by Amanda Davis
“If you do not mind me speaking out of school, Your Grace, Xavier Balfour is a fine gentleman. I am pleased to hear of your impending nuptials.”
The duchess eyed him.
“You know the Balfours well?” she asked slowly and he nodded.
“I was born here at the hotel.”
“What is your name?”
“Joshua. Joshua Milner, Your Grace.”
“Very well. That will do, Joshua.”
“Very well, Your Grace.”
Joshua shot Lise one last smile and disappeared from the sitting room, into the hotel hallway.
“Strawberries in February,” the duchess mused. “I daresay your fiancé is attempting to woo you.”
“He is merely ensuring we are comfortable,” Lise mumbled, reaching for a piece of fruit. It was shockingly sweet, and the succulence only enhanced the feeling of pleasure already coursing through her body.
“Xavier is a difficult man to read,” Patience sighed. “I have seen the way he stares at you. He is clearly smitten with your loveliness, but this rush to marriage concerns me.”
“Concerns you?” Lise repeated. “We only just spoke of this!”
The duchess shook her head.
“It works to our advantage, Lise, but I have to wonder why.”
“Mother, my heart is aflutter with worry. I cannot afford to consider why he wishes to move the date along.”
“It does not much matter,” Patience assured her. “You will only be wed long enough to gain his trust and gain access to the safe in his office. You must be diligent, Lise. Do not take too much and ensure you are never caught. Work only at night. Soon, we will have enough money to leave the south of England and start a life where no one will know from what we run.”
“I remember what I must do, Mother,” she sighed. “I have not lost sight of our purpose.”
Patience offered her a small smile and nodded.
“Drink your champagne now, child. This is the last time we will be together before your wedding. I cannot bear to be parted with you with a heavy heart.”
Reluctantly, Lise accepted a glass and toasted her mother softly.
“To a hopeful future, Elizabeth.”
“Indeed.”
Their glasses clinked, and both ladies sipped the long-stemmed goblets to take hearty sips.
“Lise?”
“Yes, Mother?”
“Do not make the same mistake I did,” she murmured. Lise blinked uncomprehendingly at her mother.
“Do not fall in love with Xavier Balfour. It will only end in heartache for all of us, regardless of how matters result.”
Lise tried to scoff, but the scorn did not quite meet her eyes, and her pulse quickened at the warning.
“Love is the last notion I have, Mother.”
“That is always when it gets you, darling.”
Consternation filled Lise’s gut.
“You do not love the duke, after all he has done to you!” she gasped, aghast at the idea.
Patience looked at her sadly.
“Of course, I do,” she murmured. “He is the father of my children, the man who has provided for me.”
“Mother! He is a brute, a monster!”
“Love is complicated, Elizabeth,” she sighed. “That is why I would never wish it upon anyone.”
The sage words resonated inside Lise’s mind, but they were accompanied by dread as she peered at the strawberries sitting innocently in a pottered bowl, waiting to be tasted.
I will not permit myself to love him, she vowed, stifling the doubt that bubbled in her chest.
Chapter Six
It was impossible not to grow increasingly infatuated with the witty lady who had become a part of Xavier’s life in the most inconspicuous way.
The duchess had returned to Holden, leaving Elizabeth heartbroken for days following. She put on a brave face, but it was clear to Xavier that her mother’s absence caused a hole in his fiancée’s heart.
“In mere weeks, she will return,” he told her as they met for breakfast one icy morning close to the eve of St. Valentine’s Day. Her mother had been gone for ten days. “You must not fret.”
“Forgive me if I seem dismal,” Elizabeth apologized. “It is the first time I have been away from home for such an extended period. Perhaps I have a touch of homesickness.”
“But this is your home now,” Xavier reminded her gently. “I hope you will come to think of it as such.”
Her face paled, and she stared at him imploringly.
“You must think me horrid,” she gasped. “Of course, this is my home.”
There was much to see in the depth of her expressive eyes, but Xavier was uncertain he understood half of what went on behind the veiled irises.
“It is my duty, as your fiancé, to distract you from any unpleasantness until the day of our wedding.”
She managed a soft smile.
“You have been most kind, Mr. Xavier, you and your family. Your sister has been the most charming companion. Her child is precious.”
Xavier smiled and leaned across the table, his eyes twinkling.
“Is it blasphemous to say I believe ours would be more so?”
The fork in Elizabeth’s hand clattered to the table, chipping off a piece of the porcelain plate before her.
“Oh!” she gasped, startled at her reaction. “Forgive me.”
She jumped to her feet as Michael appeared at the table to help her rise from the chair.
“No trouble, my lady. I will fetch you another plate at once.”
“Do come and sit at my side until they clean the mess, Lady Elizabeth,” Xavier instructed, and she gazed at him uncertainly.
“Of course,” she mumbled when he met her gaze in confusion. Michael reappeared to handle her chair, and Elizabeth sank to his side, her face nearly opaque.
“Are you unwell?” Xavier asked, peering at her.
“I am fine,” she replied. “I merely startled myself.”
“Did my talk of children alarm you?” Xavier asked, his heart beginning to pump.
Perhaps she does not like children.
He found that difficult to believe. Over the past week, he had seen how well she had handled baby Catherine, and the infant had taken to her easily. It was clear to see that Elizabeth had a natural mothering way about her.
“No,” she replied quickly. “Of course not.”
She smiled at him but it did not quite meet her eyes although when he peered more closely, he also noted a deep sadness that he had not seen before.
I wonder what secrets she hides.
Xavier vowed to learn them all.
Perhaps God had heard his silent prayer for when Xavier woke on St. Valentine’s Day morning, a gentle blanket of snow had graced the countryside around the hotel. He could not have been more pleased with the weather, and he hurried to dress quickly.
He brushed aside his manservant.
“Not today, Nicholas. I will dress myself.”
“As you wish, Mr. Xavier.”
“Will you send word to Lady Elizabeth that I would like to see her in the office at eight o’clock?”
“Yes, Mr. Xavier.”
Nicholas exited his chambers to deliver the message, and Xavier opened a drawer to withdraw the valentine he had made especially for his betrothed. He had impressed himself with the intricate detail, the fine embroidery and lace trim. Arts were hardly Xavier’s forte, but somehow, he had created something beautiful for the comely lady who would soon be his wife.
In less than a fortnight, a major change had occurred in Xavier, one that he not only felt but that others had noticed.
“I daresay, I have never seen you smile so much,” Emmeline told him. “You are smitten with Lady Elizabeth!”
“She is my fiancée,” Xavier replied lightly, but Emmeline chuckled.
“Marriage and love are not mutually exclusive,” she reminded him as if he needed to be told.
There was a rap on the door of his b
edchambers.
“Come.”
“Good morrow, Mr. Xavier.”
He whirled at the sound of Elizabeth’s voice, and for a moment he thought he was imagining her presence in his quarters.
“Good morrow, my lady. Are you well?”
She lowered her eyes, her gaze falling to the pleated skirts of her gown before she looked up again.
“I must speak with you about a private matter,” she murmured, and fear gripped his heart.
“Of course,” he said, looking about for her chaperone, but stunningly, she was alone.
“My abigail waits in the hall,” she assured him and he exhaled, with disappointment.
For shame, he chided himself. Ladies do not enter the bedchambers of their betrothed unattended.
“I must return to Holden,” Elizabeth blurted out, and shock caused him to reel back as if her words had given him a physical blow.
“W-why?” he demanded, struggling to keep his voice steady. “Have you changed your mind about this union?”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head.
“Oh! Certainly not!” she promised, realizing that her statement had caused him distress.
“My word, Mr. Xavier. I do cause you a great deal of distress with my words, do I not?”
“Only when I misunderstand them,” Xavier quipped. His brow furrowed.
“Why must you return to Holden? Has someone sent word?”
“No,” Elizabeth replied quietly. “That is precisely the point. I have not heard from my mother since she left.”
Relief colored his face.
“Her Grace is quite well,” he assured her, but he was shaking his head as he said it. “She met with my mother only yesterday.”
“She what?” Elizabeth demanded, her face gaunt with shock. “Are you quite certain?”
“I am,” he replied, closing the short space between them and took her hand softly. “It was the queerest thing. My mother never takes visitors, yet they were having tea in her suite as though they were companions from childhood.”
“Here?”
“Indeed. I am bewildered that she did not call on you while she was here,” he continued. “Perhaps she tried?”
“Perhaps…”
There was doubt and confusion in Elizabeth’s voice.
“If you wish, I can send a messenger to her—”
“No!” Elizabeth interjected quickly. “I mean, there is no need. I will see her when she becomes available. The life of a duchess is quite complicated.”
“I imagine that is so. You should consider yourself fortunate that you are marrying a lowly commoner.”
He grinned and her worried face broke into a wan smile.
“I would not call the heir to a hotel such as this a lowly commoner,” she laughed. “However, you do make a decent point—I would not wish to live the life of a high-end nobleman.”
“Will you join me in the office? I have a wonderful day planned for us both.”
Her brows raised slightly.
“The office?”
“Indeed. I must take a stop at the safe. Will you come?”
“The safe? Uh…yes, of course,” Elizabeth agreed. “Shall we go now?”
“One moment.”
Xavier hurried back to the bedchamber and reached for the valentine card he had made for her before rejoining her.
“Happy St. Valentine’s Day,” he told her, handing her the paper. Her eyes grew large and she gasped, a gloved hand covering her mouth with embarrassment.
“I did not get you anything!” she muttered.
“I do not expect anything but your company today,” he replied, unhurt that she had forgotten. The days since her mother left had been difficult on her. He doubted very much that she had noticed the date at all.
Slowly, she opened the card with shining eyes and read the sweet poem he had struggled so hard to write. It had taken him hours, and even so, he was not sure it depicted the feelings he was hoping to portray.
“Oh, Mr. Xavier,” she murmured. “It is beautiful. Thank you. I have never received a gift for St. Valentine’s Day before.”
Their eyes met, and he could read the excess of emotion in her face.
“This is merely the beginning, my dear.”
He leaned in closer, his breath catching across her cheek.
“Perhaps, one day,” he breathed, “you will think to call me Xavy when we are alone?”
She tilted her head and smiled.
“Perhaps,” she jested. “One day.”
“Come along then, my lady. Let us go to the office, and then I have a carriage ride waiting for us outside.”
“A carriage ride? To where?”
“Does it much matter? It is a winter wonderland outside, and we have all the day to enjoy it.”
With arms entwined, they found their way to the lobby and entered the office under Matthew’s watchful eye.
“My father is gone to Cambridge, is he not?” Xavier asked the concierge.
“He is, Mr. Xavier, but Mr. Compton is about if you need him.”
An expression of fury fell on Xavier’s face.
“Pray tell,” he growled. “What could Mr. Compton possibly tell me that I do not already know?”
Matthew balked.
“Yes, Mr. Xavier.”
Elizabeth squeezed his arm gently as they moved inside the vast room.
“You were quite brusque with him, were you not?” Elizabeth asked gently. “He only meant to be helpful.”
Xavier scowled and look at her.
“It is not Matthew who infuriates me. It is Elias Compton. He walks about as though he owns the entire hotel.”
“Does he? I had not noticed that.”
Xavier dropped to his knees and removed a key from the pocket of his waistcoat before turning to the safe and unlocking the heavy leaden door.
“It is nothing specific,” he conceded. “But I know what he wants.”
“What would that be?”
“He intends to overtake the hotel one day. He started by marrying Emmeline, and soon he will have a gaggle of children running amok, claiming their grandfather’s stake.”
He clamped his mouth closed as he realized what he had just said, his face waning. Elizabeth was silent, and he slowly turned to look at her through his sidelong vision, a small satchel in his hand.
“Here,” he muttered, unsure if she was upset by his revelation or merely pondering his words.
“What is it?”
She stepped toward him to accept the bag, but Xavier had already slipped the contents out into his smooth hand.
A sparkling ruby ring shone up at Elizabeth, and she gaped at it.
“This belonged to my grandmother’s grandmother,” he explained. “It is one of most treasured heirlooms, and I want you to wear it.”
“Oh, I do not know—”
“I am the firstborn, Lady Elizabeth. It is mine to give to my wife, and you will be said wife. Unless, that is, you have changed your mind.”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, her gaze traveling from the ring to the card in her hands and finally resting on his face.
“I have not changed my mind.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a fusion of sadness and joy.
I may never understand her, but I can see how deeply she feels.
“May I put it on your finger?”
“Y-yes,” she mumbled, extending her left hand for him. It did not shock him that the ring fit perfectly as though it had been designed for her hand a hundred years earlier.
“Come along now,” he said lightly, willing the tears from falling down her stricken face. “Our carriage awaits us.”
She did not respond, but before they departed, he noticed that she paused to cast one last look back into the office.
“Have you forgotten something?”
“No, Xavy,” she breathed. “I will remember it all.”
Chapter Seven
Shame clung to Lise like a spiderweb. She was present, y
et not fully, in the fortnight leading to the wedding, which was to take place on the first of March. Perhaps because there was no reminder of what she was meant to do in the days following the wedding, Lise permitted herself to appreciate the gentleman who showed her nothing but kindness.
No matter how she tried to remember her mother’s prophetic words, she could not help herself from admiring his wonderful qualities or losing herself in the regal lines of his handsome face.
If she had tried to resist Xavier’s charms, Lise was sure she would have been unsuccessful. There was never a day that he did not find fresh flowers to leave in her chambers.
Where in God’s name is he discovering such luscious plants? She marveled one morning, three days before they were to wed. It was not only the small gifts that he bestowed upon her, of course. His emerald eyes depicted the feelings he felt toward her, and despite his full days of working about the hotel, Xavier seemed to find the time to eat with her and walk along the icy outdoors.
The guilt struck her the worst when she caught a glimpse of the glinting ruby ring upon her finger.
Will the outcome of this scar him from courting again? Will he be able to court again and marry?
Certainly, she had heard of noblemen finding ways through the Church to annul their marriages when their wives went astray, but would the same apply to someone like Xavier Balfour?
There is no one else like Xavier Balfour. He is truly one of a kind.
Despite the affections she was nurturing for the hotel heir, Lise did not forget the ultimate goal—and she had already begun to steal some of the monies put away in the safe.
On the nights when she had supper with Xavier, she would invariably “borrow” the key to the safe and steal away in the middle of the night to the office when she knew the concierge was away.
She had gotten to know the staff on polite terms, more so to learn their routine than for the sake of friendship.
I have no business making alliances with anyone.
She knew that the concierge walked the hotel between the hour of two and half past the hour, which was when she would steal inside the office and withdraw a few dollars to add to her and her mother’s escape fund.
In the morning, she would simply slip the key back into Xavier’s waistcoat, and he was none the wiser.