A Perfect Mistress

by Barbara Mack

  The wine had made Sophie bold, and she put out her fingers to touch the warmth of his cheek. He turned his face to her, and she could practically see his desire for her; it emanated from him in waves. He still wanted her; he’d never mentioned mistresses again after that first time, and Sophie had begun to wonder. Part of her wanted him to bring it up again, even while she dreaded the end of their time together. She couldn’t say yes…could she?

  She moved closer and smoothed back his hair, enjoying the crisp feel of it on her fingertips. She smiled into his face and he leaned into her touch. His lips looked so inviting…she leaned forward even further, nearly holding her breath, absorbed completely in the way that she felt when she touched him. Would he kiss her? How would she feel if he did?

  “I was happy, despite my father. Were you?” Her fingers traced the edge of the ropy scar on his face, followed the path of his eye patch, and curled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

  His face turned to stone, and then Jackson turned away. He began to gather up the picnic leavings, putting everything back into the basket with a restrained violence that frightened Sophie more than shouting would have.

  “No,” he said shortly. “We’d better get back. It looks as if it might rain.”

  But when Sophie turned her head up to look, the sun was shining brightly, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

  *********************************

  They barely spoke at all on the way back to town. Whenever Sophie said anything, Jackson answered her in monosyllables. She didn’t know whether he was upset about her touching his scar, or if the mention of his family had upset him.

  Or perhaps he’d changed his mind about wanting her, she thought dully. Perhaps he had taken a disgust with her. She’d drunk too much wine too quickly, after all, and she had behaved in a silly, provocative manner.

  Like Delia did.

  When Jackson pulled up into the alley behind the house, Sophie started to get out without a word. Jackson leaned forward and caught her arm. She looked back at him, startled.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked. “At the park?”

  “If you want me there,” she said softly, her heart singing.

  “Oh, I want you,” he said. “I wonder if you realize how much?”

  Sophie held his gaze as long as she dared, and then turned to go inside. She heard the sounds of his leaving, and turned back at the kitchen door to stare after him.

  She crept like a mouse into the kitchen, surprising the cook, Mrs. Ferguson.

  “Miss Sophie!” the woman said, her fingers pleating her stained apron. “You’d better watch out. Your sister is looking…”

  The door burst open, and the woman’s voice died away. Delia entered the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed. Her lips were thin with displeasure.

  “Just where have you been, missy?” she hissed. “As if I didn’t know! I saw you getting into his vehicle this morning after breakfast. I wanted you to iron my new dress for tonight. I had to get the little maid to do it, and she’s made a right mess of it. I told her I was docking her pay.” She sniffed and shot Sophie a venomous look. “You can just march yourself up to my room and do it again.”

  Sophie took off her bonnet, and folded it slowly, her hands shaking. Claire, ‘the little maid’ was all of 12 years old, and Delia paid her a pittance. Any docking of her pay, and she would be giving Delia money to work here.

  “You are perfectly capable of using an iron, Delia,” she said coolly. “You did it often enough when we were children. I’m not at your beck and call night and day. If you need it done, do it yourself.” She looked her sister straight in the eyes as she said the next words. “And I wasn’t aware you had to vet my friends, Delia. Perhaps you’re more like Father than you care to think.”

  Delia gasped. “So this is the thanks I get! I opened my home to you, I took you in when you had nowhere else to go, my dear sister, and for this you give me insults and snide remarks. I’ve bankrupted myself taking care of you. You refuse to help me, and you’ve taken to running around with my men behind my back!”

  “Running around with your men?” Sophie asked, her anger boiling white-hot. She felt her hands trembling, and she clenched her fists at her side. “I went for a picnic with a man, one man, singular. I haven’t been out of this house in months except to do your shopping, and I deserve a morning off once in a while. And I wasn’t aware you were still interested in him, Delia, since you threw him out of this house and told him not to come back. I’m quite sure you don’t even remember his name. And open your home to me? Bankrupted yourself? Don’t make me laugh! You spent the money ‘your men’ gave you on fripperies, and never put a penny away for a rainy day. That’s your fault, not mine. You only keep me here so that you can work me like a dog without having to pay me anything.” Sophie snorted derisively. ”My dear sister, indeed!”

  “Oh, I see,” Delia said softly. She smiled, and her eyes were cold as ice. “He couldn’t get me to go to his backwater home, so he’s working on you instead. Well, beware, sister: Once he realizes exactly what he’s getting in you, he’ll turn you out like a shot. And who will take you then, sister? Not me! I won’t have you back, Sophie. So if you decide to go with him, you’d better make sure you’re set up right and tight, because you won’t be sneaking around here ever again.”

  Resentment welled up in Sophie, and oh, she felt like a teakettle with hot air built up inside. She wanted to let it spill. She was tired of keeping her mouth shut. She was tired of creeping around the house like a scared little mouse. Sophie crossed her arms and looked her sister up and down.

  ”Oh? Who are you going to get to run your house then, Delia?” she asked sharply. “Servants demand payment, unlike poor sisters. You’d have to actually pay someone, and you couldn’t work them to the bone the way you do me. And what are you going to pay them with, exactly? Good looks? Yours are fading fast, which is why ‘your men’ are long gone and you have no money. You couldn’t do the work yourself, either. You can’t scrub floors or shop for food; it would interfere with your whoring!”

  And Sophie swept out of the kitchen, leaving Mrs. Ferguson hiding a smile behind her hand and her sister gaping after her in angry astonishment.

  Chapter Three

  When Sophie woke the next morning, her first thought was of Jackson.

  She’d tossed and turned all night, not falling asleep until the wee hours of the morning. Her dreams weren’t restful, either; it had started well, with Jackson kissing her, and then had turned darker. Jackson’s face in the dream became twisted with anger and lust, and Sophie had been afraid. She woke with her thin coverlet in a ball, soaked in sweat.

  She ached to be with him, and yet…he frightened her. She knew what he wanted, and she didn’t know if she could give it.

  With a sigh, Sophie swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

  “Just get moving,” she said aloud. “You have too much to do today. You can figure it all out later.”

  Sophie worked hard all morning, but she didn’t mind – she needed to clear her head, and a bit of hard work was just the thing to do it. She scrubbed the entryway floor, helped Claire polish the staircase (while assuring that Delia would most certainly not dock her week’s wages), and helped Mrs. Ferguson with the bread making, all before Delia even stirred from her bed.

  She was seated at the kitchen table, enjoying a rare moment of inactivity, when Delia stormed in.

  “Where is my breakfast?” she demanded. “You didn’t bring it to me.”

  Sophie sipped her tea.

  “It’s on the sideboard,” she said calmly. “You can serve yourself. I’ve been a bit busy this morning.”

  Delia put her hands on her hips.

  “If you think for one moment…”

  “I’m not your servant, Delia,” Sophie told her, putting her cup down on the table with a click. “I’m your sister. I don’t mind working, but I will not be treated badly.” She stood up. “Now, if yo
u don’t mind, I’d like you to leave this kitchen and go away. I really don’t care to talk to you right now, after the remarks you made to me yesterday.”

  “You’ll keep a civil tongue in your head, or you’ll find yourself on the street!” Delia hissed.

  “And you’ll find yourself without anyone to keep your house for you,” she said. “I won’t be treated this way anymore, Delia. I’m going outside to work in the garden, and then I’m going for a walk in the park. When I come back, I expect you to treat me as your sister and not your unpaid help. We can help each other, or we can part ways. You choose.”

  Sophie fumed while she weeded their small vegetable garden. Delia hadn’t heard a word she’d said; she’d stormed out of the room, muttering to herself. She jabbed the spade viciously into the ground. It was her fault as much as Delia’s, as badly as she hated to admit it. Delia treated her this way because she’d let her do it for so long. Maybe if she’d stood up for herself in the beginning, things might be different.

  She decided to put some flower arrangements out, and she moved along the wall that bordered their yard, clipping choice blooms and putting them in her basket. Lord knows they had plenty of vases, and flowers were a cheap way to make oneself feel better. She was humming a sprightly tune when a sudden voice made her jump.

  “What have we here?” asked a teasing voice. “I don’t know which is the more beautiful – you, or those roses.”

  “Jackson!” she said, a smile coming to her face as she whirled around. “Am I late for our appointment in the park? Surely it’s not that time already.”

  He leaned on the low wall and winked at her.

  “No, you’re not late,” he said, and smiled. “I was just impatient to see you this morning. I found myself pacing the floor, and decided to go for a walk. My feet brought me here of their own volition. And just when I was cursing myself and brooding over my bad mood, I saw you there and my mood lifted as if by magic. I couldn’t resist speaking to you, even though we are to meet later in the day.”

  Sophie blushed and looked down shyly. “I’ve been thinking about you, too,” she admitted in a small voice. A satisfied grin spread over his face, and Sophie let her eyes drink him in.

  My, how handsome he looked! He was dressed soberly yet fashionably in a black frock coat, vest, and pants that clung to his muscular thighs. His cravat was snow white, and it set off his dark skin perfectly. Sophie felt her stomach flutter, and she clutched a hand to it.

  “You look very nice today,” she said.

  Jackson laughed. “You’re the only person who thinks so, my dear. I had a hat, but the wind blew it away and I couldn’t catch the blasted thing. A small child cried when he caught a glimpse of my face as I was chasing it. His mother hurried him away and glared daggers at me for frightening him.”

  “No such thing!” Sophie said roundly. “Why, your eye patch makes you look dashing. The frown on your face likely frightened him, I daresay.”

  He laughed again. “Come, put me out of my misery and go for our walk in the park early. Elsewise I might frighten more children with my frowning.”

  “I’d hate to be the cause of more suffering,” she said demurely, and then spoiled it all by grinning broadly. “Let me take the vegetables and flowers inside. I’ll meet you at the front gate in a few minutes.”

  When Sophie opened the kitchen door, the smile that lingered on her face dropped off in a hurry. Delia stood right inside the door, and she didn’t look happy.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed. “I told you…”

  “And I told you. You don’t get to vet my friends, Delia, or make decisions about my life.”

  She brushed by her sister, dropping the basket on the table. She spared a smile for Mrs. Ferguson, who looked frightened and fascinated, all at the same time.

  “The beans are doing well, Mrs. Ferguson. Perhaps we could have them with dinner,” she said brightly, keeping her back to Delia. “And if you wouldn’t mind putting these flowers in water for me, I’ll arrange them as soon as I am back.”

  It was Mrs. Ferguson’s horrified face that warned her. She whirled to face her sister, finding her with a fist raised and her face contorted with anger.

  “You’ll not treat me this way!” Delia howled. “I won’t be dismissed as if I count for nothing.”

  “I’m going for a walk,” Sophie said tightly. “If you expect me to stay here, Delia, you’ll let me live my life as I please. Don’t ever, ever, raise a hand to me again, or I will leave, and I will never come back.”

  “Leave then!” Delia screamed. “I don’t want you here! I never wanted you here.”

  Sophie stared at her, horrified. “Do you really mean that?” she whispered.

  “Yes!” Delia raged. “I mean it. I want you out of here by the end of the week.”

  Sophie stared into her sister’s eyes, but she could see nothing but anger in their depths. No love, no sorrow…nothing but rage and vitriol.

  “Very well,” she said softly. “I will make arrangements.”

  As she walked out the front door, her head was reeling. Jackson was there waiting for her, and he called out a gay greeting. When she didn’t answer him and merely looked shocked, he took her arm in concern, his fingers warm against her cold skin.

  “What is it, Sophie?” His brows drew together. “Are you all right?”

  “Let’s walk,” she said wanly. “Give me a few moments to pull myself together.”

  They paced in silence, and Sophie was glad that he didn’t press. When she did begin to talk, her voice was thin.

  “It appears I must find somewhere else to live. My sister is no longer happy with our arrangement.” Despite her best efforts, her voice caught in a sob, and Jackson pulled her to face him.

  “Why? What has happened, Sophie?”

  “She doesn’t like it that I have been seeing you, but it goes farther than that. She wants me to go back to being the scared little mouse that I was before, and I just can’t do it.” She smiled up at him. “Come, let’s go to the park and walk through the trees. We’ll listen to the children playing and forget my troubles for a moment.” When he hesitated, she gripped his hand tightly. “Please, Jackson. I need that. I’ll tell you about it, I promise, but not now. I don’t want to weep all over you.”

  “All right,” he said slowly. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to calm down before you tell me about it.”

  He tucked her arm under his, and walked slowly through the park with her. Eventually, Sophie felt her heart rate slow and her thoughts calm. The warm breeze and the laughing children were exactly what she needed. After all, who could be unhappy while children played all around them?

  “She’s become unstable,” she said abruptly as they strolled beside a small pond. “Delia, I mean. She’s beginning to act as if I really was her servant and not her sister. She tried to strike me when I said I was going out, and then she ordered me out by the end of the week.”

  ‘What will you do?”

  “I don’t know.” Sophie reached her hand up and trailed it through the strands of weeping willow that stood beside the water. “I will find something.”

  His gaze was warm on her face, and he brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her air.

  “My offer is still open,” he said softly, and Sophie felt her face heat up. “I haven’t mentioned it for fear that I would scare you away, but I think we will do well together, Sophie. I…I find you very attractive, and I know that you feel the same way. I would give you a place to live as long as you want it, and I would make sure that you are taken care of if you decide to leave me. I will have papers drawn up, if that is your worry.” He looked away from her, his mouth compressed. “I will be leaving on Friday,” he said. “I don’t…I can’t stay here any longer. I am needed at home.”

  “Let me think about it,” she said. “I …I will let you know by Thursday, all right?”

  “If you decide against coming with me…I will miss y
ou, Sophie. You’ve made my stay here most interesting.”

  Sophie felt tears sting her eyes and she blinked furiously to hold them back, afraid if she started crying now she wouldn’t be able to stop. “I would miss you, as well,” she said when she could trust her voice. She squeezed his arm against her side, liking the way she felt when she touched him. She felt secure and cared-for, and his touch almost made her forget her troubles with Delia. “I would miss you very much.”

  “You shouldn’t stay with her,” he said softly. “Even if she changes her mind and wishes you to stay, it is time to leave. Come with me. You can stay as long as you like, and leave whenever you wish.”

  Sophie shook her head. “Let me think on it,” she said. “I promise you that I will leave that house, even if Delia changes her mind.”

  He turned to face her, his gaze intent. Suddenly his arms surrounded her, pulling her close, and his mouth touched hers in hunger…a hunger that caused her heart to race. She made a sound in her throat and put her arms around his neck, wanting more. Jackson broke away, breathing heavily, and looked at her with desire in his eyes.

  “I won’t do this,” he muttered. “I won’t convince you this way. Come to me with your decision, Sophie. I promise to not try and sway you any further.” He grinned crookedly. “Now I must take you home, before I embarrass us both by begging.”

  Sophie’s chest heaved and her heart felt heavy. “Perhaps that is best,” she said.

  “You’ll meet me here tomorrow?” His voice was diffident, and he didn’t look at her. Sophie smiled to herself.

  “Of course. You make my day brighter.”

  He still wouldn’t look at her, but he smiled to himself, and he held her hand all the way to the front gate. Sophie turned to look back at him before she opened the front door, and he waved before turning away.

  “My lord, he’s adorable,” she whispered to herself. She watched him walk away. “A big, strong man one minute and a little boy the next. I don’t know if I want to pinch his cheeks or kiss him senseless.”