The Flawed Mistress (The Summerville Journals)

by Margaret Brazear

  He took my hand to pull me up, then started to move toward the door.

  "I will talk to you later," he told Anthony quietly. "For now, I need to be alone with my wife."

  Holding my hand in the warmth of his own, he led me to our bedchamber while I felt Anthony's hostile gaze following me. He undressed me, just as he had in the first days of our marriage, kissing my lips, my neck, my breasts, lifting me on to the bed and loving me once more.

  As I lie in his arms, feeling his bare flesh against mine, his hardened nipples pressing into my own, I knew that whatever had gone before, it was over now. I wanted to stay there forever, just lying in his arms.

  "What is the matter with Anthony?" He asked at last.

  "Nothing," I replied. "He is not happy with me, but he will get over it I am sure."

  "He had better."

  "You must not blame him, Richard," I said, looking up into his eyes. "He adores you and he believes that I was to blame for putting your life at risk. He is right and I shall never forgive myself."

  "No, he is not right. I will have my wife treated with respect in her own house, or there will not be space for both of you."

  I pressed my face against his chest and kissed it.

  "I do not wish to be the cause of an argument between you," I protested. "Let it go, please."

  "We shall see," he replied then gave a deep sigh before he went on. "Bethany, I have a confession. I lied to you earlier."

  lied? I thought frantically, About what? Was he going to tell me he did not love me after all, that he had only said that for his own ends? Was he going to say he was not staying, that he was going back to London to be with her?

  I wanted to find some clue in his expression, but I was afraid to look. I just held on tighter in case he tried to slip away.

  "Lied?" I asked hesitantly.

  "Yes," he said. "About Rachel."

  Oh, God! So he does love that woman after all!

  "I want us to have an honest, fresh start, no secrets, nothing to come between us. When I said she meant nothing to me, that was a lie. But I need to tell you about her and I need you to believe me, because I will be breaking a sacred vow by telling anyone without her permission."

  I looked up at him then, very much afraid of his next words.

  "What you have to believe, first and foremost, is that I love you and that I have always been faithful to you, since the day we first met."

  I smiled, wondering how he expected me to believe that.

  "You have lived with a very beautiful woman all this time, one who was your mistress before I came along according to Anthony. Do you really think I will believe that you were not tempted?"

  "I did not say I was not tempted," he replied with a little smile. "I said it did not happen; it has never happened. Rachel and I have never been lovers, not in all the years I have known her."

  "But Anthony told me she lived here with you," I said.

  "She did, but not as my mistress although that is what he was meant to believe. That was a rumour we put about to protect her. Her story is a tragic one, and I know she wants no one to know it. That is why it is so important that you believe what I tell you and keep her secret. She is different, and she is afraid of people gossiping about her." He paused then leaned down and kissed me. "Do you want to hear it?"

  I nodded. Of course I wanted to hear it. If he could tell me anything that would convince me that their relationship had been purely platonic, then of course I wanted to hear it.

  So he told me about her, about her childhood horror, about her two marriages, about the protection he had given her and how the deception which protected me was her idea. When he had finished, there were tears running down my face and all I could see in my mind's eye was that poor little girl, the horror she must have suffered and at the hands of her own father as well. I had believed my father uncaring for wanting to marry both me and my sister off to anyone for a title, but he would never have done anything like that.

  Then he told me that she did not live in London but here, next door to Summerville land, that she moved away because she had not wanted me to hear the gossip and believe that he kept his mistress close by. She gave up his protection out of respect for me.

  "Do you believe me?" He asked at last.

  "Could you have made that up?" I replied.

  I reached up and kissed him tenderly, but my mind was in a whirl of memories, good and bad. This man was an enigma, a puzzle.

  I had made him angry enough that he imprisoned me to fend for myself in that freezing cottage, yet he could do all this for Rachel to protect her. I felt that familiar dart of jealousy once more but I recalled his reasons for keeping me as he did. It seems she got the more comfortable part of the bargain, but what I got I deserved; she did not.

  "She was very angry with me for what I did to you," he went on. "I did not think she would ever speak to me again."

  "I understand why you did what you did," I assured him. "Because I made you lose your temper. Do you remember telling me you had an uncontrollable temper?"

  "I do."

  "You told me a lot of things that day that I chose to ignore. I betrayed you and I do not blame you for being so angry with me. I did at the time; I was terrified."

  "Rachel told me that the reason I was so enraged was because I loved you, that no one else could have made me that angry."

  "Was she right?"

  "She was," he replied then he kissed me again and we made love once more before we dressed and reappeared downstairs.

  Anthony looked up as we approached and I squeezed Richard's hand.

  "Let it go," I whispered. "Please."

  "Bethany could you leave us, please," he replied.

  My eyes met his and held his gaze for a few moments, silently pleading with him to do as I asked, but I could see his decision was made, so I left them alone but not out of earshot. I wanted to be sure to hear what was said.

  "Richard," Anthony began at once, shaking his hand once more. "I am so very glad to see you. We thought you were dead, we thought we had lost you."

  "Who is 'we'?" Richard asked him.

  "Why me, Rachel........"

  "And Bethany?"

  "Yes, of course and Bethany," Anthony finally looked concerned at the turn the conversation was taking. "She was devastated, Richard. She even went to the church to buy masses for the dead."

  Richard raised his eyebrows and I knew by his expression that my actions had pleased him.

  "Did she indeed?" He asked coldly. "Then you are in agreement with me that we put the past behind us?"

  "I am not sure what you mean," Anthony protested. "What lies has she told you?"

  Richard's face darkened in fury and I wanted to run and get between them, before he decided to strike his young cousin. I did not want this.

  "Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I mean, Anthony," Richard replied in a cold voice. "I saw the way you looked at her. Far from reporting your attitude, she wants me to let it go, but that is up to you. I will have my wife treated with respect. Do you understand?"

  "She betrayed you," Anthony argued. "She almost cost you your life."

  "She had her reasons," Richard answered. "She was not solely to blame. Do you understand?"

  Anthony nodded but he did not look happy.

  "Will you go to see Rachel. She will be grieving as well," Anthony asked. "Or shall I tell her?"

  "She knows already," Richard replied. "I saw her earlier from the window and she saw me. I imagine she had ridden here to comply with my wishes, as you should be doing, but seeing me alive and well, she thought there was no longer any need."

  Rachel had come here, while I was still reeling from having him back in my arms. I could easily guess what wishes he had asked her to convey to me. He wanted her to tell me her secret and that is why she had come. Her secret that she never, ever wanted anyone to know, she was willing to tell to me because he asked her to, because his last wish was for me to believe that he had been fa
ithful.

  I felt a swell of gratitude for this beautiful woman who had haunted my dreams for so long. I could no longer hate her, that was for certain.

  I stepped into the great hall then to interrupt the tension between the two cousins, but I could see they were both still very angry.

  Anthony gave me a scathing glare, and Richard took a threatening step toward him.

  "Please," I cried out. "Please do not argue about me."

  "I have no wish to," Anthony replied. "I would like to understand why my cousin should forgive such a betrayal as yours."

  "You have no need to understand," Richard told him. "The decision is mine alone."

  Anthony was shaking his head and still looking at me with loathing in his eyes, as though he thought I had somehow forced his cousin into taking me back. I wondered what on earth he thought I could possibly do that would persuade my husband to do anything against his will.

  "I am sorry, Richard," Anthony replied with a note of regret. "I can no longer live under the same roof as a traitor like this."

  I watched Richard's expression turn to contempt as he stood watching his cousin for a few moments before he replied.

  "Very well," he said at last. "You had best leave in the morning, earlier if possible."

  Anthony looked taken aback, as though he had not expected him to put me first. Did he not understand even now what we meant to each other?

  "You are really taking her side?" He protested. "You have raised me, been like a father to me, and you would take the side of a treacherous heretic over me?"

  I saw Richard's fist clench dangerously and wondered just where this was going to lead.

  "My wife," he said, "is a protestant, not a heretic. And I have not only forgiven her, we have forgiven each other."

  "And what of Rachel?" Anthony demanded with a glance of satisfaction at me. "Will you simply abandon her now? Is this a day when I must learn that you will abandon anyone who gets in your way?"

  "You have no idea about Rachel," Richard shouted. "You had best not speak her name before me, after everything she has done for us."

  That is when I made up my mind. I knew he would not abandon her, that he would do what she wished and I badly needed to know what that was.

  I stepped between them and turned to face my husband.

  "I want to meet her," I said.

  ***

  I was very nervous as the carriage took us the short distance to Rachel's house. During that journey, Richard held my hand and told me that this beautiful woman of whom I had been so jealous for so long, was his dearest friend and he hoped she would be mine as well.

  "I am not sure I can do that, Richard," I said. "I will try, but you need to understand how much I have hated her all this time. It will not be easy to change those feelings, not even for you."

  "You will try, though?"

  "Of course. Just do not expect too much, please."

  As we waited for the little maid to announce us, my heart began to beat faster and when I saw Rachel up close, all my doubts came brimming to the surface. Could it really be possible that these two had not been lovers, despite what he told me? How could he have resisted her?

  She stood up and her eyes held Richard's before she said in an accusing tone:

  "You told her."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Rachel's Journal

  When Louisa led them into my little sitting room, she looked abashed. I doubt she ever thought she would be announcing Lady Summerville in this house.

  "Lord and Lady Summerville," She announced, then fled to the kitchen.

  I got slowly to my feet and my eyes held Richard's.

  "You told her," I said at once.

  "Rachel, I had to," he said pleadingly. "I wanted us to have an honest new start. I know I have let you down, that they were your secrets to tell. Will you forgive me?"

  I felt very uncomfortable having this conversation in front of Bethany, wondering what she must think of me, afraid to talk to him with my usual familiarity lest it offend her.

  She studied me carefully, her dark eyes sweeping over my face as though trying to see into my soul, into my heart, trying to decide whether to believe what she had been told. How hard was it going to be for her to accept that her handsome, virile husband had treated me as a sister all these years? Even when he was sharing his apartments in the palace with me? I knew I did not look the innocent, I never had; I only wished I could.

  After a glance at Richard, as though seeking approval, she stepped forward and took both my hands in hers.

  "Is it true?" She asked softly.

  "Yes, it is," I answered carefully, wondering whether I would now be called a liar.

  Then she let go of my hands and put her arms around me, hugging me close.

  "I feel for you, My Lady," she said gently. "Richard tells me you have done me a great service, quite possibly saved my life. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, for both of us."

  While we stood so close together, I could feel her trembling and her pulse racing, I could almost feel the doubt that remained.

  "I was happy to do it," I said. "I do not suppose in his modesty, Richard told you what he has done for me over the years."

  I picked up the rolled up parchment that Richard had sent to me and gave it to her.

  "Perhaps this will convince you, My Lady," I said.

  She stood and read the letter, her expression changing from one of doubt to one of sorrow. I looked past her at her husband and saw him mouth the words "thank you" for the second time that day.

  I gestured them both to sit down and poured wine. I was running out of things to say and I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Apparently, he had persuaded her that our relationship was always purely platonic, but we still loved each other and I was afraid she might see that and take it to mean he had lied.

  "I will return to Finsbury, My Lady," I said as soon as we were seated. "I do not want the villagers to start their gossip again."

  "I do not care what they think," she said. "Of course, if you will be happier there, then that is one thing, but please do not leave on my account. I owe you a debt that can never be repaid, not only in taking my place at court, but in persuading my husband that I did not go out of my way to betray him."

  My eyes met hers and I felt humbled by the love she so obviously had for him. Did I really convince him? Was it only my word, or did he understand why she did what she did?

  I wished I could have stayed, wished we could have been friends. But I knew the people here would never believe the truth. They would not welcome me and they would soon pity her.

  "People here believe they know what I have been, and nothing anyone says is going to change that. If I stay, they will resent me and they will resent Richard. I will be better in Finsbury, where nobody knows me." I watched her expression and thought I saw a frown of suspicion cross her lovely features. I could almost hear her wondering if this was some plot to keep me in her husband's bed, wondering if she was being made a fool of. If the letter did not convince her, nothing would. "If I stay, I will come between you. I will not allow that."

  She turned to Richard and said something that surprised me.

  "Could you leave us, please? Do you mind?"

  He too looked surprised but he left the room and I heard the front door open and close behind him. Now I was the one trembling, wondering what it was she wanted to say that she could not say in front of him.

  "Are you not convinced?" I asked her. "Even seeing his last request to me?"

  "I believe you," she replied quietly. "It is not easy, but I do believe you. And I think I understand why you did not want anyone to know the truth, why you did not want people whispering about you."

  "What then? What troubles you, My Lady?"

  "He says he loves me," she replied simply. "Does he speak the truth? Has he really forgiven me?"

  It was my turn to take her hands.

  "Oh, My Lady!" I cried. "He loves you more than anything in
the world. He was prepared to die for you. You must never doubt him, never."

  "Thank you," she said softly, squeezing my hands. "I hope we will meet again. I hope you will call on me before you return to Finsbury. I know that Richard will want to see you again."

  Then she was gone, leaving me to envy her the future she would have with the only man I could ever have loved.

  THE END

  Copyright 2013 Margaret Brazear

  Author's Note: Thank you for reading Book Two of the Summerville Journals. I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, I hope you will leave a review on the Amazon website.

  Please consider my other Books:

  The First Book of the Summerville Journals: [url=http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00G6SK3EI/?tag=kb1-20]The Judas Pledge[/url]

  [url=http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EMIG1BS/?tag=kb1-20]The Romany Princess[/url]

  [url=http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00F8J5Y04/?tag=kb1-20]Mirielle[/url]