Once Upon a Christmas Kiss (10 page)

Her breathing hitched at the thought. “That would certainly undo all our hard work to save my reputation,” she said with a soft laugh.

“Only if we were caught.” His grin was unrepentant.

“Very well, let’s change the subject,” she said. “I hate to bring it up, but I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything more about my accident?”

Though she’d listened out for any more mention of her fainting spell or, worse, of the speculation about what had caused it over the course of last evening and this morning, she’d heard nothing to indicate the identity of who was responsible for the prick in her arm. And Cordelia, whom Winnie had filled in on the actual circumstances behind her fall on the ice, had heard nothing either.

It had been impossible to get near enough to Lucien last night to confer with him, so she was reduced to questioning him on the way to the village.

“Not a word, I’m afraid,” he said with a frown. “And I’ve been listening. I even played three rounds of billiards last night on the off chance that one of the gentlemen would reveal something. But doubtless because they know I would put a bullet in anyone who said anything like what Mrs. Cowper reported, there was silence.”

“I can’t help but feel that we should do something else to provoke them,” Winnie said with a sigh. “At least when they’re upset there’s a chance they’ll reveal themselves.”

“I won’t have you making yourself a target, Winnie,” Lucien said in a low voice. “Even if we never learn who it is behind these incidents, at the very least you’ll be safe.”

“But what if they try it with someone else?” she hissed. “I couldn’t live with myself if they harmed someone else simply because I was too craven to unmask them.”

“It’s not a question of fear,” he said firmly. “It’s about safety. Who’s to say that it won’t be actual poison next time? Or something worse than a spill on the ice.
I’d
never forgive myself if I let you get yourself hurt while you’re under my protection.”

“I’d be careful, Lucien,” she said, stroking the back of his hand, since there was no other way she could calm him given their public location. “But I promise not to take any unnecessary risks. Besides, I cannot think that this game has ended. So we’ll just need to be patient and wait for them to reveal their hand.”

Just then their sleigh pulled up before Lindhurst’s Dry Goods, so any further opportunity for discussion was cut short.

Accepting Lucien’s hand as she stepped down from the carriage, Winnie allowed him to lead her into the shop, which sold all manner of things from flour and salt to fabric and ribbons. Once inside, however, she pulled free, saying, “I shouldn’t like to keep you from your own shopping. I believe there is one gift in particular you wished to purchase?”

She thought he would object, but to her relief Lucien nodded, saying, “Alright. But try to keep one of the others in sight. In a little while I should like your opinion on the best gift for Helen. I never seem to know just what to buy her.”

“Already buying gifts for other women, I see,” she said with a grin. “Though I suppose I can help with that one. In a bit. For the time being, be off with you!”

When he’d gone, she gazed avidly at the goods displayed in the little shop. It was unremarkable, really, when compared to other stores of her experience. But in honor of the holiday, the shelves were festooned with bright red ribbon, and Lindhurst must also sell spices because the air was redolent with a delicious cinnamon and cloves, reminding her of the Christmases of her childhood.

Wandering among the bolts of fabric and spools of ribbon, she searched until she found a shelf of scents and cosmetics and various other unguents and lotions, along with a few handkerchiefs for both men and ladies. Her sister, she knew, was fond of verbena scent, and to her luck, Lindhurst stocked Cordelia’s favorite brand. When Winnie noticed that there was also a goodly selection of men’s scents and shaving supplies, she chose a small container of sandalwood scent and a handkerchief for Lucien.

Carefully removing the stopper on the bottle, she closed her eyes and lightly inhaled. There it was, she thought with a smile as she closed it again. The fresh masculine scent that she’d noticed on first meeting him that day in the Duke of Ormond’s drawing room.

She’d come across sandalwood before, of course—it was quite popular with gentlemen of the
ton
—but there was something about the way it smelled on Lucien that made her heart beat faster, that made her want to bury her face in his neck and pull him closer.

It was attraction, yes. Maybe even lust. But it was also something more. Some primitive need to keep him close. She’d never felt anything like it. And she very much worried that it signified must stronger feelings for him than she was ready to admit to.

“It’s just a bottle of scent,” she chided under her breath when her thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. If she let herself go on for too long, she’d soon find herself waxing rhapsodic over the memory of the embroidered handkerchief he’d let her use once, and the glint of sunlight on his hair.

As if she’d conjured him from thin air, at that moment she heard Lucien’s voice. Stepping back a little, she saw him on the other side of the shop chatting with Mrs. Fowlkes, who seemed to be having trouble making a decision between two scarves.

And that, she realized suddenly—more important than scent, or looks, or charm—was what drew her to him. That Sir Lucien Blakemore, handsome enough to tempt any woman, rich enough to shun anyone he disliked without fear of social recriminations, should speak civilly with someone as unpleasant as Mrs. Fowlkes was extraordinary.

Her father had once said that the true measure of a man wasn’t how he treated his friends, but instead how he treated his enemies. Mrs. Fowlkes wasn’t his enemy per se, but she certainly wasn’t a friend either. And though Winnie was clear across the room, she knew that Lucien spoke just as cheerfully to Mrs. Cowper’s sister as he would to the Duke of Ormond or to Lady Helen.

He was just that kind of man.

Was this what it was like, she wondered? To fall in love? She’d always thought it was something that happened all at once. Now she was inclined to see it as the gradual build of a hundred tiny moments: a caress on the hand, a sigh, a stolen kiss. But not just moments between the two of them. Add in a kind word to an elderly lady, a helping hand for a neighbor in need, thanks for a job well done to a tired servant—there were so many small things that made her fall for him. Too many to count. Suddenly her heart was near to bursting with it.

She felt him staring at her in that way that they had. She looked up, and Lucien caught her gaze with a questioning look. When she only shrugged, he winked before turning back to Mrs. Fowlkes.

Realizing that she should stop mooning over him and make her purchases before he broke away from Mrs. Fowlkes and found his surprise, Winnie took her choices to the sales counter and asked Mr. Lindhurst to wrap them.

Still wanting to get something else for Cordy, she had just turned her attention to some sheet music when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Well, I might have known I’d find you here. Spending his money already I suppose?” Turning, Winnie saw Mrs. Green standing behind her, arms akimbo as she glared.

“Mrs. Green,” Winnie said coolly. “As pleasant as ever, I see.”

“Don’t play the proper lady with me, Winifred,” the matron hissed. “You’re not a great lady yet. And won’t ever be if I have anything do with it.”

Winnie’s heartbeat quickened. Was Mrs. Green actually confessing here for all to hear? “I think that’s not for you to decide.”

“Oh, do not underestimate me, young lady,” the other woman said with a scowl. “It would only take a few words from me in the right ears to see to it that your reputation is ruined forever. And then where will your Sir Lucien turn? To my daughter, if I have anything to say about it.”

“I am quite impressed with your confidence in your own powers of manipulation,” Winnie responded tartly, “but I must assure you that your confidence is misplaced. For even if you were to succeed in staining my reputation, there is no possible way that Sir Lucien will ever cry off based on what you or anyone in this village says. Much less marry your daughter. He’s not as easily led as you might wish.”

“He is a man, isn’t he?” The older woman’s mouth twisted with contempt. “They’re all easily led. And once I make the truth about both you and your slattern of a sister known to him, he’ll wash his hands of the Nightingale sisters completely.”

It was one thing for this harpy to insult her, Winnie fumed, but to slander Cordelia was beyond the pale. “What did you say about my sister?” she demanded through clenched teeth, stepping closer to Mrs. Green whose eyes widened in the face of Winnie’s fury.

Even so, she did not back down. “You heard me. It’s not as if it’s a great secret. They’d seen her plying her tricks on Mr. Beesley.”

“My sister and Mr. Beesley are in love,” Winnie said hotly. “And once they are wed, I think you’ll find it quite difficult to hold up your head in this village. Much less find husbands for your passel of daughters. So I’d learn to curb my tongue if I were you.”

“Love?” Mrs. Green laughed scornfully. “Wanton lust more like. She’s corrupted that poor man to the point he no longer knows who his real friends are. It’s disgusting!”

They would have gone on, but Mr. Lindhurst, perhaps hearing their rising voices, hurried over. Winnie realized that she’d been arguing in public like the veriest fishwife. What would her mama have said? Or Lucien for that matter? She felt a blush of shame rise in her face.

“Ladies, is there anything amiss?” Mr. Lindhurst asked with some diffidence. “I would be more than happy to show you the new fans we just got in from London. Made of the finest ivory and silk.”

“Stop hovering, Mr. Lindhurst,” Mrs. Green said sharply. “We are having a polite conversation. That is all.”

“I’m afraid that’s not quite what I overheard.” Winnie turned to see Lucien approaching. But to her relief, all his contempt was for Mrs. Green. “I think perhaps it would be best if you were to purchase whatever you came for and leave, Mrs. Green. And if you persist in your public slander of my affianced bride and her sister, I will see to it that you and yours are made to feel the sting of my cousin’s censure. Not to mention the
ton
’s
.
”

Winnie couldn’t help but feel gratified at seeing Mrs. Green’s eyes grow wide with alarm. She might not feel any respect for Winnie, but the horrible woman definitely stood in awe of Sir Lucien. “Well, of course,” she said hastily. “I … that is to say … I mean, of course I have no wish to insult you, Sir Lucien. This is all a misunderstanding, I assure you.”

“And I can assure you that what you call a misunderstanding sounded very much to me like an attack,” he said coldly. “And I protect my own, madam.

“Did you perhaps have anything to do with the threat my fiancée received the other night?” he demanded. “Or her fall on the ice yesterday?”

Winnie watched the other woman closely to see if there were any sign of guilt in her countenance, but Mrs. Green’s mouth formed an “O” and her face paled. “Of course I didn’t!” she said, clearly shocked at the accusation. “We all know that she fainted because she’s with—”

A knot formed in Winnie’s stomach. Was the woman really voicing her disgusting speculation in public?

Perhaps seeing the fury on Lucien’s face, Mrs. Green amended, “Because she was feeling poorly.”

“And I know nothing of a threat,” she continued, looking sincerely flummoxed at the notion. “I may be unhappy with the way she has conducted herself,” she said, in a bit of understatement, “but I do not conduct my business in secret.”

Despite her dislike of the woman, Winnie had to admit that her denial had the ring of truth to it. Beside her, she felt Lucien give a frustrated sigh. “I appreciate your candor, Mrs. Green,” he said grudgingly. “But if I do learn that you had anything to do with either Miss Winifred’s accident or the threatening note she received, then you bear an even greater burden of my displeasure than if you continue your public shaming of her. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” she said resentfully. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must find my daughter.”

“No doubt to tell her gleefully about my receipt of a threatening note and the orchestration of my accident,” Winnie said once the other woman had gone.

Turning to Lucien, she continued. “I am grateful you arrived when you did, for I thought myself on the brink of doing her bodily harm.”

“You’re lucky her grating voice carries so well,” he said, tucking her hand into his arm as they went to the counter to pay for their presents. “And that I was the only other customer in the shop. Else both her accusations and word of your altercation would have been all through the village.”

Winnie colored. “I am ashamed of myself for losing my temper like that. If one of my pupils had done such a thing I’d have blistered their ears with a scolding.”

“Do not be too hard on yourself,” he said patting her arm. “Men have been provoked into duels by lesser annoyances.”

She was grateful for his reassurance, but felt guilty all the same. However, dwelling on it would do no good, so she moved on to what Mrs. Green had said. “Did you believe her? About my fall and the message, I mean?”

“I did,” he said with regret. “I really thought she was one of the most likely culprits, but unfortunately, her reaction was just too candid to ignore. There was no hesitation, and I think she was genuinely shocked about the message. For all that she clearly wished she’d thought of them first.”

She gave a sigh of disappointment. “That’s what I thought too, though I was hoping you’d read her answers differently.”

“We will find them, Winnie,” he said, turning to look her fully in the eyes. What she saw there was sympathy mixed with grim determination. And something else that she wasn’t quite ready to think about just yet. “I am sure of it.”

Smiling, she nodded. “I think so too. I just hope we can manage it before too long. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder.”

“Why don’t we go collect your gifts from Mr. Lindhurst and make our way to the inn,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ravenous.”