by Jo Beverley
“Most definitely.” He nodded. “And he was not pleased.”
“Then now is your chance. I just saw them saying their farewells, and their daughter was with them.”
Although she felt rather woozy, Colette still grasped that something odd was going on. They were referring to someone she should know. “Whom are you talking about?”
Ignoring her question, Jeffrey stood. “You’ll excuse me, ladies, won’t you?”
“Of course we will,” Juliette said, taking his seat at the table with Colette. “I’ll stay here with my sister.” She gave Jeffrey a disapproving glance. “And make her drink some water.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Green-Eyed Monster
Lucien intended to leave the Hayvenhursts’ house after he bid the Bromleighs farewell, but first he needed to find out what Jeffrey had been up to, sitting so intimately with Colette on the veranda. The pair had looked quite cozy together, sitting alone in the shadows, whispering and drinking champagne. Almost romantic. Ignoring the strange pang of longing that gripped him, Lucien stood in the hallway and scanned the packed ballroom for Jeffrey and Colette, hoping they had finally come inside.
After last night in the bookshop Lucien could not get Colette out of his mind, nor had he recovered from the event. Tonight, she looked more beautiful than ever. He wished he had been the one sitting with her at that little table in the candlelight. He wished he could waltz with her, holding her body close to his as everyone watched. He wished he could escort her home, right into his bed, and make love to her all night long.
He had made a mistake with Faith Bromleigh. He could barely summon the wherewithal to engage her in conversation. Her somber expressions and calm manner, which at one time seemed to be her greatest asset, now irritated him beyond belief. He could not continue his courtship of her and she knew it, too. Faith had even stated as much to him earlier in the evening. A life with her might be calm and uneventful, but he doubted he would ever be happy with her.
Colette made him happy.
The errant thought stopped him dead in his tracks. Colette?
That woman had more of a hold on him than he realized. And it terrified him. He had to get Colette out of his system. But how?
His mind spun with vivid images of her. Colette’s beautiful blue eyes. Colette smiling at him. Colette atop a ladder in the bookshop, laughing. Colette teasing her sisters. Colette reading to his father. Colette kissing him. Colette naked in his bed. Colette unbuttoning his shirt. Colette slapping his face. Colette whispering with Jeffrey.
He ought to warn Jeffrey away from her. She was too fragile right now. Lucien had already hurt her enough, and Jeffrey would only wound her even more with his charmingly careless ways. Jeffrey should not be flirting with her.
He decided to make his way back out to the veranda to see what the two of them were up to, when Lord and Lady Maywood, an older couple, stopped him to say hello.
“How is your poor father?” Lady Maywood asked, her sharp gray eyes inquisitive.
Lucien had answered this question at least a dozen times already that evening. He knew everyone was really asking about his mother. Lenora Sinclair’s unexpected return to Devon House had caused quite an uproar. Tongues had been wagging ever since the news got out, although everyone at Devon House had attempted to keep it as quiet as possible for as long as they could. But typically, word had somehow managed to spread, and ever since then calls were made to the house for the first time in months as the curious and gossipy society matrons attempted to inveigle their way in to see the infamous Lenora Sinclair. They had been steadfastly turned away by an impervious Granger. The Marquis and Marchioness of Stancliff were not accepting calls.
Lucien had known Lady Maywood since he was a young lad and he had never particularly cared for her or her husband, finding them both to be overbearing and pretentious. As he had done all evening he responded to them coolly but politely, not wishing to invite more scandal on the family name. “My father is much improved, thank you.” His eyes continued to scan the room for Colette.
“I’m so glad to hear it,” Lady Maywood uttered in a tone that belied her words. She then asked pointedly, “And how is your mother, Lord Waverly?”
Lucien had been expecting this question, too. “My mother is quite well, thank you.”
“Lenora Sinclair! What a shock to have her return after, what has it been? Fifteen or so years since she ran off?”
Lady Maywood’s malicious and vindictive undertone suddenly enraged Lucien. He had spent his life in the shadow of his mother’s notorious abandonment and was now expected to live down her equally scandalous homecoming. He had had enough.
“There is no need for you to feign concern regarding my family’s well-being, Lady Maywood,” he said pointedly. “So go ahead and spread your vicious rumors and gossip. I’m honored my family could provide you with enough scandalous fodder to keep you busy over the years. With any luck, there will be more to come. Good evening.”
Satisfied with the expression of complete astonishment on her pinched face, Lucien stalked off toward the veranda, leaving a flabbergasted Lord and Lady Maywood utterly speechless.
Feeling somewhat lighter than he had a few moments earlier, Lucien finally caught up with Jeffrey at the entrance to the veranda. He stepped outside and Jeffrey joined him.
“Where’s Colette?” Lucien demanded, his voice sounding edgier than he intended.
“She’s with her sister.” Jeffrey motioned a short distance away to the little table where Colette and Juliette sat together on the veranda.
Lucien then saw her, just as Jeffrey said. She and Juliette had their heads close together and were whispering. He felt relieved that she was no longer alone with his best friend.
Jeffrey casually leaned his shoulder against the brick wall of the townhouse, folding his arms across his chest, and countered with a question of his own. “Where is your future bride?”
“She has left with her parents already,” Lucien responded hurriedly, dismissing the fact as unimportant. “Listen, Jeffrey, I saw you with Colette just now, and there are some things you need to know.”
“Yes?” Jeffrey gave him an expectant look, almost challenging.
Lucien did not need to go into the intimate details about his relationship with Colette. He had to protect her reputation at least. “Well, it’s personal, but I can assure you that she’s been through quite a lot lately, and I don’t think you should be trifling with her.”
Jeffrey’s eyes narrowed. “Who says I’m trifling with her?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Actually I don’t.”
Put off by Jeffrey’s attitude, Lucien grew agitated. “I am merely pointing out that Colette is a very special woman, and I wouldn’t want to see her hurt in any way.”
“I’m not going to hurt her,” Jeffrey said smoothly. “I am going to marry her.”
Lucien’s laugh was loud enough to cause a few heads to turn in their direction. “You? You’re going to marry her?”
“Yes.”
At the seriousness of his friend’s tone, Lucien’s laughter died in his dry throat. Jeffrey marrying Colette was completely out of the question. It was unthinkable as far as he was concerned. “You cannot marry Colette.”
“Of course I can. She has already said yes.”
“Since when?” Lucien demanded in disbelief. It was impossible. Colette would never marry Jeffrey. Would she? He had made it more than clear to her last night that he wouldn’t marry her himself. Why wouldn’t she marry Jeffrey if he asked her? A sudden cold rush of fear washed over him. Colette is mine.
No. No, she isn’t. Not really. He had given her away. Pushed her away. He felt sick inside.
“Well, I haven’t actually asked her yet,” Jeffrey explained. “Well, not formally, anyway. But she gave me every indication her answer would be yes if I asked her.”
“She did?” Lucien was stunned, absolutely stunned, his heart suddenly beating rapidly. He’d just
made love to Colette last night. Together they had made history in the history section of the bookshop, for Christ’s sake! Had that encounter meant nothing to her? How could she possibly agree to marry another man, only one night later?
The same way he had introduced her to his intended fiancée only this evening.
Jeffrey responded matter-of-factly, “Yes, she did.”
Jeffrey seemed so self-satisfied that Lucien wanted to knock him down. Instead he reiterated his main point. “I’m telling you now that you cannot marry her.”
“Why can’t I?” Jeffrey demanded angrily.
“Because she’s mine!”
The words were out of Lucien’s mouth before he realized what he had said. The thought of Colette, his beautiful, independent, passionate Colette, in the arms of his best friend almost stopped his heart cold.
“She doesn’t belong to you, Lucien,” Jeffrey uttered with a deadly calm. “She can marry whomever she chooses. As can I. Besides, what does it matter to you who Colette marries? You’re going to propose to Faith Bromleigh. Aren’t you?”
Lucien did not answer, although he had already made up his mind that he no longer had any intention of marrying Faith after all. In fact, they had parted that evening on good terms, but with the clear understanding that their brief courtship had ended. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, which did nothing to ease the anger building within him, he curled and uncurled his fists at his side.
Jeffrey’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Do you have some prior claim upon Colette I should know about?”
“My claims on Colette are none of your concern,” Lucien ground out between tightly gritted teeth. Did knowing the way Colette’s heart-melting smile lit up a room demonstrate that he had claims over her? Did kissing her passionately? Did making love with Colette in his bed or in a darkened bookshop? Did knowing just where she liked to be touched to make her cry with pleasure constitute claims? Lucien believed they did, but he was not about to enumerate them to Jeffrey. Especially when the subject of their conversation sat a few feet away from them. Instead he demanded, “What is your interest in her all of a sudden? I thought you were not planning on getting married for years.”
“Meeting Colette and her sisters has changed my mind.”
“Aren’t you leaving for France soon?”
“Yes, but not for two or three more weeks. I intend to wed Colette before I go. I’ll set her up in my house and then she can have her family stay with her or she can go to Brighton with them until I get back.”
Lucien shook his head in disbelief. This was a new Jeffrey. A Jeffrey that had made concrete plans with a woman for the future. “You’re serious about this?”
“Yes. I’ve thought it all out,” Jeffrey explained calmly. “I’m going to take care of her and her sisters. Once she’s my wife, she won’t have to toil in the bookshop any longer. Not that it matters now, since the shop has been sold.”
“Yes, I know,” Lucien said. “I’m the one who bought the shop.”
Stunned by Lucien’s comment, Jeffrey stood up straight, moving away from the wall. His lazy posture completely vanished. “You? Why would you buy the shop?”
“Because her mother was selling it and it would have broken her heart to lose it.”
Jeffrey’s voice lowered and he seemed preoccupied. “I hadn’t thought of doing that.”
“No. But I did,” Lucien stated.
“Well, once she’s my wife, she won’t have time to work any longer. I’ll keep her too busy.”
Jeffrey never even saw the solid punch that landed him flat on his back on the slate floor of the veranda. Immediately a commotion erupted. Shocked gasps and startled cries filled the night air.
“She’s fainted!” he heard Juliette cry.
Lucien turned around and saw Juliette kneeling over Colette, who lay on the ground also. Her aunt and uncle came rushing to their aid as some of Lady Hayvenhurst’s guests began to help Jeffrey to his feet.
Well, he had given the gossips quite a show that evening. Too angry with himself and the entire situation to care, he ignored the calls to him. Without a backward glance Lucien walked from the veranda as a crowd gathered around Jeffrey and the Hamilton sisters.
Later that evening, Lord Eddington’s black carriage pulled up in front of Hamilton’s Book Shoppe. Juliette Hamilton sprang from the carriage and hurriedly unlocked the door while Jeffrey half carried Colette out of the carriage and inside the shop. The one lamp that Juliette carried cast a yellow path of light as the three of them stealthily made their way to the back room of the silent bookshop.
“Sit her here,” Juliette instructed Jeffrey in a brisk whisper as she hastily removed a small stack of books from a tattered armchair in the corner of the room.
Jeffrey led a still-woozy Colette to the chair and let her fall limply onto it. Colette’s head fell back and she closed her eyes with a muffled little sigh. She was sound asleep.
“I had no idea she could get so foxed so fast,” he said in amazement, shaking his head at Colette’s helpless form.
“It’s all your fault, giving her so much champagne. Good heavens, Jeffrey! Your face!” Juliette cried, staring at the ugly purple bruise forming around his eye and upper cheekbone.
“I am a handsome devil, aren’t I?” he asked with a wicked grin.
“Oh, it looks so much worse than when we left Lady Hayvenhurst’s!” She reached out her hand and gently touched his swollen cheek with her fingers.
“Don’t press on it!” he cried out, flinching away from her. “That hurts!”
“I’m sorry!” Pulling her hand back hastily, she shook her head and bit her lip. “It’s going to look even worse tomorrow.”
“But it can’t hurt any worse than it does right now.”
“I’m afraid I have nothing down here for you to put on it. I can’t risk going upstairs just yet. Not with Colette like this,” she said worriedly. If her mother or one of her sisters happened to be awake and saw Juliette, they would wonder where Colette was. And Colette was in no shape to be seen by her family.
“That’s all right. My valet makes an excellent poultice. He’ll fix me up when I get home.”
“Can I offer a kiss to make it better?” Juliette offered with a mischievous smile.
“It can only help.” His eyes twinkled at her, making the bruise almost disappear.
Juliette rose on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss on the bruised area of Jeffrey’s face.
Crestfallen, Jeffrey frowned. “I thought you were really going to give me a kiss.”
Juliette began to giggle. “You’re so obvious, Jeffrey.” She flashed him a grin. “It seems Lord Waverly has quite a punch.”
“We both did a bit of boxing back at Oxford.” Jeffrey tenderly moved his jaw and stiffened cheek. “I’m not a bad shot myself, but I didn’t even get a chance to take a swing back at him.”
Oddly intrigued by the thought of those two fine examples of masculinity battling each other in a test of strength, Juliette mused, Which one would win that fight?
Lucien and Jeffrey’s little scuffle had caused quite a scene on the veranda. When a woozy Colette had jumped up to see what had happened, she tripped and fell. Due to Juliette’s quick thinking, everyone assumed Colette had fainted because of the altercation. Aunt Cecilia and Uncle Randall did not suspect that Colette had had too much champagne, although Uncle Randall had given her a skeptical glance, as if to imply that Juliette had done something to cause the row between Lord Eddington and Lord Waverly. When everyone was assured that Colette and Jeffrey were fine, they bundled Colette up, and she and Jeffrey hurried from Lady Hayvenhurst’s party and into Jeffrey’s carriage. Juliette was sure the gossip would be quite rife with speculation over the cause of the fight between the two friends. “I’m confident you could knock the lights out of Lucien Sinclair,” Juliette teased him.
“At times your considerable charm leaves much to be desired, Juliette,” Jeffrey remarked dryly.
Laughing at him,
Juliette glanced at Colette. Her sister had chattered incessantly the entire carriage ride home. Still suffering the ill effects of too much alcohol, she now slept peacefully in the chair. “At least we can talk without Colette hearing us.”
“She’s going to have a terrible headache in the morning,” Jeffrey predicted with a regretful expression.
“The poor thing,” she murmured softly. Colette rarely appeared vulnerable, and in this instance it left Juliette feeling more than a little anxious.
“Oh, fine. She gets your sympathy, but I take a punch in the face for following your little plan and I get laughed at.”
“It’s for a noble cause, Jeffrey.” She smiled sweetly at him. “You know how much I appreciate your help.”
He gave her a skeptical look, and then they moved to sit on two overturned crates. Usually Juliette avoided the back room of the shop as much as possible. The overcrowded, windowless space used to make her feel claustrophobic. But she had to admit that it was not as bad now as she recalled. Colette had been unable to spruce up the back room as much as she had the main shop, but at least it was cleaner and more organized than when their father was alive.
“What a scene that was! What luck Lucien hit you when he did! No one noticed my intoxicated sister. If Lucien hit you, he must have been jealous,” Juliette whispered excitedly. “What did you say to him?”
Jeffrey rubbed his cheek with an unconscious motion, obviously recalling the dreadful incident. “Oh, I hit a nerve all right. I told him that I intended to marry Colette and that she had practically said yes.”
Thrilled by this development and the probable success of her plan, she laughed at the thought of Jeffrey taunting Lucien. “Oh, my! He must have believed you!”
“I don’t think he was quite sure at first, but then I convinced him.”
“Did you truly ask Colette to marry you?”
“Of course not. Even if I did, she would refuse me. She is head over heels in love with Lucien.”
“I told you she was. And this evening simply goes to prove that Lucien is in love with her, too. If he didn’t care about her, he wouldn’t have hit you.”