swallow his thin frame, and a dirty cap was pulled down so low it almost covered his eyes. Cameron wondered if he was hungry and decided he must try to get him to the shelter. “Hey! You there! Boy!” he called out, and the youth kept walking.

  But then he turned and looked up. Cameron’s heart nearly stopped when he recognized those very blue eyes.

  Five

  Frozen with disbelief, Claudia found herself staring into the eyes of Cameron Montbatten. What was he doing in this part of town?

  And why was he staring at her so intently?

  He pulled back on the reins and climbed down from the buggy. Claudia didn’t know if he were coming after her or not, but she wasn’t going to wait around to find out.

  She pulled her hat even further down on her face and began to run through the sailors, beggars, and general riff-raff that occupied the wharf. It has been a wasted trip anyway, she thought as she ducked in between two old wooden buildings. No one had seemed to know anything about a shelter or her grandfather. Most of the people would not even speak to her, thinking her a beggar or thief.

  Claudia’s breathing was heavy as she peeked around the corner to see if Cameron was still following her. She let out a sigh of relief when she scanned the area and saw no sign of him. With her hand over her chest she turned back and, closing her eyes, slumped against the building.

  “What are you doing down here?” a man’s voice hissed.

  Startled, she opened her eyes to find Cameron standing inches away from her and looking angrier than he ever had, even after she’d been mugged.

  Her first thought was to run; but when she started to, he only caught her from behind and brought her back up against his chest. “Do I know you, sir?” she asked in a low, muffled voice.

  He let out a sound of frustration then swung her around. While gripping her arm with his hand he cupped her chin and brought it up to meet his fiery gaze. “If I didn’t recognize those eyes of yours, that American accent would have given you away,” he said, his voice barely controlled. “Now come with me.”

  Cameron all but dragged Claudia to his buggy and helped her up none-too-gently. She tried to scramble out the other side, but he was much too quick for her. “Claudia, I promise you that my patience is at an end.
If you try to get away from me, I’ll take you to your grandfather and tell him where I found you.”

  Cameron snapped the reins with a jerk, and the horses took off, causing Claudia to fall back on the seat. He deftly turned the buggy around in the street and headed back in the opposite direction.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, still trying to figure out how this could have happened. Her plan had been so perfect, she thought. She had borrowed clothes from her stable boy and streaked her face with dirt so that not even her own servants had recognized her when she passed them on the street.

  She paused from her wonderings when she realized Cameron hadn’t answered her. She opened her mouth to ask again but then noticed the muscles tensing in his jaw, so she closed it again and sat still.

  The question still burned in her mind—what had he been doing in this wretched part of London?

  When the buggy jerked to a stop in front of a large warehouse, Claudia’s confusion only increased. Again she found his hand wrapped around her arm like a manacle.

  “Come with me, and not a sound do I want to hear from you,” he hissed as he pulled her up the steps and into the building.

  Claudia wasn’t sure what she expected, but twenty or so women and children sitting around a table eating was not it.

  What is this place? she wondered, as he pulled her hurriedly through the large room and down the hall to an office.

  She’d barely had time to glance at the décor of the office when he started. “In all my days I have not met another woman as troublesome and difficult as you! Nor have I met a highborn lady so bound to ruin her reputation or worse—get herself killed!” He shook his head and stared at her as if she’d suddenly sprouted horns. “What possible reason could you have for risking your life and coming to this part of town? Are you mad? Or do you just not care about your own well-being?”

  She bristled at his condescending tone and words. “I’m neither mad nor uncaring. I simply had something I needed to see about down here—that’s all,” she snapped back and took her hat off to scratch her itching head. “But let me ask you the same question, Lord Kinclary. What are you doing down here in this part of town, and what is this place?” she asked, pointing her finger at him.