Once Upon a Devilishly Enchanting Kiss: #1 The Whickertons in Love

by Wolf, Bree

  Her eyes, fortunately, still held the same fire Phineas had always seen in them whenever they fell upon him. A fire she seemed to have reserved for him.

  No one else.

  It was a small mercy.

  But not enough.

  Phineas wanted more.

  Chapter Nine

  The Freedom to Choose

  “Unbelievable!” Louisa moaned as she and Leonora walked down the pavement, their family’s London townhouse coming into view. “I can honestly say I’ve never been more bored in my life.”

  “Huh?” With her nose still stuck in her precious notebook, Leonora walked without sight, her attention wholly focused on the notes she had taken during the dreadful lecture to which she had dragged Louisa.

  Not even if her life depended upon it could Louisa now name the title, or the field, or the stuffy, old man whose lecture had threatened to send her into a deep slumber.

  Unfortunately, it had not. Louisa had remained awake from the beginning until its equally dull end. It had been torture, and no matter Leonora’s promises, she would never again agree to accompany her sister to such an event.

  The thing barely deserved the word. No, strike that. It did not deserve the word. Not in the least.

  Leonora clearly disagreed for she had been rapt with attention the whole time, her blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm and fascination. Likely, she had been severely disappointed when the lecture had finally come to an end.

  “You did not like it?” Leonora asked without looking up, her eyes still glued to the page.

  Louisa laughed. “Truly? What could possibly have given you that idea?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

  Too distracted by her notes, Leonora failed to identify her sister’s tone of voice. “Well, first, I heard you moan again and again as though you were in agony. Second—”

  “I was!” Louisa insisted, rolling her eyes at her sister, which, of course, she failed to notice as well. “It was torture.”

  “U-hu,” was all Leonora could manage by means of a reply as her feet carried her onward.

  Louisa sighed, feeling a slight pang of regret. “I admit a part of me wishes I had something I felt equally passionate about.” Perhaps that was why she had agreed to go with Leonora; in the hopes that she might find something else to fill her life besides endless balls as well as their meaningless nattering. Her own life often seemed empty compared to the depth Leonora’s possessed.

  Most women considered marriage their greatest goal in life, their sight set on snaring a husband with title, fortune and reputation to raise their own position. They desired to be wives, and, of course, mothers and thought little else to be of equal importance.

  Of course, society at large agreed.

  Louisa sighed, glancing at her sister, once again feeling envious of Leonora’s mind, her curiosity, her ambition and tenacity. Perhaps the fact that their parents had never pressured them to find a desirable match according to society’s standards, that they had always encouraged them to follow their hearts instead made Louisa feel even worse. She knew that she was fortunate to be granted such freedom by her parents, and yet, she did not know what to do with it.

  It seemed like an unforgivable waste!

  “Leonora?” Louisa said with a slight chuckle in her voice as she stopped by the steps leading up to their front door.

  Her sister, on the other hand, continued walking, her nose still stuck in her book. “Huh?”

  Louisa laughed., “Where are you going? Is there another lecture that calls to you?”

  Leonora stopped and finally her head rose, her eyes abandoning their focus. She looked up and her head turned as her gaze swept over her surroundings for the first time since leaving the lecture hall. “Oh,” she breathed, and a tinge of red came to her cheeks as she turned to look at her sister. “I suppose I was a bit distracted.”

  Laughing, Louisa shook her head. “A bit? That, my dear sister, is the understatement of the century.”

  Arm in arm, the two sisters climbed the front steps to their home and then walked through the front door. “Will you come with me again next week?” Leonora asked as they handed their bonnets and gloves to a footman.

  Louisa rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed that her sister had not even heard her objections. “Not even if you paid me.”

  Leonora frowned before her gaze once more fell upon her notebook. “If you’ll excuse me,” she mumbled, already heading for the large staircase that led to her chamber on the upper floor, “I need to review my notes.” And with that, she was gone, lost in a world all her own.

  Louisa sighed, then flinched when something small came darting into the hall from the back of the house. It moved fast, crossing the hall in a few large bounds before it disappeared into the drawing room. “Harry!” Louisa called out, torn between annoyance and amusement that her youngest sister’s most recently rescued charge had yet again gotten away.

  In the next moment, Harriet—or Harry!—came crashing through the very same door, her face flushed. “Have you seen Sir Lancelot?” she asked, panting.

  Louisa paused, frowning at her. “You call your rabbit Sir Lancelot?”

  “Where is he?” red-haired Harry demanded, her green eyes wide as they searched their surroundings. The cluster of freckles upon her nose moved as she crinkled it as though trying to sniff out her errant pet. “Here, Sir Lancelot. Here! Here!”

  “He’s not a dog,” Louisa observed with a frown as she followed in her sister’s wake. Even though, Harriet had turned eighteen only a fortnight ago, she often behaved like a girl much younger in years. “And he went in there.” She indicated the drawing room.

  “Did you find him?” In strode the Whickerton’s second youngest daughter Christina—or Chris!—the golden curls dancing artfully down her back in stark contrast to Harry’s wild, fiery-red mane. “Where is he?” She glanced at Sarah, their former neighbor and Chris’ best friend.

  “In here!” Harry exclaimed, waving the others forward before she darted into the drawing room.

  The other two girls followed as did Louisa, curious to see what had happened in her absence. As childish as her two youngest sisters still were—granted, Harry far more than Chris!—their day seemed to have passed in a more entertaining manner than Louisa’s. Perhaps she was doing something wrong!

  “Close the door!” Harry called as they all stepped over the threshold. “Or he’ll escape again!”

  Chris slammed the door shut with a vehemence that made the paintings on the walls rattle. “He’s over there!” Her finger pointed to the settee, and they saw a bushy, white tail disappear underneath.

  Leaning back against the closed door, Louisa watched with amusement as her youngest sister scrambled after Sir Lancelot, who seemed rather disinclined to allow himself to be caught.

  “Since when does Harry have a rabbit?” Sarah asked with a smile, clearly as amused as Louisa to see Harry darting over and around furniture to reclaim the little creature.

  Chris sighed, “She found it in the country on our way back from Anne’s wedding.” A chuckle escaped her when Harry tripped on her hem and landed hard on the floor. She would not be detained long, though, and was up on her feet only a moment later.

  Sarah laughed, “I assume it was injured,” the young girl observed with the knowledge of one who had known Harriet for years.

  Until recently, Sarah and her family, Lord and Lady Hartmore, had called the townhouse next door their own. Due to Lord Hartmore’s unfortunate gambling habits, though, they had been forced to sell it and move into a smaller residence. It had broken Chris’ and Sarah’s hearts to no longer live next door to one another, sneaking through a gap in the tall hedge standing on the border between their two houses whenever the occasion called for it.

  And it had called for it quite often.

  “Of course, it was,” Louisa replied. “Else even Harry would not have been able to catch it.” Which was evident considering her current misfortune.

&nb
sp; “It was a beautiful wedding, was it not?” Sarah remarked rather dreamily. “I have never seen Anne this happy. She was radiant.”

  Louisa smiled. “Love does that.”

  Sighing longingly, Sarah nodded. Then she paused, her gaze darting to Louisa before once more slipping away.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I was…I was merely wondering if…if you’re acquainted with Lord Barrington.” The color in her cheeks darkened a little.

  Louisa would have smiled at her innocent portrayal of young affection if Sarah had not set her sights on the one man Louisa loathed with every fiber of her being. Now, more than ever. “Unfortunately.”

  “He is quite handsome, is he not?” Sarah beamed, her thoughts too taken with the miscreant for her to notice the disapproving tone in Louisa’s voice. “Is he…?” She looked shyly at Chris before her gaze returned to Louisa. “Are you betrothed to him?”

  Louisa’s jaw dropped to the ground as she stared at Sarah in shock, unable to form a coherent thought.

  Chris shrugged. “I wasn’t quite certain. You never speak of him, and yet...” Her voice trailed off; still, Louisa had not missed its meaningful tone.

  Sarah tensed. “I mean, I…I saw you speaking to one another and I merely wondered if—”

  “We’re not!” Louisa exclaimed as outrage replaced paralysis. “And we never shall be. The man is—” She stopped, noting the flustered expression upon Sarah’s face as well as the curious one on Chris’. “If you want him, he’s all yours.” She took a step closer, her gaze intent as it held the girl’s. “But be mindful for he is not who he might seem to be.” There, she had uttered a warning. More she could not do without being forced to explain herself.

  Bidding Sarah a good day, Louisa slunk from the room, careful not to let Sir Lancelot escape, and headed upstairs, feeling suddenly in need of solitude.

  Ever since Phineas Hawke had somehow come by her secret—or was he truly merely suspecting?—Louisa felt reminded of her flaw more than ever. Of course, every day brought its challenges, from calling cards over letters to interesting snippets in the paper; still, Louisa had managed. She had developed a way to distract those around her, feigning fatigue or annoyance or disinterest or anything that might appear reasonable to have another read instead of herself.

  And so far, no one had taken note.

  At least not as far as she knew.

  No one except for Phineas Hawke.

  Her nemesis.

  Closing the door to her chamber behind her, Louisa sighed and sank into the beautiful armchair by the window, her gaze drifting to the gardens beyond, its greens growing in intensity, here and there interspersed by blossoming flowers. It was a calming sight; today, though, it failed to soothe Louisa’s battered nerves.

  Always had she worried that one day, she would not be able to uphold this ruse that had become her life. That one day there would be no more excuses or distractions. That one day she would be found out.

  After all, all the memorizing in the world could only do so much. It certainly could help her recite poems, allowing her to pretend she had read them herself when in truth she had merely been listening carefully upon hearing them, quickly repeating their lines to herself, trying to hold on to them before they could slip away.

  Always had Jules read to them as children. As the eldest, it had brought her such joy to entertain her younger siblings. Carefully, Louisa had worked to uphold that tradition, remarking upon how dear these memories were to her and that they all ought to hold on to a piece of their childhood. And thus, Jules read to them even today, at five-and-twenty years of age, all of them curled up in one of their chambers, all five sisters silent and listening except for one.

  Louisa’s mind knew how to remember, how to retain information almost indefinitely and reproduce it upon request. That was not a problem, and Louisa felt almost at peace when the topic of discussion strayed to literature or ancient cultures or anything safely belonging to the past. She might not enjoy each topic for its own sake but cherished them because they made her feel safe.

  News in the paper or leaflets about museums and operas posed a threat, of course, and Louisa always prayed that they would not find her unawares, forcing her to react without knowledge of the subject she was asked to remark upon.

  Closing her eyes, Louisa tried her best to ignore the nagging voice that echoed in her mind so often these days. She is a pretty head with nothing inside. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t know how to read.

  But failed yet again.

  Unbidden, Phineas Hawke’s face loomed before her mind’s eye, smirking at her, his eyes laughing as he looked down upon her. Although she could never detect a sense of superiority in his gaze, he made her feel small and insignificant. She felt vulnerable under his scrutinizing eyes, which never failed to make her anger spark anew.

  Pushing to her feet, Louisa gritted her teeth to hold back the frustrated growl that threatened to rise from her throat. “That loathsome man!” she hissed under her breath, unable to ban that teasing look of his from her mind. He enjoyed mocking her, did he not? He enjoyed seeing her squirm, was that not true? Why else would he always seek her out? Always linger nearby, watching her?

  Because he was, wasn’t he?

  Louisa swallowed hard as she recalled one moment the day of Anne’s wedding. She had tried to shove it away, ignored it with all her might, and yet, it kept knocking on the door to her consciousness.

  No, not knocking.

  Pounding.

  He had returned her kiss most passionately. Most eagerly. His hands insistent upon her back, holding her close. The memory still made her shiver, and she bit her lower lip, angry with herself for allowing that miscreant to affect her so.

  You stole a kiss. Be assured that I shall return the favor.

  The thought of kissing Phineas Hawke again, of having him kiss her again stole the air from her lungs and sent a jolt of awareness through her body. Never had she felt anything remotely like it, and it was deeply unsettling.

  Pinching her eyes shut, Louisa shook her head as though sheer willpower could hold at bay the temptation he presented. “No. No. No. No.” Why did this have to happen? Why did he make her feel like…like this? Why him of all people?

  Hanging her head, Louisa buried her face in her hands, feeling exhausted. Life itself was exhausting enough without adding Phineas Hawke to the mix, and now she couldn’t help but worry what would happen the next time they laid eyes upon each other.

  The problem was worry was not the only word that came to mind when her thoughts drifted to Phineas Hawke.

  Chapter Ten

  Questions & Answers

  “Why don’t you go and talk to her?” Phineas heard his brother’s voice beside him as they stood on the fringes of the dance floor in Lord Hastings’ lavish townhouse. “Nicely, I mean,” Tobias clarified in a warning tone that made Phineas turn his gaze from the arriving Whickertons and look at his brother with a deepening frown. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean,” Tobias chided him. “You have a way of riling her that will not get you what you want.”

  Phineas inhaled a slow breath, willing his features not to betray the excitement he felt at seeing Louisa here tonight after a fortnight of not even catching a glimpse of her. “What I want?” he asked lightly. “And what do you suppose I want?”

  Tobias crossed his arms, a challenging smirk coming to his face. “That indeed is an incredibly good question. What do you want, Phin? And don’t bother pretending.” His brows rose. “I saw the way you kissed her.”

  The reminder of their kiss at his brother’s wedding not long ago sent a jolt of longing through every fiber of his being. “She kissed me,” he pointed out, willing his gaze not to stray from his brother and seek her out again.

  Tobias smiled at him rather indulgently. “Her kiss was no more than the payment of a wager. Yours, however—”

  “You knew?” Phineas demanded, suddenly furious.
“You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

  Casting a glance at his young wife, who had gone to greet her cousins, Tobias took a step closer to his brother. “Don’t you dare pretend you’re angry with me, Brother. If you want to be angry with someone, be angry with yourself.”

  “You had no right—”

  “Truly?” Tobias interrupted, his outspoken behavior rather uncharacteristic. “After you meddled in my life to your heart’s delight, you now object when I do the same?”

  Phineas heaved a deep sigh. “I only did what I did because I wanted to help. I hope you can believe that. I knew you loved Anne—heck, every fool with eyes knew you loved Anne!—and I merely thought to help you along, to ensure you would not lose her.” He shook his head. “Do you truly hold that against me?”

  A slow smile stole onto his brother’s face that made Phineas a bit uneasy. “What makes you think my reason differs from yours?”

  Phineas stilled, for once no lighthearted remark upon his lips. “You…”

  His brother sighed, “You care for her, do you not?”

  Overwhelmed by this sudden turn in their conversation, the depth of it unfamiliar to him, Phineas laughed, “You jest, dear Brother. I assure you I—”

  Tobias held up a hand. “Fine. Deny it all you want, but don’t be surprised when someone else snatches her up one of these days, and she’ll be lost to you.” His brother’s dark brown gaze held his, his words echoing the very ones Phineas had spoken to him not long ago. “For once in your life, be serious, Phin, and ask yourself what it is you want.” He glanced over his shoulder to where Anne was hugging Louisa. “And if it is her you want,” he continued, his gaze once more seeking Phineas’, “then don’t be a fool. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.” He chuckled, then patted Phineas on the back and headed over to join his wife.