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

by Wolf, Bree

  “Are you all right, dear?”

  Pausing in her step halfway down the corridor toward the front hall, Louisa turned and found her mother standing in the doorway to the library. Her blonde curls shone in the afternoon sun, and her pale blue eyes glowed warmly as she smiled at her daughter. “You look sad somehow,” her mother observed, stepping out into the corridor, her eyes sweeping over her daughter’s face as she came to stand in front of her. She reached out a gentle hand and tucked a loose curl behind Louisa’s ear. “What happened? You have been acting strangely for at least a fortnight. Is there something you wish to talk about?”

  Louisa heaved a deep sigh, wishing she dared share all that rested upon her heart with her beloved mother. Still, a part of her shrank back from the mere thought, afraid of how her mother’s eyes would look upon her if she knew. “I simply have a lot on my mind,” she replied with a soft smile.

  “Anything you can share?” her mother asked, something knowing resting in her pale eyes as though she could read Louisa’s thoughts or at least the direction in which they lingered.

  “Oh, it is nothing,” Louisa remarked, determined to hold onto her secret. However, when she saw her mother’s face darken, the clear wish to know, to help visible in her kind eyes, Louisa knew she could not leave her with nothing. “I find myself pursued by a most persistent…suitor.” Not that Phineas Hawke was her suitor, of course not. Still, without going into further detail, it was the closest reference Louisa could think of.

  Her mother frowned. “Persistent?” She took a step closer, her hand reaching out to settle upon Louisa’s arm. “In what way? Has he overstepped—?”

  “Not at all,” Louisa rushed to assure her mother, only in that moment realizing that indeed he had. If her mother knew what intimacies she had shared with Phineas, what would she think of her? Would she be disappointed? “He merely seeks me out at every opportunity.”

  Her mother nodded slowly. “And you do not enjoy his company?”

  “Of course not. How could I? He is so…so…”

  A soft smile curled up her mother’s lips, and her hand brushed gently up and down Louisa’s arm. “Sweetheart, I must say it sounds as though you do like him.”

  Startled, Louisa stared at her mother. “Why would you say that? The mere thought of him makes me angry. Whenever I see him, I want to claw his eyes out. As soon as he opens his mouth, I want to slap him. He is so infuriating.” Gritting her teeth as a wave of anger rushed into every fiber of her being, Louisa tried to remain calm, inhaling a slow breath, one after the other.

  When she once again opened her eyes, she found a rather indulgent look upon her mother’s face. “You know,” her mother began gently, a faraway look coming to her eyes as she spoke, “when I first met your father, I could not stand the sight of him.” She blinked, and her eyes returned to look upon her daughter.

  Louisa frowned. “But…we always thought that…” She shook her head to clear it. “Mother, you always spoke as though it had been love at first sight. What are you saying?”

  Her mother laughed, pulling Louisa into her arms. “Sweetheart, one does not exclude the other. Still, I admit it took me some time to realize that the reason he angered me so with a simple look, a simple word was because I cared for him.” The corners of her mouth curled upward, a mischievous smile coming to her lips. “Love and hate are both strong emotions. If we truly hate, it usually means that someone has hurt us deeply, and you cannot be hurt by someone who means nothing to you. Not in such a profound way.” She took a step back, her eyes settling upon Louisa’s, her hands resting gently upon her shoulders. “Search your heart, Lou. Ask yourself how you truly feel, and do not be afraid to answer yourself honestly. What you find might be shocking, but there’s nothing worse than living a life of lies, especially the ones you tell yourself.” She brushed a gentle hand over Louisa’s face, then stepped back into the library. “I shall see you at supper.” And with the last smile, she closed the door.

  Utterly shocked, Louisa stood and stared at the closed door, her mother’s words echoing in her mind. Could she be right? The thought was outrageous, and instinctively Louisa shied away from it.

  Do not be afraid to answer yourself honestly, her mother’s words instantly surfaced, a chiding tone attached to them.

  Burying her face in her hands, Louisa wished she could trade lives with Sarah. Was it not so much easier to attract a bit of an elusive suitor instead of repelling one most persistent? Perhaps what she ought to do for now was focus on someone else’s problem. Perhaps at least for a little while, Louisa could allow herself to ignore Phineas Hawke and the problem he presented. Perhaps for now she could focus her energy, her thoughts on assisting Sarah.

  Perhaps.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A Few Penned Lines

  Standing in the corner of the ballroom, Phineas watched Louisa as she smiled and laughed, chatting with gentlemen left and right. Occasionally, she would glance over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his, and glare at him as though her heart burned with hatred. Never in his life had he met a woman who could destroy another with a single look. Louisa, however, had honed this skill to perfection, it would seem, for Phineas felt his heart clench every time their eyes met.

  His temper was on a bit of a short leash these days, and Phineas felt tempted more than once to simply stride across the ballroom, seize her and drag her away, demanding an explanation. Unfortunately, that would not only cause a scene, but also a scandal. Neither he nor she could afford one, and Phineas knew that Louisa would never forgive him for humiliating her thus. But what else could he do?

  In that moment, his gaze fell on Lady Leonora. She stood a bit off to the side with her sister Lady Christina as well as another young lady Phineas had met on several occasions. It was Miss Mortensen, twirling a finger in her blonde curls.

  Straightening, Phineas made up his mind, his feet carrying him over to the other side of the large, domed chamber in a matter of strides. “Good evening, Lady Leonora,” he bowed his head to her and then to her companions. “Lady Christina. Miss Mortensen.”

  Lady Christina smiled politely at him while her friend blushed and then mumbled a quick greeting. Phineas, though, had already turned his attention to Lady Leonora. “Would you grant me a moment of your time?” he asked with a sideways glance at her sister and Miss Mortensen. “It is about my brother and your cousin.”

  Lady Leonora frowned. “Anne?” Then she nodded, muttered a quick apology to the other two before following him to a more deserted corner of the room. “What about Anne? Has something happened? Is she well?”

  Phineas shook his head. “I apologize for the deception, but I wish to speak to you about your sister.”

  A look of understanding came to the young woman’s features, and she nodded. “I see,” she replied, her blue eyes hesitant for a moment. “I’m afraid there is nothing I can tell you.”

  Sensing that she was not being completely straightforward, Phineas stepped closer. He could not help the thought that Louisa had indeed confided in her sister and that her sister now viewed him in the same light. What on earth had he done? “You spoke to her?”

  Lady Leonora nodded.

  After unsuccessfully waiting for a reply, Phineas asked, “Why can you not tell me? Do I not at least deserve to know what I have done? I assure you I do not have the slightest inkling what it could be.” A sense of hopelessness settled in his bones, a feeling he had never experienced before. Louisa affected him in the most unexpected ways.

  Lady Leonora’s features softened a little. For a moment, she seemed to consider his words, to consider him before she sighed, her lips parting. “I assure you I do not know. I did ask my sister, but she refused to answer me. All she said was that you knew. She said you ought to know. From her words, I understood that it must’ve been something you said.” Her gaze narrowed thoughtfully as she looked up at him. “Can you truly not recall an instance where you might have spoken to her in a less than appropriate manner
?”

  Racking his mind, Phineas quickly went through all the moments they had shared, no matter how short or seemingly insignificant. In truth, until a year ago, they had rarely spoken. He had noticed her here and there but had been too preoccupied elsewhere to allow his thoughts to linger. “I cannot fathom what it could be,” he told her, shaking his head in defeat. “Did she honestly say nothing that would give you an idea? Nothing at all?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Lady Leonora replied, disappointment resting in her own blue eyes. “My sister can be quite secretive. I’ve long since wondered if there might be something she’s keeping from me, from all of us.” She shrugged. “Although I admit, I do not know what it could be. Yet, sometimes, there is a moment when she looks at me and I feel as though…she wishes to say something, to confide in me. But then her jaw hardens, and the moment passes.”

  Concern settled in Phineas’ heart. “Thank you for your open words,” he said to Lady Leonora, suspecting that if Louisa knew how her sister had spoken to him, she would be furious.

  Her gaze rose and settled upon his. “Do not make me regret it. I am trusting you because I cannot help but conclude that you care for her. All evidence points to it. Therefore, it is illogical to assume that you would hurt her.” For a moment, she simply looked at him, a hint of a warning in her blue eyes. “However, even hypotheses based on solid evidence have been known to be wrong. I sincerely hope that this is not one of those cases.”

  Phineas nodded to her, hoping she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I promise you it is not.”

  In that moment, a footman appeared beside him, handing him a small envelope. Excusing himself, he stepped away to open it. Only a few short lines were written on the card within.

  P—

  Meet me in the library when the clock strikes ten.

  I must speak to you.

  L—

  Phineas’ breath lodged in his throat, and he felt a rather familiar, tantalizing tingle dance across his skin. The mere thought of her, the thought that she might have given in, unable to deny herself any longer, brought deepest longing to his heart. Did she feel torn? Clearly, she hated the very sight of him because of something he had said at some point in the past; yet, whenever she was in his arms, he could sense that another part of her yearned for him as much as he yearned for her. Was she at war with herself? Had for this one time, the other side won out?

  A clock chimed somewhere in the house, the sound muffled and dim. To Phineas’ ears, though, it felt like a clap of thunder. Ten o’clock had come, and without another thought, he rushed from the ballroom, afraid that she might leave before he got there.

  His feet carried him down the corridor, his eyes searching for the right door. He opened a wrong one by mistake, cursed, and hurried onward. His heart thudded wildly in his chest, pounding against his rib cage.

  And then he found it, the door he had been looking for. He all but threw himself against the polished wood, pushing it open and surging across the threshold in a single stride. He closed the door quickly, his eyes searching the dim room before they fell on a shadowy figure, standing by the window. “Lulu?” he whispered, his feet carrying him closer. He wanted to rush to her, to pull her into his arms; however, even before she turned around to face him, his feet drew to a halt, and he knew that something was wrong.

  Very wrong.

  For the woman standing by the window was not Louisa.

  “Miss Mortensen?” Phineas asked, confused and deeply disappointed. His gaze swept over her golden curls, took note of the slight blush coming to her cheeks, and noticed her eyes widening ever so slightly as she looked upon him. “What are you doing here?” The card that had brought him to this very spot was still in his hands, and his gaze dropped down to linger upon it, wondering. “Did you write this?” he asked, accusation seeping into his words. After all, had she not sought him out again and again, always lingering nearby? After his failure to respond, had she resorted to trickery?

  Miss Mortensen’s face paled, her steps unsteady as she came toward him. “I did not,” she whispered breathlessly. “I received one myself.” She lifted her right hand, and there, held securely between thumb and the tips of her other fingers, Phineas spotted a card exactly like his own.

  A deep frown came to his face, and he crossed the distance between them, snatching the card from her hands. His eyes fell to the words written there, and his teeth ground together in anger and frustration.

  S—

  Meet me in the library when the clock strikes ten.

  I must speak to you.

  L—

  Reflexively, Phineas’ hand closed over the card, crumpling it up into a little ball. Anger boiled in his veins, and his head snapped up, his eyes hard as they fell on Miss Mortensen. “You say you received this?”

  Looking a bit fearful, she nodded. “A footman delivered it.”

  Raking a frustrated hand through his hair, Phineas wheeled around, his gaze wild as he began to pace, trying to make sense of what had happened. Why would Louisa send each of them such a card, urging them to meet here, alone? What was she planning?

  “Does yours say the same as mine?” Miss Mortensen asked, her voice feeble and confused. “I suspected mine was sent by Louisa. She has been most kind to me as of late, lending the ear of an elder sister as my own is too far for me to speak to…on these matters.”

  Her words cut Phineas deeply for they seemed to support the idea that Louisa had sent both cards, seeking to play matchmaker. Did she think to free herself from him by connecting him to Miss Mortensen? Did she truly detest him so deeply that she would go to such lengths?

  “I wonder why she sen—” Miss Mortensen’s voice broke off, and her eyes widened when footsteps echoed closer from outside in the corridor. Someone was heading toward them.

  Phineas could have groaned. If they were indeed discovered here alone together, the scandal would be enormous. They would be forced to wed. Had this been Louisa’s plan? Still, there was no time to think about this now. It would have to wait for them to sort out later.

  In three large strides, Phineas stood in front of Miss Mortensen. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his gaze locking on hers. “I shall leave through the window,” he whispered urgently. “Close it behind me, then feign a headache if anyone enters. I was never here. Do you understand?”

  Swallowing hard, her eyes still as round as plates, Miss Mortensen nodded, her ability to speak momentarily lost.

  “Good.” And without another word, Phineas hasted to the window. He threw it open and looked down into the shadowy garden.

  From the dark shapes beneath, he suspected that a bush of some kind had been planted under the window. Hopefully, it would break his fall.

  Sitting on the window ledge, he swung his legs over, then lowered himself as far down as he could before dropping the last stretch. He landed in a springy thicket, felt a branch jab his right thigh and sighed in relief that it was not a thorn bush. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet, brushed his hands down his clothing, righting it, before he strode away into the dark.

  When he was a good distance away, near the corner of the house, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw a dim outline of a woman closing the window. Then she vanished from sight, and Phineas hoped that she would keep her wits about her if someone were to enter the library. Perhaps he ought to hasten back inside and ensure that whoever it was did not mean her harm. After all, the footsteps they had heard could easily belong to another gentleman seeking an empty room.

  Phineas would do as he saw fit, and then he would head home and once more consider the events of this night from every possible angle. Had Louisa truly sent each of them such a note? Or was this some kind of misunderstanding? Phineas fervently hoped that it was. “She better have a good explanation,” he gritted out, his pulse still thudding wildly in his neck.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Burdens

  It was a beautiful day. Birds twittered outside her window, and the sun streame
d in, warming her chamber and casting a warm glow over everything. Louisa had slept like a log and felt utterly refreshed as she rose that morning. A soft melody drifted from her lips as she hummed under her breath, dressing and then leaving her chamber to seek out her family downstairs for breakfast.

  As she entered the parlor, warm smiles greeted her. Her father sat at one end of the table and her mother at the other with her siblings in between. “Good morning, Lou,” her father said to her smiling. His dark brown eyes were the same color as his rather cropped hair, an odd match to his full beard, giving him the impression of a woodsman rather than an aristocrat. Yet, her father had never put much stock in what other people thought. He held out a hand to her, and when she took it, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “You look as though you had sweet dreams. Do I need to be worried?” A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat before he winked at her as he often did.

  Louisa laughed, “Always.” Then she strolled farther down the table and seated herself next to Leonora. Across from her, Harry and Chris were in a bit of a heated conversation about Sir Lancelot. Apparently, he had once more gotten away and found his way into Chris’ bedchamber, building himself a little nest out of her favorite books, ripping pages out of some and dirtying others in the process.

  “You cannot truly intend to keep him,” Chris complained, shaking her head at her younger sister. “He does not belong in the city. You should return him to the country where you can still visit him.”

  Harry crossed her arms over her chest, a deeply defiant look coming to her green eyes. “How can you say that? Sir Lancelot’s family. He would miss us terribly.”

  Chris laughed, “Do you genuinely believe that? Then why do you think he always runs off? Perhaps it is his way of telling you that he wants to leave.”