by Jo Beverley
“Oh, it’s simply dreadful out there! I’m drenched.” And indeed, the hem of her gown was damp past her ankles. Juliette tossed her wet umbrella to the floor with a grimace and glanced up in surprise. “Jeffrey! I didn’t know you were here!” she cried.
“I just had the pleasure of meeting Miss Yvette Hamilton,” Jeffrey announced to her.
“That’s nice,” she murmured distractedly. “Yvette, I need to speak to Colette and Lord Eddington privately.”
“And you wish for me to go upstairs?” Yvette asked with a gracious tone.
“Would you please?”
“Of course. Again, it was an honor meeting you, Lord Eddington,” she said, bowing prettily.
“The honor and the pleasure were all mine. Good afternoon.” Jeffrey beamed at her as she turned and left them in the shop. “She’s quite a little lady, that one, isn’t she?”
“I don’t know how you could keep a straight face with the way you spoke to her, Jeffrey,” Colette murmured before placing her head back down on her arms.
“Because she is an adorable child,” he defended himself. “And your sister.”
“Wake up, Colette. I have something to tell you, and it’s just as well that Jeffrey is here,” Juliette announced as she moved nearer to the counter.
Once again Colette made the tremendous effort to lift her throbbing head. “What?” she asked, noting the guarded glance between Juliette and Jeffrey. “If this is about last night, I don’t believe I have the strength to hear it.”
Juliette sighed heavily. “It’s about more than last night. I think I’ve made a terrible mess of things.”
“What things?” Colette asked in confusion.
Juliette flashed a nervous glance once again at Jeffrey before answering. He shrugged innocently and held up his hands without guilt. Juliette began slowly, “I just came from Devon House.”
Colette felt her pulse quicken at the mention of Lucien’s home. What had Juliette done? Had she spoken to Lucien? The worried expression on her sister’s face caused an uncomfortable unease to spread within her. “What on earth were you doing there?”
“Trying to explain to Lucien that Jeffrey has no intention of marrying you.”
Stunned, Colette stared at Juliette blankly, trying to take in what she said, but her aching head seemed to make no sense of the words. “What did you say?”
Jeffrey spoke up. “Last night I gave Lucien the idea that you and I were going to wed. As you can see,” he pointed to his face, “the idea did not sit well with him.”
“Lucien hit you?” she cried incredulously, her head spinning with their descriptions of the event. She recalled a commotion while on the veranda, and everyone thinking she had fainted. She cringed at the memory. “I don’t understand any of this. And I honestly don’t think I want to hear any more.” With a groan she put her head back down.
“You had better explain it to her from the beginning, Juliette. It’s not fair to confuse her when she’s in such a bad way.” Jeffrey walked toward the counter and began to rub Colette’s back. “Poor girl.”
Juliette came around and sat on the other stool. She leaned in close to Colette and said, “All right, then. I confess that I should have minded my own business and left things to work out for themselves between you and Lucien.”
Colette’s head flew up so fast she almost fell off the stool. With her pounding head and pounding heart, she could barely see straight. What had the two of them been up to? And what did anything have to do with her and Lucien? “Between me and Lucien? There is nothing between me and Lucien!”
“There’s no need to get so upset,” Juliette attempted to soothe her. “We know everything, Colette. We know Lucien bought the bookshop.”
The appalled look on her face must have given them both pause, because they looked remorseful. “What have you done?” Colette whispered.
Hesitating and reluctant to reveal the truth, Juliette began slowly. “We knew that Lucien was making a terrible mistake in marrying Faith Bromleigh when he is so obviously in love with you, and we thought we would help the situation along a little, by making Lucien jealous.”
Jeffrey continued to rub her back. “So I told Lucien last night that I had suggested marriage to you and you agreed.” He smiled wickedly at her and motioned to the marks on his face. “You see how he reacted to the thought of you with another man?”
Feeling nauseous now, Colette wanted to cry. “Are you sure he didn’t simply hit you because you are annoying?”
Jeffrey laughed. “That thought did cross my mind, but as I was lying on Lady Hayvenhurst’s veranda, it occurred to me that in all the years I’ve known Lucien Sinclair, he has never hit me. Not once. Not even when I more than likely deserved to be hit. No, Colette, this reaction could only have been prompted by his feelings for you.”
Colette had no response. She did not know what to say. Did Lucien have feelings for her? Had Lucien truly hit Jeffery out of jealousy over her?
Although she knew Juliette and Jeffrey, sweet Jeffrey, were only trying to help her, their meddling in her affairs made her angry.
“After Lucien hit Jeffrey, I realized perhaps that things had gone too far and I went to speak to Lucien this afternoon,” Juliette confessed.
“Oh, you didn’t!” Colette cried in despair.
Juliette stated tersely, “I did.”
“And just how did that go?” Jeffrey asked curiously.
“Not well. He was less than thrilled with our little plan,” Juliette explained. “But I think he will calm down and come to his senses eventually. The good news is that he is not going to marry Faith Bromleigh.”
Stunned, Colette stared at them. “He’s not?”
“No, he is not,” Juliette said. “And he told me so himself.”
“There, you see?” Jeffrey added with a grin. “He’s in love with you.”
Too weak to respond, Colette put her head back in her arms.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A Change of Heart
“Where have you been?” Lenora asked with a worried expression. “You’ve been gone for three days.”
“I am well aware of how long I’ve been gone,” Lucien responded, continuing up the front staircase of Devon House, carrying a small suitcase.
“But you didn’t tell us you were going anywhere.” His mother followed close behind him, her anxious words hovering around him.
“I sent word.” Unused to having a mother check up on him, he almost wanted to laugh at her anxiety. For over fifteen years she had no idea what he was doing at any given time. Now she was worried.
“Yesterday! Last night we finally received word that you would be home today. Your father and I were worried about you. Where have you been all this time, Lucien?”
He strode into his bedchamber and tossed his bag on a nearby chair. “I just needed to clear my head. I needed to get away. As you can see, I am fine. There is no reason to worry.”
Lenora sighed with resignation. “Well, I suppose not, but still…We were concerned. Your father said it was not like you to just leave without word. Is everything all right?”
Was everything all right? Lucien was still not even sure. He had left in an attempt to get some clarity, some perspective on things. Time away had only made him more confused. He could not stop thinking of Colette. He had not seen her since the terrible night at Lady Hayvenhurst’s when he had punched his best friend. But Jeffrey’s words had echoed over and over in his head. As well as Juliette’s.
He needed to see Colette. Three days of contemplating his situation with her had left him maddeningly frustrated and still unclear of what to do about any of it. The only blessing was that he had the foresight to end his ridiculous association with the Bromleighs. Nice people though they were, he and Faith would be miserable together.
Colette was something else altogether. He could not stop thinking of her and wanting to be with her. He adored her family, in spite of Juliette’s meddling. Colette had completely won
over his father. She loved her family, and her loyalty to them was astonishing. He found her intelligent and charming. Lucien respected and even admired her ability to manage the bookshop. She was witty and fun to be with, and of course, there was the sex. He desired her more than any woman he had ever known.
And after his jealous reaction to Jeffrey’s plan to marry her, he finally came to the realization that perhaps he was in love with her after all.
He was in love with a woman he was terrified to marry and who, at the moment, wanted nothing to do with him.
“Will you be joining us for dinner?”
Distracted, Lucien glanced at his mother as if just noticing her presence for the first time. “I’m sorry. No. No, I don’t think I’ll be able to join you this evening.”
“Are you going out again?”
“Yes, I suppose I am,” he replied slowly.
“Are you going to see Miss Hamilton?” she asked.
He did not answer.
“She was here yesterday.”
He eyed his mother sharply, his heart suddenly racing. Colette had come to see me?
She looked at him knowingly and continued talking. “Yes, Miss Hamilton came by to finish the library before she leaves town. In fact, she was here most of the day. She had dozens of books delivered, along with the rest of the furniture. The library looks quite grand now. Wait until you see it. She even read to your father.” Lenora paused, thoughtfully tilting her head at him.
Lucien still said nothing, somehow not surprised by Colette’s determination to finish the job she agreed to do in spite of their differences. He had grown to admire that quality in her.
“She’s a lovely girl. We had a nice little chat, she and I.” His mother turned to leave the room. She gave him an enigmatic smile. “Good luck, Lucien.”
Looking back at her, Lucien grinned.
The elegant sign on the door of Hamilton’s Book Shoppe had been turned to read “Closed,” but Lucien ignored it and opened the door anyway. The bells jingled a now-familiar tune as he let himself in the little shop. He should warn Colette to always lock the door when the store was closed. What if a thief wandered into the store with Colette there alone? It was too careless of her not to lock the door.
He stopped short in surprise as he looked around him. Four pairs of blue eyes stared at him. Juliette, Lisette, Paulette, and Yvette Hamilton stood looking at him curiously. Colette was nowhere in sight. They were in the process of packing books into crates, obviously preparing for their move to Brighton. But what they were planning to do with all the books he had no idea, for certainly they could not fit them all into a little cottage. It pained him to see the shop being packed up.
“Good evening, ladies.” He stepped farther into the shop, feeling the chilly reception in their silent and awkward stares.
“In case you couldn’t read, Lord Waverly, we are closed,” Juliette said in a clipped tone, obviously still angry over their little discussion a few days ago.
“Then you should have locked the door,” he rejoined lightly, enjoying the spark that flashed in her eyes when she could not think of a witty response. He looked toward Paulette with a grin and said, “Hello there.”
When his faithful ally turned his back on him, Lucien knew he was in trouble with the Hamilton sisters. Then little Yvette, too, turned up her nose and looked away. Something was definitely wrong. To his surprise, the usually reserved and shy Lisette walked forward to greet him with a hesitant smile.
“Good evening, Lord Waverly. Please excuse my sisters. We are a little overwhelmed with packing for our move to Brighton. It is fortunate you are here, since as the new owner, we had no idea what you wanted to do with the bookshop.”
He gave her a pointed stare. “I don’t wish to do anything with the shop. I want it to remain the way it is. That is why I purchased it, Lisette.”
The quizzical look in Lisette’s eyes gave him pause. She said nothing and glanced away uncomfortably.
“Ladies, the reason I bought the shop was so that you could remain here,” he announced to all of them.
Stony silence filled the room.
Had Colette poisoned all their thoughts against him? He understood, partly, why Colette was angry with him, but he could not fathom why all four sisters looked daggers at him. What had he done that was so terrible?
“You can stop packing the books,” he continued. “I wish for them to stay in the shop. Where is Colette?”
Paulette finally spoke to him, her expression searching and apologetic. “Upstairs with Mother.”
“May I go up and see her or should I wait?” he asked in a tone that left no doubt in their minds that he would be doing one or the other.
“Monsieur le Comte, I believe you may see my daughter now.”
Genevieve Hamilton stood tall in the doorway, her hand resting on her ornate, gilt-handled cane. She looked more alive than he had seen her before, more alert. Colette stood beside her.
Lucien could not keep his eyes from Colette. The unreadable expression on her beautiful face made him wonder what she was thinking. Was she glad to see him there? Surprised? Her clear blue eyes stared back at him with a magnetic force, drawing him in. Seeing her chocolate-colored hair pulled up revealing her graceful neck, he was stuck by the overpowering desire to pull her into his arms and hold her to him.
“Good evening, Mrs. Hamilton,” he said. “Colette.”
“Good evening, Lord Waverly. Nous voudrions parler en privé. Monte dans ta chambre. Girls, please leave us. We wish to speak privately. Go upstairs now,” Genevieve commanded. Without a word, Colette’s four sisters scurried from the room.
Lucien motioned toward a chair for Genevieve to sit. She shook her head. “Merci, mais je ne préfère pas. I shall not stay long. I only wish a moment of your time.”
“Of course, Mrs. Hamilton,” Lucien agreed. He glanced at Colette, hoping to get an idea of what her mother wished to speak to him about. Wondering what and how much Colette had told Genevieve about their relationship, he asked, “How can I help you?”
“Well, monsieur, I have learned that you are the gentleman who has purchased the bookshop from me.”
“That is true, yes.”
“I see.” She gazed at Colette for a moment, then her eyes refocused onto his. “I assume you had good reason for doing so?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hamilton,” Lucien said pointedly. “I had excellent reasons. Six of them.”
Genevieve smiled faintly. “Yes, that is what I thought, although perhaps one reason motivated you more than the others.” She paused in thought, glancing between Lucien and her daughter. “You wish for the bookshop to remain open and for Colette to continue on as she has?”
“That was my intention, yes,” Lucien stated.
“We have some arrangements to make, and Colette and I were just discussing them. You have made it possible for my daughter to keep this shop, which she loves so much, while setting me free. And for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“You are very welcome.”
“I believe you two have some important matters to discuss, so I shall leave you now. Bonsoir, Monsieur le Comte. Je vous remercie du fond du coeur. Good evening.” With that Genevieve Hamilton turned and walked from the room, leaving him alone with Colette.
They stood awkwardly with each other, before Lucien reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sheaf of papers tied with a ribbon. “I have something for you, Colette.”
“I don’t want anything from you.” Her words were terribly cold and nothing less than he expected from her.
“I realize that, but please take this anyway.”
Hesitantly, her hand reached out to take the papers. Before she had them in her grasp, he pulled them back and grabbed her hand in his. Slowly he dragged her toward him. Her feet reluctantly stepped forward across the wooden plank floor. When she was close enough, he cupped her face in his hands. “I know you are angry with me, and you have every right to be, because I have beh
aved like a fool. But I want you to know something first.”
Colette glanced up at him, eyeing him suspiciously, but he noted that she also seemed nervous.
“I love you, Colette Elizabeth Hamilton. I love everything about you, from your pretty blue eyes to your sexy mouth to your adorable, meddling sisters to your working in the bookshop to the way your kisses drive me wild. I love the color of your hair and the shape of your nose. I’ve made myself crazy thinking it would never work between us. I have tried for weeks to deny my feelings for you, and I simply cannot do it any longer.”
Colette couldn’t breathe. A million thoughts raced through her head, not one of them coherent. Had Lucien just said the words she had longed to hear? “Lucien, I…I think…”
“Don’t speak yet.” He pressed the papers into her hand. “Look at this before you say anything.”
With her heart thumping wildly in her chest, her fingers trembled as she untied the ribbon and unfolded the pages he had given her. At first she could not believe what she was seeing. She glanced up at him in uncertainty. His gorgeous green eyes twinkled in response. She returned her gaze to the sheet of paper in front of her on which Lucien had written her favorite poem, Who Ever Loved That Loved Not at First Sight? by Christopher Marlowe. The first line, “It lies not in our power to love or hate…” swam before her eyes.
“I think I fell in love with you the moment I met you, Colette, but I was too blind to recognize the truth.”
“Lucien,” she began, but he interrupted her again.
“And just so you are aware, I did not buy that poetry book for a ‘lady friend,’ as I led you to believe. I kept it for myself and read page seventy-four thinking of you. I could not get you out of my mind from the day I saw you here in the disordered shop with dust in your hair and dirt on your face. You were still the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on.”
Speechless, Colette stared at him. Lucien Sinclair loves me? And had loved her from that first day? She could not take in such momentous news.