A Perfect Mistress

by Barbara Mack

  Jackson kicked the covers off angrily. He sat up on the edge of the bed with his back to her, and Sophie curled herself around his naked, strong back, stroking his thigh.

  “I could have told her that he was never going to marry her. He thought of her as a servant, nothing else. She died of the ague when I was 20, and my father didn’t even come to the funeral. I was her only mourner at graveside. My uncles didn’t come, either. I thought I was going to have to move, but I found out that the house we lived in was in my mother’s name . My father had deeded it to her years ago, and she had left it to me. I was mine to do with as I wished. My father never came back to the house to see me after her death, not even once. He died six years later.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jackson,” Sophie murmured. “My father was horrid to me, but at least he spoke to me on occasion.”

  “About a week after his death, I had a visit from my father’s lawyer. He had left his daughters a most generous amount of cash, enough so that they’d never have to worry about anything for the rest of their lives, but the bulk of the estate went to me. I received a proposition from my half-sisters at the same time I was receiving the news – they’d buy the farm from me if I promised to leave the area. It was a generous offer, and I started to take it.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Jackson lay back down and Sophie scooted to give him room. He rolled to face her, his face troubled. “I don’t know. I suppose it was because they made me angry. They knew who I was – everyone knew who I was. They wanted to pretend that I didn’t exist, the way that they’d always done. If I’d gone away, it would be just like none of it ever happened. It felt wrong. My mother deserved better than that. I deserved better.”

  He smiled wryly at her. “That’s when the trouble began, of course. My sisters wouldn’t live in the house with me even though there was plenty of room for all of us. I invited them through their lawyer, because they wouldn’t speak to me when I went to visit. The oldest one went into hysterics when I rode out to the house and tried to talk to her. I was beneath them. They refused to leave the house, and they refused to live with me. I thought they’d get over it. I thought that I’d move in, and eventually I would have a family.”

  Jackson sighed, and it was a sound that nearly broke Sophie’s heart.

  “I should have known better, I suppose. I gave them plenty of notice and arranged to move in. The night before I was to show up, two men broke into my home in the middle of the night. One held me at gunpoint while the other gouged out my eye with his knife. Just before they left me bleeding on the floor, they told me they’d be back to take the other eye unless I changed my mind about the farm.”

  Sophie put a trembling hand to her mouth. “Oh, Jackson,” she whispered. “What did you do?”

  “I got myself patched up, went to my new home, and threw my sisters out on their fat, languid behinds. They had never married and they had no families, so there were no children involved for me to feel guilty about. They had plenty of money, so they had choices. I brought the sheriff with me and had them evicted. I didn’t bother trying to have them arrested; it wouldn’t have done any good. I didn’t have any proof.”

  “They hadn’t even packed their things, they were so sure I was going to give up and go away. I gave them five hours to get out, and I let them take two carriages. Generous of me, I thought, considering they had just paid someone to maim me.” He gave her a crooked smile. “It didn’t exactly make me popular around Geddes, and when I freed the few slaves my sisters hadn’t sold off after my father’s death and paid them wages to work for me, it got worse. My sisters bought a house together in town, and they spend their spare time reviling me to everyone who will listen. I’m nearly a pariah there, and only a few people speak to me. I don’t leave the farm very often.”

  Sophie flung her arms around his neck. His arms encircled her, and hugged her tightly. “It’s all right,” he said awkwardly. “I only lost an eye, and I got a farm out of it. By a coincidence, the doctor who took care of me had lost an eye as a child, and he helped me come to terms with it, and he helped me figure out ways to get around my sight limitations.” He laughed in her ear. “I ran into a lot of furniture until I got it all figured out.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she said. Tears leaked out on his shoulder, and he cupped the back of her head with his big hand.

  “I’m all right, Sophie. Truly I am. I try hard not to hate my father for the way he treated me and I never hated my sisters. I don’t even hate them now, after all that’s happened. I don’t know why he left me the farm, but I’m grateful that he did. ”

  Sophie blinked at him through tear-filled eyes, and he leaned forward and kissed her softly, his lips clinging to hers.

  “You’ve never been happy, have you? Not even when you were a child. At least I had Delia when I was a child, and David and I had a few good years together. You’ve never had any.”

  He rolled her over suddenly and Sophie squealed, making him laugh down at her. “I know something that would make me happy.”

  “Really?” she asked, her eyes locked to his.

  “Yes,” he said against her neck, his tongue tracing a path down the tendon there, and Sophie shivered.

  “I suppose if I could somehow make you feel better...” She arched up against him and reveled in the way her body felt against his. “I would do anything,” she said throatily. Sophie couldn’t look away from him, and she trembled with the force of the feelings coursing through her. She knew that he noticed, for he gave her a slow smile.

  Jackson saw her pupils dilate with sudden passionate excitement, and he watched the pulse leap in her throat. It set his body on fire to know that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  “You do make me feel better. You make me feel good all the time, Sophie. I’m happy when I’m with you. Not just when we’re in bed. All the time.”

  Then his mouth touched hers, softly and sweetly. He learned the taste and texture of her with his lips so thoroughly that Sophie couldn’t think anymore. It was always that way; when he held her in his arms, everything ceased to exist save the sensation of his body against hers.

  He had not shaved since early morning, and his whiskers rasped against her tender skin when he pressed his cheek to hers. She rubbed her face against his and dug her nails hard into his shoulders. She wanted more. More kisses. More touching. More.

  She moaned the word to him, and he took her mouth hungrily.

  “I burn for you,” he whispered. “Feel how I burn for you.”

  He bit her lip and then soothed it with his tongue, and Sophie went wild. She wrapped her legs around him and urged him on, her nails scoring furrows in his back. They moved faster and faster together, until she cried out his name, he felt her spasm around him, and his own release began. It seemed to come all the way from his spine and last forever. He rolled to his side, his arms tightly around her, pressing little kisses all over her face. He wanted to stay like this forever, with Sophie wrapped his arms. It hadn’t been just pillow talk before; when he held Sophie in his arms, the whole world seemed like a better place.

  Chapter Six

  The trip to Jackson’s home seemed like heaven to Sophie. She didn’t even mind the long hours they spent in the wagon, because each night Jackson rented them a room at an inn or a boarding house, and she spent the night in his arms.

  On their last leg of the journey, Sophie lay in bed beside Jackson, thinking how wonderful it had all been.

  During each day, she rode beside Jackson on the wagon seat, her leg touching his, and they talked and talked and talked. She told him about all the troubling things that Delia had told her, and how, in hindsight, that it was easy to tell how sick Delia and her father’s relationship had been. There had been so many signs, but she had been too young to recognize them.

  He told her of his mother, and how loving she had been. Really, she had been exemplary, except when it came to his father. She had allowed her wishes to over
ride her good sense. In all other ways, she had been a wonderful mother, and he missed her so much some days.

  Sophie told him about David, how good he had been to her, and how much they had loved each other. She told him how devastated she had been when he got sick and died so suddenly, and how despairing she had been when she was forced to live with her father once again.

  They talked and talked and talked, until it seemed they would run out of things to say. But somehow, they never did.

  When they stopped for the night, the talk ended. They would eat dinner in near silence in the public rooms of the inns or boarding houses where Jackson checked them in as man and wife, their eyes meeting often, desire building in them both. They would eat slowly, sitting across each other at the table without touching nearly torture, until Sophie would feel lightheaded from the waiting. They could have served her anything at those meals; she couldn’t have told you what was on her plate. She ate it dutifully, not tasting it, waiting for the moment when they would walk to their room together.

  As soon as the door shut behind them, they were in each other’s arms. Each night, it got better and better, and Sophie wondered if it would be like this always. Would she always feel this overwhelming need to be in his arms? Would his voice in her ear always make her shiver so deliciously, and would he forever want her so badly that he could think of nothing else, as he had told her last night? It couldn’t last forever. Could it?

  Sophie didn’t know, but she hoped so. She had no experience with this sort of thing; with David, it had been entirely different. It was calm and peaceful, and their time in bed had been loving, but she hadn’t craved it. It had been enjoyable, but not necessary to her peace of mind.

  Each morning, when she opened her eyes, a smile came to her face when she saw his head beside hers on the pillow. Sometimes, he was awake and watching her, and sometimes Sophie woke him with soft kisses and strokes. Every morning, they made a late start. Jackson didn’t seem to mind, and Sophie didn’t, either.

  She loved him. She loved Jackson.

  The thought hit her like a bolt of lightning, and Sophie sat straight up in bed where she had been lingering. Jackson stirred beside her and opened his eye to look at her.

  Sophie smiled at him.

  “Good morn…”

  Her greeting ended in a squeak as he pulled her down into his arms with a growl and crushed his mouth to hers. Sophie stopped thinking and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him for all she was worth, holding nothing back.

  She would worry about the future later. She had now, and it was enough.

  ********

  The last day of their journey was bittersweet for Sophie. She longed to get out of this wagon, but she dreaded arriving at the same time. What if things changed? What if Jackson was too busy to make time for her, and what would everyone think of an unmarried woman staying in his home? She knew that Jackson told her he didn’t leave the farm much, but surely he had some friends. Would they shun her, or slight her? Would any decent woman dare to be seen in her company? It had been so long since she’d had a woman friend of her own, and she wanted that again.

  “You’re awfully quiet.”

  Sophie smiled at him. “Just thinking.”

  “Is it thinking that has put the line between your eyes?” He clucked to the horse, which had picked up the pace until he was trotting, even pulling the full wagon. “He knows he’s almost home and he wants his stable. We’ll be at Geddes within the hour, but I’m going to bypass town. I want to get home almost as badly as this horse does.”

  True to his word, Jackson took the road around the town. Sophie looked wistfully back at the buildings she could see from the road. It seemed a nice place. She hoped it was so. Jackson caught her looking.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll bring you back in a couple of days, Sophie.”

  She smiled at him again, holding her tongue. In less than an hour, they turned into a road bordered by trees on either side.

  “My father planted these when he first bought the place. It’s just up over this rise, Sophie.” He grinned at her boyishly. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”

  He stopped the wagon on the top of the incline, and Sophie’s mouth dropped open.

  This was a farm?

  The house was three stories, and a verandah wrapped around the top two floors. Four white columns graced the front of the structure, and there were stairs leading up to the massive front doors. The house was surrounded by flowers, and Sophie fancied that it must take an army of gardeners just to keep it weeded.

  “My father fancied Greek architecture. It’s a bit pretentious, but there’s a lot of room. If you want to change anything, feel free. I haven’t bothered since I moved in, but it would be a relief if you did. I’m not fond of the furnishings but I’ve been too busy to worry with it.”

  Sophie found her voice.

  “Jackson, when you said farm…I never thought…my goodness!”

  “Let’s go on in,” he said, laughing.

  But when they got closer, it was to find some kind of commotion happening in the front drive. A carriage with a driver on top was there, and two women were arguing vociferously with a small man. Jackson cursed under his breath.

  “My sisters,” he said. “This isn’t going to be pleasant.”

  The women were both dressed entirely in black, and Sophie could see that their clothing was good quality, but it wasn’t to her taste. There were more ruffles than were entirely appropriate for women of their age. One was short and stout, while the other woman was tall and thin, but Sophie could tell that they were sisters. They shared some of the same features – and they wore an identical expression of disdain when they looked over at Jackson.

  “Ladies,” he said, doffing his hat. “What’s the problem, Mr. Lakin?”

  “These ladies seem to think they can come here and tell me what to do,” said the man, his chest puffed up and his eyes narrowed. “They’ve been here every day for two weeks, interfering with my schedule, going into the house and getting the cook all riled up.” He glared at the two women, who glared back. “It seems to me that some of the little geegaws you had in the foyer are missing, as well. I can’t prove it, but I got my suspicions.”

  “Everyone knows that servants steal, especially when their master is away,” said the stout one in a high, whiny voice. “We won’t stand here and be insulted by Mr. Lackey.”

  “Lackey! Why, you old…”

  “Mr. Lakin, why don’t you take the wagon down to the stables. I’ll be there in just a few minutes. Have someone bring the supplies to the house for me,” Jackson said smoothly, getting down and helping Sophie out, who clung to him for a moment. Her legs felt weak, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the ride or from being exposed to such ugliness from his sisters. “I’m sure this is just a mistake. One that won’t happen again.”

  Mr. Lakin climbed up and drove off, still muttering to himself. “Would you like to come in for a while?”

  “Absolutely not!” they chorused, and Sophie saw the hurt on his face. Jackson might say that he didn’t care what his half sisters thought, but it was readily apparent to Sophie that he did. If they suddenly threw themselves into his arms and burst into tears of contrition for what they had done, she had no doubt that he would forgive them completely.

  He wanted their love, and he was never going to get it. It broke Sophie’s heart.

  “It’s up to you, of course. But where are my manners? I haven’t introduced you.” He made a gesture towards Sophie. ”This is my …friend, Mrs. Sophie Grey,” he said haltingly.

  “Don’t bother. We only came to the farm because you had been gone for so long,” the skinny one broke in. She lifted her pointed chin and turned away. “We hoped you might be dead. That is our fondest wish. Come, sister.”

  Sophie gasped out loud. The stout one drew herself up and looked down her nose at them both. She spoke again, and Sophie itched to slap her sneering face.

  “I don’t have any
need to be introduced to such trash. No decent woman would associate with you,” she said haughtily. “You know, don’t you, that your friend cares no more for you than anyone else does, so she must be with you for your money. She’s not even worthy of you.”

  They linked arms and stared at Jackson.

  “How dare you!” Sophie started to splutter. Jackson held up his hand, and Sophie subsided. Jackson’s voice was as cold as ice when he answered his sister.

  “You’re right, of course. Some people aren’t worthy to wipe your feet on.”

  Sophie felt the words like a blow.

  She staggered backwards, her face white. He didn’t see the impact his words had, for his back was still to her as he watched his sisters ride away. She put a hand to her chest, trying to hold the pain in, for it felt as if her heart would explode in her chest.

  Truly, she could understand his reasoning, for hadn’t she lied and cheated her way into his house? But, oh, God, it hurt her to have her own thoughts voiced in this way. It hurt to hear him say those things in his cool, beautiful voice, even though she knew it to be true. He deserved to have someone innocent and beautiful in his life, and she was neither of those things. Once, perhaps, before Thomas raped her on the floor in the library, but that was long ago. She should never have let herself hope. This should be a lesson to her.

  “I see,” she said when they were gone and she thought she could trust her voice not to crack and break. Hadn’t she humiliated herself enough, without crying? She must be calm, for her pride demanded no less.

  “Well,” she said. “If that’s the way you feel, I’ll start packing my things, then.”

  He turned back to eye her sharply, and then took both of her shoulders in his hands, giving her a gentle shake. “Don't be ridiculous,” he said, and the caress of his voice made her pulse jump, as it always did. “I meant them, Sophie, not you. They’re old and bitter, and they’re going to be alone forever. Don’t jump to such conclusions. I was going to wait until tonight, but I think I should tell you now: I love you, you stupid woman. I want to marry you and keep you with me forever. I’ve loved you since that first day.”