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Synopsis
Yvette Hamilton knows just what she wants for Christmas--a dazzling marriage. And if marrying the ton's catch at the height of the Yuletide season is how she can prove herself, she'll be the most respectable of the many ladies competing for his hand. But one accomplished rake has other, much more tempting ideas. . . The illegitimate son of a duke, Lord Jeffrey Eddington knows society will never truly respect him. He thought he'd found acceptance as a friend of the Hamiltons, but Yvette's seeming snobbery makes him wager to win her hand no matter what it takes. Too late, he finds her frivolity conceals an intelligent, appealing woman. Now they face a hard choice between the holiday dreams they think they want most. . .and the very real love they can't resist. Praise for the Novels of Kaitlin O'Riley "O'Riley's believable, charismatic characters and fast-paced plotline set this novel well apart from the usual romance fare." -- Publishers Weekly (starred review) on When His Kiss Is Wicked "This lovely story makes the most of the warmth and joys of the holiday season." -- Library Journal on It Happened One Christmas
Release date: October 1, 2013
Publisher: Zebra Books
Print pages: 352
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His By Christmas
Kaitlin O'Riley
September 1878
“Will you do me a favor, Jeffrey?” asked Lucien Sinclair, the Marquis of Stancliff.
“That depends entirely on what it is.” Lord Jeffrey Eddington smiled lazily at his oldest and closest friend. He settled into the large leather armchair, stretching out his tall form and placing his feet upon an upholstered footstool, quite at home in Lucien’s grand study. “It’s good to be back!”
“It’s good to see you here again,” Lucien said. “Everyone has missed you.”
“Of course they have.” Jeffrey had spent the better part of the last year in France on business and had just returned to London. “So,” he prompted Lucien, “this favor of yours . . . what is it?”
“It’s rather important. . . .” Lucien hesitated, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Something only you can do for me. And I need your utmost discretion.”
“Sounds serious.” Jeffrey’s blue eyes narrowed and his lazy smile disappeared.
Lucien began reluctantly, “It is.... And I’m not quite sure how you’ll feel about it.”
“Go on then.” Jeffrey inclined his head.
“I need you to keep an eye on Yvette while we’re in America,” Lucien asked.
Jeffrey blinked. “You’re jesting.”
“I wish I were.” Lucien’s mouth formed a grim line.
“I don’t understand.” Jeffrey sat up, suddenly not as comfortable as he had been. “Isn’t she going to New York with you and Colette?”
Frowning, Lucien shook his head. “I would much rather she come with Colette and me, but Yvette is quite determined to stay in London without us.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Jeffrey wondered at the wisdom of allowing Yvette Hamilton, the youngest of the five sisters, to remain at Devon House without her family. It was unthinkable. “You should insist that she go with you.”
“Believe me, I have tried, but you know Yvette as well as I do.” Lucien sighed in heavy resignation. “She can be headstrong, like all the Hamilton women. Being the youngest, she’s used to getting her own way. And she has made up her mind to stay in London and my wife has given her permission to stay. Naturally, I can’t fight them both. Yvette’s not foolish, but I don’t like leaving her behind.”
“But who will be here with her? Who will look after her?” Jeffrey asked, incredulous at this turn of events. They couldn’t simply leave the girl alone!
“Well, Paulette and Declan are in Ireland until Christmas as usual, so Mrs. Hamilton has agreed to come up from Brighton to stay with her daughter here at Devon House. That way Yvette will not be unchaperoned at home. As much as I don’t care a great deal for them personally, the girls’ aunt Cecilia and uncle Randall Hamilton have agreed to escort her to any social events. They are actually looking forward to it, with the hope of arranging a successful match for her. And of course, Lisette and Quinton are in town as well, but with Lisette just having had the baby, they won’t be much help on that score.” Lucien paused, giving his friend a pointed look. “You understand what I’m saying, Jeffrey. I need someone here who will know what is truly going on.” He flashed a knowing glance in Jeffrey’s direction. “Keep an eye on her.”
Yes, Jeffrey knew exactly what his friend meant. It had been the same with all the Hamilton girls, this quintet of lovely women who had become like his very own sisters. In one way or another Jeffrey had been there to protect each of them over the years and they had grown to trust him. Oh, the stories he could tell Lucien! But since he was a gentleman, and he loved each one of the girls dearly, Jeffrey would never betray their trust by telling anyone what he knew about them.
Now Yvette was the last unmarried Hamilton sister and she would more than likely need the most looking after. With her soft blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, pretty little Yvette had always been a charming, flirtatious, and social creature seeking out grand, romanticized ideals and splendid dreams. She wanted to live her life as a princess. Yet after a Season or two she still remained inexplicably unattached. Jeffrey wondered at the reasons for that. Why hadn’t his little Yvette married already? Why hadn’t some eligible nobleman snatched her up and made her his wife? She would be an asset to any man, for Yvette was very beautiful, well educated, and utterly charming.
Although he hadn’t seen her for the last few months, he had known Yvette since she was a young girl and had always thought her the most striking of all the Hamilton sisters.
Having just returned to London that morning, after spending the better part of the last year working in France, the very thought of reuniting with everyone at Devon House tonight had kept his spirits up while he was away. This wonderful family, his family, meant more to him than any of them realized. And Yvette . . . well, little Yvette Hamilton had a special place in his heart.
“Do you know why she’s so insistent on staying in London?” Jeffrey asked.
“No.” Lucien gave him another knowing look. “But I’m sure you’ll find out what her reason is before long. Or who.”
“So you do think there is someone in the picture then?”
“That would be my guess.” Lucien shrugged helplessly. “But she hasn’t mentioned a word to me about him. Or Colette for that matter.”
Now that was surprising news. Yvette had always been quite keen on romance and most vocal about her romantic pursuits. Why was she keeping it such a secret now? What had happened? And who could have captured her attention enough for her to pass up a transatlantic trip to visit her sister in New York? It was quite unlike Yvette. Was there a valid reason for her secrecy? Could she have fallen under the spell of a gentleman unworthy of her? Perhaps someone with an unsavory background or a man with questionable honor?
Someone had definitely caught Yvette’s interest and in his mind the need for concealment did not bode well. A twinge of worry coursed through Jeffrey, though he was reluctant to mention it to Lucien. There was no need to make the man more anxious than he already was about leaving his youngest sister-in-law behind.
“You’ll do it, then?” Lucien asked.
“Yes, of course, I’ll look after Yvette,” Jeffrey promised. He could not refuse his childhood friend. He and Lucien had looked out for each other since they were young boys at Eton, bonding over the unhappiness that was rife in both of their families. They were as close as any brothers could be. He would do anything for Lucien.
Besides, Jeffrey could never ignore one of the Hamilton sisters, least of all sweet, little Yvette. He would readily and gladly give his life for any of them. In all honesty he would have watched over her even without Lucien asking him.
“Thank you,” Lucien said with relief in his voice as he handed Jeffrey a glass of bourbon. “Here,” he added with a rueful laugh. “You’ll probably need this.”
“You’re the one going to visit Juliette. You’ll need it more than I,” Jeffrey retorted with a wicked grin. “Hell, take the whole bottle.”
Jeffrey and Lucien laughed together, for Juliette Hamilton had given them both cause to lose sleep at one point or another. However, the second Hamilton sister had calmed considerably since marrying Captain Harrison Fleming and happily settling down in America.
“No, my friend.” Lucien’s face turned serious. “I’ll leave this for you. I’m not sure what she’s up to, but if anyone can drive a man to drink, it might just be Yvette.”
Jeffrey was inclined to agree in spite of himself. “You’re more than likely right about that.” The girl was too pretty and too romantic to be trusted to act rationally.
“Whatever you do,” Lucien added with a note of solemnity, “don’t let Yvette know I asked you to do this. Be subtle in your watching over her. Anything heavy-handed and she’s likely to rebel out of sheer stubbornness.”
“I’m not an idiot, Lucien. She is the fifth Hamilton sister, and not my first go-around. Didn’t I manage to help get the others safely married? I know how to handle this situation.” At least Jeffrey thought he did. He was like Yvette’s older brother, for Christ’s sake. He could handle a little girl like her. “You and Colette should enjoy yourselves in America. Don’t give another thought to what’s going on here. I’ll make sure Yvette stays out of harm’s way and doesn’t do anything too foolish.” Jeffrey raised his brows in mock alarm. “Although if she takes after her older sisters, I can only hope whatever she does isn’t as drastic as any of their adventures were.”
Lucien smiled at Jeffrey. “Just try to keep her from doing anything reckless. Quinton will do the best he can also, but he’s preoccupied with Lisette and the baby. Colette and I will be home in time for Christmas. Just keep her safe until then.”
“That’s three months,” Jeffrey said.
“I have complete faith you can handle things until then.”
Jeffrey paused in thought. “So do you have any idea who he is?”
Lucien sighed in weariness. “Look at her. It could be any one of a dozen young men. I’ve had offers of marriage for her from some of the best families and she has turned down each one, most graciously. Flowers and cards arrive for her on a daily basis. She is flooded with social invitations. I can’t keep them all straight. Colette and I have escorted her to more parties, balls, and soirees than I can count, where she is sought after by all the young gentlemen, and yet she favors no one in particular that we can see. Here I thought all along she would be the easiest of the sisters to marry off, with her always dreaming about romance and princes and such things. Now her second Season has come and gone. She’s almost twenty-one. What is she waiting for? Someone has caught her fancy, I’ll warrant, but I can’t figure out who he is. Honest to God, I won’t rest easy until this girl is safely married.”
“How we’ve managed with the other three sisters is a miracle in itself.”
Lucien raised his glass. “You said it.”
Jeffrey asked, “Is Colette worried?”
“Not in the least. But then she’s not a man and doesn’t see the world the way we do.” Lucien shrugged in disbelief. “Please don’t mention to her that I’ve asked you to do this, by the way. This is just between us. And Quinton.”
Jeffrey nodded. It was good to know he’d have a ready ally in Lisette’s husband if he needed one.
“Thank God I have only sons,” Lucien groaned. “I don’t know how I’d go through this again if I had daughters of my own.”
Laughing, Jeffrey agreed with him. “Daughters would no doubt kill you, my friend.”
“Don’t I know it?” Lucien took a swig of his bourbon. “Send word of any important developments, would you?”
“Of course.”
The door to Lucien’s study opened and Colette Sinclair, Lucien’s wife, entered the room. The oldest of the Hamilton sisters, and the reason why Jeffrey was considered a part of this family, Colette was a strikingly beautiful woman. With her coffee-colored hair and deep blue eyes, she carried herself with a regal bearing. She was the epitome of the wife of a marquis. One would never know that she had grown up working in a bookshop.
“Hello, darling—oh, Jeffrey! You’re here!” she declared with delight as Jeffrey hugged her tightly. “You’re home! When did you get back?”
“Yes, I’m home!” Jeffrey echoed happily. “I just arrived.”
“And we’re leaving,” Colette said with a sudden frown. “It’s too disappointing! We haven’t seen you in months and months and now we’re going away. I don’t like that at all. But look at you! You grow more handsome as you age, Jeffrey Eddington. It’s entirely unfair!”
“You look more beautiful every time I see you, Colette!” He flashed her a smile.
“And you still know how to turn a girl’s head.” Colette laughed and placed a kiss on his cheek. “You’re joining us for supper, aren’t you? We need to catch up on all the news. And you must see Phillip and Simon. You won’t believe how much our boys have grown since you’ve been gone! Oh, and my mother’s here and will be thrilled to see that you’re here too! You know how much she loves to see you!”
“I’m very happy to be here with you all again.” Jeffrey found he couldn’t stop grinning. He had been away far too long and he had missed this family. His family. The family that had embraced him as one of its own.
And, yes, now he was home again.
Yvette Hamilton glanced around the glittering ballroom in annoyance. Where had that man gone now? She’d lost track of him when she had been cornered into discussing the merits of gardening with the overbearing Mrs. Ashby, who also talked endlessly about her only son. Yvette had no interest in Mrs. Ashby’s prominent-toothed boy. No, she had set her sights on someone much higher than that. But somehow she had managed to lose him!
And the last thing she intended to do was to lose him.
With hurried steps, she moved through the crowded and festively decorated ballroom, carefully making her way toward the exit, while she nodded and smiled in greeting to everyone she knew.
“Kate, did you happen to see where Lord Shelley went to?” she whispered to her dearest friend and the only other person who knew of her secret dream.
Lady Katherine Spencer glanced around with her big brown eyes. “I’m not entirely positive, but I think he went that way a few moments ago.” She gestured to the arched doorway leading to the hall. “But you mustn’t chase after him, Yvette!”
“I’m not chasing after him,” she protested heatedly. Yvette never chased after any man. Or at least it never looked that way. Lord Shelley must have gone to the card room. Perhaps she should linger in the hallway for a little while and just happen to be there when he returned. “I simply wondered where he had gone is all.”
Kate gave her a skeptical glance, her freckled face looking a bit amused. “Don’t worry though. Your competition, Jane Fairmont, is over there dancing with Lord Calvert.”
Yvette spied her rival and then relaxed knowing that the girl was not with Lord Shelley either. Yvette had worked too hard to gain favor with the most eligible bachelor in all of London to lose him to the likes of Jane Fairmont.
“I wasn’t worried really,” Yvette murmured to her friend. “Simply curious.”
“I don’t know why you’re throwing yourself at Lord Shelley when there are dozens of handsome men who would die to marry you.” Kate gave her an exasperated look.
“I am not throwing myself at him. Honestly, Kate! You know me better than that. And I have explained all of this to you before. It’s quite simple. Lord Shelley will be the Duke of Lansdowne when his father passes away.”
In Yvette’s eyes, there was no need to say more. She had longed for an opportunity like this her whole life. Nothing could be more romantic than marrying a duke and becoming a duchess! To be considered important and grand. To be a stylish and elegant lady, admired by all. Lord Shelley was able to give her the title that would allow everyone to call her Your Grace. No one could deny her significance then.
At almost twenty-one years of age, Yvette would be entering her third Season next spring. She should be married by now for heaven’s sake!
It wasn’t from a lack of offers. That was most definitely not the case. Yvette had been the toast of her first Season and again in her second. She had been practically drowning in proposals from fine young gentlemen from good families with excellent prospects, and even a few from those of questionable standing in society. She could have been satisfied with any of them as her husband.
But she was not.
She wanted something more. Something romantic and dramatic. Something quite special and exceptionally wonderful. Something her older sisters didn’t already have. As the youngest of five sisters, Yvette had watched each of her siblings marry in thrilling and dramatic ways, being swept off their feet by romance, head-over-heels in love with dashing husbands who adored them.
Yet, after two Seasons and a few stolen kisses, she had not encountered anyone who made her feel the way she believed she ought to feel. Not one single man had captivated her with his charm or enchanted her with his being. Her heart had not been stolen by a good-looking rogue, nor had she been swept off her feet by a handsome, dark-eyed stranger. Yvette was beginning to fear romance and adventure would never happen for her. Weary of waiting for something dreamy and magical to happen, she had decided to pursue her own romantic dreams instead. Yvette had her sights set on making the most brilliant match she could.
And what was more brilliant and romantic than a handsome duke?
She wasn’t bold or brazen enough to think she could snare a prince, even though two of Queen Victoria’s sons were still unmarried. But as luck would have it, earlier that summer she had met William Weatherly, Marquis of Shelley, Earl of Cheshire, and best of all, the future Duke of Lansdowne. Handsome and distinguished, Lord Shelley had been traveling abroad for several years, and having just returned home, he was now in the market for a wife, his future duchess.
The competition for his attentions had been quite fierce all summer long, for a prize such as Lord Shelley was rare indeed. But as summer turned to fall, Yvette had emerged as one of his favorites, and she had become determined to win him over. Her hope was to be his by Christmas, which gave her only three more months to win over and become affianced to the handsome Lord Shelley.
“Oh, here comes your future duke now,” Kate whispered with a conspiratorial giggle. “I shall leave the two of you alone. Good luck!”
Her loyal friend fled the scene just as Lord Shelley arrived at Yvette’s side.
“As usual, you are looking quite lovely this evening, Miss Hamilton,” he said. A warm smile lit his face.
“So you tell me every time I see you, my lord.” She cast a flirtatious eye around the ballroom, as if she had already tired of him, and fluttered her new lace fan, which matched her elegant, rosebud-pink silk gown with lace edging. Acting a bit unattainable had been her strategy with him from the start. Lord Shelley was an attractive and powerful gentleman accustomed to having women fall at his feet. Yvette refused to be one of them.
Lord Shelley whispered close to her ear, “That is because I can think of nothing else but your beauty when I look at you.”
A thrill of delight raced through her and Yvette tallied his compliment to the growing list she kept in her head to mark her progress with him. Although Lord Shelley as yet had not shown her any more attention than he had to the other girls, Yvette sensed a subtle change in his behavior. One by one, the young ladies vying for his attentions all summer had fallen out of favor with him, leaving only Yvette and her greatest rival, Jane Fairmont, left to battle it out.
Yvette was quite determined that she would win her romantic ideal in the end. It was the reason she had refused to accompany Colette and Lucien to America. She simply could not leave London now, not when she was so close to taking serious steps forward with Lord Shelley. Through single-minded perseverance and much cajoling on her part, she had somehow managed to convince them to let her stay. So she remained in town, while her sister, brother-in-law, and nephews had set sail across the Atlantic the day before. Yvette was free to pursue her dream of becoming the next Duchess of Lansdowne.
Now Yvette turned and gazed into Lord Shelley’s thoughtful hazel eyes, which had been giving her quite intent stares of late, she had been pleased to note. With fair hair, almost silver in color, William Weatherly was a very good-looking man, despite his maturity. She guessed he was close to forty years old but wasn’t certain of his exact age. Always clean-shaven, he had straight teeth, a well-proportioned nose, and a strong jaw. He was muscular and taller than average height, but his title and position added to the powerful air about him. His good-natured charm and dashing manner appealed to her. He looked the epitome of a duke and all the girls were mad for him.
“You are very kind, my lord.” She cast her eyes down at his second compliment.
“I confess that I am very happy to see you here tonight.”
“I wasn’t sure if I could manage to attend at all. My aunt and uncle were escorting me this evening and my aunt was not feeling well,” Yvette said.
“I would have been very disappointed had you not been here, Miss Hamilton.”
She glanced up at him with an indulgent smile. “I am happy to save you from such disappointment then, my lord.”
“As am I.” His eyes twinkled at her. “It’s rather warm in here. Are you thirsty, Miss Hamilton? May I get you something to drink?” he asked.
“Oh, that would be quite nice. Thank you very much.”
“I shall return to you shortly.” Lord Shelley walked off toward the refreshment area and Yvette watched him make his way through the crowd.
How positively wonderful! He would have been disappointed not to see her! She could barely contain her excitement at his confession.
Kate hurried back to Yvette’s side as Lord Shelley disappeared into the dining room. Her friend asked, “So, how is it progressing this evening?”
Yvette grinned, pleased with her evening’s endeavors. “I believe quite well, Kate. Quite well. He’s coming back with punch.”
Kate’s freckled face wrinkled in amusement. “Really, Yvette, I don’t understand why you’re in such a rush to marry him.”
Yvette remained silent for she could not quite put into words why she felt such a need to hurry or why she had chosen Christmas as a goal for herself. But she just knew that if she became a duchess her life would instantly change for the better. She would lead society and host the most fashionable parties and events. She would wear the most stylish clothes. Everyone would love and admire her. Being married to a duke would be the most romantic thing that could happen to her.
“If I were you, I’d try for Lord Eddington,” Kate continued in a voice full of utter longing. “He’s the most dashing gentleman I’ve ever met. He’s the one you ought to marry, Yvette.”
Yvette laughed at the absurdity of such a prospect. “Lord Eddington? I could never marry him!”
“Why ever not? He is so devastatingly handsome and charming. He’s terribly rich too. And he’s known to have made all the ladies swoon. You know what they say about him . . .” Kate gave a little sigh and fluttered her fan.
“Putting aside the fact that he’s been like a brother to me, he’s . . . he’s . . .” Yvette struggled to find the proper words.
Yes, Jeffrey Eddington was indeed all of the things Kate had said. He was also funny, sweet, and unfailingly loyal. In fact, he was quite dear to her. Yvette had to admit that he held a special place in her heart. He had been a part of her life since she was a young girl and she could hardly recall a time when she had not known him. But as for marriage? To Jeffrey Eddington? It was completely ridiculous!
“I know you used to be sweet on him, Yvette.”
She paused. Perhaps she had nursed a childish infatuation for Jeffrey years ago, but as a mature woman of almost twenty-one she had quite outgrown such juvenile illusions. “Well, I was a silly little girl then. Besides Jeffrey is not what one would call marriage material.”
“Is it . . . is it because he’s a . . . he’s a . . . he was born on the wrong side of the blanket?” Kate asked in a furtive whisper.
It was common knowledge in society that Lord Eddington was the illegitimate son of the Duke of Rathmore and a ballet dancer. Although the duke had long ago claimed Jeffrey as his son, no one ever forgot he was illegitimate.
“Well, yes . . .” Yvette responded, wondering why they were discussing this at all. “Besides I can’t very well marry Lord Eddington if I wish to become a duchess, now can I?”
“How are you enjoying the ball, Yvette?”
At the sound of a very deep familiar voice, Yvette’s heart raced as she turned in his direction. There stood the very subject of their conversation, Lord Jeffrey Eddington, and from the look on his face, Yvette was fairly certain he had heard everything she had just said.
“Oh, Lord Eddington!” Kate’s freckled face turned a deep shade of scarlet. “Good evening!”
“Jeffrey!” Yvette cried out in surprise. Fluttering her fan as if she hadn’t a care in the world, she murmured, “I didn’t know you were in attendance this evening.”
“I only just arrived. And here I find the two prettiest girls in London standing alone among the potted plants. How is such a thing possible?” He gave them his signature heart-melting grin, completely ignoring the fact that he had just overheard them gossiping about him.
It was so utterly Jeffrey to save them from embarrassment that Yvette wanted to hug him, in spite of her own feelings of discomfiture. Looking up at him, she could not deny that Jeffrey Eddington was an exceptionally handsome man. Tall with broad shoulders and hair the color of ebony and clear, deep blue eyes, he was muscular and strong, wearing his evening clothes with careless elegance. His classically sculpted, clean-shaven face had a devil-may-care allure that caused women to swoon when he looked their way. But now he was looking at Yvette with an intense gleam in those eyes and she felt unexpectedly warm.
“We’re very happy that you’re here now to keep us company, Lord Eddington,” Kate said with a tone in her voice that Yvette had never heard before. “I fear we have been quite bored so far this evening.”
Why, Kate was flirting with Jeffrey! Yvette struggled to contain her giggles. Levelheaded Kate, who was already engaged to her childhood sweetheart, looked about ready to swoon at Jef. . .
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