His Michaelmas Mistress

by Marly Mathews

  “And you love me for it, Julia,” he said softly.

  “How did you know how to find my bedchamber?”

  “I say, your brother was most accommodating. His lips get awfully loose when he’s had a tipple or two.”

  “And where is your father?” she asked tiredly.

  “The Duke is passed out in the bedchamber that Richard showed us to earlier. It had gold wall hangings, and the covers on the bed were gold…”

  “He showed him to the Gold Bedchamber.”

  “Aye, I suppose so. He went there after we carried your brother to his bedchamber…and the Duke became all mawkish, embraced me…and…” he grunted, as he bent to retrieve something, “Gave me a bloody signet ring that is supposed to go to the Hamilton Fair…”

  “Hamilton Heir,” she corrected, chuckling.

  “Aye, that,” he sighed. “I have never been so shocked in my life, Julia. I never thought he was going to let me go. Apparently, I have to wear the ruddy ring on the pinky finger of my left hand. Now, where was I?”

  She groaned. “Don’t even think about. Cast whatever you have spinning in your head, aside. I see your intentions. Naughty as they are. You are not getting into bed with me, and that is final. Do you hear me, Freddie?”

  “’Course I do. There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, and there’s nothing wrong with your voice, either. Lower your tone, or you’ll be the one to give us away,” he said, making shushing noises.

  She felt the bed move, as he sat down on it. “You had best be wearing something, Freddie. If you are naked…”

  “I kept my drawers on, so you needn’t be so peeved. It’s not like I’m going to attack you…I plan on adoring you like the lady of my heart you are,” he said, his words slurring into each other. “But to warn you, I usually like to sleep naked, with all of my wobbly bits hanging out,” he chuckled.

  Well, at least she knew he wasn’t a mean drunk, which was a relief.

  “Freddie, put your clothes back on, and take your drunken arse out of here! You are starting to talk like a bloody poet, and that is not good—it is bad tidings for me and for you. So off with you. Leave my bedchamber now, you silly fool!”

  “I don’t…I don’t feel like it,” he drawled. “I want to be with you. I felt as if you needed me, and if you need me, I can’t leave, can I? I mean, how much of a knight in shining armour would I be? Eh?”

  “I know what you felt like you needed, and you shan’t get it, Freddie. You are being intolerable. You will act like a gentleman, and you will wait for our wedding night.”

  “We should have already been on our honeymoon,” he said, dejection in his voice.

  “And you know who you can bloody well blame for that rubbish,” she muttered. Now, he was lifting the bedclothes, and climbing under them.

  “Oh, aye. I know. I am a cretin. I am a blockhead. I am an imbecile…I am an oaf…what else do you like to call me?”

  “I don’t call you any of those things. You make me sound like a shrew.”

  “Oh, no. You ain’t no shrew. I have met shrews, and seen the poor sods married to them. They always looks so bloody defeated. No. You are a paragon of virtue, Julia. You are the sweetest woman in all of Christendom.”

  “I think that might be taking it a bit far…”

  He shifted in the bed, and made the mattress rock. However was she going to move his huge arse? He was too big for most men to move, if he didn’t want to be budged, and she certainly couldn’t move him, and he definitely didn’t want to be moved.

  “Freddie, I am warning you…if you don’t get off this bed at once, I shall…”

  “What shall you do, ring a fine peal over me?” he asked, chuckling. “You’re not going to do any of that, love. You’re not a shrew. You are an angel.”

  His bare leg touched hers, and she let out a little scream, and pulled away. He was mad! He couldn’t think to continue on like this. It was sheer madness! And yet, his touch had given her the good kind of goosebumps. She knew where the night would end. He would have taken her maidenly honour, and she would wake up completely ashamed.

  “Freddie, shove off! Or I shall be forced to push you.”

  “Hush up, Julia…you’ll wake up your dragon slayer of a mother, and I don’t think I can take her right now. She can be awfully shrill when she’s in high dudgeon, and my head is already a little sore.”

  “It serves you right! If you come any closer, Freddie, I shall make your head even sorer. I shall club you with my clock.”

  She was reaching out for the clock that sat on her nightstand when she felt him inching closer to her, and before she could move out of his way, he’d pulled her into his arms.

  “That’s better,” he murmured.

  He’d wrapped both arms around her, and pulled so she was securely cuddled against his chest.

  Damnation.

  How could he do this to her? It was putting her in a most vexing situation.

  She was doomed.

  Freddie would make love to her, and she wouldn’t even fight him. She couldn’t fight him. Not when he started to kiss her. His kiss and his touch, lit her world on fire. If he did kiss her, she would let him have whatever he wanted from her.

  Giving into temptation seemed the only option, as his breath moved the hair on her head. She would become a ruined woman, and while the thought should have caused shame to well inside of her, she didn’t feel ashamed at all. She only felt aroused. He always had this effect on her. He caused her to act so wantonly. He made her do things she never thought possible.

  “Please, Freddie,” she whispered.

  “Please, what?” he sounded sleepy now.

  She tried to move out of his grasp. His arms were too strong for her. He had his hands resting right below her chest. If he moved them just a little North…she licked her lips, and swallowed thickly. She was becoming quite heady with the possibilities of what he would do to her on his path to making her a fallen woman.

  Her mind stopped wandering as his snores filled the room. He had bloody well fallen asleep holding her in his arms.

  Wonderful.

  She didn’t know if she should be offended, or thankful.

  She closed her eyes, and attempted to fall back asleep. Sighing, she placed her hand over one of his. He stirred in his sleep, mumbled something she couldn’t quite make out, and then, said, “I love you, Julia. I love you so much, I’d take you to the ballet, theatre, or opera.”

  Smiling, she closed her eyes. She didn’t know if she wanted him to continue to behave, or if she wanted him to wake up after a few hours, and pick up where he’d left off.

  God give her strength.

  She prayed he would wake up and pick up where he had left off.

  *****

  Freddie woke slowly.

  He smiled as he remembered the previous night. It was still fairly dark, though dawn was probably right around the corner. Fortunately, the scullery maid hadn’t made an appearance yet. The morning wasn’t that chilly, so she might not even come in to tend to the fire. If he was lucky, she’d stay away, because he knew there would be hell to pay if Julia thought someone else had spied them together in bed. Even though nothing scandalous had happened…well, nothing that he thought was scandalous, tongues would wag, and Julia would be humiliated.

  She still slept soundly. Her breathing was even and deep.

  God, she felt good wrapped in his arms. She smelled good too. It would be so easy for him to wake her up and turn her onto her back and have his way with her. She wouldn’t fight him. He knew that, and yet, he couldn’t do that to her. The first time for a woman was hard enough, he didn’t want to rush her through it, and then have her feeling guilty afterward. No, he would have her coming to him as his wife.

  Nevertheless, he had to get out of the bed because as his mind was waking, so was his body. Groaning, he let her go, and slowly retreated from the bed. Standing for a moment, he looked toward her large window, and moved to look out it. The sun was rising, a
nd the sky was a glorious shade of pink. He liked being up before dawn. The best day for him was when he saw the sun come up and the sun go down.

  He moved the curtains back in place, and used what little light he had, to have a scavenger hunt for his clothing. He really had been pissed last night. His clothes were all over the bedchamber floor!

  He picked them all up, and then sat in a chair while he pulled on his trousers. He didn’t think he could balance with the sort of headache that tore across his head. Why he had he drunk so much goddamn whisky?

  “Freddie, what are you doing?” Julia asked sleepily.

  He heard the bedclothes rustling, as she sat up. She looked so damn delightful. He wanted to return to the bed, and grit his teeth together to keep himself right where he was.

  “I am slipping out of the room, before your scullery maid happens by.”

  “You are not going to go out the window, are you? I don’t want you breaking your neck.”

  He smiled. “I am not that much of a Harlequin…I mean, Hamilton. You needn’t fear. No, I shall leave the same way I came in.”

  “I…”

  “I shall be careful not to be discovered. Despite my size, I do have the ability to sneak in and out of places undetected.”

  “I have no doubt. Isn’t that how you earned your barony?”

  He chuckled. “Aye…something like that.”

  He watched her bring her knees up to her chest, and cross her arms over them. Her hair was mussed up, and she still looked a little sleepy, and damn it all, all of those things made her look bloody delectable. She was testing the limits of his self-control. He would remain steadfast. He had most of his clothing on. Now he had to locate his greatcoat, and his other riding boot. Where the hell had he thrown it? It looked as if he’d had a grand old time while in his slightly foxed condition.

  “If you are searching for your other boot, it’s over here,” she said, pointing to her side of the bed. He found it on the floor. One end peeking out from under the bed. He’d tossed it with such force that most of it had slid under the bed.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, pulling it on.

  She sighed. “I still don’t think you will get out unnoticed. The servants here are…well, they are everywhere.”

  “Don’t fret, love. I’ll pull it off.”

  She looked a little wistful—perhaps even forlorn.

  “Freddie,” she began, chewing her lower lip nervously. “How quickly can you procure a special license for us? I don’t want any limits. I want us to be married whenever we wish, and as soon as possible. I want us to be married by Michaelmas.”

  “Shall you be my Michaelmas Mistress?” he asked impishly.

  “I would, as long as we are husband and wife.”

  He sobered. “It wouldn’t take us long to make the arrangements with the Vicar,” he said.

  “I know…and yet…I don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe we should choose a different location. Being married at St. Michaels didn’t work so well for us the first time around, and while I had my heart set on a church wedding, Iris and Lewis were married by special license, and their union is none the worse for wear.”

  “It certainly isn’t,” he said.

  “Then, you should go to London, straightaway,” she decided.

  “And…and if I left you…”

  “If you are worried about me falling back in love with Charles, that ship has sailed. I shan’t ever love him the way he deserves to be loved. I feel wretched for not being able to give him what he wants from me, but there is one thing that I can’t do—I can’t marry a man that my heart doesn’t belong to, and you, dear, Freddie, possess my heart.”

  He grinned like a mad besotted fool at her. “I should away now. The hour is growing late, and the house shall awaken shortly, and I don’t think I care to be around when your brother comes out of his drunken stupor, and realizes what I talked him into giving me last night. He will obviously feel dreadful, since he’s a mate of Charles’s, and he gave me the intelligence I needed to spend the night with you.”

  “You slept with me. That is all, Freddie. We have nothing at all to be ashamed of.”

  “Oh, aye, I slept with you, and you slept with me. Had anyone found us lying as we were close together…they would have thought that I had had my wicked way with you,” he said, with a cheeky wink. Infuriated, she tossed one of her extra pillows at him. He chuckled, and slipped out of the room.

  “Goodbye, Freddie.”

  “Farewell, my love,” he said, closing the door softly behind him.

  Julia laid down, and attempted to drift back off to sleep. The room felt empty without him, and she felt bereft. If only he could have stayed with her. They had to marry posthaste, because she couldn’t live much longer without becoming Freddie’s wife.

  However had she gotten along without him in her life?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Julia had slipped back into dreamland, and was having the most wonderful dream about Freddie when the most God awful noise pulled her out of it. Grumbling, she awoke in time to see her mother striding into the room. And by the look on her face, she looked none too happy.

  Her mother went over and rang for her maid. “Oh, you look a frightful mess, Julia,” Beatrice bemoaned. “You’ll have to be quick about it and ready for breakfast…thanks to your nincompoop of a brother, we have guests for our first meal of the day.”

  “Guests?” she asked, her mouth dry.

  Beatrice’s perceptive gaze went to the mussed up bed. “What…what have you been doing in your bed?”

  “Sleeping, Mama.”

  Beatrice’s eyes narrowed, and she sighed heavily, her eyes going to something on the floor. Bending, she picked it up, and as she studied it, Julia’s heart skipped a beat.

  Freddie.

  He had forgotten his watch.

  Oh, bugger.

  “What is this, Julia?” she asked. Flipping it open, her eyes read what was inscribed on the inside, and Beatrice’s mouth fell open. Freddie would have to get a new watch because that gold pocket watch had his old initials inscribed on it. “Have…were…you…and…what…”

  “Whatever you are attempting to verbalize, Mama, no, I didn’t. Freddie wandered in here last night, as foxed as I have never seen him, but you may depend upon the fact that we did nothing we shouldn’t have.”

  Beatrice looked a little faint. She walked over to a chair and sat down. “You will have to find a way to discreetly give this back to Freddie. I hope…I hope the servants didn’t see him, and I do hope that the two of you have plans to marry as soon as possible now. There can be no delay. Is that clear, Julia?”

  “Yes, Mama. He has plans to ride to London for a special license.”

  “Well, I daresay that is a relief,” she sighed. “I want you to wear something pretty and delicate today. I want you to look every part the English Rose. The Duke is still here. I suppose he couldn’t be moved earlier when Freddie made his escape from here.”

  “Mama, nothing happened,” Julia insisted.

  Beatrice still seemed unconvinced. “And, I shall take you at your word, dear. I suppose. I don’t have any other choice, do I?”

  “You can blame Richard for this whole hobble. He was the one that invited them back here for whisky, and he must have suggested that the Duke and Freddie stay here because I take it that he placed him in the Gold Bedchamber.”

  “I am not certain that all of the blame must rest on poor Richard’s shoulders. Your Freddie can be terribly cunning sometimes. He has a way of talking people into doing things. He has a roguishly charming manner, and I only hope he didn’t talk you into doing anything you shouldn’t, at least not until you are his wife.”

  “I say again, Mama, he didn’t. Freddie isn’t that sort of man. He plays games, but not those kinds of games.”

  “I hope he isn’t. Despite all of that, my dear, you will have to look your best, during breakfast with the Duke. Hopefully, you will be charming enough, and he will be hung o
ver enough not to notice anything awry. I wouldn’t want him to get wind of Freddie staying here last night. What would he think? He might think that all English lassies have no willpower…he might think…”

  “Mama…”

  “All right, Julia. I shall drop the subject,” she sighed. “I want you to be nice to the Duke because Freddie isn’t treating him the way a son should treat a father. I know that Freddie resents him, and mayhap, he has reason to, but Julia, the Duke is going through enough hell at the moment. While those from our class might not always wear their heart on their sleeves, and I suspect that the Duke is much like me, he isn’t overtly affectionate with those he holds dear to him, but there is one thing I do know…he loves Freddie, and he is overjoyed to have him back in his life.”

  “Of course he is. He needed an heir,” Julia scoffed.

  “That isn’t the only reason he wanted to find Freddie. Think of the torment he has been through for over thirty years, not knowing if Freddie was dead or alive…and now, knowing what kind of a life he had, when he should have had a life of privilege, why I am quite certain it is weighing heavily on him. The poor man must be in such deep despair.”

  “I think the Duke looks none the worse for wear, Mama.”

  “How we look on the outside, and how we feel on the inside, are entirely two different things, Julia. I daresay, he wouldn’t allow his emotions to escape him for anything.” The maid appeared, and Beatrice sighed. “On second thought, I shall take care of everything, including this.” Her hand enclosed around the watch, so the maid wouldn’t see, and she left, or at least Julia thought she was gone. Her maid was about to shut the door when Beatrice reappeared. “I want you to wear that printed morning muslin frock of yours, with the blue forget-me-nots on it.”

  “Yes, Mama,” she said.

  “Good. That dress makes your eyes shine.”

  “Aye, Mama.”

  Beatrice nodded her head curtly, and departed.

  “Well, Gertie, time for me ready myself for the world,” Julia sighed.

  “Yes, my lady,” the maid said, scurrying to fetch the items she needed, to dress for the breakfast.