More Than A Mistress

by Ann Lethbridge

  The heavy weight of responsibility strangely missing these past few days descended squarely on Charlie’s shoulders. The burden felt heavier than ever before.

  ‘Stantford,’ Mother said in warning accents, ‘she is a lovely young woman. They will do very nicely together.’

  ‘Who is she?’ Charlie asked in awe of any woman who could capture his younger brother’s wandering eye and make him look so bloody happy.

  ‘Abernathy’s by-blow,’ Father said gloomily.

  ‘Oh, really, Alfred,’ Mother huffed. ‘You promised you would say nothing more. She is Endersley’s legitimate daughter. Lord Wynchwood’s niece. And an accomplished artist.’

  Father snorted.

  Charlie wanted to laugh. Of course Robert wouldn’t marry a suitable gel. He’d marry where he pleased. And be happy. ‘Good for him,’ he said, smiling at his mother.

  He hadn’t seen her looking this happy since Robert had disappeared. The worry had gone from her eyes. She was even standing up to Father.

  ‘How is Lady Allison?’ Father asked.

  His heart grew cold.

  As he’d promised, Father had taken Robert back into the family. Now he wanted his pound of flesh. A trickle of envy ran like acid in Charlie’s veins. No choice for him. No odd little artist or outspoken industrialist’s daughter. He had a position to uphold. He’d accepted it on his return from the war, embraced it as a way to make amends. After all, he had no right to expect happiness when he’d destroyed so many good lives. If doing his duty gave him pain, so much the better. It was well deserved. But now, right at this moment, the yoke of responsibility irked.

  ‘I did not yet see Lady Allison,’ he replied. ‘I barely reached Durn when you called me home.’

  Father frowned. ‘Unlike you to delay.’

  Charlie clenched his jaw, holding in the unreasoning surge of anger. ‘You are right, Father. That is why I am returning right away.’

  ‘In the morning?’ Mother said.

  Charlie glanced at his father’s deeply lined face, at the weariness in his eyes and the fear his eldest son would fail. ‘No, Mother. Today. Now.’ He took her hand and kissed it. ‘I’m sorry to rush off, but duty calls.’

  She shook her head. ‘Life is more than duty, Charles.’

  Not for him. He’d seen the results of straying from responsibility when he joined the army against his father’s wishes. He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll return to town as soon as I can.’

  Her eyes misted. ‘You brother looked so very happy.’

  He had. And Charlie had to be happy he’d been able to heal the breach between his father and his brother, even if neither of them seemed to give a damn one way or the other. Charlie could take comfort in seeing his mother’s smile. ‘Yes. He did. I’m glad I got back in time.’

  Mother’s eyes misted. ‘I want that for all my children.’

  There was happiness, or at least satisfaction, in doing one’s duty. There had to be.

  His father gave an impatient sigh. ‘Tonbridge,’ he said, with brows drawn low. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you standing in this church very soon. Hopefully, at least one of my sons knows what is due to the name of Mountford.’

  He forced a smile. ‘I know where my duty lies, Your Grace.’

  ‘Next time dress in appropriate attire.’

  Charlie inclined his head. ‘My apologies, Your Grace. It was either change or see Robert and his new wife.’

  ‘Hmmph,’ Father said.

  ‘Really, Alfred,’ Mother said.

  Charlie bowed to his parents, the weight on his shoulders more unbearable than it had ever been, and left for Durn.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Charlie handed his hat to his butler and shrugged out of his coat. If anything, Logan looked more prune-faced than usual. ‘Miss Draycott about, Logan?’

  The butler’s thin lips pursed. ‘In the long gallery, my lord. With that other female and the child. If I may say, my lord, this is not what I expected when I joined the household of one of the first families in England.’

  ‘You may not say,’ Charlie said, putting all the chill of a displeased cavalry officer in his voice.

  Logan shrivelled a bit, but the resentment in his eyes showed he wasn’t completely cowed. Damn it, what were Merry and her ladies up to that they had upset Durn’s staff? What was it about the woman that continued to turn all about her upside down?

  He took the stairs to the first floor two at a time and made his way through the maze of corridors to the back of the house. The long gallery displayed the pride of generations of Mountfords. Portraits, royal warrants, the odd suit of armour.

  As he drew closer squeals of delight echoed along the hallway. The high-pitched voice of a child and women’s laughter.

  What was she up to?

  The cheerful sound brought an unwilling smile to his lips. He approached the wide corridor running the length of the back of the house on silent feet, determined to catch her and her accomplices in the act.

  Remaining in the shadows, he glanced along the gallery. Light from the bank of windows flooded the Gothic-style room, which was lined with heavy oak panels and covered in portraits and coats of arms. He’d never before seen all the shutters flung back to let in the daylight, not even the muted daylight of a grey winter afternoon. Bad for the artwork.

  Two suits of armour had been moved from their corners to stand at the midway point of the room; a length of line attached one neck to the other. But that wasn’t what had his gaze wide-eyed. It was Merry, her skirts looped under a ribbon at her waist, so she showed an extraordinary amount of ankle, calf and knee, with a battledore in her hand, diving for a shuttlecock bashed with great vigour by Beth.

  Somehow she managed to hit it back. Beth collapsed laughing as the feathery object fell on the floor at her feet.

  ‘Ten times,’ cried little Thomas on the sidelines. ‘Now it is my turn.’

  Good Lord, he’d forgotten all about those old racquets. He and Robert used to play outside in the summer. Using the long gallery on a winter’s day would never have been approved.

  This would be how it would be with Merry. Fun. Surprising. Spur of the moment. When she wasn’t working, of course. She seemed to have achieved a balance in her life. Duty and pleasure.

  Why did he find it so difficult?

  Her face was flushed and alive with joy as she tossed her hair back and handed over her bat to the small boy. She looked more beautiful than he remembered.

  Frowning, he sauntered towards the players.

  Beth shot to her feet with a scared look. Merry turned and her expression of dismay made him cringe inside. With fumbling fingers she untied the ribbon at her waist and, disappointingly, her skirts fell to the floor with much brushing and tweaking from their owner.

  ‘Lord Tonbridge,’ she said, sounding breathless. ‘We didn’t expect you back so soon.’

  ‘Clearly.’ He raised a brow and glanced at the wooden-and-vellum bat in Tommy’s hand.

  ‘Oh, er…I hope you don’t mind,’ she said. ‘Tommy was restless. Caro has come down with the ague, but he is so much better.’ She pointed at the battledore. ‘I found these in the schoolroom. I made the shuttlecocks from corks and pens from the library.’

  No wonder they flew so badly. Beth and Tommy were looking at him as if he was an ogre. He couldn’t hold his serious face any longer.

  He chuckled, then he laughed out loud. ‘If you could have seen yourself just now. I thought you were going to break your neck trying for that shot.’

  Merry grinned back. ‘I used to be champion at this game as a girl, I’ll have you know.’

  ‘I bet you were.’

  He ran a finger along the string. ‘Interesting innovation.’

  She chuckled. ‘Tommy kept running into us. We put that there to keep him back at bit.’

  ‘Does the shuttlecock have to go over it or under it?’ he asked.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ the boy said. ‘Just so long as
you stay on your side.’

  ‘Can I have a turn?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Merry said.

  ‘You can have my turn,’ Beth said, bobbing an awkward curtsy. ‘I really ought to see how Mrs Falkner does.’ She handed her battledore to Charlie and scurried away.

  Tommy pouted. ‘He’s too big.’

  ‘All right,’ Charlie said. ‘You play with Miss Draycott, and I will keep count.’ He lowered himself to the floor and rested his back against a priceless tapestry. ‘Off you go.’ He gave Merry a saucy look. ‘Feel free to adopt your new style of clothing, Miss Draycott, if it makes it easier to play.’

  ‘Rogue,’ she said.

  Sadly, she didn’t. But from this angle Charlie had plenty of glimpses of her shapely ankle to keep him happy, as well as the view of her lovely bosom bouncing beneath her gown. Her ready smiles and laughter were even better.

  It was like watching poetry. It brought back the flashes of happiness he’d had before Waterloo. He sat on the floor and smiled until his cheeks ached.

  He counted out each hit and was delighted to see how carefully Merry knocked the flighted shuttlecock back to Tommy so he could hit it. The boy was wild in his returns, but Merry was agile and light on her feet.

  Finally, after twelve hits back and forth, Tommy let the bird drop to the floor.

  ‘Oh, well done, sir,’ Merry cried. ‘That is the longest number of hits we’ve had all afternoon.’

  The little boy instantly cheered. He grinned.

  Merry dabbed at her face with her handkerchief. ‘My word, I am hot. I think we will call it a day.’

  ‘What?’ Charlie said, leaping to his feet. ‘Just because it is my turn? You fear I will best you.’

  Tommy giggled at his expression of outrage.

  Merry laughed. ‘You take unfair advantage, sir. I have been playing for almost an hour.’

  ‘And I have been driving neck or nothing for several.’

  She made a mock curtsy of defeat. ‘Count for us, will you, Tommy?’

  The boy took up Charlie’s position on the floor.

  Charlie released the string around the neck of one of the suits of armour. ‘If I remember correctly, there is a lot of dashing about in this game. I don’t want to knock these fellows over. Logan will have my hide.’

  Merry covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes twinkled above her fingers. ‘I’m sorry. I should not have moved them.’

  ‘He’s cross with us,’ Tommy said.

  ‘He’s always cross with me, too,’ Charlie replied. ‘I shall pay it no mind. Please serve, Miss Draycott.’

  He loved the way her cheeks flushed red, and the frown on her brow above her sparkling blue eyes as she determinedly returned each of his shots. She was good at this game, as she was good at so many things, and she kept trying to catch him off guard, sending her shots in unexpected directions. It wasn’t so much about how high the count went, but about who would miss the first shot.

  Tommy’s voice rose in pitch as they exceeded twelve and headed for twenty.

  But Merry was tiring, he could see her energy flag and he was about to miss her next shot out of sheer kindness, if he could do it without making it obvious, when she tripped on the carpet.

  She went flying at the suit of armour in front of the fireplace.

  He dove to catch her, somehow managing to pull her clear of the hearth and land beneath her. A very sharp elbow jabbed him in the ribs as he hit the floor. Winded, he lay gasping beneath her. Laughing so hard, he couldn’t stop.

  ‘It’s not funny, ye great lummox,’ Merry said. ‘You made me miss my shot.’

  Tommy dashed over, his face terrified.

  ‘I made you miss it?’ Charlie said. ‘I thought you had abandoned the game in favour of a waltz with Lord Stanley there.’ He tickled her beneath the ribs.

  ‘Oh, stop.’ She dissolved into helpless giggles and Tommy joined the heap on the carpet, his little fingers more like claws as he tried to tickle them both.

  Charlie gathered them up, one under each arm and staggered to his feet. ‘That’s it, you two. You are going in the duck pond for insulting the heir.’ He whirled them around, aware of a twinge in his arm, but not giving a damn for the sheer joy of the moment.

  Merry, the little wretch, blew in his ear, bringing him up short.

  ‘Enough,’ she commanded. ‘Enough, both of you. Put me down, my lord. It is time I retired from the lists to change my gown and tidy myself.’

  Charlie grinned down into her face. The pull of desire left him hard and wanting. Not at all suitable in front of a child. He put them both down.

  ‘Run along and see your mama,’ Merry said. She smiled at Charlie and there was tenderness in her gaze. ‘Thank you for playing with him. He lacks for male company.’

  She looked lovely. Beautiful. All flushed and happy. And beyond his reach.

  He bowed. ‘Thank you for the game. When you have freshened up, I would like to talk to you, if I may.’

  Her face sobered. ‘Did your steward find out any information? I have tried to speak to him once or twice, but he has been too busy to see me.’

  ‘I called in on him on the way home. He found no news of the men who shot at us. Nor anything about Mrs Falkner before she arrived at the inn where you met.’

  She gasped. ‘I did not ask you to poke around in Caro’s life.’

  ‘She is hiding something, Merry. Who is she?’

  ‘My true friend. And that is all you need to know.’

  Until someone proved her wrong. Frustrated, but admiring of her loyalty, he bit down on the words. ‘Very well. But we do need to plan our next course of action.’

  ‘I’ll change and join you in the drawing room in half an hour.’

  Heavy hearted from what he knew he had to say, he watched her walk away and pulled himself back to business. He also needed to freshen up after his journey, but he’d use one of the guest rooms. Their affair had to end and he’d decided he would hire someone to guard her at Draycott House while they continued searching for the attackers.

  He didn’t have an alternative. Her staying at Durn made it impossible for him to follow through on his promise to Father. Her Purtefoy connection added yet another dimension to the complications. Agreeing to her plan had been a mistake of epic proportions, for them both.

  Merry started down the stairs for her meeting with Charlie. She was still smiling after their game. She’d never seen him so unreservedly happy. But the joy had faded as swiftly as daylight left the evening sky. Something was troubling him.

  ‘Psst,’ a voice said, bringing her head around to the source of the noise. Beth.

  She retraced her steps to where Beth hovered in the doorway to the other wing.

  ‘Did you need me?’ Merry asked.

  Beth glanced at a stolid footman. ‘I wants to speak to you in private. I was going to do it afore, but his lordship came along.’

  Her heart gave an uncomfortable thump. ‘Is Mrs Falkner worse?’

  ‘No, miss.’ She winced and again glanced at the footman who was looking down his nose.

  Merry gave him a haughty glare. ‘Would you mind stepping further down the hallway? Out of earshot.’ She spoke with calm authority. The man’s ears reddened and he strode away, all offended dignity.

  ‘What is it, Beth?’

  ‘I made friends with one of the kitchenmaids.’ She grinned. ‘Never know when an extra bit of food might come in handy. She snuck out to see her man last night. This mornin’ she said there’s a woman staying at the inn asking about visitors here at Durn.’

  ‘What sort of woman?’

  ‘I thinks it’s Jane. I was wondering if she wants to come back, like. Changed her mind and followed us here. She weren’t very keen on t’house when we was there, but mayhap she’s thought better on’t.’

  ‘How did she know to look for us here?’

  ‘We all saw how it was between you and his lordship. April and May, she said. Seemed a bit put out b
y it. But she must ‘ave guessed he’d bring you here.’

  Hardly April and May, but the attraction must have been more obvious than Merry thought. She frowned. How could a woman like Jane afford a room at the inn? Unless she’d returned to her old work. One of Caro’s rules had been no more male customers.

  Beth was watching her eagerly. ‘Shall you tell them to let her in?’

  ‘I can’t override his lordship’s orders,’ Merry said, suddenly glad for Charlie’s autocratic edict. Every instinct told her not to trust Jane, but Caro had always accused her of prejudice and Merry, unable to deny it was something about Jane’s hardness that troubled her, had pushed the feelings aside. ‘But I will see what can be done when I talk to his lordship in a few minutes. I will let you know what he says.’

  Beth shifted her feet. ‘You won’t tell him about the maid?’

  Heaven help her. ‘No, Beth. I won’t give your friend away.’

  Beth bobbed a curtsy and ran back down the hallway. Merry continued down the stairs.

  Charlie was waiting for her in the drawing room. Oddly, Logan followed her in, though she had not heard him behind her. He’d been following her around quite a bit. Her and Beth. Making sure they didn’t run off with any valuables, no doubt.

  Charlie glared at him. ‘What is it, Logan?’

  ‘My lord, I’m sorry, but a party of visitors have been admitted through the front gate. The lad ran all the way here to let us know, but they are not far behind.’

  Charlie’s face darkened to thunderous. ‘I instructed no one was to be admitted.’

  Merry froze. ‘I had better return to my room.’ She hurried out into the hallway and headed for the stairs. Charlie followed her out. ‘Logan, hold them off until Miss Draycott is upstairs.’

  Before Logan could move, the door swung open.

  ‘Honor Draycott,’ a shocked voice said. ‘Is that really you?’

  Merry swung around and stared at the fair-haired young man and fashionably attired lady in the opening.

  The Purtefoy siblings. Digby and Allison: blond, blue-eyed, beautiful and aristocratic. They looked horrified.