The Perfect Mistress

by Victoria Alexander

  “Miss Waverly,” he said slowly, trying to force words out past the fingers of panic that even now were wrapping themselves around his throat. “As we scarcely know one another, it seems entirely too early to be discussing even the idea of marriage. Don’t you agree?”

  “I do indeed.” She beamed at him. “You are very wise.”

  Because of my advanced years, no doubt.

  “But I do think you should know, if you are inclined in that direction at some point, we have discussed it.”

  “We?” He raised a brow.

  “Mother and Father and I, of course.”

  “Of course.” As was most proper.

  “And they would be amenable to this match.”

  He studied her closely. “And you, Miss Waverly? Would you be amenable as well?”

  “Oh my, yes, my lord. I would be a fool not to be.” She shook her head. “Why, you would be considered the catch of the year. Your wealth is sound and extensive and there has never been a hint of scandal about you. Even Mother is hard-pressed to find any gossip about you whatsoever aside from the fact that you have not been known to have asked permission to call on a young lady before. And while you are merely an earl now, you are heir to a much loftier title. You are really a perfect match.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice confidentially. “My dearest friend, Evelyn, has recently become engaged to an earl but he will never be more than an earl whereas you will one day be a marquess. Which means I would one day be a marchioness which is ever so much better than a mere countess. Evelyn would be quite green with envy. And as your father is so very old, I can’t imagine it will be all that long before he has gone on to his final resting place.” She paused as if she knew exactly what she’d said although he doubted it. “God rest his soul,” she added.

  “My father, Miss Waverly, is the picture of health.” He offered his arm and they started off again. “I hope to have him with us for many years to come baring unforeseen accident.”

  “Yes, that would be dreadful,” she murmured with no particular enthusiasm.

  He didn’t often think about becoming the Marquess of Kingsbury one day, it was simply an accepted part of his life. The fact that his father would have to die first was not something he wished to dwell on.

  “I just thought you should know,” she said. “About our … amenability that is.”

  “Quite right.” He forced a pleasant smile. “Your candor is most appreciated.”

  “I thought you would like it.” She beamed. “Now then, what was I saying? Oh yes. We were at a soiree with …”

  Good God, how was he going to extricate himself from this mess? While Miss Waverly did indeed meet all of his qualifications, he couldn’t imagine living the rest of his days with her. And her little dogs too. Certainly, the simple request to call on her was not an absolute declaration of intentions, although it was considered a first step. It was not surprising that Miss Waverly and her parents had discussed a match between them. But the more time he spent around her, the more sure he was that they would never suit. She might be quite perfect, well bred, eminently proper, and everything he thought he had wanted but actually being with the appropriate candidate had opened his eyes.

  Somewhere, in the back of his head, he heard Charles laughing.

  Perhaps he should trust his heart even if he had no idea how to go about it. And perhaps the very fact that he was confused was significant. As was the realization that even with Miss Waverly by his side, all he could think about was Julia. The more he considered everything, the more perplexing it all became.

  Worse, if he was wrong about the kind of wife he wanted, what else was he wrong about? And wasn’t it past time he found out?

  … and, as she was my friend, I had to tell her. Even if in cases like this one very nearly always kills the messenger.

  I have always found friendship interesting. It is my observation that friendships between men and women are only successful when their hearts are otherwise engaged. If not, the affection shared in friendship is often the beginning, which is the nature of men and women. The best marriages are those where husband and wife are friends as well as lovers. A man married to his dearest friend hardly ever strays.

  Friendship between women is a different matter. The bond can be stronger than that between sisters as one has no choice in one’s sisters. A true friend will walk through fire for you or with you. It is easier to have stalwart friends though than to be one, especially when it comes to matters regarding men.

  I was not at all bothered when my adventure with his lordship ended by mutual accord and within days he was in her bed. But when I learned he was going directly from Agatha’s bed to another’s, all the while professing his undying affection for her, it seemed my course was clear if exceptionally difficult.

  I knew she would not take it well and indeed my fears were confirmed when …

  from The Perfect Mistress,

  the Memoirs of Lady Hermione Middlebury

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I have never known you to be indecisive,” Veronica said mildly and sipped her tea.

  “It’s a very big decision,” Portia said. “She has three interesting offers and her future depends on which she picks.”

  The three friends sat at their usual table at Fenwick’s. Julia thought they’d been lucky it was available. Four of the five tables in the tearoom were occupied by small groups of ladies very much like themselves. Fenwick’s tearoom was obviously proving to be a good investment.

  Veronica’s brows drew together and she stared at Portia. “You’re being very practical today.”

  Portia shrugged. “I am unfailingly practical.”

  Veronica scoffed. “Not that we’ve noticed.”

  “Which brings up an interesting matter,” Julia said, eager to change the conversation to something other than her own dilemma. “You have been behaving quite oddly of late.”

  Portia’s eyes widened innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I mean you seem to have become an outrageous flirt,” Julia said. “We noticed—”

  “Everyone noticed,” Veronica added.

  “—at the literary salon the other night and before that at Veronica’s party,” Julia continued. “It’s not at all like you. What has gotten into you?”

  “Not a thing.” Portia shrugged.

  Veronica scoffed. “Come now, Portia, we are your friends and we are concerned about you.”

  “It’s nothing really.” Portia stirred her tea and refused to meet either woman’s gaze. “I’ve simply been … well … practicing.”

  “Practicing? For what?” Veronica snorted. “The national tart championships?”

  Portia’s gaze snapped to Veronica. “I have not behaved like a tart.”

  “No, you haven’t,” Julia said quickly. “But a gentleman might think that your actions are not merely harmless flirtations but invitations. Believe me, I have read enough of Hermione’s memoirs to know of what I speak.”

  “Thus far”—Portia leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest—“no one has accepted my invitation and I find it most upsetting.”

  Veronica choked on her tea. “Good God!”

  Julia cast her a quieting glance. Anything she said right now would only exacerbate the situation. “What do you mean?”

  “I thought perhaps if I was more flirtatious …” Portia heaved a heartfelt sigh and folded her hands on the table. “As you know, my family seems to think it’s time I marry again. At least once a week, one of my relations invites me to dinner or a card party or something where there is inevitably a number of eligible gentlemen they deem suitable to be my next husband. As of yet, not one of them has seen fit to call on me afterward.”

  Julia’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought you didn’t like any of them?”

  “I don’t but that’s not the point. It’s simply, well …” Portia thought for a moment. “It’s disheartening, that’s what it is.” She shook her head. “Of the three o
f us, Julia is the pretty one. Why, she has three men vying for her attention.”

  Julia shook her head. “They’re only interested in the memoirs.”

  Veronica coughed then shrugged apologetically.

  “Veronica is the clever one, and I, well, I am the proper one. I’m the one that … the one that’s left.”

  Veronica patted Portia’s hand. “You have money, darling.”

  Julia glared at her.

  Veronica sighed. “And you are really quite lovely with all that dark brown hair of yours and your large brown eyes. I don’t know why you think you aren’t.” She rolled her gaze at the ceiling. “You do have a certain wit about you as well. You can be most amusing. Beyond that …” A reluctant smile teased the corners of Veronica’s lips. “You really don’t make a very good tart.”

  Portia stared, then her lips twitched into a reluctant smile and the next moment all three women burst into laughter. At last Portia sniffed and smiled at her friends. “Thank you, Veronica. You do know how to put things into perspective.”

  Veronica shrugged in an offhand manner. “It’s a gift.”

  Julia aimed a pointed glance at Portia. “You should have told us how you were feeling.”

  “Yes, I suppose. But then I also would have had to tell you”—Portia smiled in a wicked manner—“that I have enjoyed every flirtatious minute.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “The idea came from the portion of the memoirs I read. Do you know how men react when they think they are going to be able to seduce you?” She shook her head. “I had no idea.”

  “Yes, but now you are going to once again be your usual, and quite charming, self,” Veronica said firmly.

  “I’m not going to give it up entirely.”

  “Nor should you.” Julia nodded. “But do try not to be quite so enthusiastic in the future.”

  “And, darling, the right man came along once and another right man will no doubt come along again. If you have learned anything from Lady Middlebury’s reminiscences you should have learned that. The last thing you want to do is make a mistake. Marrying the wrong person is one error that cannot be easily rectified.” Veronica sipped her tea in a nonchalant manner. “That’s what I hope my newfound brother understands.”

  “Oh?” Julia’s manner matched Veronica’s.

  “I’m speaking in regards to Miss Waverly. His father tells me she is turning out to be everything he wanted.” She smiled in an overly satisfied manner.

  Julia’s heart twisted. “I see.”

  “No, you don’t see at all. I presented him with Miss Waverly because she meets every one of his absurd qualifications. I believe he’s now finding out how totally asinine they are and that what he thought he wanted is the last thing that will make him happy.” She met Julia’s gaze and her satisfied smile returned. “Add to that, Miss Wa-verly is not the one he kissed. Is she, Julia?”

  Portia gasped. “He kissed Julia? Where?”

  “On the terrace,” Julia muttered.

  “On the lips.” Veronica grinned. “And he was most taken aback by it.”

  “Was he?” Julia said as if it was of no consequence.

  “He was indeed. I’ve never known him to be shocked by his own behavior before. Charles would have been so proud. But then Harrison hasn’t been himself since he met you.” She met Julia’s gaze. “Right from the beginning, he did not behave at all like his usual self. You, my dear, are the cause of the change and I must say I like it.”

  Julia shook her head. “He only wants the memoirs.”

  “And Cadwallender just wants the memoirs as well?”

  “No, he has asked to call on me,” Julia admitted.

  Veronica raised a brow. “And I am confident Mr. Ellsworth wants more from you than the memoirs as well.”

  “I believe Mr. Ellsworth wants more from every woman he meets,” Portia said under her breath, and the other women turned shocked gazes on her. “You needn’t look at me like that. I may have been something of an idiot to have flirted the way I did but I am not so stupid as to be taken in by the likes of Mr. Ellsworth.” She sipped her tea. “Although he is most charming.”

  “And not to be trusted, I suspect.” Veronica adopted an overly casual tone. “I was wondering if Harrison has apologized yet. For the kiss that is.” She considered Julia curiously. “And wondering as well if an apology is needed.”

  “He sent flowers and a brief note,” Julia shrugged. “As did Mr. Cadwallender and Mr. Ellsworth. But then I’ve received notes from both of them nearly every day and flowers almost as often.”

  Portia sighed. “A feast while some of us are in the midst of famine.”

  Veronica arched a brow. “Roses?”

  Julia nodded. “All of them.”

  Portia shook her head. “Men can be so unoriginal.”

  “Julia, it seems to me …” Veronica paused. “I don’t know how to put this tactfully.”

  “You’ve never put anything tactfully.” Portia scoffed. “Why begin now?”

  Veronica grinned at her. “There’s the Portia we know and love.”

  Julia laughed.

  “Very well then, I shall say it straight out. You can continue to deny it all you want but these gentlemen have more than literary concerns on their minds. They all want you in their beds.”

  “Veronica!” Julia gasped.

  She ignored her. “Mr. Cadwallender has honorably made his intentions clear, and one must give him due credit for that. Indeed, I imagine involvement with him would ultimately end in marriage although I don’t think he is the proper choice for you.”

  “I’d take him,” Portia said under her breath. “I thought he was quite handsome although I suspect his funds are minimal.”

  Veronica ignored her. “Then there is Mr. Ellsworth who does seem indiscriminate in his desires, and I for one would not trust him with my vilest enemy let alone my dearest friend.”

  “One has to admit though, he is quite attractive and very famous.” Portia grimaced apologetically. “I just thought that should be mentioned although I agree, Mr. Ellsworth is not the right man for you. Nor for any of us,” she added quickly.

  “Which leaves us with Harrison.” A note of triumph sounded in Veronica’s voice.

  “It does not.” Julia glared. “Or rather it does but to what end?”

  Veronica heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Let’s play a little game, shall we?”

  Portia’s gaze slid from Veronica to Julia and back. She smiled in an innocent manner. “I have always liked Veronica’s games.”

  “Veronica.” Julia’s voice carried a note of warning and again Veronica ignored her. As Julia knew she would. Harrison was right. Her friend could be most annoying.

  “Now, onto the game and the first questions.” Veronica looked at Julia. “How would you react, and more importantly, how would you feel if Ellsworth were to unexpectedly grab and kiss you?”

  “Why, I would be furious,” Julia said without hesitation. “And somewhat revolted, I suspect. The man holds no appeal for me although I too admit he is amusing. But I would certainly slap his face.”

  “Excellent answer.” Portia beamed. “Does she get points for that?”

  “No, darling, she is the only one playing.” Veronica cast Portia an affectionate smile. As gruff as she acted toward the other woman, Julia knew full well Veronica loved Portia as a sister. Without warning, gratitude for having these two women in her life washed through her. “Now, the next questions are exactly the same. Simply substitute Mr. Cadwallender for Mr. Ellsworth.”

  “Well, I would be most surprised if Benjamin were to kiss me.”

  “Benjamin?” Portia cast a knowing glance at Veronica.

  “He doesn’t strike me as the type of man who would take unwanted liberties. But I wouldn’t slap his face.” She thought for a moment. “I daresay Benjamin’s kiss would be very nice.”

  “Good Lord, Julia.” Portia stared. “Even I want more than nice.”

  “There is nothing
wrong with nice,” Julia said staunchly.

  “William’s kiss was nice,” Veronica said in an aside to Portia.

  Julia sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ve never told you anything of the sort!”

  “Not in so many words.” Veronica studied her. “Am I wrong?”

  “Yes,” Julia snapped.

  “My apologies then.” From the tone of her voice and the look in her eye, it was obvious Veronica didn’t believe her for a moment. “And there you have it. Neither Mr. Cadwallender nor Mr. Ellsworth elicits the kind of answers that would indicate further attention.”

  “Is the game over then?” Portia asked.

  “Yes.” Veronica sipped her tea. “I see no need to continue.”

  Portia frowned. “Aren’t you going to ask about Lord Mountdale?”

  Veronica shook her head. “I don’t think it’s necessary.” Her gaze met Julia’s. “Is it?”

  “No, I suppose not,” Julia muttered.

  “It isn’t? Why not? I don’t …” Portia’s eyes widened. “Oh. The kiss. Of course.” She nodded. “Well, if you married Lord Mountdale all of your money troubles would be at an end.”

  “I would never marry any man to improve my financial circumstances,” Julia said sharply. “Let alone Harrison. It wouldn’t be the least bit fair to him. And he deserves far better than that.”

  The words hung in the air.

  “Isn’t that interesting,” Veronica said under her breath.

  Julia narrowed her eyes and glared. “Isn’t what interesting?”

  “How are your finances?” Veronica asked.

  Julia stared at her for a moment. “Fortunately, I am not yet in dire straits. I have exchanged letters with my grandmother’s landlord and he is being more than agreeable in allowing her the time she needs to vacate the cottage. I do wish she would hurry though.”

  “I would think it takes a fair amount of time to sort through decades of accumulation.” Portia said. “Lord knows it would take me forever.”

  “Still, you do need to make a decision,” Veronica pointed out. “About the memoirs that is, not the men. Although it seems that decision ultimately leads to a choice of men as well.”