The Mistress Memoirs

by Jillian Hunter

“I’d like a word with her in private, sir, if you don’t mind,” he said again.

  Why wouldn’t Colin mind? Was he a fool? Why should he give this unromantic Romeo another chance at Kate when he’d told her quite bluntly that she didn’t pass his family’s approval?

  “You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Colin said, his tone grim. “Please be aware that we need to be safely away from here before long.”

  “I understand, sir.” But Wilkes had already started to weave his way to her coach before he waited for Colin to respond.

  What was Colin supposed to do? Act as if there was nothing unusual about leaving his fiancée alone with the man she had hoped to marry before he’d had the devil’s fortune to find her? He paced to the end of the cavalcade. He was anxious to leave.

  Kate had descended from the carriage. Wilkes was walking her slowly toward the wall where Colin had kissed her. The best mistake he’d ever made in his life. What were they talking about? Wilkes bent his head, obscuring Kate’s face from Colin’s sight.

  * * *

  Kate gazed down at the grass. She couldn’t look into Stanley’s earnest face and try to act as if she wasn’t aware that Colin was waiting. She could hardly pay attention to a word of what Stanley was saying. And that bruise on his forehead from her slipper. She winced inwardly.

  “I’ve thought about it,” he said. “I’ve thought about nothing else since the last night I saw you.”

  “It?” she said faintly, noticing how many burdock weeds had sprung up in the grass. Would Mason ever return to notice, or would Colin find him first?

  “Us,” Stanley said, dropping the hand he’d extended so he could touch her shoulder.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” she whispered. “He’s acting as if he can’t see us, but he can.”

  He glanced back at the carriages, where Colin stood, tall, wide shouldered, in the stance of a protective fiancé. “Do you want to run away from him? From this life?”

  She started. “Now? Here?”

  “Well, I’d heard you were leaving, but if I’d known you would be caught in this procession when I arrived, I’d have come to you last night to propose.”

  “To propose marriage? Are you out of your mind? Now? Do your parents know?”

  He swallowed. “No. It won’t be easy for us, starting out together with the little money I’ve saved—”

  “It won’t be a life at all,” she interrupted before he could say anything to make the matter worse. “He’d kill you. And I don’t know what he would do to me, but it’s too late.”

  “Do you mean that you and he have already become lovers? And why is he dressed like a gentleman? Who sent all these servants and carriages?”

  “I can’t explain any of it now.” She lowered her voice. “Do you really expect me to believe you love me?”

  “I believe I might. I thought you loved me.”

  “So did I,” she said gently. “Or I hoped I did. It doesn’t matter now. I’m marrying him.”

  He frowned as if struggling to understand. “I heard a rumor at the smithy that he is of noble descent and that he’s the reason Hay scurried off like a rat. Was Hay behind the attacks?”

  She edged toward the coach. “It should be better now for everyone that he’s gone.”

  “Take this bag. It’s tonic for the children.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled briefly, catching the dark look Colin sent her way. “It wouldn’t have been right for us. You didn’t know about my past.”

  “I know enough about you to realize my mistake,” he said, stepping out of her path. “I wasn’t brave enough. That’s why I lost you.”

  She didn’t look back. She didn’t have the nerve. Colin was striding toward her.

  * * *

  She couldn’t have changed her mind. She shook her head. Something Wilkes said had upset her.

  Colin couldn’t stand it. She belonged to him. Why should he let the man have even a moment with her?

  “Damn him,” he muttered, sensing the curious glances of servants, the maids, the footmen hanging on their straps. “She’s mine.” She’s mine.

  Etta’s piping voice had dispelled the tension.

  Somehow—Colin suspected that Charlie had played accomplice—the young girl had escaped Nan’s carriage and tumbled out the other side into the gravel. “Miss Kate! Hurry up! It’s awful sitting with Nan and not being allowed outside. We’re like prisoners!” A moment later the nursemaid had reclaimed her errant charge.

  Wilkes had followed Kate; she was clutching the bag he had given her. Colin looked the other way, but from the corner of his eye he watched Wilkes walk toward the gates and Kate climb into the coach.

  He joined her and Georgette several moments later. “Ladies, are we ready to leave?”

  Georgette held Kate’s hand, her plaintive gaze riveted to the house. Kate looked at him, and he searched her face—for tears, for regret, for sadness. Then she smiled, and he knew it was all right.

  “Any doubts?” he asked.

  “Not on my part.”

  He glanced out through the doorway at her unfortunate suitor. “Then that’s the last I hope to see of him.”

  She settled comfortably beside Georgette, who had apparently been watching the scene unfold from her window.

  “That was a surprise,” Georgette said. “I was afraid we would be delayed by a duel. I was impressed if a little disappointed at how civil you appeared, allowing them to talk alone. In your place I might have been tempted to intervene.”

  “What makes you think I wasn’t?” he said, laughing.

  “You appeared to be in complete control of your feelings,” Kate agreed.

  He grunted. “I was aware of the children’s feelings. I’ve no desire to give them nightmares for the rest of their lives.” Nor was he about to admit how close he’d come to throttling his competition.

  Chapter 38

  They arrived at the Marquess of Sedgecroft’s Kentish estate an hour before midnight. Even in the dark, Kate was bespelled by the splendor of the sixteenth-century house. It was a place of magic. Moonlight gleamed upon a lake at the end of a park, reminding her of a bolt of water silk unraveled. Mist drifted from the encircling hills, like wraiths coming out to welcome them.

  Elizabethan or Baroque, she was not expert enough to discern the architectural style, but she was impressed by the magnificence of the manor.

  “Is that a tennis court?” she whispered to Colin as the coach rolled to a stop, servants in gold livery swarming to attend the arrivals.

  He stirred. “Yes. One could live on this estate and never miss the rest of the world. My cousins and I warred against one another here in our youth. The brick wings were added on to the original house to accommodate the family’s growth.”

  A footman opened the coach door and released the steps, extending his forearm to Kate. “His lordship awaits your pleasure, milady. We trust you had an uneventful journey.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Georgette woke up at the footman’s voice. “I was asleep almost the entire time. Sir Colin and his betrothed did not sleep much, however. Perhaps they can describe the scenery that I missed.”

  “Apple trees,” Colin said instantly.

  “Wooded hills and half-timbered cottages,” Kate said innocently.

  “In that case,” Georgette said, “you can both sit alone together in the coach admiring the tennis courts while I peek around the house.”

  It was quiet outside, but inside the house servants flittered through the torchlit halls to escort the guests to their individual suites. Kate noticed Colin disappear into a room with a lean, impeccably dressed gentleman who she guessed was his cousin Heath Boscastle. Had he been waiting up to greet Colin?

  Suddenly the splendor of the house, of Colin’s background, gave her pause. She had traveled all day on only two cups of tea, anxiety, and Colin’s reassurances. Could she manage to make a pleasing impression?

  She felt a tug at her sleeve. Etta’s tiny voice carried to the gilt
eagles carved into the ceiling. “Charlie’s right. We’ve seen more busts in this hall tonight than at a corset maker’s.”

  Kate could have melted in mortification. “You have corsets on the mind, child. Where is that young devil?”

  A white-sleeved arm encircled her waist. “I’m right here,” Colin said. “Did you miss me that soon?”

  “Where is that little monkey Charlie hiding?”

  “Heath took him and Brian into the weapons room. Shall I introduce everyone tonight or at breakfast tomorrow before the wedding?”

  She stood, afraid to move, afraid to ask him to explain. Etta, her ears as alert as a French agent’s, was of an age when everything inappropriate enthralled her.

  “Whose wedding? Are you marrying Miss Kate or my mother? Could you marry them both?”

  He released Kate to lean down to Etta’s height. “She’ll explain everything to you in the morning. It’s late now. We need to go to sleep.”

  A servant materialized at Kate’s side. “Are you ready, miss?”

  She stared at Colin. “How can we be married that quickly?”

  “Heath brought a special license from London.”

  “Where am I sleeping?”

  “In the tower.”

  “The tower!” Etta exclaimed. “That’s where the queen is imprisoned before they cut off her head.”

  Colin straightened, smiling into Kate’s eyes. “I intend to keep her, for the rest of our lives.”

  Etta stepped protectively against Kate. “You can’t lock her in the tower for the rest of her life. It’s evil.”

  He looked relieved as Georgette returned with two footmen carrying her luggage. “Mama, Sir Colin is locking Kate in a tower. May I go with her?”

  “No,” Colin and Georgette said together.

  “Then may I go into the weapons room with the boys?”

  “Of course you may,” Colin said, motioning a servant from the corner. “Just don’t take any swords off the wall.”

  “But it’s so late,” Kate said, frowning at Etta’s quick escape down the hall. “They need to go to bed, and I need to—”

  “There are plenty of chambermaids about who are practiced in pampering young guests.”

  “And you’re the one who accused me of spoiling Brian. You’re every bit as bad as I am.”

  He walked her to the spiral stone staircase, a servant following behind. “I hope you sleep well tonight.”

  “I should,” she said, faintly embarrassed that she could hear her voice echo. “The house is so peaceful.”

  He laughed. “It won’t be after tomorrow.”

  “I won’t see you tonight?” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “No. Heath and I need to discuss the future. Perhaps tonight you will have sweet dreams.”

  Chapter 39

  Mason Earling detested traveling by public stage, squashed between the unwashed bodies of endlessly chattering passengers.

  He had not yet in his mind assimilated all that Hay had revealed to him of his father’s deathbed confession or of Georgette’s betrayal. He had no one without her—a whore. But he had trusted her. He had wanted her ever since he could remember. He had watched her fall prey to Boscastle’s unearthly magnetism. He had waited and waited through the years, through her marriage and affairs, until he possessed enough wealth, or so he’d thought, to buy her loyalty. They had met infrequently at parties. At first she had pretended not to recognize him.

  His obsession for her had evolved into love. He’d courted the favor of her governess and of her children, for he believed that Georgette would soon conceive his son or daughter. He thought back to his last conversation with Hay.

  “A private vehicle could carry me to London with far more speed and comfort,” he said, his bitterness growing. “Why can’t I travel with you?”

  “Boscastle is pursuing you. It won’t take him long to discover you aren’t returning to the house. Furthermore, I’ve no wish to be murdered for your crime.”

  Mason had stood in the bustle of the tavern courtyard. “I didn’t commit a crime.”

  “That’s neither here nor there when you’re up against a power that seeks your destruction. Do as I say. I will arrive ahead of you in London and make all the arrangements for your protection before he realizes you have escaped him.”

  “My life, everything I thought was mine, is slipping through my fingers.” He glanced up sharply at Hay. “I insist that I at least send Georgette a letter explaining to her—”

  “Goddammit, no.” Anger contorted Hay’s narrow face. “You’ve ruined your father’s company, your fortune; you’ve tainted my good name with bad practices. You will not contact that whore again, else I wash my hands of you and let Boscastle or the courts do as they must.”

  “I did not murder Viscount Norwood.”

  “Your father’s dying words to witnesses swear that you did. And if you do not like the discomfort of a public coach, I doubt you will find a bullet to the heart on a dueling field or the rest of your life spent in a fetid gaol cell more to your liking.”

  Chapter 40

  Colin sat alone in the drawing room with his cousin Lieutenant Colonel Lord Heath Boscastle. The light from Heath’s cigar glowed red in the darkness. “You look no different to me than you did when we took our female guests hostage in the treasure cave decades ago.”

  “You took your time finding yours,” Heath said, his brow raised. He and Colin shared the common Boscastle traits of black hair, blue eyes, and an intensity of character. Without question Heath was the most private of Colin’s cousins, a man to be admired for his sacrifices during the war. A man one could trust with any secret.

  “I am curious to meet your wife,” Colin said with a grin. “Does she know about the cave?”

  “Oh, yes.” Heath laughed. “Colin, it’s been thirteen years. I wished you’d asked sooner for my help.”

  “It was my pride, I suppose. I thought that I had finally found the man, only to realize how stupidly I had been misled.”

  “Your brothers will want to know.”

  “If they’re still speaking to me.”

  Heath said nothing. It was a revealing silence of the sort that one did not question. Colin shook his head in regret. “I hope Grayson doesn’t mind the inconvenience.”

  “You must be joking. Grayson lives to entertain. His wife thrives on taking family under her wing. They are a splendid couple, but their combined charm is not for the faint of spirit.”

  “I warn you now that I brought an entourage of scandalous characters to this house. My betrothed is companion to the courtesan Georgette Lawson.”

  “I knew I’d heard her name,” Heath said, lowering his cigar. “She’s not as famous as Audrey Watson, but few women are.”

  Colin cleared his throat. “You’ll be hearing more about her soon if she and Kate have their way, which, between you and me, I doubt will happen.”

  “Your note did not provide enough information or time for me to launch a proper investigation into Earling or his company. But I began an inquiry on your behalf before I left London. I shall enjoy helping you, if you’ll allow me.”

  “I would be grateful.”

  “Your father was my favorite uncle,” Heath said, resting his head back on the chair. “He paid more attention to me and my brothers the few times I saw him on holidays than my father did.”

  “I don’t think I knew that,” Colin said.

  “You wouldn’t. My mother covered it well. I only tell you this because we are family.”

  “I have a son, the tall boy you took into the weapons room. For thirteen years the only ‘fathers’ he has known have been Georgette’s protectors.”

  “We will change that,” Heath said. “Julia and I have not been blessed with children yet.”

  Colin let a moment pass before resuming the conversation. “I’d like to leave for London as soon as it is possible. Will I offend Grayson if I do?”

  “Not if you’re leaving half your househ
old behind until other arrangements are made. I doubt anyone will note your absence, to be truthful. A bevy of guests are due to arrive anytime.”

  Colin grinned. “I don’t deserve this reception. But I knew my family would not let me down.”

  * * *

  Kate felt alone and anxious again. A friendly chambermaid led her up the spiral staircase and through a torchlit hallway. She unlocked the arched door at its end.

  “It’s lovely,” Kate said in surprise. Her gaze went first to the writing table and then to the mahogany four-poster hung with velvet bed curtains. A fire glowed in the pink-veined fireplace.

  “Shall I bring you up anything to eat?”

  She glanced at the tray of bread, cheeses, and fruits arranged temptingly on the dressing table. A bottle of white wine and two glasses sat beside it. “That will be more than enough.”

  “No, it won’t,” Georgette said, energetically forcing her way around the chambermaid to the door, a long object covered in a sheet slung over her arm. “Miss Walcott and I are starving and will need a little more sustenance to see us through the night.”

  The chambermaid curtsied, smiling good-naturedly. “But of course.”

  “This is to be my bridal chamber,” Kate said in vexation as the door closed. “I should be allowed a few moments here by myself.”

  “You need a few moments to make a few entries in the memoirs and try on your wedding dress. Don’t deny me that much. You’ll never be mine after you’re married.”

  Kate looked in curiosity at the garment Georgette had draped carefully across the bed, drawing the sheet away to reveal a gown of breathtaking elegance.

  It was a blue silk, banded at the elbows with satin ribbons and a buttoned Valenciennes lace back that flared into darker skirts flounced with white ruffles.

  “Where did this come from?” Kate wondered aloud. “I’ve never seen you in such an elegant dress.”

  “Perhaps you never will. Mason had it made for me from a French magazine. Just don’t tell Colin. He won’t know if you don’t say anything.”