One Scandalous Kiss (6 page)

And she couldn’t look at the bookshop, each element that made it a whole, without seeing Father in her mind’s eye. He’d been the one ingredient that bound it all together. It had been his dream, his life’s work. With his own hands he’d polished the bookcases, filled them with precious volumes, and carefully formed the elegant script on each brass category plate. She held a vague, fragile memory of Mother and Father dancing a lively jig on a day of bountiful sales, and more vivid memories of how her father would whistle or break into song as he worked, his lively tenor echoing off the towering bookshelves. He was a man who loathed silence, often talking to himself aloud, and she realized what had been missing from the shop hadn’t just been his presence but his noise.

The latter days she tried not to remember—the nights he would disappear and she’d find him too hungover or despondent to run the shop the next day. The promises and lies about money, the assurances that all would soon be well, that their luck would change. She didn’t wish to recall her father for his weakness of character, but she couldn’t deny it. Especially now. Taking Kitty’s money and kissing a stranger had been her folly, but he’d sown the seeds of the shop’s failure years before.

A rap at the door doused her reverie, and Jess quickly wiped away her tears.

Though it was not yet six, the sky had begun to turn dark and she couldn’t make out the figure through the glass.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed.”

The rapping sounded again, this time louder and more insistent. Her visitor wasn’t going to be deterred, it seemed.

She undid the latch, turned the knob, and was pushed back nearly into the wall. Just on the verge of protesting, she spied two beige creatures sprinting into the shop and disappearing among the stacks. Then a woman emerged through the open door. At least it appeared to be a woman. A hat, the largest, grandest, most ornate creation she’d ever seen, was the dominant feature that moved across the threshold. Then the hat moved and two blue eyes, cool and clear, met hers.

The woman’s dress, a deep blue creation with panels of lace and velvet, fit her shapely figure perfectly. She finally tilted her head and the enormous hat receded, feathers and a coil of ribbon still settling into place against her dark hair moments after she’d stopped moving.

“How do you do, Miss Jessamin Wright? You are Miss Wright, are you not?”

Jess could only manage a nod.

“Excellent. I am the Countess of Stamford. I believe you are acquainted with my nephew, Viscount Grimsby.”

For a moment Jessamin stared at Lady Stamford much as she’d stared at Lord Grimsby. Both of them looked so completely out of place in the midst of her sagging shelves of books. The oddity and extraordinary coincidence of having two members of the aristocracy visit her shop in the same day made a giggle bubble up. Jess bit her lip and cleared her throat to stifle the impulse.

The lady’s pets, two identical pugs, had finished their perusal of the bookshop and waddled over to sit at their mistress’s feet. One quickly tired of sitting and folded his short legs to lie down. Both looked up, assessing Jess with bulging eyes. Lady Stamford watched her too, and Jess wondered how she fared in the fine lady’s estimation. Not well, she imagined. Nothing she owned was fashionable, and her hair was likely a fright after a day at the shop, not to mention the embarrassment she’d caused the woman’s nephew. That, of course, must be why she’d come.
Might as well get the apologies out of the way.

“My lady, I truly regret the incident of last evening. And any trouble I might have caused your nephew—”

The countess cut her off. “Miss Wright, I am not here to discuss last evening’s . . . misunderstanding.”
Misunderstanding
was a terribly gracious and inaccurate way of viewing the entire debacle. “Rather, I am here to discuss you and your future.”

“My future?”

“I understand your shop here . . .” Lady Stamford took a moment to look around at the shelves of books, as if just realizing their presence. Jess was surprised to see that she didn’t look dispassionately but actually took the time to read the titles on a few nearby spines, just as her nephew had done. “Yes. You have quite a selection, I see.” She picked up a small red morocco leather folio of poetry. “Would you sell me this one?”

“I’m afraid I won’t be selling any more books, my lady. My shop is closed as of this morning.”

“Yes, of course. That’s why I’m here.”

For a moment, Jess had the mad notion Lady Stamford meant to buy her shop. Before she could form a question, the lady’s clear, strong voice provided an explanation.

“I mean to offer you employment, Miss Wright. I heard about the closure of your shop and thought you might be in need of a situation. I have need of a companion. When would you be able to start? I’ll be returning to Wiltshire soon so I will need your answer straightaway.”

Jess told Jack she would go into service, but she’d imagined a place as a governess. She had no idea what being a lady’s companion might entail. She only knew that she wasn’t suited to it, either by birth or by preparation. Weren’t lady’s companions usually wellborn young women?

“I am not suited to be your companion, my lady.” Did the woman truly not care about the business with her nephew? “And the events of last evening—”

“—will soon be forgotten, Miss Wright.”

“My behavior wasn’t that of a lady’s companion.” Jess couldn’t quite meet the woman’s eyes as she recalled her own behavior—the kiss she’d shared with Lady Stamford’s nephew, the fact that she’d let him touch her again hours before.

Though she didn’t know the man’s aunt—or him, for that matter—Jess felt an instant liking for Lady Stamford. The notion of bringing her any shame or making her the object of more gossip was wholly unacceptable.

Lady Stamford smiled, and her entire face lit up. Jessamin thought she even detected a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Well, you weren’t a lady’s companion at the time.”

Jess sensed the firm set of her mouth melting into a grin and felt a bit of the day’s disappointments ease. Lady Stamford’s mirth was infectious, as if she was inviting you to see the world in the unique manner she did.

“Miss Wright, though I do not begin to know your reasons, I can recognize an act of desperation when I see it.”

Jessamin snapped her head up and looked at Lady Stamford directly. She felt raw and exposed. How much did this woman know of her situation?

“Oh yes, I too have been desperate in my life. I’ve made dreadful choices as a result. I see you doubt me, but I promise you it’s true. However, that is past, as is last evening. Now, will you come to Wiltshire with me or not? I need an answer as soon as you can give it.”

Jess was tempted to be swayed by Lady Stamford, moving in her mind and heart toward acceptance. The shop was closed and she had no other options for work or lodging. The prospect of leaving London, where the ruins of her failure lay, was extremely appealing. Then a thought struck her with doubt.

“What will Lord Grimsby say to all of this?”

Lady Stamford quirked a grin before answering.

“Hartwell, my brother’s estate, is miles away. A whole county, if it puts your mind at ease. My nephew is preoccupied with running it and rarely has time to visit. I assure you, Miss Wright, the two of you are unlikely to cross paths very often.”

The assurance should have brought Jess relief, but it only brought an ache, an echo of the sense of loss she felt over her father’s shop.

The burdens of the day, of her situation, hit her all at once, and Jess wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, fall asleep, and hope it had all been a bad dream. But she sensed the grand lady’s impatience.

“I will . . . have to think about it, my lady. Thank you for your—”

“I have yet to make an offer, my dear. One hundred pounds per annum.”

If there’d been a chair nearby, Jess would have sunk into it. As it was, she held herself quite still to stop from doing something very silly, like fainting.

“One hundred pounds?” To Jessamin’s mind it was such an extraordinary sum that it bore repeating—the amount she’d taken to kiss the woman’s nephew, the amount of the check she intended to return to Kitty Adderly now that the whole scheme had gone dreadfully wrong. She tried to hide the note of incredulity in her voice but found it impossible.

“Very well. Two hundred pounds. But you drive a very hard bargain, Miss Wright.”

This time she couldn’t stifle her response. She laughed and immediately raised a hand to her mouth to quell it. If the lady hadn’t been standing before her looking as serious as her grim nephew, Jess would have asked if she was joking.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I very much hope you will say yes. It is a reasonable salary.”

It was an unheard-of salary.

“Room and board will be provided at Marleston Hall, of course.”

Lady Stamford watched her closely, and Jessamin suspected she read her troubled thoughts easily.

“It need not be an appointment forever, of course. I suspect you wish to rebuild your shop again. Such a sum after a year would set you up quite nicely, would it not?”

The regal woman in the preposterous hat truly was a mind reader. And a very effective saleswoman.

“May I have at least one day to think on it, Lady Stamford?” Jess feared the confident expression she strove for didn’t quite meet her eyes. Fear overrode everything. Fear of the future. Fear that service would become her fate, and not just for a year. Fear that even if she attempted to rebuild the shop and lending library, she’d fail again.

But if Lady Stamford noticed any sign of Jessamin’s reservations, she chose to ignore it.

“One day, Miss Wright. I shall expect your answer tomorrow.”

Tomorrow was not precisely giving her a full day to ponder the offer, but Jess could hardly quibble with a woman who’d just proposed a salary double, even triple, what most in service expected to earn.

“Tomorrow you shall have your answer, my lady.”

As she led Lady Stamford to the door and watched the two small dogs scurry after their mistress, Jess suspected the countess already knew what answer she’d give. She needed a new start, and she’d never find another post that would set up her up so well, allowing her to save for the future, whatever it might bring.

Chapter Seven

“A
ND SHE INSISTS
on your answer today?” Alice tried a sip of coffee and reared back as if she’d been stung. They served their aromatic brew scalding hot at Sampson’s, Jess’s favorite coffeehouse just around the corner from her father’s shop.

“I think she wanted it last night. She seems eager to return to the countryside.” Jess blew across the surface of the inky liquid in her own cup before attempting a sip.

“Do you think it’s anything to do with the . . . you know?” Alice lifted an eyebrow and glanced down at the scandal sheet Jess had purchased. It was the signal she’d used throughout their conversation to refer to the kiss Jess had given Lord Grimsby.

Though they’d found nothing in the broadside mentioning the incident, Jess would never forget the crush of people packing the overheated space. The kiss had been witnessed by a teeming crowd. Surely it would cause a bit of gossip. Apparently it was so scandalous even Alice couldn’t bring herself to speak of it openly, despite her obvious curiosity.

“It makes it worse when you don’t say the word.”

“I suspect I’ll find it easier to say when I’ve actually done it.” Now it was Alice’s turn to go red in the face. Since Alice usually eschewed the notion of marriage, Jess hadn’t given much thought to whether her friend wished for a suitor or had ever had one.

“Well,
I’d
certainly never kissed a man before last night.” Jess said the words a bit too emphatically and glanced over her shoulder to make sure the young men playing chess at a table nearby hadn’t overheard.

When she turned back, Alice leaned forward, her face inches away.

“What was it like?” she whispered.

Jess took a long draw of her now pleasantly warm coffee and looked Alice squarely in the eyes.

“Astonishing.” She swallowed and continued, determined to be just as honest with Alice as her friend had always been. “I was nervous and very nearly turned back. But I’d already taken Lady Katherine’s money and even delivered it to Mr. Briggs at the bank. I couldn’t turn back.”

“Yes, but the act itself. Was it very awkward? You’d never met the man.”

None of what she’d done had been proper, and parsing the details made it seem much worse. Discussing it, even with someone Jess trusted completely, had her squirming in her chair and sipping her coffee too quickly. She told herself that was why her cheeks burned as if she’d been sitting in the sun overlong.

“It was awkward at first, but then . . . it wasn’t.”

Alice looked awestruck, as if Jess had just imparted a newly discovered law of the universe.

“I always imagined it would be wretched at first, and one would improve with practice.”

Jess frowned. “Perhaps I was wretched, but I suspect he’s had a good deal of practice.”

Alice choked out a laugh before falling silent, waiting for Jess to continue.

“The kiss was electrifying. I didn’t expect that. And I probably shouldn’t even admit it. But it’s true, even if it cost me the shop. I should regret it more than I do.”

Though she wasn’t usually given to physical gestures of affection, Alice reached across the table and patted Jess’s hand.

“What’s done is done. I’ve always appreciated your honesty.” Alice sat up straight and circled her warm mug of coffee with her hands. “But what will you do? His aunt is offering you a remarkable salary, but what will the viscount have to say about it?”

Alice’s reassurance settled her nerves a bit, and Jess was grateful to broach the topic at hand. Should she accept employment with the aunt of a man with whom she’d shared that electric kiss?

“Lady Stamford promised I’d see him rarely, and she didn’t seem concerned with his reaction.”

“She’s quite the Good Samaritan. Perhaps she’d like to contribute to the union.”

Jess grinned before lifting her cup again. “I’ll be sure to tell her about the union.”

“You’ve already decided, then?”

Jess cocked her head and released a breath. She had decided. When she’d asked for Alice’s advice, she’d already been halfway to accepting Lady Stamford’s offer. Now she was certain, and that certainty eased her heart and mind.

“Yes, I suppose I have. It’s just for a year and it will provide sufficient funds to set me on a new path.”

“More than sufficient, especially with Lady Katherine Adderly’s contribution.”

Jess set her cup down harder than she intended, nearly upsetting it and spilling the dregs of her coffee.

“No, Alice. I have to return that money to Kitty.”

Alice tipped her mouth wryly. “I don’t think you do.”

“I do. It would be wrong to keep it.” One hundred pounds was a sufficient sum to tempt anyone, but whether Kitty truly intended the money to aid Jess’s shop or buy her complicity in a harebrained scheme, every penny of it seemed tainted now.

“Because you enjoyed it?”

When Jess glared at her, Alice added, “When you . . . you know with the dandy.”

As if she needed that additional bit of explanation, especially with Alice’s refusal to even speak the word. As if it was the ultimate sin. As if it was wicked. And while kissing a stranger had felt a bit sinful and, if she considered it too long, yes, wicked, it had been so much more. A revelation, a rare moment of bliss.

Jess pushed her empty cup away. “Yes, maybe. I don’t know. I kissed him. All right? I kissed him!” Confession was shockingly liberating, and yet the leers from the gentlemen seated at the table next to them quelled the pleasure of it.

“Do you want me to go with you to see Lady Katherine?”

“I’m not afraid of Kitty Adderly. Besides, I’m returning her money. She’ll surely be pleased.”

Alice looked dubious. “I hope you’re right.”

T
HE
A
DDERLYS’ DRAWI
NG
room was as cold and miserable on her second visit as it had been on her first. More so because Jess hadn’t allowed Alice to accompany her. But she couldn’t involve her in this business. Kitty might have presented it as charity, but her one hundred pounds represented a good deal more now.

Reaching inside her pocket, Jess pulled out the check and smoothed it across her lap, attempting to work out all the crumples and folds it had acquired since Kitty placed it in her hands two days before.

“And who might you be?”

Jess jumped and her back stiffened at the man’s imperious tone. She turned to glance at her questioner, but three heavy footsteps brought the older man into view. He was tall and elegant, handsome and beautifully attired, and he exuded an unmistakable air of authority. She’d expected Lord Grimsby to be intimidating, but he’d been encouraging compared to the man standing inches away, examining her and looking increasingly impatient for an answer.

“My name is Jessamin Wright, sir.”

She shot to her feet and nearly dropped the check before clutching it ungracefully against her skirt and remembering it was men who were to stand when women entered a room, not the other way around.

“And I am Lord Clayborne. This is my home, and I am not a sir. But you couldn’t have known that as we’ve never met.” The high-handed tone faded from his voice as he spoke, and he ended with a smile so warm and seemingly genuine that Jess almost forgot his earlier bluster.

“Please retake your seat. My guess is that you’re here to see one of my daughters.”

“Yes, my lord, Lady Katherine.”

He sat and crossed one slim leg over the other while he studied her, narrowing his eyes and reaching up to stroke his neatly trimmed beard.

“May I ask your business with my daughter?”

Jess began tapping her foot and pressed down on her knee to stop herself. What could she say? Before taking Kitty’s money, they’d barely exchanged glances at the Women’s Union meetings.

“We are members of the same ladies’ organization, my lord.”

The information seemed to shock him, though if Jess hadn’t been watching closely, she might have missed the twitch at the edge of his mouth and the moment of confusion that shadowed his gaze.

“I see. And what is the purpose of this ladies’ organization? Charitable ventures?”

Charity was certainly among the union’s initiatives, but they’d first come together over the cause of women’s suffrage. Based on the man’s surprise about Kitty’s involvement in the group, Jess hesitated to mention its political aims.

“We wish to see all women given the right to vote.” Speaking as she glided into the room, Kitty’s voice trailed like a ribbon of sound behind her.

She perched on the edge of a chair and beamed at her father, who’d begun to go slightly pink along his neck and forehead, as if he’d taken too much pepper in his soup, or swallowed a hot coal.

Kitty held her smile until her cheeks looked tight and unnatural. Her father’s color heightened, but he too tipped his mouth in a perverse semblance of a smile. Jess shifted her glance from one to other, wondering if a skirmish was about to commence in the middle of their pristine drawing room.

“I’ll leave you two ladies to carry on with your visit.” Lord Clayborne stood and patted his waistcoat before spearing his daughter with a final glance. “And do come and speak to me after Miss Wright departs, Katherine.”

“Of course, Papa.” Kitty watched the doorway for several beats after her father strode away before finally easing back into her chair and exhaling a long breath.

“Looks like I’ve frightened him off. Now we can breathe.”

She’d had her fair share of disagreements with her father, but Jess didn’t think they’d ever generated the sort of palpable tension she’d just seen flare between Kitty and Lord Clayborne.

When she met Kitty’s gaze, she felt a new understanding for the young woman, and a bit of sympathy she suspected Kitty would loathe.

“Thank you for seeing me, Lady Katherine.”

She shot one slim finger in the air. “Kitty, please. My father’s the one obsessed with titles, not me.”

“Kitty, then.” Jess no longer felt animosity toward Kitty. She attempted to convey warmth in her gaze, and Kitty’s mouth slid up into a tremulous almost-grin, as if she wasn’t trustful of kindness. “I’ve come to return your check to you.”

Kitty began shaking her head so emphatically the pearls around her neck clicked as they slid against the beading on her gown.

Jess pressed on to get past the most difficult part.

“I’ve lost my shop, and I’ll be leaving London.”

“Lost your shop?”

Tears, little pinpricks of moisture at the corners of her eyes, welled up, and Jess sniffed them away.

“Because of . . . what happened at the gallery.” She’d apparently caught a bit of Alice’s timidity and couldn’t bring herself to say the word, despite the fact she’d just shouted it several times in her favorite coffeehouse.

“You lost your shop because you kissed a man?”

It did sound implausible in Kitty’s incredulous tone. And yet Jess felt the truth of it, the grief of it fresh and heavy, like a substance she carried with her, weighing her down.

“Well, then you can’t give back the check. You’ll need those funds now more than ever.”

“No.” Jess thrust the check toward her, willing to leave it lying in the middle of the Adderlys’ beautiful Aubusson carpet if need be.

When Kitty hesitated to reach for the slip of paper, Jess leaned forward, lifting it up like an offering, flat in the palm of her hand. Other than the summer she’d caught the chicken pox, she’d never been more eager to be rid of anything in her life.

“Please, Kitty.”

The plea seemed to strike a chord. Kitty’s eyes softened and she finally lifted her hand to retrieve the check.

“What will you do now?”

Jess sighed, relief lightening her, before focusing on Kitty’s question. There was genuine concern in her tone, but Jess was reluctant to reveal the identity of her new employer.

“I’ve accepted employment with a noblewoman.”

“Goodness. You do rebound quickly.” Kitty looked truly impressed and Jess sat a little straighter in her chair.

“I’m made of stern stuff, or so my mother used to say.”

Kitty scrutinized Jess, assessing her much as Lord Clayborne had moments before.

“So it seems. Well, good luck to you. We’ll miss you at the meetings.”

Jess doubted Kitty would attend any more meetings than she had before their strange bargain, but she nodded and thanked her for her well wishes.

As she stood to depart, she gripped the chair’s arm, momentarily dizzy. Returning the check to Kitty was the last item ticked off her list before departing for Wiltshire and a different sort of life. The prospect of leaving London, the Women’s Union, and even Kitty, whom she barely knew, seemed daunting, heart-wrenching, despite her boast about being strong.

If Kitty noticed her distress, she didn’t let it show. She merely led Jess to the front door, where a maid appeared to help her into her coat.

The maid opened the door and Jess took the first step out before Kitty clasped her arm.

“Jessamin, I can trust your discretion, and Miss McGregor’s, regarding Grimsby, can’t I?”

Revealing her part in the scheme would be as mortifying to Jess as it might be damaging to Kitty, and that alone ensured her silence.

“Yes, of course. Who would I tell?”

Kitty’s full mouth tipped as if she was satisfied with Jess’s answer.

As she walked away from Clayborne House, one thought stalled in Jess’s mind. Would Kitty have looked as serene if she knew Lord Grimsby’s aunt would soon be her employer?