Read Ambersley (Lords of London) Online
Authors: Amy Atwell
“
Have you ever hired a strumpet?” Johnny asked.
Derek’s face warmed under the boy’s intent gaze. “No, I have never hired a strumpet. But I do keep a mistress in London.” To Johnny’s knitted brows, he explained. “A mistress is a tasteful woman who commits to a man to be available for bedding at his leisure for so long as he pays her keep.”
Johnny tried to assimilate this information. “What is your mistress like?”
“
A gentleman never discusses his amores. I will say that she is beautiful and sensible, and she suits me quite well.”
“
If she suits you so well, why not marry her?”
“
Marriage again.” Derek shook his head at the boy’s obstinacy. “Johnny,
no man loves his wife half so well as he loves his mistress. And much of that is because his mistress never swears she loves him, but his wife swears it constantly. A woman is never as attractive after she tells a man she loves him. That’s because you can never trust a woman to mean it.”
This left the boy mulling in silence.
Fearing he’d become too didactic, Derek added more lightly, “Besides, a man’s mistress is not of the same breeding he would choose for a wife. I cannot take my mistress out into polite society.”
“
If you cannot go out anywhere, what do you—Ohhh!” Johnny blushed again at the Duke’s wolfish grin.
“
Perhaps we should continue this conversation after you have acquired more experience with women.”
She fervently hoped they would never touch upon the subject again.
~
November arrived in a symphony of color. Johnny spent her mornings riding with Lady Olivia and her afternoons learning the art of fencing from the duke. Their foils tipped, they would feint and lunge on the lawn by the stream. Johnny proved more apt at fencing than at riding, and the duke commended her progress.
But before long, the duke left for Bath to join Harry and his mother for Christmas. With his departure, December’s cold weather descended in earnest, and Olivia discontinued her rides until spring. Johnny took this dismissal in stride and returned to the conservatory to tend the winter chores. There were dozens of things she could do around Ambersley to occupy herself. She need not sit idle and wish for the duke’s return.
She worried for Tom who took heart in so little since Martha’s death. He seemed to wither overnight. His movements slowed, his attention failed. The grizzled fur around his ears was all white now. By March, he developed a hacking cough and had to sleep with pillows propping his head. Johnny abandoned all her gardening tasks to care for him. At first he argued with her, determined this was nothing. When he no longer had the strength to leave his bed, Johnny asked Cushing to fetch the barber.
Burning with fever, Tom mumbled to his wife in a delirium while Johnny fought desperately to hold onto him. She tried every remedy Martha had ever taught her. Mostly she was there at Tom’s side, willing him to live.
Cushing shook his head over the boy. “Tom’s lived a full life. Let him go now. ’Tis time.” The giant perched on the chair at Tom’s bedside. “I’ll keep watch a bit. Go get some air.”
Johnny drew water from the well, impervious to the chilly fog settling with dusk. The scent of freshly turned earth reminded her that spring was a time of renewal, yet she knew it wouldn’t be so for Tom. She needed to ease his final hours.
Returning inside, she found Cushing bent over the bed while Tom’s voice rasped in the quiet cottage. She hurried to the bedside to find his sunken eyes were a trifle glazed but lucid.
“
I hate to leave you, child.” Tom’s whisper rattled.
Tears blurred her vision, but she was determined to give comfort. “I’ll get by, Tom. I wasn’t ready before, but I am now.”
Tom’s hand moved on the quilt, and Johnny grasped the dry frail fingers. “I’ve told Cushing about your family.”
Fear gripped Johnny as she noted that Cushing’s normally ruddy face had drained most of its color. Clearly, Tom had revealed everything.
“
It’s time for you to know the truth—” Another cough racked Tom.
“
I know. Tom, I know I’m Amber Vaughan.” She smiled through her tears to see a sharp gleam reappear in his eye. “I’ve known since the stable fire.”
Fidgeting, Tom started to speak, but she silenced him with two fingers on his parched lips.
“
You’ll ask why I said naught. What was there to say? You rescued me and raised me. You and Martha fed me, clothed me, taught me and loved me. You gave me everything I could have gotten from my real parents. You’re my family—I didn’t want to leave.”
Tom turned to Cushing. “Look after her,” he whispered.
“
Aye, Tom.”
Shifting on the pillow, Tom pierced her with his feverish gaze. “You must tell the duke.”
Johnny glanced sidelong at Cushing. “Someday,” she lied.
Tom’s eyes closed, but his brow relaxed into smooth creases.
She kissed his ashen cheek. “I love you both. Tell Martha that for me,” she whispered. Minutes later, she knew Tom had left her. She was on her own now, except...
He’d spilled her secret to the duke’s faithful manservant. Even now, Cushing moved through the cottage as if to leave. When she turned to face him, he eyed her with caution.
“’
Tis a miracle I can hardly conceive, lad. Er, Johnny. The Master will be…surprised.”
“
You mustn’t tell the duke,” she said without preamble. Her thoughts raced as she sought to connect them in a convincing argument.
“
What’s this? You cannot think to continue this way.”
She went to him. She would have gone on bended knee if she thought it would help her cause. “It’s the only life I know, Cushing. I’ve lost Tom and Martha. Do not take this from me, too.”
“
But you’re an heiress—”
“
What do I care for money? My world is here at Ambersley.”
Cushing folded his arms, his lips hardening in a bullish line. “I promised Tom I’d tell the duke.”
“
No, you promised to look after me. How will you do that after you put me in Lady Vaughan’s hands? For if you reveal me, that will be my lot.”
This made the giant scratch his temple. “Nay. I’ve always served the Master’s interests. I cannot lie to him.”
Quickly, Johnny argued further. “During the stable fire, someone locked me in the harness room. Do you think that and the duke’s injury were a coincidence? If someone meant him harm, Miss Amber could be in equal danger. Under Lady Vaughan’s thumb I can do nothing to help the duke, but as Johnny, I can continue to help watch out for him. You know it’s true.”
Her gaze held his. Sensing his hesitation, she pressed her point home. “Truly, have you never worried that his own family might be a danger to him?”
Finally, Cushing released a long sigh. “How long do you think you can go on like this?”
“
As long as I need.”
“
But you’ll tell the Master one day?”
“
I promise,” she said. “Now, you must promise to tell no one. Let me do it in my own good time.”
“
I don’t like it,” he said, heavily. “Aye, lad, but only because there’s trouble afoot."
~
When Derek returned from his extended trip in early April, Cushing told him Tom Bendicks had died and that Johnny now lived alone in the gardener’s cottage. Based on his valet’s obvious concern, Derek expected to find a scared child. Instead, Johnny was unusually reserved.
“
I’m sorry for your loss, Johnny. Tom was a good man.” Confused by the lad’s silence, Derek stepped into the cottage. “If there’s anything I can do…”
The boy’s face appeared leaner, his expression more guarded, as his gaze traveled past Derek to the valet. “If I take on all the gardening duties, will you pay me Tom’s wages?”
The question stung. Derek had thought he was more than an employer to the lad after all these years. “Don’t worry about that now, Johnny. I’ll take care of you.”
The boy shook his head emphatically. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I want to earn my keep.”
He smiled with understanding. “It’s a painful lesson, but you’re becoming a man.”
“
I wish I thought that were possible,” the lad replied with feeling.
From the doorway, Cushing coughed.
“
It will come in time,” Derek said. “I’ll ask Broadmoor to transfer Tom’s wages to you. Let me know what assistance you need in the gardens, for Olivia’s rides must not be neglected and there’s no other lad I trust with her. Have you been practicing your fencing?”
Remaining mute, Johnny shook his head.
“
Meet me tomorrow morning by the stream. Now that you are your own man, you’ll need to defend yourself properly.” He motioned to Cushing to follow as he left. The giant hesitated before matching strides with him.
“
Is it wise to be teaching the lad swordplay, Master?” Cushing asked gruffly. “He’s so small and delicate.”
“
Aye, he’ll never be big-boned, but he must be, what, fifteen now?” Derek paused to look back at the cottage.
Johnny stood in the doorway, hands on his hips. His eyes narrowed with a haunting intensity as he watched their departure.
Derek turned once more for home. “The lad needs to learn to make his way in the world. His swordsmanship is sound, and it’s a gentlemanly pursuit that may one day help him.”
Cushing cleared his throat. “Very good, Master. I hope no trouble comes from it."
~
The next morning, Johnny arrived at the stream worrying that Cushing had spilled her secret. Instead, she found the duke awaiting her, two foils in hand.
“
Come. Let’s see what you’ve retained,” was his only greeting.
Johnny accepted the proffered weapon and weighed it in her right hand. Doubt filled her. With Tom and Martha gone, she knew she should confess her identity and beg for the duke’s mercy.
He interrupted her reflection, and motioned her into position. He saluted her with his foil and then attacked. Unprepared, Johnny retreated from his advance, flailing her foil in the most elementary defense.
The duke stepped back. “You fight like a maid, Johnny. Come, let’s mark it together.” He patiently called out the moves, and she copied his actions. Satisfied with her performance, he stood opposite her once more and motioned for her to take the offensive.
She advanced in small steps, but he parried her attacks with ease. She countered him while her brain reeled. She shouldn’t continue this charade, and yet if she told him the truth now, he’d see her only as a troublesome girl, and she’d be sent off to live with Lady Vaughan. Preoccupied with such thoughts, she barely noticed as the duke deftly turned the attack back on her. Suddenly, she found herself parrying his thrusts, trying to keep the foil from touching her body. In moments, the balled tip of his foil bounced off her arm and then hit home against her chest. She fell backwards with the force, tears of inadequacy filling her eyes.
“
I’m sorry, my lord, I’m not concentrating very well today.”
The duke looked down on her. “Don’t apologize to
me
. If this were a real fight, you’d be the one dead now.”
She stared up at him, surprised by his harsh tone.
“
When someone attacks you, you have no time for any thought other than how to avoid being killed. If you
can
think of anything else, then you’d better be planning how to defeat your enemy. There’s no room for emotions or excuses of any kind. In a real fight, it’s kill or be killed. Understand?”
His words reinforced her very reasons for continuing her masquerade. She would risk anything to protect him.
“
Yes, my lord.”
“
Good.” The duke offered his hand. “Let’s start again.”
She rose without assistance and dusted off her breeches and waistcoat. With renewed determination to prove worthy, Johnny saluted the duke then met his attack. She predicted his moves and parried with a lightning quick wrist. Sweat dampened her shirt, but despite her aching arm, she refused to forfeit.