My Fair Mistress

by Tracy Anne Warren

  She and Maris exchanged hugs and kisses, laughing to be once more in each other’s company after so many months apart.

  “Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you!” Maris said, her face wreathed in smiles. “I’m so glad you could spend Christmas here with William and me. I suppose we could all have stayed with William’s parents at their estate, but the house is so very full of family and I thought it would be cozier this way. The four of us will drive over tomorrow for a fine Christmas dinner and games afterward.”

  Maris broke off, darting a glance toward Rafe, who stood not far from the coach. “But la, listen to me rattle away. Come, introduce me,” she urged, threading her arm through Julianna’s. “I still cannot believe you are married. Your letter gave me such a shock when it arrived.”

  “I can well imagine,” Julianna said as she let her sister lead her forward. “Maris, this is Rafe Pendragon. My husband.”

  Releasing Julianna, Maris reached up and welcomed Rafe with a familial hug, which he returned with a gentle pat against her back.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Waring,” Rafe said.

  “Gracious, you must call me Maris. We are siblings now and cannot possibly stand on ceremony.”

  A genuinely warm smile curved over Rafe’s lips, his face brightening to devastating effect. “Of course not. My apologies, Maris.”

  A small frown settled over Maris’s slender brows. “Have we met before?”

  Rafe cast a quick glance toward Julianna, then shook his head. “Not to my knowledge, no.”

  “You seem familiar somehow…Oh, good heavens, the bookstore! He’s the one, isn’t he, Jules? The handsome one we saw?”

  Count on Maris to remember such a thing, Julianna thought.

  “Is that how you two met?” Maris clapped her hands together. “Did you see each other again another day, and couldn’t resist the chance to meet? How divine! You must tell me everything.”

  Julianna refused to look at Rafe. “Yes, well, perhaps we might do so inside. It’s a clear day but still cold.”

  “Forgive me, I’m just so excited to see you both. Come in and we’ll have hot tea before you go to your room. And William should be along any minute. He is down at the stable. One of the horses is in foal.”

  As if her words had spurred him on, boot heels crunched against the paver stones, Major Waring emerging from around one of the large hedgerows that sheltered the house on the north side.

  With his appearance, another round of introductions was made.

  “How is Marigold?” Maris asked as the four of them walked into the house.

  William grinned. “She’s a proud mama and doing well. The colt is gorgeous and strong. You must come down later to see them both.”

  Removing her cloak, Julianna took a moment to look around.

  Though not nearly as grand as Allerton Manor, Maris and William’s two-story Georgian house was both pleasant and pretty. A fine home, the interior was already showing traces of Maris’s touch in the new entry wallpaper and in the large Meissen vase filled with bittersweet, the plant with its striking orange berries a favorite of her sister’s.

  When Maris let out a small squeak, Julianna turned to find her sister staring. At her stomach.

  “Jules, is that…are you…well, are you increasing?”

  As she’d predicted, the baby had grown considerably in the past few weeks, so there was no point in denying it. Besides, she had planned to share the news with Maris anyway.

  With a little smile, Julianna nodded. “Yes.”

  Maris raised up onto her toes. “Oh, that’s wonderful! But why did you not tell me?”

  “You did not give me a chance.”

  “Well, you have time now.” Taking Julianna’s arm, Maris steered her toward the sitting room. “Come have a seat so you can share everything.”

  Only a few minutes after entering the drawing room, William took Rafe back out to the stable to see the new foal, leaving the women to talk in private. Once they were gone, Maris set in with questions, bubbling with excitement over the idea that she had been witness to Julianna and Rafe’s first encounter and the start of their life together.

  Deciding it was easier not to spoil her fancies, Julianna allowed her little sister to assume what she would. She didn’t tell Maris everything, but enough to keep her satisfied and leave most of her romantic notions intact.

  Though Julianna never like prevaricating, she couldn’t bring herself to reveal the truth of how she and Rafe had really met, nor the fact that she’d been his mistress long before that fateful day in Hatchard’s bookstore. When it came to her pregnancy, though, Julianna was far more honest, admitting that she had already been expecting at the time of her marriage. Maris’s eyes widened slightly at the thought of her respectable sister engaging in an illicit affair, but soon enough she smiled and declared it was just too tremendously romantic for words.

  After hearing Julianna’s explanation, Maris admitted that she felt vastly relieved, since she’d been feeling rather hurt at having not been invited to the wedding.

  “But you were on your honeymoon,” Julianna countered.

  “Yes, but until now I couldn’t fathom why you could not have waited a few more weeks until our return. Now I know why, so all is well.”

  When the men returned, tea and sandwiches were served, all four of them sharing a convivial bit of conversation over the satisfying snack.

  During the meal, Julianna learned one thing: Maris was very happy in her marriage, her little sister sending frequent, smiling glances toward her new husband, who returned them with equal affection and intensity. If only Rafe and I had that kind of bond, Julianna mused. For in spite of the fact that Rafe was once again sharing her bed, little else about their relationship had changed.

  But she would not dwell on that now. She had this visit and the holiday to enjoy, and she planned to do so with enthusiasm.

  Christmas day proved to be a delight, with an array of delectable foods and unbridled frivolity. William’s family welcomed Julianna and Rafe with an easy manner, making only a brief comment about Rafe’s recent ascension to the nobility before quietly accepting him into the fold. As for Julianna’s ripening figure, any suspicions remained unspoken, leaving her to share the news about the baby in her own way and time. With everyone in a festive mood, she let herself relax and make merry, content to pretend for those few hours that everything was right in the world, and that her cares and worries were far, far away.

  Over the week to follow, she and Maris spent hours catching up on all they had missed during their time apart, while Rafe and William either rode out across the snow-dusted fields or else retreated into the warmth of William’s office to talk about the war or the economy.

  Meals were exceedingly pleasant, filled with fine food and interesting talk, the evenings taken up with singing, charades, and card games.

  At night, Julianna and Rafe shared a room, sleeping contentedly in each other’s arms. Infinitely gentle, Rafe made love to her, taking care not to be overheard as if he knew how uncomfortable it would make her feel there in her sister’s home.

  Twelfth Night came and went, and with it arrived the end of their sojourn to the country. Yet on the last day before their scheduled departure, Julianna found herself wishing they might remain longer. Or at least that she might remain longer, since she knew business matters awaited Rafe back in London, matters that could not be indefinitely delayed.

  Alone in their bedchamber before dinner, she waited for the right moment to speak.

  “Shall we go down?” Rafe asked, tugging at the sleeve of his tobacco-brown superfine coat as he strolled from the adjoining dressing room.

  Trailing the tip of a fingernail across the top of the polished walnut dressing table, Julianna shifted in her seat to face him. “Yes, in just a moment. First, I thought we might have a word.”

  He met her gaze with an inquiring expression. “Oh, about what? And may I say that you look especially lovely this evening. That color
becomes you.”

  She cast a quick downward glance at her vibrant sapphire shot-silk gown before forcing her eyes upward again. “Thank you, my lord. I am glad you approve.”

  “I do, most wholeheartedly,” he assured her with a smile. “Though I don’t know if I will ever get completely used to hearing myself referred to as ‘my lord,’ particularly by you.”

  “You will, since that is who you are now.” Hugging her blue-and-gold patterned shawl closer around her shoulders, she continued. “We have had a fine time these past several days, I think.”

  “Very fine. It’s been a good holiday.”

  She nodded. “I know you cannot delay your return to the city. I realize you are quite busy.”

  “Busy enough, though the time away has been manageable.”

  “I am not constrained by any such restrictions, however, which is why I thought I might remain here a while longer.”

  “What?” His voice lowered to a graveled rumble.

  “It is so peaceful here in the countryside, so relaxing,” she rushed on, playing her fingers over the edge of her shawl. “I love being with Maris, and she would be a great comfort to me as my confinement draws near.”

  “Your confinement is three months away.”

  She dipped her chin. “Yes, which is why I thought I would stay through the spring.”

  A glower as black and formidable as a rain-soaked thundercloud descended over his brow. “Out of the question. Now, we’ll be late if we do not go below for dinner.”

  “But Rafe—”

  “But nothing, madam. The conversation is over.”

  Straightening her back, she laid a hand over her gently rounded middle. “It is not over. I wish to remain with my sister.”

  “You mean you wish to be separated from me. Well, I will not permit that, so put the notion out of your mind. We will return to London tomorrow as planned. Both of us.”

  “You are spinning this all out of proportion. I merely wish to stay here until the baby is born.”

  “Do you? And will you return immediately after the child comes?”

  “Yes, I…well, yes, after I recover my health.”

  “And how many months will that take? Three, six, a year? No, Julianna, you are my wife and your place is at my side. If your sister wishes to visit you in London, she is most welcome.”

  “She is a newlywed. She cannot be away from William that long. How would it look?”

  “How would it look for you, since you are also newly married?”

  She bit the corner of her lip, realizing he had a valid point. But he was mistaken about her wish to leave him; such an idea had never entered her thoughts. All she wanted was a little time to relax in the comfort of her sister’s companionship, to allay her fears as she prepared for the birth of her child and all the momentous changes the baby would bring to her life.

  All she had succeeded in doing, though, was to make Rafe angry.

  “I simply need some time,” she said, trying to explain.

  He raised a critical brow. “Yes, we’ve established that, I believe. Once the baby comes, should you still find yourself needing time, perhaps other arrangements can be made.”

  The breath left her lungs. “What do you mean?”

  “You will always be my wife and nothing will change that save death. Couples separate, however, and if you find you cannot stand to dwell under the same roof as I, then you may go. Our child, of course, will remain with me.”

  A pain burst inside her chest at his threat, radiating outward like an exploding star. “I will never leave my baby.”

  “Then I suggest you find a way to continue our cohabitation.” His spine unyielding, he extended an arm. “We are most definitely late now. Let us descend before your sister and brother-in-law come in search. And smile unless you wish them to know something is amiss.”

  Half numb and no longer the least bit hungry, Julianna stood. Laying a hand on Rafe’s arm, she forced her lips to curve upward, when what she really longed to do was cry.

  An icy sliver of wind crept beneath the collar of Rafe’s heavy, many-caped greatcoat, making him wish he was inside the coach instead of riding beside it. But at present he preferred suffering in the cold to being confined in the landau with Julianna.

  So she wants to leave me, does she?

  His jaw clenched at the thought. Despite the fact that nearly a day had passed since her announcement that she wished to remain behind with her sister, her words still had the power to slice him to the marrow. Oh, she claimed their separation would only be temporary, but weeks apart had a way of turning into months and even years.

  And here he’d thought matters between them were improving. Imagined—erroneously it would now seem—that Julianna was taking pleasure in their marriage. Their union had not been an easy one from the start, he conceded, but with her return to his bed, he’d been convinced she felt something more for him than mere duty.

  Lately he’d been toying with the notion that she might even be coming to love him. But last night’s blunt declaration had swept away any such illusions. His hands tightened on the reins for an instant before he forced himself to relax, concerned he might unsettle his mount.

  Casting a glance toward the coach window, he let his gaze rove over Julianna’s regal profile, a pretty ermine-trimmed hat framing her dusky cheeks. A hard knot squeezed in his chest, struck as he always was by the dark allure of her beauty. But his reaction went far deeper than the surface, since he knew the woman who lay beneath. The soft, sweet, gentle being who possessed a core of indomitable strength and bravery, who fought for her beliefs and wasn’t afraid to stand up and protect those she cared for in spite of the consequences.

  A woman to be admired. A woman to be loved.

  And I do love her, he realized.

  After Pamela, he’d never expected to feel deeply for any woman again, but quite without his knowledge, the emotion had crept upon him and taken his heart unawares.

  Sighing, he dipped his head against the wind. What a sorry pass, he mused, loving a woman who does not love me.

  Perhaps he should have let her stay with Maris and William, since that had been her wish. But until his plans for St. George came to fruition and the man was rendered harmless, he could not risk Julianna’s safety. She might chafe under his restrictions, but she and their child must be protected at all costs.

  Nor was he about to let her take their child and move away after the babe was born. He remembered how much he’d longed for his father when he’d been a boy, how he’d had to content himself with infrequent visits and moments together that never seemed long enough.

  My child will know both his parents, he vowed, no matter the difficulties between Julianna and myself.

  Gazing at her again, he sighed and rode on.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  OH, THOSE LOOK darling!” Julianna declared, taking a step back so she could get a better view of the cheery, sunshine-yellow draperies that a pair of housemaids had just finished hanging over the nursery windows.

  With careful planning and patience, the new space was finally nearing completion. In the two months since her and Rafe’s return to Town, Julianna had devoted herself to converting the dark, musty third-floor attic into a haven for the baby who would soon enter their lives.

  Having received Rafe’s blessing to make any changes she wished, she’d hired a crew of skilled carpenters, craftsmen, and painters to create a nursery, bedroom, and a playroom that any child would love. Following her direction, the men had done amazing work, literally transforming the old, drafty environs into a connecting trio of warm, sunny, yet infinitely cozy rooms.

  Now, all that remained was seeing to the final details, little things such as hanging the last of the curtains and storing blankets, toys, clothes, and nappies. As for the furniture, a wide, exquisitely made rosewood cradle occupied a place just far enough from the fireplace to keep the baby warm without overheating him, while a walnut changing table and cane-back rocking
chair were arranged atop a pair of nearby Aubusson carpets.

  In the playroom, a huge hobby horse stood at the ready in one corner. When the toy had first arrived, she’d shaken her head at its impracticality, knowing it would be a pair of years at least before the baby was big enough to enjoy the gift. But Rafe insisted that his son or daughter would love looking at the horse, even if the child couldn’t ride it for a while. And in that, she knew he was right.

  Laying a hand on her protruding belly, she surveyed the nursery with its soothing peach walls and wide, sun-filled windows. The baby kicked, tiny feet pummeling beneath her ribs for a long minute. Despite the discomfort, the baby’s increasingly frequent movements reassured her that all was well.

  With less than a month of her pregnancy left, though, she found herself battling back worries about what was to come. After all, she’d watched her mother die in childbirth and knew all too well the terrible things that could occur.

  But everything will be fine, she told herself. For me and my child.

  She wished she had someone in whom she could confide, but she didn’t want to unnecessarily alarm her friends or her sister by voicing her fears. And talking to Rafe these days was out of the question.

  Since their return to London after the new year their relationship had grown increasingly strained. Rafe had even stopped coming to her bed at night. He claimed he did not wish to disturb her sleep, but she knew her personal comfort had little to do with his withdrawal. After their disagreement about her remaining in the country, he’d become more and more distant, until they once again found themselves living as virtual strangers.

  Part of her wished to go to him and repair the rift, but his threats had chilled her, had kept her silent when she might otherwise have lowered her pride enough to ask him to come back.

  “You may go,” he’d said. “But our child will remain with me.”

  The words had stayed with her all these weeks, gnawing at her like a rat at a rope.

  He cares naught for me, she thought. For all I know, he’s taken another mistress.