“I believed that he had left me his house for my lifetime and a pension, as well as wages for the servants, but I found out later that he had left me nothing. It was my uncle who had bought the house and was paying for its upkeep, out of guilt for arranging the marriage which he knew would not bear fruit.
“When Uncle Stephen died, there was nothing left. I looked for you then, I sent a servant to Suffolk who learned that you were in France. I could not afford to send anyone to France.”
“I am so sorry,” he said regretfully. “If I had only known.”
“You would have helped, I know. But you did not know and you were nowhere to be found and I had no choice but to throw myself on the mercy of the King.”
“And he helped you?”
“He helped me to the altar with yet another stranger,” I replied bitterly. “This one I did not even look at. I thought that if he too wanted an heir I was not about to tell him I was barren. I needed the marriage more than he did, as I had nothing. I would have been homeless and starving. But when I did turn and look at him, after the ceremony, I found that I had married the monster who had ruined me! One of the two who had stolen my childhood, stolen my life, and left me useless for any man!”
I was looking at my hands as they wrung themselves together. Just thinking about it was making me tremor uncontrollably, but talking about it was more than I could bear.
Finally I felt his fingers on my chin, turning my face up to look at him. His expression was one of pity, but not a contemptuous sort of pity, not the sort of pity I had seen when he looked at Rosemary.
“My dear, what on earth is there to say?” He whispered.
“Nothing,” I replied, shaking my head. “There is more. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
He nodded then held me against him once more. There were tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat which made it difficult to talk.
“I was, of course, much too old for his tastes. He was having difficulty, he said, procuring little girls since so many do-gooders had started up homes for them,” I told him bitterly. “He wanted a wife to visit these orphan homes and help him to trick the owners. I was to play the part of a woman anxious to adopt a little girl. That is where Louisa came from.”
“You mean you...”
“Yes,” I interrupted. “Even when I reminded him who I was, he still thought I would help him. He knew how desperate I was, how I had nothing and nowhere without him, but I was never that desperate. We found Louisa, crawling with lice and filthy, but managed to delay him while Lucy bathed her.”
“And? What happened then?”
I sat up and looked at him, my gaze holding his. I needed to see what expression crossed his features when I told him.
“Then I killed him,” I said firmly. “I poisoned him. I tumbled him down the stairs into the wine cellar and that is where he has remained.”
To my total surprise, he smiled, and it was a happy smile, a smile of sheer pleasure.
“Good,” he said. “Now you must come to Summerville Hall with me, you and Lucy and Louisa.”
“I do not want to show my face anywhere near court ever again,” I declared.
“You will not have to. I shall not be going there, not with a protestant on the throne, and if people believe you are my mistress they will leave you alone.”
“I cannot let you do that.”
“I was not asking your permission,” he said flippantly. “Do not concern yourself. You will not be my only mistress, no one would expect it.”
He kissed my forehead affectionately.
“You can revert to your own name,” he was saying. “Nobody will look for you, nobody will know. Lady Rachel Stewart is about to become the favourite mistress of Lord Richard Summerville and anyone who tries to challenge that will have me to deal with.”
I watched his face for a little while, then reached up and kissed his cheek. I was so overwhelmed with gratitude, I could barely find words to thank him.
“Why would you do so much for me?” I asked at last.
“Because I love you, Rachel,” he replied, while I stiffened slightly. He shook his head slowly. “Will you ever trust me? I made you a promise, remember? I promised you that I would never ask anything of you that you did not want to freely give. After the things you have told me today, that promise means even more to me than it did when I made it.”
***
So we locked up the house and journeyed to Suffolk, leaving the rotted corpse of the Monster in the wine cellar. I wondered how long it would be before anyone found him, before anyone came looking, curious about the overgrown country manor lying neglected among the weeds.
The two girls, Lucy and Louisa, were very excited. They chattered away in the carriage on the way there and I noticed Richard looking at them indulgently.
“What will you find for these two when we get there?” I asked him, causing the girls to stop their chatter and look to him for an answer.
“That is up to you, my love,” he replied with a smile. “They are your servants.”
I shook my head.
“No. They are my friends. I do not know what I would have done without them.”
“Well, then, they deserve the best, as do you. Summerville Hall is vast, there is plenty of room for you all.”
When we arrived a servant escorted the two girls to bedchambers next to one another while I remained in the great hall to meet Anthony, Richard’s young cousin. He was a good looking boy, about twelve years of age, and very polite.
“My Lady,” he said softly, bowing over my hand and kissing it. “Richard has told me so much about you. I am so pleased to finally meet you.”
We had refreshments then Richard escorted me to a bedchamber next to his own. I must have looked dismayed as he quickly reassured me.
“It is for appearances,” he said. “We want the servants to think I am your lover, do we not? Servants gossip; before you know it everyone in the village will know, and no one will bother you.”
I nodded then looked around at the rich furnishing and tapestries. This was more luxury than I had ever known before and I wondered why I had never realised just how wealthy Richard was.
“You will have your own house, Rachel,” he was saying. “And I will arrange a pension of some kind for you. That way, if anything happens to me, you will not be left destitute again. You will not have to beg for help, you will be your own person.”
“Oh, Richard! What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”
“Just be happy,” he replied with a smile. “That is all I ask.”
I stayed with him and Anthony for two years before my own house was built, right on the edge of the Summerville estate but about three miles from the main hall. It was a manor house of medium size, big enough for me and my servants with a small park and stables.
During the time I stayed with him he treated me as I imagine a he would treat a sister, always respectful, never forward. We ate together, talked together and often went out in the carriage. Occasionally, there would be a local ball to which he would take me, but I preferred to remain at home. I thought about the contrast that when men looked at me wherever I went, I felt sick with dread, but Richard so obviously enjoyed the same attention from women.
There were many women in his life, but he never brought them home. Instead he would spend nights away, which I would not dream of questioning.
When we moved to the new house, Lucy was my maid, Louisa had developed a talent for cooking and we had our own men servants to tend the hard work, the grounds and to drive the carriage.
This was ideal for me. Nobody would bother me while they thought I was Richard's mistress, while I was under his protection.
He had said he would not be going to court and he kept his word. He had no position there and he was not in favour with the King or the Lord Protector. They had no proof that he was catholic, but I do believe they suspected it.
There was a catholic chapel in the woods, overgrown and hidden by the tree
s, and I knew that he heard mass there, gaining access through the tunnels under the house. He never asked me to accompany him and I never did. I attended the church in the village, as that was the law, but neither the protestant service there, nor the Catholic one in the hidden chapel meant anything to me. I was not even certain that there was a God and if there was, He certainly had no love for me.
The years slipped by, quietly and happily. Lucy married one of the male servants and set up home in a small cottage in the village, rented from the Summerville estate. The man obviously adored her and for that I was glad; she had supported me through everything and I was so glad to see her happy.
Although I had my own house, I still spent time at Summerville Hall. I enjoyed Richard’s company and I enjoyed Anthony’s. He was growing up into a fine young man and was always kindness itself to me and he worshipped Richard.
One afternoon I had called to see if either of them wanted to come riding with me the following day, when I caught sight of Richard, leaving his bedchamber with a rather lovely blonde woman. I had seen her before; she was his neighbour from the small manor house over the hill, Winterton House. So he was choosing his mistresses from closer to home now? I said nothing to him nor to Anthony, but I left, not wanting to embarrass the woman by letting her know I had seen. I knew she had a husband and exposure might be dangerous for her.
When I got home, I could see that Louisa had just returned from somewhere. Although she had said nothing to me, she had taken it upon herself to ride out to the Monster’s house and see if anyone was living there, if anyone had yet found his body.
“It has burned down, My Lady,” she told me when she came back. “I asked about the village and it seems it was burned down just after we left. There is nothing there now, nothing at all. They said the fire started in the wine cellar.”
I turned to see Richard standing in the doorway. He had just arrived, but he had overhead and the expression he wore told me he knew a little more about the fire that had destroyed my former home.
I gave him an enquiring look, but he merely shrugged.
“Well, that was fortunate,” he said with a grin. “Perhaps we forgot to put the fire out properly before we left.”
“My Lord,” Louisa said in acknowledgement, then curtsied and left us alone.
“It was you, was it not?”
“Not personally, no,” he replied. “It seemed the best way. Perhaps the evil that he would have left about the place has burned with him.”
I reached up and kissed his cheek.
“I am glad to see you. It has been more than a week.”
“Forgive me,” he replied. “I have been very busy.”
“With your lovely neighbour,” I replied with a smile. “I saw you.”
“Julia? Sorry, that was inconsiderate of me.”
“Not at all. It is none of my concern whom you choose to bed, but a little close to home I would have thought.”
He laughed then and came to sit beside me, taking my hands.
“It has been almost five years since Rosemary died,” he said softly. “I am searching for a new Countess. I thought you should know.”
“Thank you. I hope you choose wisely this time. Do you have anyone in mind?”
“I do, but you will think me crass. Lady Winterton has a sister who visited her in the summer. I noticed her at once; she looks a lot like you.”
I gave a cynical laugh.
“Then you had best rescue her before some lecherous deviant takes notice of her.” I could have bitten out my tongue for that. “Forgive me. That was unnecessary. Does she really look like me? Lady Winterton is very fair.”
“She does, though I have to say not quite as beautiful. I do not believe anybody could be as beautiful as you.”
I could at last hear those words in that tone without stiffening, without feeling threatened. It had taken me all this time to accept that there was no hidden meaning behind his words.
“But I saw you this afternoon, leaving your bedchamber with her sister,” I said.
“Yes,” he replied, looking slightly abashed. “I said you would think me crass.”
“Why? If you have designs on the lady’s sister, why on earth would you take her to your bed?”
He gave me an abashed look, then smiled mischievously.
“I have never had much patience with people who say ‘it just happened’ but, well, it just happened.”
“If you say so, My Lord,” I replied sceptically.
“I need your advice. I do not want to tie myself to someone who will be unhappy with the arrangement,” he began. “I thought if I put it to the lady herself, an agreement perhaps with conditions, what do you think?”
“I think that would very much depend on what sort of woman she is,” I replied. “I would have killed for a civilised agreement, but most women might need a little, shall we say wooing?”
“I do not believe that is the sort of thing I am looking for,” he replied doubtfully. “The last thing I want is someone running away with the idea that I am in love with her.”
“Why not?”
“Because I do not believe that is possible. I have had many women in my life and I have never been in love with any of them, not even you my love. I do not want anyone to get hurt.”
“Then you had best meet her, see what she is like up close if you know what I mean.”
“I intend to,” he answered with a little note of enthusiasm. “Sir Geoffrey holds a twelfth night ball every year. I shall make it my business to attend.”
“What makes you think you will be invited?”
“I am always invited,” he replied as though it were obvious. “He has to invite me, since I own half the county, but he does not expect me to attend and I never do. This year will be different.” He paused and gazed at me thoughtfully for a moment. “Would you care to accompany me?”
“No!” I cried with a laugh, shaking my head. “Not if you are planning on getting to know Lady Winterton’s sister.”
“Do you mind?”
“Mind what, My Lord?”
“Mind my talking to you about this, mind my thinking of getting married.”
“Of course not. It is not my place to mind, is it? I knew that one day it would happen, it would have to happen. And I want you to be happy, which is why I have to remind you of something.” He turned to me with a puzzled frown and I went on, “the likelihood is that she will be protestant. I imagine you will want her to convert to your faith. It would be unfair to marry her without revealing that, yet what you are doing is illegal. You need to be very careful that you can trust her with the information.”
He nodded thoughtfully, as though it was not something he had considered.
“I shall put it to her,” he said thoughtfully. “If she agrees to convert then I shall assume that her faith is not deep. If she does not, then I shall think I had a lucky escape.”
I knew he was joking, knowing full well that he kept his own beliefs a secret for fear of losing Summerville Hall, but I could not help be concerned for his safety. He would have to reveal his crime to a stranger with no knowledge of her own ideals and how far she would take them.
“I shall miss you, Richard,” I said softly. “When you are married, I shall miss you terribly.”
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “One of the conditions I shall insist on is that I keep my mistresses, or at least one of them.”
I sighed deeply, feeling that I was indulging a little boy.
“And because you are so charming, I expect you will persuade her to agree,” I said with an affectionate smile. “That would please me, but I doubt it will please her.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I saw no further sign of Lady Winterton at Summerville Hall and Richard, Anthony and I spent that Christmas quietly at my house. He went off to Sir Geoffrey’s ball on twelfth night, leaving me to pray that it all turned out happily for him.
Even with all the hardships I had suffered in my life,
I do not believe I have ever before wished that I could be someone else, but that Christmas I wished I was this lady that he had chosen to court. I could so easily have been a young girl from a wealthy family, looking for a suitable match, had my father not drunk away all our fortune and sold his little girl in desperation. I hoped she would treat him well, make him happy, even if it were not to be a love match.
I recalled the well hidden sorrow he had suffered over his first wife, how hard he tried to make her happy. This girl, this merchant's daughter, would be very lucky to get him and I just hoped she would come to know that, for both their sakes. I did not believe that he would tolerate another failed marriage. Much as I cared for him, on rare occasions I had sensed that he could be dangerous given the right circumstances.
The first time I noticed was not long after he had taken me in and spread the rumour that he was my lover. A peddler in the village accosted me as I waited outside the inn, wanting me to buy from him. I had no money with me, so I told him I could not.
Suddenly, the man's demeanour changed and leered at me like all those men in my past, a look I had not seen in a long time and it sent a shiver down my spine.
"Do not think you can look down on me, My Lady," he said angrily. "You are nothing more than a common prostitute."
I was shocked at the language, and I did not know that Richard had overheard him. He emerged from the inn and gathered the man up by his shirt.
"My Lord," the man spluttered. "I meant it in jest."
Richard flung him into the horse trough as though he were weightless. I had not realised before just how strong he was, and his jaw was clenched as he tried to control his anger.
Yes, he could be dangerous when protecting that which he loved and he loved Summerville and all it stood for. God help any woman who did not share that love with him.
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