Miss Fortune's First Kiss (Fortunes of Fate Book 9) Page 2

  “You girls ought not to have left your father’s side. I would be devastated if Peaches ran away from me, absolutely heartbroken. I imagine your father felt even worse.” Both girls nodded solemnly.

  She glanced back at him, but only for a moment, taking the opportunity to lift Peaches from Althea’s arms and inspecting the knot on the leading string. “Now that these two are safe and sound, Peaches and I had best be on our way. You two girls be good.”

  And then one more glance in his direction. “Your daughters really ought to have a nanny, or a governess. They’re naturally curious and a good teacher will keep their minds occupied and less likely to find trouble.”

  Jasper straightened his spine, irritated at being advised by a perfect stranger. Not that it was any of her business, but a new governess awaited the girls in London. What manner of idiot did she take him for?

  He merely tipped his hat. “Nonetheless, madam, I thank you for your assistance.”

  She held his gaze, only for a moment. Her lips parted as though she had something more to say, but then closed tight again.

  She nodded. “You are quite welcome.”

  And then, after allowing the girls to say goodbye to her absurd excuse for a dog, head held high with that ridiculous hat, she marched away from them all.

  Jasper’s gaze followed the motion of her hips until they disappeared into the throngs of carnival merrymakers. Busybody or not, there was something about that woman…

  Chapter 2

  Reminiscing

  Holding both his girls’ hands, Jasper shook off the sense of melancholy threatening to settle over him.

  “We’d best get back to the carriage now.” He’d had enough of this particular village and its carnival.

  “But Papa, we only just arrived!” Eloise complained.

  “You girls took ten years off my life for disappearing like that.” Jasper experienced very little trouble in most aspects of his life; when not managing his girls, that was. With this in mind, he scowled down at his daughters.

  And it made no difference to the little imps whatsoever.

  “It wasn’t my fault. I simply had to go after Althea. Would you have preferred I didn’t bother following her? We might have lost her forever, Papa! But if that’s what you’d prefer…” She shrugged innocently and batted her lashes at him.

  “You should simply have told me.”

  “But you were speaking with Coachman John.”

  It seemed he could never win any arguments with Eloise. Closing his eyes briefly, he summoned an added measure of patience. Jasper loved his daughters more than anything in the world, if something were to happen to one of them… He swallowed hard and secured his hold on each tiny hand.

  Intent on getting them back to the safety of the carriage, he took a deep breath and then careful not to loosen his grip, began ushering his two escape artists between the cacophony of exhibits and tents.

  “A penny to hear your fortune!” A woman draped in colorful scarves beckoned to passersby. He lengthened his stride, practically dragging the girls beside him. The woman lifted her hand and pointed. “You, sir. Wouldn’t you like to know what lies ahead for you and your daughters?"

  Utter nonsense.

  And yet, a chill ran down his spine.

  And of course, Eloise began jumping up and down. “Do it, Papa! And then we can leave! Look at her dress. Isn’t it pretty? You need to find out what our futures are, Papa. And then can we get a puppy? One like Peaches?”

  Althea remained silent but tugged at his other arm. He paused in his steps and exhaled a long slow breath.

  Daughters.

  The fortune was only a penny. If he appeased them in this one thing, they could then be on their way.

  “We’ll do the fortune, but not the puppy.”

  Eloise squealed and Althea frowned.

  The fortuneteller waved them over to a smaller tent. It had a banner with the words ‘Madame Zeta’ hung across the opening. As they followed her, the scent of burning incense met his nostrils and his eyes required adjusting to the dim light inside.

  He ought not to have given into Eloise.

  Again.

  “Sit here.” She pointed out a chair for him and another for the girls to share. Both of his daughters appeared quite fascinated by the woman, with all her rings, and earbobs and necklaces. Her eyes, a greyish blue color, contrasted vividly with the woman’s dark skin and black hair peeking out from beneath her scarves. Candlelight flickered eerily, creating long shadows on the tent walls as a gust of wind shook the transient structure.

  “What is your necklace?” Eloise pointed toward a charm hanging on the longest chain around Madame Zeta’s neck.

  The woman smiled at his daughter, however, and held the charm out to Eloise and Althea for closer inspection. “It was given to me by my Mama, when I was your very same age.” And then she pointed out the circling lines and swirls. “It is the path of life and it is a secret charm for ladies.”

  More nonsense.

  When she spoke the words, she stared across the room at him. “Fate reveals choices to all of us. Our fortune awaits us in the path we take.” Her voice had lowered, with a hint of some accent he didn’t recognize.

  “It’s pretty.” Eloise spoke the words in awe. Althea watched the woman with wide eyes. Likely now, the fortune teller would offer to sell it to him. She probably had dozens of others hidden away.

  Enough was enough. He began to rise.

  “You, sir.” She paused for dramatic affect. “Give. Hand. Now.”

  Shaken by her bold declaration, he nonetheless held out his hand for her to take. She trailed her gnarled finger along his palm and then closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

  “The secret to finding your future lies in the fortune you lost in your past.”

  She dropped his hand as though it had suddenly turned to fire.

  He’d managed to do nothing but amass tremendous wealth over the entire course of his life. Unwilling to waste any more time, he stood and reached into his pocket to withdraw a few coins. “We thank you for your time, Madame Zeta.”

  And for once, the girls did not resist him as they exited back into the sunlight and walked the distance to the travelling carriage awaiting them.

  “What’s fate, Papa?” And, “Did you really lose something in your past?”

  “Fate is for people who fail to order their own lives to their betterment.” He answered Eloise’s question. “And no, I’ve not misplaced a fortune. Unless you count my daughters, who are forever getting themselves lost by running off without permission.”

  He lifted her into the carriage and turned back toward his other daughter.

  “Papa, when can we get a dog?” Eloise seemed to have forgotten that he’d already given her an answer. She’d become quite good at that, forgetting his answer when it wasn’t the one she wanted to hear.

  “Let’s get you a governess, first, shall we?”

  Tilde stared out the carriage window at the passing scenery.

  For all of thirty seconds, she’d wondered if there had been some truth in the fortuneteller’s words.

  But of course, there had not been. He was obviously married.

  She had nearly said something––in that last moment––to remind him, but then caught herself. It would have been embarrassing if he had failed to remember her, even after prompting. Then again, there might have been even more embarrassment if he had, in fact, remembered. She hadn’t exactly behaved demurely that night. Heat seeped up her neck at the memory.

  He’d demonstrated no signs of recognizing her. Perhaps she been mistaken? After all, eleven years was a very long time. Was it possible she’d incorrectly assumed a similar looking man was him? She’d been prompted by the fortuneteller to recall her first kiss and he had most certainly been foremost in her mind. Had she simply erroneously assumed the first man to come along was Jasper Talbot? One evening. She’d known him for but a matter of a few hours. It was possible, she supposed. />
  But not probable.

  More likely, Althea and Eloise’s father was one of Jasper’s relatives; a cousin, or brother perhaps. That would explain the strong resemblance.

  But no.

  Deep in her heart, she knew she had not been mistaken.

  His voice. His eyes. The way her heart skipped a beat at his touch.

  He could only be Jasper. He’d simply failed to remember her.

  A wheel hit a rut and she clutched the leather strap on the wall tightly.

  Tilde sighed. Life was like that, filled with ruts and bumps one simply needed to endure. The young ladies she had been charged with for the past several years had grown. They no longer required a governess. In a gesture of appreciation, Lord and Lady Brightly, her former employers, had been quite kind in providing transportation so that she hadn’t been obliged to take the mail coach.

  She wondered if she’d ever see the family again. She might, she supposed. Anything was possible…

  Over the past decade, she’d occasionally allowed her mind to conjure the memory of that night. She’d always speculated where Jasper’s life had taken him, whether or not he’d found happiness.

  Or if he was even alive. For all she knew, he could have perished in the war, or taken ill. It wasn’t as though she’d ever heard from him again…

  She chuckled to herself.

  She had not been mistaken.

  He was most definitely alive. And more handsome now than before. The line of his jaw had grown firmer. His arrogance had matured as well.

  She released a melancholy sigh.

  He’d been brashly confident eleven years ago, in a young, almost impatient, sense. Now his arrogance had hardened into that of a man who knew himself.

  And yet.

  She’d thought she’d recognized sadness in his eyes. Eyes mirrored in his daughters’ faces.

  Twin girls. One confident and talkative, and the other quiet and shy. The three of them together seemed… lost.

  As though sensing her thoughts, Peaches edged up from her lap in order to nuzzle Tilde beneath her chin. She dropped a kiss upon the soft short hairs of her faithful companion’s head.

  The entire scenario of events had been quite unfortunate.

  She grimaced at the irony. An unfortunate fortune for Matilda Fortune.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Matilda.

  She straightened her spine. Self-pity never proved to be anything but an exercise in futility and she refused to take part in it.

  She’d spent the past decade shaping the lives of three lovely girls. She had the honor of teaching them, and then watching them blossom into beautiful young women. The time had come, however, to move onto something different, to embrace a new future. Already, the employment agency said they had a most enviable position available. They’d said her references were impeccable. The Baroness had sent them a glowing recommendation.

  And next week she would interview her new potential ‘family.’ If they failed to meet her standards, she’d simply inform the agency and await another opportunity. She knew of her worth, what with many of her ladyship’s acquaintances having attempted to lure her away. Tilde would not enter a situation that wasn’t a good fit.

  Before taking up her new position, however, she would spend some treasured time with her aunt and the eldest of her three younger sisters, Betsy.

  Her other two sisters, Chloe and Charlotte, were currently at Miss Primm’s Ladies’ Seminary. When Chloe graduated, she’d been offered a position straightaway as a teacher. Charlotte, not quite seventeen, remained a student.

  Betsy was only two years younger than Matilda. She acted as companion for Aunt Nellie, who’d taken all of them in upon their parents’ death.

  Tilde looked forward to simply being at home, with no responsibilities, for all of five days. She could visit a few museums, see the menagerie, and sit in Hyde Park late in the day and quietly observe the members of the ton fawn over themselves. People watching was one of her favorite pastimes while in London.

  And then a thought struck her.

  It was quite possible that Jasper Talbot would be one of them.

  Before she’d realized that it was he, she’d guessed Althea and Eloise’s parents to be peers of some sort. And this time of year, all the peers who wished to be seen were returning to London for the Season.

  It was possible he’d inherited a title of some sort and if that was the case, he’d move socially amongst the crème de la crème. He certainly exhibited the arrogance of one of London’s elite.

  Eleven years ago, he’d simply been Mr. Talbot to her.

  Jasper.

  She and her parents had been invited to join one of her father’s friends for an evening at Vauxhall. They’d crossed to the Gardens via boat, and Tilde had been in more than a little awe over the flowers, the music, and the ubiquitous colorful lanterns. And of course, the people, from all walks of life.

  Her father hadn’t been wealthy, but he’d been a landowner and wasn’t a pauper either. Unfortunately, his wife had only presented him with daughters. His four little misfortunes, he used to joke. When he and her mother had been killed, their small estate had passed to Father’s younger brother, Mr. Colin Fortune. A most disagreeable man.

  A great deal had changed after her parents’ death.

  Feeling the loss of long ago, Tilde dipped her chin and kissed the top of Peaches’ head.

  That spring had most certainly presented Tilde and her sisters with their fair share of bumps and ruts, or more aptly, mountains and canyons.

  The high point for Tilde, indeed, had been meeting Jasper and experiencing her first kiss.

  Sitting in their host’s supper box in the midst of all that was pleasurable, she and Jasper had noticed one another before even being introduced. She’d only pretended to eat the strawberries and thinly shaved meats after catching him staring at her more than once. Never had she met a more dashing gentleman––in all of her seventeen years.

  She’d been unable to keep from staring back.

  And eventually, he acknowledged interest. A slight upturn of his lips. A smile.

  She’d blushed and dipped her head, but then glanced up again, and returned an oh, so very demure smile in his direction.

  He’d been a handsome young man but there had been something else… Something almost magical. In the midst of the fairyland setting, she’d felt as though an imaginary spider was weaving a silken web around the two of them, leaving neither the choice but to eventually come together.

  Chaperones had been lax as the evening wore on. When he’d asked her if she’d like to go walking, she’d eagerly accepted. She’d not taken his arm, she remembered, but walked alongside of him with her hands behind her back.

  Neither had seemed to notice the various vendors along the way, or the music, or the dancers. They took turns asking one another questions, but the answers didn’t really matter. All that had mattered was the thick attraction building between them.

  It had felt like a physical thing.

  Tilde hadn’t thought of it for a long time, but even now, years later, she remembered the weight of it.

  They’d been destined to come together.

  To kiss.

  And at the time, she’d thought… so much more.

  Jasper stared out the window as his elegant coach rambled into the heart of London. The girls were both sleeping. Eloise was on the rear facing bench, and Althea was beside him, resting her head on his lap. He abstractly threaded his fingers through the downy softness of her hair, black, identical to his.

  How had he not recognized her right away? Tilde. Matilda. She’d been introduced to him as Miss Fortune. At Vauxhall, just a few weeks before he’d met Estelle.

  Had she remembered? Or had he merely seemed familiar to her, as well.

  Eleven years.

  A lifetime.

  He recalled that he’d considered her beautiful. She hadn’t been, even then, but she’d affected him as no other woman up until t
hat point in his life.

  She had been pretty, but it had been her eyes that captured him. Smiling, mischievous and daring eyes––so out of place on the face of a young debutante. She’d not been forward, nor acted inappropriately in any way. She’d merely had this look to her… As though daring life to upset her joy.

  They’d walked together through the lantern-lit paths.

  He smiled sadly to himself. Throughout the course of one’s youth, a person happens upon magical moments without realizing how uniquely special they were. That was how he remembered that night.

  As he’d grown older, he’d dismissed it as something nonsensical. There had been champagne and wine, yes, but he’d had his wits about him.

  She’d taken his arm when he turned them onto a darker, less travelled path. And he’d flirted with her and teased her about her name.

  Miss Fortune.

  “Matilda,” she’d said, “but my friends call me Tilde.”

  “Tilde then. And you must call me Jasper.”

  He shook his head at his impetuous attitudes back then. His own wife had hardly ever referred to him by anything other than Willoughby. And his closest of friends, called him Will. He’d come into the title while still in school. It had been freeing to cast the mantle away for a night. To have a pretty girl like him, not the earldom.

  He’d thrilled when she’d tested his name on her lips.

  Jasper.

  Had she recognized him today? Surely his appearance wasn’t so very greatly altered.

  Eleven years. Ah, but yes, a lifetime ago.

  Tilde had crossed his path like a mirage. He’d kissed her. Oh, yes. He’d led her into the dark forest and then off the path altogether. She’d leaned against the smooth bark of a tree. She’d not been acting coquettish, no, they’d been enjoying one another’s company.

  Immensely.

  And then he’d covered the empty space between the two of them and placed his hands on the tree, above her head. Both of them had stared into one another’s eyes, not touching, but… feeling. Feeling the visceral energy sparking between their bodies.