“Yes. My estate is only a day and a half’s travel from London, and there is a pleasant inn along the road that would be suitable for a stop. We could conclude your training there.”
She wrinkled her brow, a look of continuing confusion on her face. “Why?”
“There will be no distractions there,” he explained, again thinking of his father, of the Society that had apparently taken a new interest in him, even of his brother and the happy union he was building. He was finished with it all. At least for a little while.
“There is great privacy so I can tutor you even further,” he continued as he shoved those thoughts aside.
God, what he could do to her there, when he had her in his home, in his bed. He could possess her in every way and surely that would purge this desire he continued to feel for her. And at home, his real home, he would feel more himself.
Lysandra nodded slowly. “Now that my mother is safe and happy away from my cousin and his moods, I see no reason why I couldn’t leave the city for a time. I will go to her tomorrow and make some excuse about my disappearance.”
He smiled. “Then you will come with me?”
She nodded, but he sensed a hesitation that he chose to ignore. Instead, he leaned over her and kissed her, deep and hot and heavy. She relaxed at the onslaught of his passion and he lowered her back onto the pillows.
“After you talk to her,” he whispered, “we’ll depart. In two days we will be there. And everything will be different.”
But as he let his fingers travel down to the place where her legs met and began to gently stroke her, he tried to ignore the loud, insistent voice in his head. The one that told him he was running. The one that said he could never truly make anything different.
Not even with this woman.
Chapter Nineteen
Lysandra sat perched on the edge of a pretty little settee, preparing tea as she waited for her mother to join her. She looked around with a contented sigh. The house was small but perfect for her mother. The rooms were pretty, the servants were kind. For the first time, she felt like everything she was doing, everything she had sacrificed, was worth it.
The door to the parlor opened, and she stood as her mother stepped into the room.
“Dearest,” she said, pressing two kisses to Lysandra’s cheeks. She looked at her, and Lysandra shifted.
Her new gowns had been delivered that morning. Not one, as she had requested, but five. Andrew had intervened with Madame Bertrande and chosen the fabric himself.
They were beautiful gowns, ranging from everyday outfits to riding frocks, and of course her gorgeous evening gown that was probably being packed up by her servants as she stood here.
What they were not, however, were the gowns of a servant. Even a high-ranking one, as Andrew had explained to her mother that she was.
“Sit down, Lysandra,” her mother said, her tone soft. “We’ll share tea.”
She nodded. “How do you like your new home?”
Her mother smiled. “It is lovely. I’ve actually had friends to visit in the last week. Imagine, actually seeing a friend without having to ask permission.”
Lysandra shut he eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mama. I didn’t fully realize how terrible a situation it was for you at August and Marta’s home. If I could have taken you away sooner—”
Her mother shook her head and covered her hand briefly. “Lysandra, you did not create this situation. You must stop blaming yourself for it and taking responsibility for fixing it. Your father made bad choices. Perhaps I should have been more aware of those choices. But it was never your duty to save me.”
“I didn’t do a good job of it, even if it was. I plopped you in the middle of a home where there was no warmth or care for you.” Lysandra sighed. “But you are out of there now.”
“At what seems to be a high cost,” her mother said, looking at her gown again.
Lysandra gripped her hands at her sides and then ignored the comment. “This will have to be a very quick tea,” she explained. “I came to tell you I’m leaving Town for a little while.”
Her mother hesitated before she drew a cup toward herself. “I see. Where are you going?”
Lysandra cleared her throat and took a sip of tea to wet her suddenly dry throat.
“Lord Callis has decided to return to his country home for a short time. And so he’s packing up his household.”
“And bringing the servants with him?” her mother asked. “I would have thought he’d have a whole other set of them awaiting him in the countryside.”
Lysandra hesitated. Blast! In her excitement to leave London and escape to the country with Andrew, she hadn’t actually thought that part of her story out so very well.
“S-since I’m so new,” she began. “I think he thought I needed training—”
“There are no servants in London who could train you here?” her mother pressed.
Now she was holding Lysandra’s gaze evenly, her grey eyes filled with the same stern quality that they had held when Lysandra was a naughty child.
“You see—that is—” she stammered.
“Please stop, Lysandra,” her mother said on a sigh. “It is evident you are lying. Your cheeks have those two spots they always have gotten when you told a falsehood.”
Lysandra dropped her gaze to the hands clenched in her lap. “I-I’m not lying.”
“How long have you been Lord Callis’s lover?” her mother asked.
Lysandra jerked her gaze toward her mother. In the past few years, Regina Keates had grown withdrawn, almost fragile, but looking at her now was like looking back in time to the woman she had been before her husband’s death. Before she lost everything. Her arms were folded, her jaw set, and grim determination lined her mouth.
“Only a fortnight,” Lysandra said softly.
“I see.” Her mother shook her head. “And what are the intentions of this relationship? I assume he does not plan to marry you, or you two wouldn’t have gone to the lengths to lie to me about you being a servant. Are you his mistress?”
“I’m not comfortable talking about this, Mama,” Lysandra said, rising to her feet and pacing to the window. Her mother had a beautiful view from her bay window of the park across the street. Out there men and women strolled arm-in-arm, and Lysandra flinched at how open they could be with their intentions and affections.
“You had a good position in the Culpepper house,” her mother pressed. “How did things become so desperate?”
Lysandra turned to look at her mother. She seemed…disappointed, and that broke Lysandra’s heart. Anger she could have borne. Sadness would have been better. But disappointed…that was the worst.
“Culpepper tried to take something from me,” she explained. “When I refused to give it, he let me go and proceeded to ruin any chance I had of obtaining another post. I tried to find other work, Mama. I was too ‘high-class’ for the lower establishments. Culpepper had poisoned the higher.”
Her mother gripped the arm of her chair as pain ricocheted all over her face. Finally, she nodded. “I see. Of course.”
“I never would have thought to do this, to become a man’s mistress, if the situation had not been dire.” Lysandra sighed. “August demanded more and more money and favors to keep you in the house and I had no funds left.”
Her mother stared at her. “Why didn’t you come to me? At the very least, I would have been someone to share your troubles. And perhaps we could have thought of some alternative solution.”
Lysandra sat down again with a thud. “I suppose that would have been best, but I didn’t want to trouble you with my problems. Not when you were still so sad, so devastated by everything that had happened.”
She stopped before saying more. She had treated her mother exactly as Andrew described his family treating him in his grief. As if they knew better what and how he should be. Like he was glass.
“I’m sorry,” she added. “I realize now that I took this problem, which belonged to both of us
, and made it my own.”
“I’m sorry you had to shoulder the burden without anyone to talk to,” her mother said, tears glimmering in her eyes. “Is there not any other way?”
Lysandra shook her head. “Even if there once was, it is gone. I’m on this path now, Mama.” She blushed. “Things have been done that cannot be taken back. And to be truthful, it hasn’t been as terrible as I once imagined. Lord Callis…Andrew… is a kind man.”
Her mother nodded. “Yes. He was nothing but kind to me when we met. A true gentleman. At least I know that you have a good protector.”
Lysandra bit her lip. Her mother had asked her for honesty. And now that was going to be put to the test.
“Actually, Mama, he isn’t going to be a permanent protector for me. I visited a woman—her name is Vivien—and she asked him to… This is indelicate, I apologize… To train me in what a mistress is required to know.”
Her mother blushed. “Oh. Oh, I see.”
“But he has been nothing but kind and generous,” Lysandra hastened to add. “I’m certain he will be helpful in my finding a more permanent protector once this time between us is…over.”
She hesitated in saying the last word because it actually hurt her to do so. Over the time they had spent together, the idea that what they shared would end had become a more and more foreign and a less and less pleasant concept. How could she be with another man like she had been with Andrew?
Her mother tilted her head. “You care for him.”
Lysandra blinked. “No. I mean, of course, I care for him as one person cares for another. He is a friend to me. A good friend. He has shared something with me I could never share with another.”
“With every sentence you come closer to admitting you love him,” her mother said with a smile that was sad rather than pleased.
Lysandra shoved to her feet a second time. “No. I don’t love him. There are not many rules a mistress must follow, but that is one. Falling in love with a protector would be…foolish at best. And what Andrew and I share will be over in another few weeks. I will return to London where Vivien will match me with a man.” Lysandra looked at her mother. “Andrew has said that he will ensure you are still allowed to stay here, though. You’ll never be forced to return to that awful house again.”
Her mother’s face softened with relief, but then she said, “A lot of trouble for him to go through for a woman he has no intentions of keeping.”
Lysandra shrugged. “Perhaps, but that is just the kind of man he is.”
There was a long silence between them and then her mother said, “So he is taking you away to the country, then?”
She nodded. “Yes. For a short time. I will write to you so that you will know I’m well and settled in. And the servants here have our direction there, so you may write to me, or if there are any emergencies. Oh, and Andrew has promised me that August will not be welcomed here by the servants, unless you choose to allow him entry.”
Her mother laughed. “Ah, I’m sure August was very unhappy with all this.”
Lysandra laughed too. “You should have seen his face. Andrew hit him and he looked like a schoolchild racing around trying to cow to ‘his lordship’s’ orders.”
For a moment, they shared a giggle at the idea. Then Lysandra moved toward the door.
“Andrew is waiting for me, though. I should go.”
Her mother stood and followed her to the foyer. At the door, they embraced and as they parted her mother said, “Dearest, do be careful. I don’t have any experience in the world you have been forced to join, but I do know that physical…attachment can lead to love. And if that is the only rule you should not break, then I worry for you.”
Lysandra touched her face. “I do love you, Mama. Enjoy your new home and I’ll write to you as soon as we have settled in the country.”
She turned toward her carriage at the bottom of the drive. But as she got inside and Wilkes shut the door behind her, her smile fell.
Her mother was treading far closer to the truth than she would have liked to admit. There were many rules meant to be broken in life, but she feared that if she broke this one it would be the end of her.
Chapter Twenty
Lysandra had always been impressed by Andrew’s London home. Unlike her cousin, who depended on gaudy trinkets to shout to the world about his wealth, Andrew was more subtle. But his country home… It took her breath away as they rounded a corner and entered the gate.
The house was situated on a hill overlooking a massive lake and wide, green expanses of hill and valley. Marble columns supported the structure. It was something out of a fairy tale. Or one of those books by the anonymous author that were all the rage these days.
“What do you think of Rutholm Park?” Andrew asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the same view she was.
“It’s wonderful,” she breathed. “Andrew, it’s beautiful.”
He smiled as he leaned back. “It’s been in the family for hundreds of years and was a favorite spot of mine as a child. When I took on the title of Viscount at my majority, I was thrilled that my father offered me this estate as my own. But I suppose, knowing my love for the place, that was why he did it.”
Lysandra glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Already she was learning much more about Andrew than he ever would have shared in London. And in the last few hours, he had begun to be…relaxed. As if a weight was lifted from him.
“Ah, looks as if the staff is ready for us,” he said as he glanced out the window again.
Lysandra followed his line of vision and tensed. At least ten servants were lined up at the staircase as the carriage pulled to a stop.
“Oh, Andrew,” she said, squeezing back against the carriage wall as if that would make her disappear. “I wasn’t expecting an audience for my arrival. What will they think of me?”
He frowned as he looked at her. “Think of you? They’ll think you are a lovely woman who is my guest.”
He stepped from the carriage and offered her a hand out, but as she took it, Lysandra couldn’t help but marvel at the disconnect Andrew truly had from the servants. She had been one not so very long ago. They always talked and judged belowstairs.
And it underscored how very different her world was from his.
She forced a smile as he approached the staircase and began to greet the servants. He introduced her only as Miss Keates with no other explanation for her arrival. They must have known she was accompanying him, for Lysandra saw no hint of surprise or reaction on their faces as they welcomed her.
Slowly, as she relaxed, she began to watch their faces not for their response to her, but to Andrew. All of them smiled widely as they said hello, welcoming him home and saying how much they had missed his presence. And, to her surprise, their response seemed utterly real. There was no doubt that the staff adored their master. But of course, they would. He had proven again and again to be a decent man with a generosity of spirit.
But there was something else, too. Once he had passed by a servant, often their gaze followed him for a fraction too long. They seemed concerned, worried…afraid, just as she had thought that Sam seemed afraid at the opera. Again she wondered what could cause that kind of deep emotion.
Eventually, they reached the top of the stairs where a butler was awaiting them. He was a middle-aged man with dark hair that had a touch of grey about the temples. He was dressed smartly and had a no-nonsense way about him that wasn’t unfriendly, but very calm. He didn’t seem the kind of man who would suffer fools lightly.
In short, the perfect fit for a servant for Andrew.
“Ah, Berges,” he said with a wide smile. “I trust everything has been right during my absence.”
“Welcome home, my lord. And yes. Everything has been right as rain.”
“This is Miss Keates.” Andrew motioned toward her, and the servant nodded with just the right level of deference. Unlike the other servants before him, he took a slightly longer look at her, though Lysandra
couldn’t tell if he was judging her or not.
“The bags are already being taken to your chamber, my lord,” the butler said. “May I offer you refreshment of any kind?”
“No, we had tea in Crosswater at Mrs. Tate’s,” Andrew said with a smile.
“Ah, yes. She does a lovely tea there at the inn,” the butler said with a brief nod.
Lysandra’s eyes went wide as she watched them talk. They were so friendly with each other. There was respect there, yes, but also something deeper. But perhaps that was what happened once a household had gone through a tragedy like the death of Rebecca Callis.
“I believe Miss Keates and I will take a walk around the grounds, have a bit of air after that carriage ride,” Andrew said. “The weather is meant to be fair only a day or so longer, and I would hate her not to see the estate once the rain begins.”
“Of course. Your supper will be ready at seven.” The butler now turned to her. “Welcome to Rutholm Park, miss. If there is anything you need during your stay, please don’t hesitate to ask me or anyone on the staff. We are at your disposal.”
Andrew took her arm as the butler gave a stiff bow and disappeared back into the house.
He smiled at her. “You see, no judgments.”
She shrugged. “Belowstairs reactions and abovestairs are often very different. But your staff seems very nice, and I’m certain they’ll never let me know whatever they are saying about me behind my back.”
Andrew shook his head. “I cannot believe that is true.”
She laughed. “That is because you’ve never truly been belowstairs, my lord. It’s a whole different society than the Society you are a part of. But just as ruthless.”
“I am fascinated that this is what is going on beneath my very nose,” Andrew said with his own chuckle as they walked out onto the lawn toward the lake she’d seen from the carriage. “I would love to be a fly on the wall then.”
“Probably not,” she said. “They might talk about you. In fact, I’m certain they do.”
The smile fell from his face and his pace slowed. “I can only imagine what they would say.”
An Introduction to Pleasure: Mistress Matchmaker, Book 1 Page 16