More Than A Mistress

by Ann Lethbridge

  Perfect. The word struck a painful chord. Somehow Merry managed to smile. ‘Then lead the way, my dear.’

  In the two weeks since she’d returned to Draycott House, Merry’s life had settled back into its old rhythm. At least, outwardly the rhythm remained the same. Inside, she felt like a clock with a broken spring, with little rushes of time full of busy work and long empty gaps in which the seconds ticked by like hours.

  Even here, visiting Caro’s new refuge for needy women, she couldn’t feel any excitement. It was as if a piece of her was missing.

  Charlie. Each day she scanned The Times, looking for word of him, dreading to see the announcement of his forthcoming wedding and steeling herself to read it and smile.

  Caro flung open the door to a long room, with a bank of windows down one wall, a polished plank wood floor and furnished with a rectangular table surrounded by chairs. A door led off it to the kitchen. ‘We can feed at least six ladies in here,’ she said with obvious satisfaction. ‘Once they have real work and can afford to rent accommodation, we can take another batch.’

  ‘The workmen did a good job. It looks very welcoming.’ Prior to the renovations, there had been three small rooms at the back of the house.

  ‘They will start the dormitory next week.’

  ‘Mummy, Mummy.’ Tommy rushed into the room, his face flushed with excitement. ‘There’s a soldier at the door.’ He shot off again. Tommy loved all things military and was no doubt intending to ogle their guest. If he was a guest.

  Caro looked at Merry with consternation in her eyes. ‘Not more trouble.’

  ‘I haven’t heard any grumblings. Mr Broadoaks tackled the other mill owners and their wives. He promised money, too.’

  Beth appeared at the door. Her face held suppressed excitement, but no concern. ‘Two gentlemen to see you, Miss Draycott.’

  ‘Me?’ Merry said. ‘Who on earth knows I am here?’ Instead of working in her office as usual, she’d used the finished refectory as an excuse to leave her empty house. Not that she was getting much work done even when she was there. Her mind wouldn’t focus. It kept wandering off to think about Charlie and the events of the past few weeks.

  Beth had a secretive smile on her round face. ‘I’ve put them in the front parlour, miss.’

  ‘Did the gentlemen not give you their cards?’ Merry asked. She really didn’t want to see anyone. Making small talk took too much energy.

  ‘They did, mum, but I couldn’t read them too good.’ She sauntered off with a swing of her hips.

  Merry glanced at Caro and laughed. Beth’s role as housekeeper had it drawbacks, but she was learning.

  ‘We should see who it is, I suppose,’ Caro said.

  ‘Yes, we should.’ Merry tucked her arm through Caro’s and they strolled back to the front of the house.

  Merry gestured for Caro to go ahead. It was, after all, her house. Merry had put it in her name.

  Caro came to a sudden halt with a gasp of shock. Merry almost bumped into her. She stepped around her friend.

  Two gentlemen rose to their feet. Tommy hung on the arm of the chair from which Captain Read had risen, hero worship on his angelic face.

  And looking haughty and reserved across the room was… Charlie.

  Merry’s stomach pitched. Her heart stuttered to a halt, then broke into a gallop. She grabbed the doorpost for support. ‘Lord Tonbridge?’ Her voice sounded reedy. She swallowed and realised the captain was staring at Caro open-mouthed.

  Charlie bowed. ‘You remember Captain Read, don’t you, Miss Draycott? Mrs Falkner, Captain Read is a friend of mine, here in Skepton looking into rumours of unrest at the mills.’

  The captain glanced down at the boy and back at Caro. ‘Mrs Falkner?’ He looked stunned.

  As did Caro, who backed towards the door, her hands fluttering at the ribbons of her cap. ‘If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have remembered an urgent appointment. Thomas. Come along.’ She made a stiff curtsy and left the captain frowning after her.

  Tommy dragged his feet in her wake.

  ‘If you do not mind, Miss Draycott,’ the soldier said. ‘I would like a word with Mrs Falkner.’

  Whatever the captain wanted to say to Caro, the desire for speech was clearly not mutual. Merry put out a staying hand. ‘Please, Captain, may I not take the opportunity to express my deep thanks for your help the other evening?’

  Reed glanced down at his coat sleeve tucked inside his jacket. His mouth curled in a wry smile. ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, my dear Miss Draycott. Quite like old times, eh, Tonbridge?’

  ‘Quite,’ Charlie said drily.

  The captain bowed. ‘If you will excuse me.’ He marched off.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Merry said. ‘I think he knows Caro.’

  ‘I shouldn’t be surprised. Blade is a bit of a rake. And the hand doesn’t seem to hold him back.’

  ‘Perhaps I should go and make sure she is all right.’

  He blocked her from leaving. ‘She won’t come to any harm. He’s an officer and a gentleman.’

  ‘Why are you here?’ Merry asked, struggling to ignore her quickened heartbeat. ‘Are you visiting in the neighbourhood or passing through on your way to town, perhaps? It is very kind of you to call and see how we do.’

  ‘Merry,’ he said sternly, ‘I came specifically to see you.’

  A lump rose in her throat. She swallowed. ‘We have nothing left to discuss.’

  He looked down at his hat, turned it in his hands and set it on the table. ‘I think we do. Or at least I have things I need to say.’

  She really didn’t want to do this again. Her heart was aching quite enough at the sight of him without adding further pain. Nothing had changed. He was still heir to a dukedom. She was still common-as-muck Merry Draycott, a mill owner’s daughter. She had done the right thing for him. Left him with his own class of people. Why could he not let it lie?

  ‘Please, Charles, can we not do this?’ She went to the window and looked out. Dark grey clouds hung over the moors beyond the edge of town. ‘My business in Skepton is concluded. I called in on Caro on my way home, but I really must be going. It looks like snow.’

  ‘It doesn’t smell like snow,’ he said.

  She spun around and just caught the flicker of a smile on his lips. Teasing her? The wretch. Didn’t he know how painful it was for her to see him again? Probably not. He was likely doing what he considered his duty. A courtesy call.

  She managed to draw a shaky breath, something to sustain her next words around the pain. ‘If the captain needs information from me, he may call on me at Draycott House.’

  ‘But I may not,’ he said, his voice low.

  ‘No. You may not.’ It hurt, but still she smiled. ‘I am not looking for an affaire at the moment.’

  He smiled. ‘Are you sure?’

  His voice was low and husky. Sensual. His eyes hot. Heat fired beneath her skin, her body tingled where it should be quiet and still. ‘Perfectly sure,’ she said coolly. She couldn’t bear the thought of it, knowing eventually he would leave her.

  In three steps he was at her side, his hand holding hers to his lips. His brown eyes regarded her steadily, intently, as if he would look into her soul. ‘I miss you, love.’

  The words melted her insides. Her arms yearned to hold him. What good would it do? There would be more pain, more longing when he left. Nothing good could come of it, but a few fleeting hours of passion.

  Surely he understood. ‘We are not children, Lord Tonbridge. We are adults. We know that it is not the end of the world if we are denied the thing we most want at any particular moment. Find somewhere else to cast your eye. Lady Allison, perhaps.’ Oh, dash it, that sounded terribly bitter.

  The twinkle did not leave his gaze. ‘Lady Allison is in mourning.’

  Merry recoiled, forced herself to remain calm. ‘There are many others, I am sure.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed, smiling, his face devilish. ‘There are.’

 
; ‘Well, then.’ She tried to recover her hand, but he held it fast.

  His gaze searched her face. ‘Unfortunately, there is only one Merry Draycott.’

  Captain Read charged into the room. He winced when speared by Charlie’s glare. ‘Mrs Falkner has disappeared.’

  ‘And you are telling us this because…?’ Charlie said coldly.

  ‘I thought Miss Draycott might know where I should look.’

  ‘If Mrs Falkner does not wish to be found, Captain Read,’ Merry said, ‘don’t you think you should leave her unfound?’

  He swallowed and turned red. ‘I…I… Yes. I beg your pardon.’ He bowed and left.

  ‘Idiot,’ Charlie said.

  The interruption had allowed Merry a chance to gather her scattered wits. She pulled her hand free, put a few feet between them, where she found air enough to draw breath, and escaped his sensual pull. ‘It’s reet kindly of you, my lord. Flattering. If you are concerned for my reputation, you needn’t be. It is as ever it was.’

  ‘Merry, dearest Merry. It is no good hiding behind that accent. It is music to my ears, love. I have done a great deal of thinking these past two weeks about what is right and what makes sense.’

  He’d been thinking? She’d been going round in ever-decreasing circles. ‘Nothing between us makes sense.’

  ‘I know I am not happy while we are apart. And I know I was never happier than when we were together.’

  A rush of tears filled her eyes. She turned her face away. ‘Please, I am begging you, do not ask this of me.’

  ‘What am I asking, Merry? You have to tell me, so I understand.’

  ‘How can you understand? You are the son of a duke.’

  ‘Try me. Give me a chance. Please, Merry.’

  Oh, he knew her too well. If he had commanded her, she could have called on anger and resisted, but this gentle question was so much harder to fight.

  She took a deep breath, panicked and grabbed the first thought in her mind. ‘I won’t be the reason for estranging you from your family.’

  ‘Heard that, did you?’ he said grimly. ‘I should have guessed. This has nothing to do with my father. I am talking about our future, our happiness. Doing my duty, as Father calls it, won’t make up for past mistakes. I know that now. Nothing can. I can only trust I have learned enough to do better in the future. Merry, I want that future to include you. I need you there with me.’

  Oh, it wasn’t fair, that he should be so wonderful, so sweet, so terribly tempting. She sniffed and he handed her his handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes. ‘But I don’t fit in your world.’

  ‘How can you know if you don’t try? With me beside you—’

  ‘I did try.’ The old hurt rose up like a poisonous mist, clouding her mind with the anger, the hurt. ‘At school. When I first arrived, they laughed at my speech. I’d been copying Grandfather, you see. I learned quickly. I said nothing out of turn. I was a model pupil. I even bought things for the other girls. Grandfather sent me whatever I asked for, money, hair ribbons. A puppy.’ A hard laugh escaped her at the memory. ‘Can you imagine the stir? I was the centre of attention.’

  She tugged her hand free and paced to the other side of the room. She forced a smile to her lips and turned to face him. He was watching her gravely, trying to understand. How could he understand? He had never known what it was like to feel rejected, unworthy. ‘I loved how they gathered around me.’ A hot lump formed in her throat. She breathed around it, her chest rising and falling painfully. The schoolgirl of those long-ago years, curled up in a ball. Curled around the hurt, protected it from view.

  ‘All the while I was trying to fit in, those girls were laughing behind my back.’

  ‘You don’t know that for sure.’

  ‘I do know it. Lady Allison kindly told me. Why do you think I sought comfort from Jeremy?’

  ‘No one will laugh at the Marchioness of Tonbridge.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Charlie. They expelled me from school because I wasn’t the right class of person. Not because of what I did in the potting shed. I wasn’t good enough. Nothing has changed.’

  He shoved a hand through his hair. He looked tired and frustrated. ‘All right, we will live in seclusion. We don’t need to mingle with the ton. It will be just us. You and I and our children, if we are blessed.’

  She grabbed on to his words like a life line. ‘You’d hide me away, you mean. You see. You know I’m right. You’d be ashamed of me.’

  ‘You are twisting my words.’

  ‘And what of the children? Will they be laughed at, too, when they go to school?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘You don’t know that. You can’t know that.’

  ‘I’m sorry you had such a bad time of it. Children are cruel. And, yes, the beau monde is rabid about guarding their privileges. Show weakness and they will tear you to pieces. But you aren’t weak. And nor will our children be weak.’

  ‘I can’t do it.’

  His jaw hardened. His eyes grew bleak. His expression turned to granite. ‘Merry, these excuses of yours encourage me to think I can find a solution, but if the real truth is you don’t want me, then say so. Put me out of my misery.’

  She wanted to weep. To see him looking so hurt, so confused, and to let him suffer. She wrung her hands. ‘You don’t understand.’

  Sadly he gazed at her. ‘No. I don’t. I have tried. But I really do not understand why you would care more about the views of a pack of jackals than about us.’

  Layer by layer he peeled away the fabric she’d woven to protect her innermost secrets until she could no long hide the raw and bleeding bitter truth.

  ‘Do you know what I did?’

  Silent, watchful, he waited for her to tell him.

  ‘At the end of term, I asked Grandfather not to come to the school to collect me. I told him to meet me around the corner, so no one would see him. I was ashamed of him. The man who gave me everything. I didn’t want them to meet him.’

  ‘Oh, Merry, a child’s mistake.’

  ‘I was old enough to see the hurt in his face when he realised what I had done. The kindest, most generous man in the world and he knew I was ashamed. And yet I did nothing, said nothing.’

  He took a half-step forwards as if to offer comfort. She held up a hand to ward him off.

  ‘I knew it would hurt him. I knew. And still I did it.’

  ‘But he forgave you?’

  ‘We never spoke of it. He was kind and cheerful as always. But he knew what I had done.’

  ‘Then he forgave you. And you must forgive yourself. He would not want you to dwell on such a small thing.’

  She curled her lip. ‘It sounds simple when you say it, but what about you? You haven’t forgiven yourself for what happened at Waterloo and you came home a hero.’

  ‘That is different. Men died because of my stupidity. And to tell you the truth, since we talked, I seem to have come to terms with it.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ She was glad. Thrilled that she might have been of help. She smiled brightly. ‘At least something good came of our time together.’

  ‘Merry, I love you. I want to marry you. Don’t push me away.’

  Love? She stared at him open-mouthed. She thought he’d come for honour and duty’s sake. Because he’d taken her to his bed. He loved her?

  ‘Oh,’ she said. Her legs felt weak. She sank on to the sofa.

  ‘I should have told you before. It took me a while to work it out. It took your leaving for me to understand my own heart.’

  ‘You honour me,’ she said.

  ‘But?’

  ‘It can’t work.’

  He took her hand and kissed her gloved knuckles. ‘It can if you want it, too. If you love me.’

  Everything she’d ever wanted shone from his eyes. Love. Affection. Honesty. She shook her head.

  ‘Why, Merry. Give me a reason I can understand. Tell me you don’t love me in return and I will never bother you again.’

>   She loved him with all her heart.

  The tears, pushing up in hot waves in her throat, spilled over. ‘Charlie, what if our children are ashamed of me? I don’t want that for them. The shame and later the guilt.’

  He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her against his wide chest. ‘I won’t allow it, love. They will love, honour and respect their courageous, beautiful mother or I will cast them off without a penny.’

  A shaky laugh pushed its way through the tears. ‘You sound like your father.’

  ‘Don’t I just.’ He gave her a squeeze. ‘It won’t happen. If your parents had lived, do you think your mother would have been ashamed of your father?’

  ‘Oh, no. Grandfather said it was love at first sight.’

  ‘And do you think either one of them would have left you to the mercies of callous schoolgirls like Lady Allison? No. Your mother would have given you the tools you needed to deal with their ilk. Instead of that you had to work it out for yourself. Our children will not be ashamed of their mother because not only will they love her, but their father will make sure they respect her. They will know how brilliant you are and how beloved.’

  It sounded plausible when he said it with such conviction. ‘Your father won’t like it.’

  ‘Father will come around.’ He shrugged. ‘And if he doesn’t, then I’ll find some gainful employment. After Waterloo, I swore I would follow the rules and never risk harming anyone else. God, I even tried to make my brother fit the same mould. He tried to tell me a life of only duty is no life at all. I wouldn’t listen. You taught me to listen, Merry, and gave me joy. Something I thought I didn’t deserve. Don’t send me back to an empty life. I need you. Together we can face the world. I would be proud to call you my wife.’

  Proud? Of her? ‘How can you be?’

  He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Because you are clever and kind. You stand up for what you believe in no matter what others say. And because I love you.’

  ‘I love you, too.’ The words held so close to her heart she hadn’t known they were there spilled forth like heady wine. ‘I love you, Charlie.’