Mistress

by Amanda Quick

  “I know how difficult it is for you to abandon your own notions. Well, I’m certain that Masters will soon get to the bottom of this.”

  Iphiginia wrinkled her nose. “Goodness, such faith in his intellect and talents. There was a time not so long ago when you spent a great deal of energy warning me off him.”

  “I still think that he will break your heart, but in the meantime, perhaps he will also solve the puzzle.”

  “You are always so very practical, Amelia. It is one of your most endearing qualities.”

  They came to a halt in front of the narrow door. Iphiginia raised her hand to knock and then noticed that the door was ajar. A man’s voice, raised in blistering rage, boomed through the opening.

  “I demand to meet with the principals of this venture, d’ye hear me, Manwaring?”

  Iphiginia opened the door quietly. A large, thickset man was leaning over Adam’s desk. His face was contorted with anger. Adam sat quietly, his own expression one of cold disgust. Neither of them saw Iphiginia and Amelia in the doorway.

  “I have told you, that is impossible,” Adam said.

  “I insist upon it,” the stranger roared. He slammed his meaty fist down on the desk with such force that the wax jack and pens shuddered. “I insist upon being allowed to speak with them. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Iphiginia heard Amelia’s soft, choked cry of dismay. “Amelia?” Iphiginia touched her cousin’s arm. “Are you all right?” she whispered. Amelia did not answer. She stood stock-still, her attention riveted on the man who was pounding on Adam’s desk.

  “I’ve told you that the principals behind this speculation venture are not interested in including you in the pool, Dodgson.” Adam got to his feet, his jaw set as solidly as that of a bulldog. “And I told you the reason why.”

  “Lies. All lies told by a slut of a governess,” Dodgson howled. “I cannot believe men of the world would listen to the creature.”

  Amelia took a step into the room. Her shoulders were rigid. “They are not lies. You are a nasty, vicious man, Dodgson. You know it and I know it.”

  Dodgson whirled around. “Who the devil are you?” he demanded.

  “Don’t you even remember me, Dodgson? I’m Amelia Farley. At one time I worked as a governess. But now I make my living in a much different fashion.”

  Dodgson’s eyes glazed with the shock of recognition. He stared at Amelia, mouth agape. “It’s you. You’re the one who told the principals that I could not he trusted. How dare you? Why would anyone listen to you?”

  “Miss Farley is one of the principals of the investment pool,” Adam said with grim satisfaction.

  “I don’t understand.” Dodgson’s heavily jowled face swung back and forth between Amelia and Adam. “This is impossible.”

  “No, Dodgson,” Adam said evenly. “It is far from impossible. You will not he allowed to join the investment pool.”

  “On the word of this… this pinch-faced little lightskirt?” Dodgson bellowed. “You cannot be serious.”

  Adam rounded the edge of his desk, drew back his fist, and slammed it straight into Dodgson’s unsuspecting face.

  Dodgson shrieked with pain, surprise, and fury. He reeled back against the wall, clutching at his nose.

  Adam advanced on him with clenched fists. “One does not speak to a lady with such disrespect in my office.”

  “Damn you.” Dodgson examined the blood on his hands with horror and disbelief. “Damn all of you. This is a nightmare. I am to be ruined because of the whim of a silly little governess who should have been grateful that some man was willing to tumble her.”

  “I have news for you, Dodgson,” Adam said softly. “Financial ruin is not all you face. You will meet me at dawn tomorrow morning in the park. Name your seconds.”

  Amelia gasped. She gripped the handle of her parasol with such force that her knuckles went white. Iphiginia stepped closer to her.

  “Seconds?” Dodgson appeared dazed. “You’re issuing a challenge because of that ridiculous creature? This is insane.”

  “I shall expect to see you at dawn,” Adam said. “Or all of London will know you for the coward you clearly are.”

  “If you have not already chosen your own seconds, Manwaring,” Marcus said calmly from the doorway, “I would he honored to act as one of them.”

  “Marcus.” Iphiginia turned quickly. A rush of relief went through her at the sight of him.

  Marcus filled the doorway. His broad shoulders nearly brushed the sides. He was so tall that he’d been obliged to remove his gray, curly-brimmed hat.

  He studied the scene in the office with his usual unruffled air, but there was an ominous gleam in his amber eyes.

  Adam inclined his head brusquely in Marcus’s direction. “Thank you, sir. I shall take you up on your offer to act as a second.”

  “Masters?” Dodgson stared first at Marcus and then at Adam. “Have you both gone mad?”

  “No,” Marcus said. “But we are in danger of becoming quite bored. I suggest that you take your leave.”

  “An excellent notion,” Amelia said. “My friends and I have some matters of business to discuss.”

  Dodgson turned to her with a desperate look. “Amelia, for God’s sake, you cannot do this to me. There is too much at stake. Please, my dear, you must allow bygones to be bygones.”

  “Get out of here,” Adam said.

  Amelia looked at Dodgson. “You heard Mr. Manwaring. Remove yourself from these premises immediately. The very sight of you makes me ill.”

  “Amelia.” Dodgson went toward her as though to take her hands in his. “I cannot believe you would he so hardhearted. You were once such a sweet creature.”

  “Do not touch me.” Amelia stepped back quickly. “Do not ever touch me, Dodgson.”

  “You heard Miss Farley.” Adam came up behind Dodgson, grabbed him by the collar, and propelled him toward the door.

  Marcus politely got out of the way.

  Adam shoved Dodgson out into the hall and slammed the door.

  He turned and looked straight at Amelia. “I regret that you were obliged to come face-to-face with the bastard, Miss Farley. I assure you, it will be the last time.”

  Amelia stared at him. “Mr. Manwaring, you must not meet him tomorrow at dawn. I forbid it.”

  Adam gave her a crooked smile. “Think nothing of it. As it happens, I am a rather good shot. Hobby of mine, you know.”

  “But you might he injured. Even killed. Dodgson is a liar and no doubt a cheat. There is no telling what he might do in a duel. You cannot trust him.”

  Marcus stirred. “Do not concern yourself, Miss Farley. As Manwaring’s second, it will be my privilege to keep an eye on Dodgson. There will be no cheating.”

  “No,” Amelia blurted. “You must not do this, Mr. Manwaring.” She dropped her parasol and ran toward him. “You cannot risk your life.”

  She hurled herself into Adam’s arms. “It’s all right, my dear,” Adam said. He held her close. “I do not mind in the least.”

  “If it’s any comfort to you, Miss Farley,” Marcus said, “I believe that I can say with some certainty that Dodgson is highly unlikely to appear for his dawn appointment. I expect he will be halfway to Scotland by then.”

  Amelia raised her head from Adam’s shoulder. “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes.” Marcus smiled. “I really think so.”

  “I’d rather he showed himself,” Adam said. “I quite relish the notion of lodging a bullet in him.”

  “That is very gallant of you, sir.” Amelia blotted tears from her eyes. “But I fear I would be devastated if anything were to happen to you.”

  “Do you truly mean that?” Adam asked.

  “Yes.” Amelia gave him a tremulous smile.

  The two gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, oblivious of Iphiginia and Marcus.

  Iphiginia smiled to herself. She glanced at Marcus. I told you so, she mouthed silently. Made for each other.

&nb
sp; He raised one brow in silent acknowledgment.

  It suddenly occurred to Iphiginia that he had no business being there.

  “What are you doing here, sir?” she asked in a low tone.

  “What do you think? I came to request that I be allowed to purchase shares in the investment pool that is being formed to finance Bright Place.”

  She gazed at him in amazement. “You know about the pool?”

  He gave her a smile of superiority. “Of course.”

  “You know that Amelia and I are the principals?”

  “Naturally.”

  “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

  Marcus’s eyes were brilliant with amusement. “I believe in keeping myself informed on a wide variety of topics.”

  “He thinks he is so very clever,” Iphiginia grumbled an hour later as she and Amelia got out of the white and gilt carriage. “Quite arrogant about it, in fact.”

  “Who?” Amelia cast her a distracted glance as they went up the steps of the town house. “Masters?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, he is quite clever. What do you expect him to do? Conceal his intelligence? You rarely bother to hide yours.”

  “He could practice being a bit more discreet about it.”

  Amelia nibbled uneasily on her lower lip. “Personally, I pray that he is correct in his belief that Dodgson will flee rather than confront Mr. Manwaring at dawn.”

  Guilt swept through Iphiginia. Here she was complaining about a minor annoyance while poor Amelia was burdened with a very genuine fear. It struck her that if she were in her cousin’s shoes, she would have been hysterical.

  “I’m sure Masters has the right of it,” Iphiginia said soothingly as Mrs. Shaw opened the front door. “As I was just telling you, he is always right.”

  “Yes, I know.” Amelia seemed to take heart from that. Her face brightened a bit.

  Iphiginia smiled at her housekeeper. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Shaw. All is well?”

  “Aye, Mrs. Bright. Oh, that very nice Mr. Hoyt called in while you were out. He returned a book he said you had lent to him.”

  “Grayson’s Illustrations of Classical Antiquities, yes, of course.” Iphiginia untied her bonnet and handed it to Mrs. Shaw. “Anything else of import?”

  “No, madam. Everything has been very quiet.”

  “Excellent. Would you please send a tray of tea into the library?”

  “Immediately, Mrs. Bright.”

  “Thank you.” Iphiginia paused at the door of the library. “By the bye, you may expect both Mr. Manwaring and his lordship, the Earl of Masters, shortly before five o’clock. They will be calling to take Amelia and myself driving in the park.”

  “Very good, Mrs. Bright.” Mrs. Shaw smiled and went down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Iphiginia followed Amelia into the library. She glanced at the copy of Illustrations of Classical Antiquities on her desk as she sat down. Then she turned her attention to Amelia.

  “Try not to worry too much, Amelia. I trust Masters to know about these things. If he feels there will be no duel, then there very likely will not he one.”

  Amelia clasped her hands in front of her and stared out the window into the street. “I cannot believe that Mr. Manwaring actually challenged Dodgson because of me.”

  “I can. I have known for some time that Mr. Manwaring was quite enamored of you, Amelia.”

  Amelia slanted her a wryly amused glance. “As I noted a moment ago, you can be just as arrogant in your conclusions as you say Masters is.”

  Iphiginia chuckled. “Masters and I do have a great deal in common, do we not?”

  “Yes.” Amelia’s smile faded. “What are you going to do about him, Iphiginia? You know very well that you cannot go on forever as his mistress.”

  “I know.”

  The clatter of carriage wheels interrupted Amelia’s reply. The vehicle came to a halt in front of the town house.

  “I wonder who that could be,” Iphiginia said. “It is only three o’clock. Masters said he and Mr. Manwaring would not come by until five.”

  Amelia peered out the window. “I do not recognize the carriage. I cannot see who is getting out.”

  Iphiginia and Amelia waited expectantly as Mrs. Shaw responded to the knock on the front door. There was a murmur of voices in the hall.

  A moment later the library door opened.

  “Mr. Bennet Cloud is inquiring to see if you are at home, Mrs. Bright,” Mrs. Shaw said.

  “Good heavens,” Iphiginia muttered. “Marcus’s brother. I wonder what he wants. You’d better send him in, Mrs. Shaw.”

  Bennet, his expression grim and intent, appears the doorway. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Bright. Thank for seeing me.”

  “Come in, Mr. Cloud.” Amelia gave him a reassuring smile. “This is my cousin, Miss Farley.”

  “A pleasure, Miss Farley.” Bennet nodded to Amelia.

  Amelia stirred. “Perhaps you would prefer to be in private.”

  “If—if you don’t mind,” Bennet stammered. “I do not wish to be rude, but my business is of a personal nature.”

  “Of course.” Amelia walked out of the library and closed the door quietly behind her.

  Iphiginia folded her hands on top of her desk. “Won’t you have a seat, Mr. Cloud?”

  “What? Uh, no. No, thank you.” Bennet began to pace restlessly in front of her. “This is very awkward me, Mrs. Bright.”

  Iphiginia sighed. “Allow me to make it easier for as you no doubt wish to give me a long lecture consisting of all the many and varied reasons why I should not marry your brother. Rest assured, Mr. Cloud, that I am also aware of all those reasons.”

  “No.”

  Iphiginia blinked in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

  Bennet stopped his pacing and swung around to her. “I am here to tell you that I wish to withdraw all my objections to the marriage.”

  “You do?”

  Bennet grimaced. “Not that my brother would give a damn whether I objected or not. He always does as pleases.”

  Iphiginia stared at him with sudden concern. “Are you feeling well, Mr. Cloud? My housekeeper will be bringing tea any moment now. Perhaps a cup will tea revive you.”

  “Damnation, I do not need any tea. You must marry my brother, Mrs. Bright.”

  Iphiginia eyed him warily. “Why?”

  “Because I believe that he needs you.”

  “He needs me?”

  “Devil take it, how can I explain?” Bennet resumed his fevered pacing. “Mrs. Bright, I have known my brother all of my life.”

  “Obviously.”

  “But I have never fully understood him. Perhaps I never tried to understand him. He didn’t seem to require understanding, if you see what I mean.”

  “No, I do not.”

  “He was always there.” Bennet moved his hand in a vague, and encompassing motion. “Rather like a mountain or the sea or some other force of nature. Oh, he can he bloody stubborn and quite set in his ways. And he insists on living by his own damnable rules. But he has always seemed so strong.”

  “Being strong does not mean that one doesn’t need a bit of understanding from others now and then,” Iphiginia said gently.

  “I have recently begun to comprehend that.” Bennet reached a wall of bookcases, turned, and started back across the room. “Last night I realized that Marcus has depths that I have not, until now, even suspected existed within him. I recognize that he has certain needs. Needs which he believes only you can fulfill, Mrs. Bright.”

  “Masters told you this?”

  “In a manner of speaking. I gained the impression that he wants you very badly.”

  “In the same way that you want Juliana Dorchester?”

  “Good Lord, no, of course not.” Bennet scowled. “The feelings that I bear for Miss Dorchester are really quite extraordinary. I am in love with her, Mrs. Bright. And she is in love with me.”

  “I see.”

  Bennet was mo
mentarily overcome by his favorite subject. “Our mutual affection is characterized by sublime emotions and a truly metaphysical communion of the senses.”

  “How nice for you.”

  “There is a noble grandeur to our love that leaves me floundering for words.”

  “I had not noticed.”

  “She engenders within my breast the most elevated of passions.”

  “Quite understandable.”

  “Frankly,” Bennet concluded, “it is difficult to speak of Dorchester’s exquisite sensibilities, her refined mind, or even her gracious manner without resorting to poetry.”

  “Your feelings are, indeed, extraordinary. You do not believe your brother capable of such emotions?”

  “If he was ever capable of the more delicate and exalted emotions, his experience of marriage destroyed all such inclinations within him.” Bennet shrugged. “To be perfectly truthful, I am not certain he was ever the sort to surrender to the higher sentiments. His is an intellectual nature, you understand.”

  “Yes.” Iphiginia propped her chin on her hand. “Forgive me, sir, but your change of heart on the subject of your brother’s marriage has left me somewhat confused.”

  “It is important that you marry him, Mrs. Bright. Please believe me. I would not be here today if I did not think that it was a necessity. I think it should he a quiet wedding. Special license, preferably. You will not want a formal engagement of the sort that Miss Dorchester and I intend to have.”

  “You’ve asked Miss Dorchester for her hand?”

  “I’ve spoken to her about it. I’m pleased to say that we have agreed to announce our betrothal at the end of the Season. We shall be married in the spring. Miss Dorchester and I wish to spend the next few months becoming better acquainted with each other. And there are so many plans to be made, you know.”

  “Yes, of course.” Marcus would be relieved, Iphiginia thought. He had at least bought some time for Bennet to make certain that he was doing the right thing.

  “She was willing to elope with me,” Bennet confided proudly. “During that brief span of time when she thought I would have nothing, she said that she would go to Gretna Green with me. She loves me as much as I love her.”

  “I believe she does. I have met her, you know.”

  “Have you?”