The Mistress Memoirs

by Jillian Hunter

  “There might be one,” she whispered, stretching her spine to encourage or elude him, she wasn’t sure. She was enslaved to the frantic desire that consumed, confused her.

  A moment later he sank his middle finger high inside her until he found the membrane of her hymen. She gasped, her eyes searching his in shock and uncertainty.

  “Intact,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you have guarded your purity for this long, not when Georgette’s suitors must have wished you were available as a side course. I want you quite desperately. I hope you’re not wasted on that boy who cowered with you in the flowers instead of defending you like a man.”

  He rolled away from her and to his feet, snatching the shirt he had hung on the fireguard to dry. Her body felt unfulfilled, flushed and eager for the decadent pleasure he had tendered and taken away. “I dislike you very much right now,” she said to his shadow. “Stanley is not a coward.”

  “If you say so.”

  “He’s a man.”

  “I shall have to take your word on that.”

  She braced her weight on her elbow only to fall back as he turned without warning and looked down at her. The beguiling darkness of his gaze made her think of coal before it becomes diamonds. She stood slowly; she was afraid she’d sink once more into the drugged spell he had cast.

  “He’s the most decent man I’ve ever met.”

  He laughed. “Well, no one will make that claim about me.”

  “He took a risk coming to the house to bring the medicine for Etta.”

  He let her struggle for a full minute with the hooks at the back of her gown before he stepped over to her and completed the task. Her hands were shaking, clumsy.

  “I’ll never trust you again.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “You’ve mucked up everyone’s life,” she whispered, the words catching in her throat.

  He hesitated. “Not on purpose.”

  She spun around. “Can’t you control yourself?”

  He stared at her with unflinching calm. “Obviously not.”

  Shame and longing crossed swords in her heart. “Go to hell.”

  “It’s only a matter of time.”

  “I will not get back on that horse with you,” she said.

  “Yes, you will.”

  “I’d rather swim in a sea of mud.”

  His voice deepened. “If anyone asks, and they will, why we are late returning to the house, you can say I insisted we wait out the worst of the storm. With any luck, Brian’s return will have provided enough of a distraction.”

  She swallowed. “I was convinced Georgette was exaggerating when she said you were shameless. If you’re so desperate for a woman, why didn’t you visit the widow you met today in the village? It was obvious you were flirting with each other.”

  He bent and felt around the floor for his pants, shaking his head as if the answer were obvious. “If I’d felt the slightest twinge of desire for her, I would be in her bed right now.” He picked up the half boots and stockings she had discarded. “I can’t even remember what the woman looks like. Yet tonight when I am unable to sleep, I will think of how beautiful you are and how badly I fought not to wield every secret I know to make you mine.”

  She blinked back tears as he knelt to help her put on her boots. “Could I be any more gullible?” she said in self-contempt. “I believed you when you told me you needed to talk to me alone.”

  “That was the truth, although I don’t fault you for distrusting me. I know that you love Brian and that you and he share a special bond. Perhaps I don’t deserve an honest answer. I will demand it all the same. Is he my son, Kate? Is it coincidence I see myself whenever I look at that boy?”

  * * *

  She lifted her head and met his searching gaze. Was that why he had brought her here, to weaken her defenses so that she would betray Georgette? No. He had not caused the storm or made Brian run away. He had merely taken advantage of a woman who yearned for what she had never known.

  “I wasn’t working for Madam at the time of Brian’s birth,” she said evenly. “I know he was born at full term after she married Mr. Lawson, and Brian was brought up as his son.”

  “Have you seen his certificate of birth? A marriage document?”

  “I most certainly have not. It isn’t my business to read my employer’s personal records.”

  He glanced away.

  “Perhaps you should ask her yourself.”

  “Perhaps I should.”

  Georgette had married the old gentleman two weeks after she realized she was pregnant. Her husband was delighted with his son. In gratitude for giving her his name, she had produced Charlie a few years after their marriage and was dismayed when after only a year Etta was conceived.

  Mr. Lawson loved them and passed away in his sleep before Etta’s first birthday.

  Kate felt it was wrong of her to withhold the entire truth. But she had pledged her loyalty to Georgette, and not even Colin would provoke her to break her promise. Still, she believed he had a right to know and that one day he would find out.

  Chapter 22

  Georgette woke up to the sight of rain slashing against the windows. It was a rare night when anything disturbed her laudanum-laced dreams. Why had Kate forgotten to draw the curtains and recount how she and the children had passed the day? Perhaps Kate had caught this nasty cold that had given Georgette a throbbing headache and broken her sleep.

  She shoved off the bedcovers and walked in reluctance to the window. Then she remembered. Brian had run away in this miserable rain and had been brought home. Nan had come flying into the room after the fact to inform Georgette. Or had it been Lovitt? She couldn’t sort out the sequence of events. She was a dreadful mother, and now, because Colin had reappeared in her life, she would lose the only man who was fool enough to claim he had loved her since she was a young girl.

  Mason, a murderer. She would have wagered her soul that he was incapable of a criminal act. He was the most generous lover she had ever taken. But then, it was easy to spend the riches that one had stolen. Perhaps his generosity appeased his guilt. It was disturbing to realize she had grown fond of a man who could one day slip poison in her wine to be rid of her.

  And yet she believed Colin. She believed him even though he had caused her unforgettable pain. She believed—

  She reached up to draw the curtains and froze at the sound of light footsteps in the hall, the familiar creak of a door opened and closed. That was Kate’s door. Surely she hadn’t spent half the night with the children. Where had she been? Not out in this rain alone.

  She placed her hand on her heart. “Oh, no.” It couldn’t be.

  But she knew it was.

  Her innocent companion was falling in love with Colin. It was probably too late to be undone. Georgette should have intervened earlier. Now there was only one way to spare Kate a broken heart. Kate would have to beat the master at the game of seduction.

  It would be a challenge, but Kate had a backbone. Even better, she could receive lessons in passion from a woman who was writing a book on the subject.

  * * *

  Kate had just reached her room, washed with cold water in her hip bath, and changed into a warm night rail when she heard the urgent knock on her door.

  She decided to ignore it. The children were asleep; Brian was penitent and quiet. How much strain could she take before she collapsed? Hadn’t she been through enough tonight? The past week? The last decade?

  “Miss Kate, please, open the door. It’s me, Lovitt. This is urgent.”

  “Is anyone ill?”

  “No,” he said. “Well, I feel sick.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She went to the door and unbolted it. Lovitt entered her room without hesitation.

  “I’ve something to confess, miss. It’s bad.”

  She sighed. “Why does everyone have to confide in me? Why don’t you go to Mrs. Lawson if this matter is so important?”

  “I did,” he said
, his sandy brown hair still damp from the rain. “She said I should come to you for advice.”

  “Did you explain how important it is?”

  “No. She kept falling asleep whenever I tried to explain what I’d done. I doubt she’ll even remember I was in her room when she wakes up.”

  “Fine.” She sat at the edge of her bed, her braided hair draped over her shoulder, and sighed. “Confess. And then let me sleep. I’m frazzled.”

  “You won’t hate me forever?”

  “What have you done, Lovitt?”

  “It’s pretty bad.”

  She made a fist at him. “Out with it, or I just might punch you in the nose.”

  He blinked. “Criminy. Maybe I should face him myself. If I’m going to be brutalized, it might as well all be at once.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I visited Mr. Earling’s solicitor today.”

  “That’s what Nan was talking about,” she said with a frown. “She saw you.”

  He hung his head. “I thought I’d be out of there before you reached the village, but Hay wasn’t in when I arrived, and I had to wait and then dash home before you all returned.”

  She was wide-awake now. “Why would you go to a solicitor?”

  “I went there to complain about Castle, to tell Hay that I didn’t trust him—”

  “Oh, dear God.”

  “—and that I thought he had some ill motive in mind, but then halfway through our talk, something happened to change my mind. I stopped making it sound as if Castle was dangerous.”

  Kate stared at him. “What are you saying?”

  “I made it seem as if he were merely eccentric instead.”

  “What? You’re the one who sounds off.”

  “I figured he wouldn’t link an eccentric groom to Sir Colin Boscastle.”

  “You knew all along?”

  He met her gaze. “I heard you and Madam talking, and I figured it out. I didn’t tell Mr. Hay, though.”

  “What stopped you?” she asked, shaking her head at his foolishness.

  “When I was in the waiting room, I saw another man come out of the clerk’s office with a purse. I thought at first he’d gotten an inheritance. Then I realized I’d seen his face before. In the pub.”

  “And?”

  “And in the garden the night we were attacked. It took me a while to put it together. Mr. Hay paid those men to attack the house.”

  “What—”

  “I know Hay never approved of Mrs. Lawson. And he’d approve of her even less if he knew she’d given his client’s enemy sanctuary in his house.”

  She took a breath. “Is that all, Lovitt?”

  He sighed. “Not quite. Hay’s coming the night of the play to inspect the house for Mr. Earling and to meet the new head groom for himself. But what if Hay decides to pay a sneak visit beforehand? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Kate almost fell back on the bed. “Oh, no.”

  “You’ll have to warn Castle, Kate. Or hide him. If it’s true that Mr. Hay is behind those attacks, he won’t hesitate to use force on Sir Colin.”

  “Why don’t you warn him?”

  He swallowed. “I’m afraid of him.”

  “So am I.”

  “Yes, but he likes you. Everyone in the house can see that.”

  * * *

  Kate’s robe kept snagging on the ladder to the loft. Her hair came unbraided. She couldn’t see well. She hadn’t dared carry a candle through the straw. Colin was stretched out on his stomach on a pallet that he’d drawn up to a dormer window.

  He didn’t move. It appeared he was asleep. Perhaps she would wait until morning. No. This couldn’t wait. He had to be warned.

  “Colin,” she whispered. “I need to talk to you.”

  He swung over, his arm capturing her before she could even cry out. “Listen to me,” she said impatiently. “I’m not here to play games.”

  He forced her onto her back. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses—or lost them, whatever the case may be. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you went into the house.”

  His dark face hovered over hers. She had time to take a breath, to deny him, and then his mouth descended. He kissed her hard and deep, into a daze. He stroked his knuckles over the contours of her breasts until her nipples puckered against her night rail. His kisses wandered lower.

  “Nice,” he said, wetting the tender peaks through the thin cotton with his tongue until two dusky tips protruded. “I wish you’d been in the mood for me when I had you to myself in the lodge. I knew you’d come to me sooner or later.”

  She laughed quietly. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. You don’t know why I’m here yet. We have another problem to confront.”

  “The problem will have to wait.” He raised her robe and night rail up around her bottom. His fingers stole across her bare hip. His voice immobilized her. “I wonder if you’re still wet for me. I could play with your quim for hours.” He slid between her thighs, braced on his arms above her. “And this,” he said, rubbing his prick against her mound. “If I could shed these trousers and evict the other grooms below, we would soon be better acquainted.”

  “I’m surprised you sleep with your clothes on at all,” she whispered, breathless from climbing the ladder and from him. “Can’t they hear us?”

  “Not likely. They sleep at the other end of the stable block.”

  “Well, keep your voice down, anyway. I’m in no mood to explain our situation.”

  He laughed softly. The weight of his body held her captive, unsure of surrendering her will. She waited for the familiar panic to intrude, for the ugly memory to forbid her to feel any pleasure. But all she felt was a gentle power that would possess her as soon as she gave her permission.

  It was all she could do not to protest as briefly he lifted himself from her. Damp air rushed over her to counteract the heat he had provided. “What are you doing?”

  He hovered over her. The rigid column of his penis pressed between her thighs. “What would you like me to do?”

  She lifted her hand to his shoulder. His muscles contracted, and she slid her hand down his chest in helpless desire, following the ridges of ribs and sinew to the light sprinkling of hair at his waistband.

  “Touch it,” he said, his voice beguiling.

  She did. Her fingers felt the length and thickness of his cock in a caress that provoked a soft growl from his throat. “I came here because—”

  She closed her eyes, heard him shift again. She should have waited until morning. She gasped in surprise as he used his elbows to push her knees apart. He pressed his finger inside her sheath. She lifted her hips in restless uncertainty.

  “More?” he whispered roughly.

  She bit the inside of her cheek to smother a cry. “Please.”

  Another finger stretched her wide, slipping out and back inside before she could move. Faster, then harder. Her nerves knotted. His thumb probed the seam of her bottom. She opened her eyes only long enough to see his face disappear, dip between her thighs.

  “You aren’t—”

  His illicit mouth fastened on the bud of her sex. His fingers worked her without mercy. Her temperature rose. Her breasts felt heavy. And the pressure in her belly crested, infusing her with a hot rush of relief as he removed his fingers and stabbed his tongue between her folds.

  Long moments ticked by before she stirred, listening to the tapering rain, the horses shuffling in the stalls below. She could have fallen asleep. She felt him shift position. She forced her eyes open, shivered at his possessive stare. His breathing sounded uneven and deep.

  “I forgot to tell you why I came here,” she murmured.

  He drew her robe and night rail down to her ankles. “I think we know why.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  He gave her a knowing smile. “You don’t have to admit anything. I’m here whenever you need me.”

  She laughed in reluctance, wishing she could hide her face. “What
a consolation that is.”

  He leaned over her. “Day or night.” He kissed her on the mouth. “Rain or shine.”

  “In sickness and in health?”

  He stared at her.

  “That’s what I thought.” She rose to her knees. “Lovitt wanted me to talk to you. He was afraid to tell you himself.”

  He shrugged and sat back on his heels, his shirt hanging over his trousers, his face curious. “If it’s about Brian running away, Lovitt can redeem himself with a week’s extra work. The storm will leave a mess.”

  “It isn’t.” She swept her hair back from her face. “You know he’s been jealous of your ‘position’ since you gave it to yourself.”

  He nodded. “I should have thought ahead to that, but if it’s any consolation, I don’t plan to spend the rest of my life as a groom.”

  She wondered if he’d made any plans at all beyond making Mason pay for his crime. “That’s not the problem,” she said in an undertone. “Lovitt was so enraged, so certain that he’d been cheated out of his due, that he told Ramsey Hay today that you are a suspicious character and he doesn’t trust your motives.”

  “Why didn’t Lovitt come to me first?”

  “Probably because you are a suspicious character and—”

  “—he doesn’t trust my motives. Damn fool.”

  “How well did Ramsey Hay know you?”

  “He knows of me. He knows enough about me, I would guess, to wonder who I am. He must have seen me years ago. But I don’t suppose it’s common for men to drop in on Georgette and ask for a hand in hard times.”

  “Oh, it’s very common,” Kate said with a sigh. “But I would say that none of them have been as forceful in asserting their authority as you.”

  “Well, perhaps Georgette is still more attached to me than I realized. For reasons she has not explained.”

  “Perhaps.” And if he thought to trap Kate into admitting Brian was one of those reasons, he would be disappointed. “Mr. Hay said he would pay a visit soon to the house on his client’s behalf. He usually attends the theatricals that I perform.”