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

by Wolf, Bree

  Unable to respond, Louisa merely stared at her grandmother. Her emotions were hopelessly entangled, her thoughts torn between lingering on the horrors of the night of the masquerade and the shock of accidentally revealing her secret to Phineas. What was she to do now about either situation?

  Sighing, Grandma Edie reached for her walking stick, then slowly pushed to her feet, swaying for a moment before finding her balance. Her pale eyes looked down at Louisa, kind, and yet, challenging. “Let him help you,” she urged her granddaughter. “You’ll find the dark moments of this world look much brighter when someone holds your hand. Not even you can deny that Phineas Hawke wants to be that person for you. Why do you think he came here today? Why do you think he went after you the night of the masquerade? Why do you think he’s been lingering nearby all this time?” She smiled warmly down at Louisa. “Dare to trust him, and I have no doubt that he will surprise you.” Then she brushed a gentle hand over Louisa’s head, turned toward the door and then slowly left the room.

  Staring into nothing, Louisa remained where she was for the rest of the day. Again, and again, the moment she had accidentally told Phineas she could not read replayed in her mind. Certainly, he had been shocked. Who would not have been? But how did he think of her now? Would he truly remain? And even if he did, would he still look at her the same way he had before?

  It was that thought that terrified Louisa the most for she knew she could not bear to have him look at her and have him see someone unworthy, someone inferior. Even if he were never to say it to her face, but only thought it, she would not be able to look him in the eye ever again.

  Ought she truly give him a chance? Or would it be wiser to cut all ties and spare herself the moment of disappointment that would surely come? For if not even she could not think of herself in a through-and-through favorable light, how could he?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A Most Welcome Invitation

  With the season at its end and everyone retiring to the country, Phineas felt restless. Once again, he had taken to pacing. No matter where he was, the study, the library, the drawing room, any room would do. He paced and he paced and he paced, annoying himself with the simple fact that he could not stop, his mind as active as his feet.

  Louisa’s revelation kept coursing through his head. He had a thousand questions to ask her, and yet, he did not doubt that she would refuse him. Always had she kept to herself, and he could not help but wonder whether her family even knew. He doubted it. He doubted it very much. Had she shared her secret with anyone at all?

  Always had Louisa seemed full of life and laughter, her courage boundless. With the greatest ease, she had always been able to approach others, to speak freely, to laugh and smile and make others laugh and smile. She was honest and daring, and Phineas had always admired that about her. How many times had he watched her?

  Phineas shook his head, unable to recall.

  Still, he could not have been very observant for how else could it be explained that he had not noticed her inability to read? For a moment, he wondered if it was even true. Then, he recalled the paleness of her face, the way all blood seemed to have drained from it in utter shock as she had spoken without thought, revealing something to him she had always hidden. Indeed, it had to be the truth. Still, how was it possible?

  Always had he thought her one of the most clever and quick-witted people of his acquaintance. And she was, wasn’t she? Indeed, reading was simply a skill one could learn. It did not, though, speak to one’s intelligence. Nevertheless, judging from the look upon Louisa’s face, Phineas realized that she believed it did.

  A sharp pain pierced his heart at the thought of her thinking so lowly of herself. Never would he have thought it possible considering the way she always carried herself proudly, the way she had always unflinchingly met his daring gaze. Louisa, cowering in a corner? It was unthinkable.

  Belatedly, Phineas realized that the door to the drawing room had swung open. He turned and found his brother standing in the doorway, a curious look upon his face as he watched him. “Are you all right?” Tobias asked, stepping closer, his eyes fixed upon Phineas. “You seem out of sorts, not like yourself.” A tense chuckle drifted from his lips. “I must say, I am strangely worried about you. I never have been before, at least not like this.” He stopped in front of Phineas, the expression upon his face sobering. “What is it?”

  Utterly tempted to confide in his brother, Phineas searched his mind. He could have used some advice, some counsel, knowing that his brother would understand. Nevertheless, he knew he could not betray Louisa’s confidence. Of course, she had not made him promise not to reveal her secret to another; yet, Phineas could not in good conscience do so without her permission.

  So instead, he shrugged. “It’s nothing,” he replied, then instantly turned away and strode over to the window, not wanting his brother to see the—no doubt—guilty expression upon his face. “I am merely at loose ends now that the season is over.”

  “I see,” Tobias replied, the tone in his voice betraying that he did not believe a word Phineas had uttered. “What happened the other day?” he inquired, slow footsteps carrying him closer until he came to stand beside Phineas. He inhaled a slow breath, then turned to look upon his brother. “When we went to visit the Whickertons’? You vanished inside and then left without a word. Why?”

  Phineas forced a chuckle from his lips. “I admit, it was rather rude, but I was bored. So, I left.”

  A muscle twitched in Tobias’ cheek. “Is that so? For I could’ve sworn I saw you standing at one of the upstairs windows…with Louisa.” His gaze widened daringly as he looked at Phineas.

  Gritting his teeth, Phineas turned to look at his brother. “What are you saying?” he asked, a tense tone in his voice.

  His brother stilled, a hint of caution coming to his gaze. “Something happened, didn’t it? Between the two of you?”

  Phineas turned away, crossing the room in large strides. “That is none of your business.”

  “I’m afraid I must disagree,” Tobias stated calmly as the brothers looked at one another from across the room. “She is my wife’s beloved cousin; that makes her family.” He held Phineas’ gaze, slowly walking closer. “I want your promise that you will treat her with the utmost respect.”

  Phineas inhaled a slow breath, anger warring with respect within him. Indeed, his brother meant well, looking out for Louisa. Still, the underlying suggestion that he, Phineas, would do anything to harm her, to treat her ill angered him. “I assure you,” Phineas gritted out through clenched teeth, “I shall treat her with the utmost respect. There? Is that enough for you?”

  Slowly, Tobias’ head bobbed up and down, his gaze still watchful. “Is this merely a game to you,” he asked curiously, “or do you genuinely care for her?”

  The question, rather abrupt and unexpected, sent a jolt through Phineas, one that almost made him rock back on his feet. He knew not how to reply. Fortunately, though, the door to the drawing room once more swung open in that moment, and Anne entered. “Ah, there you are,” she exclaimed as her eyes fell upon her husband. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” She paused then, her gaze going back and forth between her husband and her brother-in-law, a contemplative glitter coming to her eyes. “Is everything all right?”

  Putting a smile upon his face, Tobias turned to his wife. “Yes, dear. Everything is all right,” he assured her with a sideways glance at Phineas. “What did you wish to speak to me about?” He strode toward her and drew her hand into his. It was such a simple, uncomplicated gesture, whispering of deep trust and intimacy, that Phineas could not help but envy his brother’s relationship with his wife.

  “Well, I simply meant to let you know,” Anne began, her gaze briefly straying to Phineas, “that I’ve made all the arrangements.”

  Tobias nodded knowingly. “Wonderful.”

  Phineas frowned. “What arrangements?”

  With a smile, Anne turned to him, something
oddly expectant in her gaze. “We’ve been invited to visit Whickerton Grove,” she told him, her eyes lingering upon his in a most inquisitive way. “Would you like to accompany us? We’ll leave in a fortnight.”

  Deep down, Phineas knew what Anne was doing. Likely, it had been her and Tobias’s plan all along. No doubt they had noticed something passing between him and Louisa. Had his brother not commented on the like before? It seemed that after he, Phineas, and Louisa had meddled in their relationship, it was now his brother’s and sister-in-law’s turn to repay them in equal kind.

  Phineas would have laughed if the situation at present had not been so tense. Nevertheless, he could not deny that the thought of visiting Whickerton Grove appealed to him. It certainly would give him a chance to see Louisa, to speak to her and perhaps with any luck at all find out more. Perhaps over time, he could wear her down, and she would confide in him. That was what he wanted, was it not? To be her confidant?

  Phineas met Anne’s gaze, giving her a little smile. “I believe I would like that, yes,” he told her, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. “After all, there’s little left to be done here in London. Perhaps a trip to the country would be most diverting. I shall see that my things are packed on the day.” Nodding to his brother and sister-in-law, Phineas strode off, thinking it best not to remain in their presence for too long. Still, the moment he walked past Anne, he could not fail to notice the small smile upon her lips spreading into a wide grin. It would seem he had played right into her hands.

  Phineas did not care though if he got to see Louisa.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Whickerton Grove

  Happy laughter drifted across the grounds as Louisa slowly strolled down the small gravel path into the gardens. Not far off, she could hear Chris and Harry as well as their friend Sarah chatting and laughing, hidden from her eyes somewhere beyond bushes and trees and hedges. The vastness of Whickerton Grove always amazed Louisa after months in London. Everything was so far and wide, seemingly endless. The horizon whispered of places far away, beckoning her forward, and yet, she knew no matter how far she would walk she would never reach its end.

  The jubilant effervescence in her sisters’ voices spoke of the same joy and delight to finally be out in the country again. Harry loved everything green and wild and boundless. Every day brought new creatures to tend to, to observe and learn about. Chris blossomed under the warm sun, her cheeks flushed with the fresh air as she and Sarah ventured off to the small pond nearby. Sarah, too, seemed more at ease here, her thoughts distracted from the losses her family had suffered so recently. Indeed, here at Whickerton Grove, time seemed to have stood still, preserving happiness and the ease of childhood days.

  Unfortunately, its magic did not extend to Leonora.

  Weeks had passed since the night of the masquerade, and still dark shadows rested upon Leonora’s face whenever Louisa’s eyes fell upon her. She rarely left her bedchamber, all but locking herself away, mumbling something of a new project. Yet, she never offered details, and Louisa wondered if her sister was truly working on something, even if only to distract herself, to banish at least for a short while the demons that lingered.

  Turning the corner, Louisa spotted her eldest sister Jules heading toward her. Their eyes met, and Louisa intuitively knew that there was something on Jules’s mind. “Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked her sister once they met near the small fountain.

  Jules heaved a deep sigh, concern darkening her eyes. “I was about to ask you the same question,” she told Louisa, reaching for her arm and pulling it through the crook of hers. Then the sisters proceeded down the path at a leisurely pace. “I worry about Leonora,” Jules said after a while, her gaze drifting sideways to Louisa. “And about you as well.” She stopped and turned to look at Louisa more fully. “What happened?”

  Louisa shrugged, contemplating what to tell her sister. Then she turned and continued onward, Jules hurrying to catch up with her. “I’m not certain,” Louisa told her honestly as they drew near to the pond.

  A small grove stood nearby, shielding a lone bench facing the still waters. Fortunately, their younger sisters had moved on, and the pond lay deserted.

  “Are you truly only concerned as I am?” Jules asked her as they stopped by the bench. “Or do you know more about what plagues her?” She reached out a hand and placed it upon Louisa’s arm, urging her to turn and face her. “You’ve always been so close. I cannot believe that you know nothing.” Her moss-green eyes searched Louisa’s. “Please, talk to me.”

  Sinking onto the bench, Louisa closed her eyes, feeling as though everyone these days was urging her to talk to them. Where had all the secrets come from? How had life turned so complicated? Had it not been simple once? Or had that merely been the innocence of childhood?

  Jules seated herself beside her, then reached out a hand and gently placed it upon Louisa’s. Only then did Louisa realize that her own was balled into a fist. “You clearly know something,” Jules whispered gently. “Please let me help you, you and Leonora.”

  Louisa looked up at her older sister. “I cannot tell you all that happened,” she whispered, unable to stop herself as the need to share this with another rose stronger than ever before. “I promised Leo, but I feel I might go mad if I do not speak of this.”

  Jules nodded encouragingly, her hand gently squeezing Louisa’s. “I give you my word I shall not speak of this to anyone.”

  Louisa inhaled a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with it. “A few weeks past, Leonora and I sneaked out of the house after dark.” She felt Jules’s hand tense upon her own; however, her sister remained silent. “It was my idea. I felt restless and trapped and…” She shook her head, unable to explain without going into details, without revealing her secret; and Louisa was not yet ready for that. “Leonora came upon me when I was about to leave the house. She refused to let me go on my own and insisted on accompanying me. I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve…” Guilt assailed Louisa anew, and she hung her head.

  Again, Jules gently squeezed her hand. “Where did you go?” she asked on a breezy whisper, apprehension only too clear in her voice.

  Swallowing hard, Louisa looked up and found her sister’s face oddly blurred, realizing only now that tears had begun to form in her eyes. “To a masquerade.”

  Jules’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “A masquerade?” she gasped, a look of horror coming to her face. “Why would you do that? Do you not know how dangerous—?”

  “I wasn’t thinking!” Louisa exclaimed on a sob, her fingers no doubt digging painfully into her sister’s arm. “I didn’t think. I should have. I failed Leonora in the worst way, and now I don’t know what to do.” Angrily, she wiped the tears from her face. “There’s nothing I can do to help her. She won’t even speak to me.”

  Jules frowned. “What happened that night?” she asked, the look upon her face though told Louisa that her sister did not truly wish to know.

  Straightening, Louisa met her sister’s gaze, reminding herself that she needed to try to be strong if she were to help Leonora eventually. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “We were…We were separated, and I don’t know what happened to her during that time.”

  For a moment, Jules closed her eyes. “Do you think we should speak to Mother and Father?”

  Louisa shook her head, meeting her sister’s eyes. “We cannot. Leo wouldn’t want us to.” She pulled back her shoulders and sat up straighter. “But I promise I shall speak to her again. I shall do what I must to find out what happened and to help her.”

  Jules nodded, still the look in her eyes was far from confident. “Perhaps she simply needs time.”

  Louisa wished with all her heart that it were that simple. “I do not think time will heal her.” She heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t know what will.”

  Rising to her feet, Jules brushed her hands down her skirts. “I shall try and speak to her as well,” she told Louisa with a small smile, “w
ithout mentioning that you’ve spoken to me. I promise.” Then she lifted her gaze and looked back down the path they had come. “I must go and see to Grandmother. Will you come with me?”

  Louisa pushed to her feet, thinking that perhaps a little time with her family would set her mind more at ease and help her find the right words when next she would speak to Leonora. She was about to agree when her gaze fell on a lone man striding down the path toward them. Her eyes widened, and her heart all but paused in her chest. “What is he doing here?”

  Jules turned her head and squinted her eyes against the sun. “Lord Barrington, is it?” she asked, then nodded as he moved closer, his face now quite recognizable. “I suppose he must’ve arrived with Anne and Tobias.” She turned back to look at Louisa, and a slight frown came to her face.

  “Was he invited?” Louisa demanded, her voice tense even to her own ears. “Or did he invite himself?”

  “That I cannot say,” her sister replied, concern once more darkening her eyes. “Are you all right? You look…flustered suddenly.”

  Forcing a smile onto her face, Louisa nodded. “I’m merely surprised. That is all.”

  After squeezing Louisa’s hand gently, Jules then retreated down the path. Louisa watched her walk away, greet Phineas kindly and then head back up to the house.

  The moment her sister disappeared from sight, Louisa felt an odd shiver dance down her back. She could not say if it was anticipation or dread. Indeed, a part of her rejoiced at seeing Phineas. He was still seeking her out, but why? How would he treat her now that he knew her secret?

  It was a thought that deeply unsettled Louisa, perhaps even more so because somewhere deep down she had come to care for him. More than anything, she wanted him to think well of her, and the thought that he might not—that he likely did not—felt utterly crippling.