His Temporary Mistress

by Bethany Sefchick

  Dory was leaving for Hallowby Grange and she wasn’t coming back. That was what Sarah, Lady Raynecourt had said this morning, anyway. And Jeremy was more inclined to believe Dory’s sister than he was some negligent gossip rag.

  Which left Jeremy very much alone and with a completely broken heart.

  Well, he didn’t have to be alone. There had been a steady stream of young, ninnyhammer debutantes and their pushy, title-grasping, marriage-minded mamas placed squarely in Jeremy’s path in the nearly seven days that had passed since it had been announced to the world that he was, in fact, the new Duke of Wyncliffe.

  Once more, the papers hadn’t told that entire story either and instead, probably thanks to Nick, a rather rosy picture had been painted of Wilson passing away peacefully well over a year ago and how “tangled legalities” had prevented Jeremy from publicly claiming the title.

  Now, conveniently, the proper mourning period was over, Jeremy had officially been given the title of duke, and he was, rather suddenly, one of the most eligible men in all of England.

  Hell, he’d been practically tripping over innocent, giggling, and rather mercenary young women for the last few days. He couldn’t even go to Dionysus without finding one of them attempting to finagle her way past Adams or any of the other doormen Jeremy was now paying double to ensure that only those who should be inside the club actually were.

  This morning alone, he had encountered five different young ladies – their chaperone mamas plastered to their sides – when they approached him in one spot or another as he went about his business. In fact, he had seen every manner of woman London had to offer.

  Except, of course, the only woman he wanted to see. Dory.

  But she was gone, forever beyond his grasp and he had to begin growing used accustomed to her absences. Nothing he could do or say would bring her back. He had ruined her.

  As he paused with his hand on the doorknob of the shop he was about to enter, briefly Jeremy wondered if she was possibly with child. Every time they had been together, he had been overcome with desire, as had she, and neither of them had thought about being careful. If she was with child – possibly a son – then what?

  Jeremy didn’t want to think about it just yet.

  Instead, he wanted to focus on the task at hand, which was finding some new toys for Maggie.

  When she and Mrs. Wellsbottom had moved back into Wyncliffe House, Jeremy had been distressed to learn that most of Maggie’s toys were missing. Some of her things were still there, including the stuffed duck he had just purchased for her, but many of her dolls, her tea set, and even the small box of tin soldiers she had asked for this past Christmastide were missing.

  Worst of all, a small cloth doll that she had brought with her from France – a gift from her mother, according to Alfred in his dying days – was missing, too. Though Maggie didn’t play with the doll much, when she was ill, she asked for it, likely remembering the comfort it had given her on the voyage across the Channel. Now it, along with most of her other toys, was gone and Jeremy had no idea where to look for them.

  When he had questioned the nanny, all Mrs. Wellsbottom had said was to ask his mother where Maggie’s toys had gone. Jeremy took that to mean that his mother had sold them, likely to finance her shopping habits. He had, of course, vowed to replace the toys but he hadn’t had the chance until now. The process of becoming a duke being a bit more challenging – and involving a lot more paperwork – than he had anticipated.

  And when he wasn’t occupied with the details of becoming Wyncliffe? Jeremy was thinking about Dory.

  Except that had to stop. Now.

  So with a sigh, he pushed open the door to The Child’s Emporium and stepped inside.

  The sun was shining brightly this morning and the store was wreathed in various jewel-toned hues from the stained-glass windows located near the ceiling. Extravagant for a toy shop, perhaps, but as Jeremy saw the children hopping about from colored square to colored square, their faces awash with delight, he understood why the windows were there.

  They made children happy. Thus, they were necessary. Especially for a toy shop.

  “Lord Dunn! How wonderful to see you!” Mr. Okey was, as always, standing behind the counter, wrapping up a new toy for some lucky child. “Or should I call you ‘your grace,’ or perhaps Lord Wyncliffe?” He handed the parcel he had been wrapping to the lady standing at the counter. “There you go, my lady. I hope your nephew enjoys the new top.”

  “I am certain he will, Mr. Okey.” She trailed off as she turned and immediately dropped into a deep curtsey. “Your grace. It is an honor.”

  When the woman rose, Jeremy was not surprised to see that it was Lady Gainsbridge. She had frequented Dionysus over the last few years in search of a new husband now that she was out of mourning for her previous one, an earl of some note but little fortune.

  At one point, Jeremy had imagined that he might like to bed her, for she was everything he had previously found pleasing in a woman – dark hair, dark eyes, curvaceous, and flirtatious. She, however, had shown little interest in him and even less interest when he had informed her there was no chance of him ever inheriting his brother’s title.

  Now? She was all but tripping over herself to snare his attention, including preening and posturing so much that Jeremy was afraid her breasts would simply pop out of her gown.

  “Thank you, Lady Gainsbridge.” Jeremy didn’t want to be rude but he didn’t want to encourage this title-seeking and fortune-grasping creature either. “As I am certain you have heard, I am only just out of mourning. Time to get back to the business of living.”

  Which, like the gossip rags’ stories, was an outright lie, something this woman knew all too well.

  “Speaking of living,” she all but chirped, brightening with every passing moment, “I am hosting a small dinner party this evening, and I’ve just had one of my male guests cancel on me. I need even numbers, of course, so I’d be honored if you would join us.”

  She batted her eyelashes for good measure and Jeremy felt as if he wanted to be sick. Still, he could not allow this creature to push him into accepting an invitation he did not want. So he pasted on what he hoped was a sad expression and looked away for a moment before looking back.

  “I am afraid not, my lady, though your offer is most gracious. I am otherwise engaged this evening.”

  “More important than me?” she pouted prettily.

  “Well, the invitation was issued by Lady Candlewood herself, and I should not wish to upset her husband.”

  At that, Lady Gainsbridge brightened even more than Jeremy had thought possible. “Well, yes! Of course! By all means, you must attend Lord Candlewood’s function! Are you, perchance, able to bring a guest?”

  Jeremy needed to find a polite way to be rid of this woman. “Not this evening, I’m afraid.”

  “Then another time? When the duke is alone, perhaps? I have heard rumors of those scandalous parties he hosts! The ones without wives and only select women!” Lady Gainsbridge was positively salivating now.

  Oh, Lord. Really? Was this chit one of the many women of London who firmly believed that they could tempt Nick away from his beloved Eliza? Probably. Nor would she be the first. While Lord and Lady Candlewood were an odd pairing, even Jeremy knew that the bond between the couple was true. It didn’t matter if the duke had met any of these women first. And quite possibly he had. For Nick Rosemont, there would always and only be Eliza. His beloved Izzy.

  Once more, Jeremy did his best to look sad. “I am afraid not, my lady. Perhaps another time? Besides, don’t you have a dinner party to host?”

  “Oh, yes! I should like that!” she trilled, not hearing a word Jeremy said as she swept out the door, her lie about the dinner party already forgotten. “Ta ta for now, your grace! I am certain I will be seeing you again soon!”

  For a long moment, Jeremy did nothing but watch the bothersome woman leave before letting out a long, slow breath. “Damnation,” he swore
. Then he glanced up at Mr. Okey. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”

  In response, Mr. Okey just laughed. “Think nothing of it! That woman is in here day after day on the hunt for a new husband.” He shook his head. “I don’t mind her wanting another gentleman to call her own, of course, but I’d prefer it if she didn’t do her hunting in my store!”

  That made Jeremy chuckle, which turned into a laugh, which devolved from there until tears were streaming down Jeremy’s cheeks because he was laughing so hard. Around him, time seemed to slow and it was as if The Child’s Emporium existed in a different place and time. A place that was calm and peaceful. A place where he could let his guard down for a minute.

  Soon, the tears of laughter turned to tears of pain, yet Mr. Okey didn’t seem to care. And when Jeremy realized how ridiculous he must look, weeping like a child in the middle of a toy shop, his sad tears turned to tears of laughter once again.

  When he finally wiped them away, he nodded in the proprietor’s general direction. “Whether intentional or not, thank you. I needed that.”

  The other man offered an enigmatic smile. “Sometimes, your grace, we all need to laugh. And cry. And I’ve a feeling you haven’t done much of either as of late.”

  “First, my name is Jeremy, Mr. Okey, and I’d be pleased if you call me by my Christian name. I have a feeling I will be doing a great deal of business here from now on. But if you must call me something other than that? Lord Dunn will suffice. That is how you knew me before…before…”

  “Before the madness?” Mr. Okey supplied as he adjusted a small display of miniature spinning tops on his counter.

  “You know?” Though really, Jeremy was not surprised.

  “All of London does,” the other man replied with a sigh as he shelved one of the new stuffed ducks, placing it on a high shelf behind him. “Though I have my sources that do not come from the papers.”

  Somehow, Jeremy found that very easy to believe.

  “Well, you should also know that, despite reports, I’m not really in the market for a wife,” Jeremy grumbled.

  Well, not unless Dory changes her mind, he thought to himself.

  “Or at least not that sort of wife?” the shop owner asked with a smile. “I wouldn’t want that sort either. Not that I particularly want a wife, mind you. Or anyone else for that matter. I am fine as I am.”

  “No, not that sort of wife.” Jeremy agreed. “But with the right woman…” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

  “Ah, yes,” Mr. Okey agreed quickly. “With the right person, anything is possible, is it not?”

  “It is,” Jeremy nodded and once more, his heart gave a little twist. “But as to why I am here…”

  Mr. Okey held up his hands. “Yes, yes, of course! I know exactly what you have come for! Just one moment!” Then he turned and hurried into the back of the shop, leaving Jeremy standing there in confusion.

  How could this man know what Jeremy was there to buy? Jeremy didn’t even know himself what he would purchase to replace Maggie’s missing toys.

  While the other man was gone, Jeremy took the opportunity to look around the shop, trying to decide what else he might wish to purchase for Maggie.

  More plush ducks lined the topmost shelves in a ring around the shop. Other nooks held wooden carts on wheels designed to be pushed across a floor, some of them big enough to hold the tiny dolls on display next to them. There were sets of jacks and spillikins scattered about, as if children had been playing with them only moments before. Perhaps they had been.

  After all, Jeremy had been known to indulge in a game of spillikins a time or two himself. Especially when he had been younger. Though not quite as young as Maggie.

  Everything here looked inviting, though that was possibly because of the buttercup yellow walls. Maggie’s nursey was done in a similar color and Mrs. Wellsbottom had often said the color was a good choice because it evoked a sense of warmth and comfort in children.

  A week ago, Jeremy had enjoyed hazy fantasies about filling that nursey with more children. His and Dory’s.

  Once more, he wondered if she was with child. He also wondered what he would do if she were.

  Perhaps the better question was, what would her brother do? Frost wasn’t exactly known for his calm and rational behavior.

  “Here we are then!”

  Pulling Jeremy from his reverie, Mr. Okey and two of his assistants emerged from behind a curtain that separated the front part of the shop from the back. And each of them was carrying a box full of toys. And there, at the top of the box Mr. Okey himself carried, was Maggie’s missing cloth doll. The one that had been a gift from her mother.

  “All safe and sound,” the shop owner pronounced as the boxes were placed on the counter one by one before the assistants scurried off to return to their work.

  Amazed, Jeremy picked up the doll. Beneath it was the set of tin soldiers. At the top of another box, carefully wrapped in a small wicker basket, was Maggie’s old tea set. Jeremy knew it was hers because one of the tiny cups printed with violets had a chip missing directly opposite the handle.

  “I don’t understand.” He looked up at Mr. Okey in awe. “How have you come to have Maggie’s toys?”

  “Why I traded for them, of course.” The other man seemed as if that should be the most obvious answer in the world. “Just as any man who wishes to call himself a gentleman would.”

  “Traded?” Jeremy parroted back. “I’m sorry but I don’t understand. Not any of it.”

  Mr. Okey shrugged. “The London toy business is a small one, Lord Dunn. Several weeks ago, one of my associates stopped by with a box of toys he had just purchased from a lady of Quality. He bought all that she had on offer and gave her an extremely fair price. Later, when he was going through them, he saw my mark on the bottom of a wooden toy wagon.” He reached into one of the boxes. “Here. This one.”

  Jeremy took the toy, fingering it gently, the air seeming to slow around him once more. He’d only seen Maggie play with this toy once – the day he’d gifted it to her. Shortly afterward, the wooden horse and pony cart toy had disappeared. He’s been so busy running Dionysus that he hadn’t given it much thought. But here, in his hands, was Maggie’s missing toy. Along with all of her others, it seemed.

  Until now, he hadn’t realized just how much it had bothered him that his gifts to her had gone missing. But it had bothered him – quite a bit. Because he cared about Maggie. She was more than a responsibility to him. She was more like his daughter.

  Jeremy was changing. He wasn’t the Devil of Sin any longer. He wasn’t certain he ever had been, really. Was it time to sell Dionysus and move on? Could he be a duke and do both? If he did that? If he proved he was a better man, would Dory come back to him? Would she give him a second chance? Did he even deserve one for failing her as he had?

  He didn’t know. What he did know was that he would approach the situation as he always had in the past. Baby steps. And the first step to perhaps possibly claiming the life he desired? Was to reclaim Maggie’s toys.

  “I bought her this for Michaelmas last year. One of the first toys I picked out myself.” Jeremy replaced the toy in the box.

  “Which is why my competitor was eager to purchase it. That was a limited design.” Mr. Okey’s eyes twinkled just a bit, as if he knew more than he was telling Jeremy. “Then, when he looked at everything the woman had brought in, he realized that almost all of the toys were from my shop, which struck him as odd. So he brought them back, thinking I’d been robbed. But, of course, I hadn’t been.”

  Jeremy nodded. “But you recognized them as toys I had purchased for Maggie.”

  “When I saw them together? Exactly so.” Mr. Okey carefully repacked the horse and pony cart. “I had no idea what was happening, you understand, but my instincts told me this business, whatever it was, was something unpleasant. So I instructed my friend to buy anything more the woman brought in and then bring the toys to me so that I could buy them b
ack from him. Or trade for them. At his discretion, of course.” He shrugged. “After the third trip? I knew for certain these were Lady Maggie’s toys.”

  Fresh anger at his mother bubbled up inside of Jeremy but he tamped it down. No. He would not let loose his anger. Not here and not now. Not when this man had done him such a great favor.

  “Thank you,” Jeremy finally said, reaching for his money pouch. “More than I can possibly say. This is all too much, really, but I’m certain she’ll be pleased to have them back. How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing.” Mr. Okey’s face now bore an enigmatic smile once again.

  “Nothing?” Jeremy found that difficult to believe. “You paid your competitor good coin for these. Or you traded away your own inventory to get them back. You are now out those funds. That is surely worth something.”

  Once more, the toy shop owner shook his head. “I have already been compensated for them, Lord Dunn. More than compensated, actually. And even if I hadn’t? I would have returned them to you anyway. For you see, they are not mine to keep. They are Lady Maggie’s. I would never keep something that belongs to another. That is not my way.”

  Jeremy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I still don’t understand. Who would pay you for my ward’s toys?”

  “A friend.” The man smiled again and Jeremy had the nagging suspicion he wouldn’t get anything more out of him. “Because you do have friends, Jeremy. You had them even when you didn’t realize it. And now? You have more.” He gestured toward the door with his chin. “Not the sort of friend that Lady Gainesboro wishes to be, but rather true friends. Friends who knew the truth of you long before Society did.”

  As it had happened so often since he had become the duke, Jeremy’s head was beginning to throb. “And I will never know exactly how entangled you are in all of this, will I?” he asked.

  “No, probably not, though one never knows.” Mr. Okey patted the crates. “But those are not my secrets to reveal. At least not today. Simply accept the toys as a gift to Lady Maggie from her new friends and be happy.”