The Hotelier's Bride (The Balfour Hotel Book 2) Read online

  “Emmeline, this is unnecessary.”

  “Mother does not seem to think so,” Emmeline insisted, and he found himself marveling at her unabashed insistence.

  “Mother should be here herself if the matter is so important to her. Where is the infant?”

  “With the nanny. Catherine will fare well without me for a short luncheon.”

  “I would rather you did not…”

  He had barely gotten the words out when the double doors opened and two manservants entered in a bustle of trunks.

  Xavier and Emmeline exchanged a look.

  “Could they have arrived?” Emmeline asked, but her brother was already moving toward the outdoor rotunda to look onto the path below where a coach and six had appeared.

  Mother was right—it is quite difficult to overlook such a display.

  A handsome woman stood smartly at the base of the steps, a broadly brimmed hat shielding her face from the shocking February sunshine. She seemed to be examining the five stories of the hotel with impassioned eyes, and she had yet to see Xavier standing on the stone just to the right of her sightline.

  That would be the duchess, he thought, his eyes darting about to seek out her daughter.

  “Oh my,” Emmeline breathed at his side, and he turned to look where she did. With the same emotion that he had heard in his sister’s voice, Xavier’s heart seemed to cease its beats when his eyes fell upon who could only be Lady Elizabeth Burnaby.

  A thick, woolen cloak of blue accented the porcelain of her delicate skin. Despite the distance between them, Xavier could see the gleam of long, black curls bouncing slowly as Elizabeth looked about with awe in a pair of wide, smoky eyes.

  “She is breathtaking,” Emmeline murmured at his side. “I find myself envious of such a complexion.”

  Xavier could not tear his gaze away, and slowly, Elizabeth’s eyes rested on his face.

  A shadow of surprise covered her eyes, and for a peaceful, strange moment, Xavier thought all else had disappeared. There were only two of them in the world, and they were lost in one another.

  “Xavier, you must attend to them,” Emmeline whispered, shattering the short spell that had fallen between her brother and the duke’s daughter.

  “Yes,” he mumbled. “Of course.”

  Offering Emmeline his arm, the two glided down the steps toward the new arrivals. With great effort, he directed his words to the matriarch, difficult as it was when he could feel Elizabeth’s eyes upon him.

  “Welcome to the Balfour Hotel, Your Grace, Lady Elizabeth,” he offered genially, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth. “I am Xavier Balfour, and this is my sister, Mrs. Emmeline Compton.”

  Xavier bowed graciously.

  “Mr. Balfour, Mrs. Compton.”

  The duchess gave him a quick appraisal before nodding.

  “I daresay, I was expecting your mother, Mr. Balfour.”

  “You must forgive her absence, Your Grace,” Xavier replied smoothly, well-accustomed to making excuses for Anne’s endless absences. “She is unwell.”

  The look that the duchess and her daughter shared was not lost on Xavier, yet neither made a comment on the matter.

  “Do come in and out of the cold,” Emmeline suggested, disentangling her arm from her brother’s. “I will arrange to have your trunks brought to your suite. I hope you will find our hotel accommodating.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said, speaking for the first time, and the husky sound of her voice again caused Xavier’s heart to flutter. “I am certain we will find all we need here.”

  Once more, the duchess and Elizabeth shared a private look, but Xavier barely noticed. His pulse raced erratically through his veins in a way he had never known.

  Perhaps this marriage would exceed his expectations after all.

  Chapter Three

  “What is keeping you, Lise?” Patience demanded. “We are expected in the dining room.”

  Lise stood before the vanity, examining her reflection with a scrutiny she did not recognize.

  Am I as beautiful as his eyes told me?

  The memory of Xavier’s bright green irises boring into her was not one she was apt to forget. Had there ever been another to give her such a brazen yet intense look?

  What does he see?

  “My word, Lise! Vanity is a sin!” the duchess snapped. “Have you had quite enough of gawking at yourself?”

  A blush of humiliation flooded Lise’s cheeks, and she turned to her mother.

  “I was merely ensuring I look presentable,” she replied meekly.

  “You were sure a quarter hour ago. Moreover, you could wear a sack of potatoes and that fool would not be the wiser.”

  More heat tinged Lise’s face.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  Patience scoffed lightly and unavoidably examined herself in the glass.

  “Dismissed,” she told the two maids hovering nearby, and the women disappeared without a word, leaving the mother and daughter alone in their spacious suite.

  While Lise had never had occasion to sleep in a hotel, she admitted that it was quite lavish. Certainly, it exceeded what she had envisioned.

  “I am not blind, child. I saw how he looked at you,” Duchess Holden said sharply, and Lise’s ears heated at the reminder.

  “I did not notice,” Lise fibbed, and Patience whipped her head to stare at her daughter with knit brows.

  “You did, and you requite those sentiments. Not that I fault you—Anne Balfour did not lie; her son is quite dashing, even for a dandyish fop.”

  “He is not a fop!” Lise protested before she could stop herself.

  “Aha!” the duchess growled. “So I am correct. You find him charming.”

  “I find him nothing!” Lise wished she could contain the passion in her voice, but it appeared to be beyond her control. “I have not forgotten why we have come, Mother.”

  Patience stared at her for a long while, her mouth pinched in at the sides.

  “There is no harm in feeling warmth for him, Lise,” her mother said quietly. “In fact, I would much prefer it for your task. It would make the ordeal so much less daunting if you like the man you are to wed.”

  Lise lowered her eyes and stared at the white gloves on her hands.

  “However,” Patience continued. “You must not grow too attached.”

  “I am aware, Mother.”

  Patience paused.

  “Lise, if you do not wish to proceed with this, I will understand,” her mother said quietly. “It is unfair that you should carry the burden of such a task on your shoulders alone.”

  Lise raised her head and stared intently into her mother’s sad eyes.

  “No, Mother,” she sighed, shaking her ebony tresses, one rogue curl falling against the pale skin of her cheek. “This is our burden to bear together. I will not change my mind on the matter.”

  A soft, melancholic smile touched the duchess’s lips, and she nodded slowly.

  “You are a good daughter, Lise, but I oft wish you had been born first and a male.”

  “There is little I can do to change God’s will, Mother, but I will do whatever I can to protect you.”

  “It is a mother’s duty to shield her young from the hardships of life.”

  “We are nobility, Mother,” Lise commented with sardonic dryness. “We are not supposed to know hardships.”

  “Yet we do, do we not? Better than most, I would say.”

  Despair swept through Lise, but she was determined not to show her mother her sadness.

  “You need not concern yourself with my affections for Xavier Balfour,” she assured her mother, “for I have none.”

  If possible, the duchess seemed more crestfallen by the announcement, but she fronted a brave smile.

  “Shall we go?” Patience asked, and Lise could see she was eager to shift the conversation.

  “Yes,” Lise agreed.

  The dining room was surprisingly full for the off-season, and Lise found herself wondering from w
here all the upperclassmen had come. She could not reconcile why so many finely dressed ladies and gentlemen flocked to the somewhat obscure location of the hotel.

  Some faces were vaguely familiar as she looked about. Certainly, the Balfour Hotel catered only to the highest echelons of society, and that fact both alarmed and pleased Lise in unison.

  She mentioned her concerns to her mother.

  “Surely we will be recognized, even here,” she muttered as they were guided to the family’s table where Xavier, Emmeline, and another two men waited for them with barely disguised patience.

  “You need not concern yourself with the duke,” Duchess Holden told her softly. “I have explained that we will be grooming you for marriage.”

  Lise’s eyes widened. She had not known that the duke knew that much.

  “The Balfours,” Patience breathed, and Lise raised her eyes as they neared the table at the guide of the maître d’.

  “Your Grace, Lady Elizabeth,” Xavier announced, rising with the men in unison. “Permit me to introduce my father, Mr. Charlton Balfour, proprietor of this fine establishment. Father, may I present, Patience, Duchess of Holden, and Lady Elizabeth Burnaby, her daughter.”

  “Charmed,” Patience said, nodding politely at the man.

  “Please to make your acquaintance,” Lise breathed as the men bowed.

  “You have already met my sister, Mrs. Emmeline Compton,” Xavier continued, and his face hardened as he introduced the last man in improper order. “This is her husband, Mr. Elias Compton.”

  “My husband also holds shares in the hotel,” Emmeline offered, and Xavier’s scowl deepened.

  There seems to be some animus. I wonder if that will help us or hurt us.

  Elias seemed unperturbed by Xavier’s curt and somewhat inappropriate introduction, and he bowed to the ladies where they stood.

  “Welcome to the Balfour Hotel, Your Grace, my lady.”

  Xavier gestured for everyone to sit, and the waiters held chairs for the newcomers to join the table.

  “Your hotel is quite charming, Mr. Balfour,” the duchess offered as wine was poured. “Our accommodations were precisely as Mrs. Balfour promised—exceptional.”

  Charlton Balfour’s chest puffed out with pride, and he nodded.

  “It has been in our family for generations,” Charlton explained. “We take great pride in this structure.”

  “Until now,” Xavier muttered almost under his breath. No one seemed to hear his offhanded remark but Lise, and that was merely because she had been unable to tear her eyes from his face.

  I must stop staring at him so brazenly. He will think of me as some fallen woman.

  She darted her eyes away and tried to heed the conversation around her, but inevitably, her stare would fall on his face, and he would meet her eyes, too.

  “Where is the Duke of Holden?” Charlton asked quite pointedly, and Lise wrenched her face toward her mother’s expression. It was alarming how easily she maintained her stoicism, despite the way her heart must be racing.

  “He has urgent business in London,” she explained, reaching for her glass. “He sends his regards, of course. And how is Mrs. Balfour?”

  She asked with such smooth transition, Lise marveled at her flawless manner of reversing her discomfort on the Balfours. Simultaneously, the family looked away in a breath of discomfort.

  “She has a delicate disposition,” Charlton offered tersely, and Lise did not need to be told that her initial impression of Anne Balfour had been accurate.

  She is a drunk. How unfortunate for the family.

  Yet she knew better than to judge the affairs of another family, not when her own house was in such disarray.

  “I do hope she recovers well,” the duchess replied, sitting back as a plate was delivered to her setting.

  “She will,” they chorused and exchanged embarrassed looks. Once more, Xavier’s eyes fell on Lise, and she reddened slightly.

  “How long will you stay with us?” Emmeline asked, apparently hoping to shift the conversation. “There is much to do in Luton despite the frigid temperature.”

  “That would depend on Mr. Xavier, I imagine,” Patience replied, lowering her fork. “How long will it take for him to fashion a proposal?”

  The gasp of surprise over the table was warranted and included Lise. She cast a furtive look at Xavier, who seemed taken aback by the bluntness of the duchess’s words.

  “Forgive me for speaking so freely,” Patience said, although there seemed to be not an iota of contrition in her tone. “I fear we have wasted much time seeking a proper match for Lady Elizabeth, and I would rather not do away with more. If there is an interest, the duke and I would see her betrothed sooner rather than later. None of us are growing any younger.”

  “O-of course, Your Grace,” Xavier sputtered, eyeing his father for assistance, but Charlton seemed just as dumbfounded by the sentiment spilling from the duchess’s lips. “I-I had only hoped to have some time to know Lady Elizabeth beforehand.”

  “That is why we are here,” Patience reminded him. “That does not discount the fact that we cannot remain here forever waiting on your decision.”

  Xavier paled, and Lise immediately sensed danger.

  Oh, Mother! You are putting far too much pressure on the man!

  “I would not mind staying here forever,” Lise offered quickly, and all eyes were on her. She cast a warm smile about the table, again locking her gaze with Xavier’s becomingly. Her insinuation was not lost on him, and the mild expression of panic began to fade from his face.

  “Perhaps, Lady Elizabeth, I could give you a personal tour of the hotel when we have finished our meal?” Xavier asked, and her smile broadened.

  “I would enjoy that, Mr. Xavier,” she replied.

  “Excellent,” Patience declared as if they had announced their betrothal. “You two will know one another and conclude this business.”

  “If I may ask, Your Grace, should these nuptials occur, will your husband be in attendance?” Charlton asked, and Lise’s smile fell off her face as though it was made of unsecured wood.

  There was something in the proprietor’s tone that was rank with wariness, but the unflappable duchess either did not hear it or ignored it.

  “Mr. Balfour, I need not tell you the ways of men’s work. Certainly, he would not wish to miss the wedding of his only daughter, but if the crown calls—of course, it is duty first.”

  “Indeed,” Charlton murmured.

  “Shall we make a toast?” Elias asked, raising his glass, and Lise was grateful for his untimely offer.

  “Yes,” Xavier agreed, clearly eager to be rid of the smothering tension about them. “I would like to toast Her Grace and the enchanting Lady Elizabeth. May our friendship be long and fruitful.”

  “Hear, hear,” the others chanted, nodding in approval as the glasses clinked.

  Lise watched Xavier through her peripheral vision, and he did the same. With trembling hands, she pressed the crystal wine goblet to her lips and permitted the sweetness to warm her belly.

  It may not be a long friendship, she thought. But I am sure I will find it fruitful.

  Chapter Four

  The midday meal seemed to linger on for hours, the tantalizing idea of escorting Elizabeth through the halls of the hotel causing Xavier to lose focus on anything else.

  He could plainly see that she was just as captivated by him as he was by her.

  At long last, the plates were cleared, and Xavier could barely contain himself from rising as he nodded toward Elizabeth with his arm outstretched.

  “Will you allow me a tour?” he asked again, and she blushed against the fabric of her silk gown bewitchingly.

  “Yes, of course,” she murmured, rising from the chair as young Joshua held it for her.

  “Mother, will you escort me?” Elizabeth asked, but the duchess shook her head.

  “No, my dear. Take a handmaiden.”

  Elizabeth seemed surprised but also pleas
ed, and she stepped toward Xavier as a servant hurried after them at a comfortable distance.

  “Thank you for such pleasant company,” Elizabeth told his family, the gentlemen rising to see her off. “I look forward to spending more time with you.”

  “The gratitude is ours, Lady Elizabeth,” Charlton assured her and bowed. “I hope you will find all you seek here.”

  “She will,” Xavier replied, surprising even himself with the bold statement. He held out his arm for her to take, and she accepted it graciously.

  “I will spare you the staff quarters,” Xavier chuckled. “I imagine there is nothing there that appeals to you.”

  “I am certain they are lovely,” Elizabeth answered, smiling. “But I would not wish to interrupt the work of the servants.”

  “My sister spends a great deal of time on the subfloor with the employees.”

  “You do not sound impressed by her altruism.”

  “It is not altruism,” he grunted. “She thinks of them as our equals.”

  A delicate eyebrow rose.

  “Is that so?”

  Xavier went on quickly, sensing disapproval.

  “You must understand,” he rushed onward, “we have known much of the staff since infancy. Their fathers served us and their father’s father.”

  “I do understand,” Elizabeth replied with pensiveness. “There is a staff of over two hundred at Pinehaven. I, too, know the feeling of kinship among the servants and their children. I am simply stunned to learn that others share my feelings. I know no other noblewomen who enjoy the company of their underlings.”

  “Pinehaven?”

  “Our manor house,” she said quickly. “Forgive me, I forget you have not been.”

  “I hope I will one day,” Xavier told her. “If only to see a manor house of such splendor.”

  He felt her arm tense against his, and for barely a second, she seemed to pause in the lobby.

  “It is no larger than this hotel,” she replied lightly. “I am certain you would be disappointed.”

  Xavier turned to face her squarely, and she was surprised by his direct stare.

  “I daresay, Lady Elizabeth, I have known you for mere hours, and I find it difficult to believe that anything about you could be disappointing.”