Read Rules for Being a Mistress Online

Authors: Tamara Lejeune

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical

Rules for Being a Mistress (15 page)

“I
am
a nice girl,” she said, as if he had argued the reverse.

“You are the nicest girl I ever met,” he agreed, kissing her.

This time when his hand sought her breast, she did not immediately push him away. She could hardly deny that she wanted this caress in particular when her entire body arched against him. She moaned softly in the back of her throat and went on kissing him, her eyes closed. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered. “It’s not nice.”

This rejection stung him. He moved away from her so quickly that she felt like the one being rejected. She was burning alive. What on earth had made him stop?

Puzzled, she sat up, propping herself up on her elbows.

“I see,” he said coolly. “You can touch
me,
but I can’t touch you. Madam, I appeal to your sense of fairness, if indeed you possess such a thing!”

She sighed. It was just as she feared. He hated her. “Life isn’t always fair, Ben,” she said sadly.

“Clearly!” He got up and poured himself a drink. Brandy. The man was a brandy fiend.

“Please don’t be angry with me,” she pleaded softly.

“I am not angry.”

“You sound angry, Ben.”

“Well, I’m not!” he snapped. He finished his drink and slammed down the glass.

“Do you want me to leave?” she whispered.

“No,” he said, but he had to think about it first.

She lifted her eyes to his face. “Do you want me to read to you?”

“No.” He sat down in his chair and sulked.

She bit her lip. “I like you, Ben. But I’m not going to go bed with you. If that’s what you’re after with me, then you’re wasting your time. I mean, I
know
you want to go to bed with me. And I suppose I want you to want to go to bed with me. And I can certainly see how you might think that I
might
go to bed with you because I haven’t exactly been standoffish, but I’m here to tell you, I’m
not
going to go to bed with you, and that’s that!”

His mouth twitched. “So you’re saying you won’t go to bed with me?”

“I’d
like
to go to bed with you,” she confessed. “I mean, I
think
I might like to go to bed with you, but I guess I’ll never know, because I’m
not
going to go to bed with you.”

“Fair enough,” he said gently.

She winced as if he had shouted. “You want me to go now, don’t you?”

“No.”

“You hate me,” she accused.

“Not at all.”

“I suppose,” she said bitterly, “you’ve had a lot of women.”

He frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“I know what men are like,” she answered, shrugging. “Rapacious bastards, all.”

“You do not know
me,
” he said flatly. “I have enjoyed carnal relations with only one woman in the entire course of my life.”

“Well, if you don’t like it, why do you keep doing it?”

He chuckled. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve only had one woman in my life.”

“You’re lying!” she said. She laughed, it was so unbelievable.

“Why would I tell such a lie?” he asked.

She thought about it. In her experience, men usually lied in the direction of
more,
rather than
fewer.
At least, her brothers always did. “I don’t know,” she was forced to admit.

“It’s perfectly true. It might have been otherwise if I had not lost my arm when I was so young, but, as it is, I have had only one lover. She was governess to my sister.”

“Miss O’Hara!” she gasped.

He looked shocked. “No, this was another governess. I hold Miss O’Hara sacred forever. No, this one was English.”

“It figures,” Miss Cherry said primly.

“My father and his second wife died when I was but eighteen, leaving their two children on my hands. Miss Smith entered the house some two years before they died.”

“And that’s when you entered her?” she said politely.

“I did not pursue her, Miss Cherry. She wasn’t a pretty woman. She wasn’t even young. She must have been forty then, about the age I am now. As far as I was concerned, she was a fixture. I never paid the slightest attention to her before my father died. But afterward, well, I was the master. She began to pay a great deal of attention to
me.

“Slut!” said Miss Cherry.

He looked faintly surprised by this venomous comment, but went on. “I thought at first that she was afraid the new master would dismiss her from her post. I told her I had no intention of doing so. Her attentions increased; I mistook them for gratitude. Then, one night, she came to my bed.”

“You should have turfed her out!”

“Alas, I was not then as wise as I am now,” he said with a faint smile.

“Was she a virgin?”

He nearly choked. “Good Lord, no!”

“I thought not,” Miss Cherry said contemptuously. “Personally, I’d be ashamed to offer myself to a gentleman if I were not a pure virgin.”

“She was not as scrupulous as you are, Miss Cherry,” he said. “She was surprisingly experienced, as I recall. Quite an abandoned woman. She frightened me.”

“You
liked
it,” she accused him.

“I did,” he admitted. “I behaved quite shamefully. I wish I could go back and change it, but I can’t. The disgraceful affair went on for two years. She always visited me; I never visited her. Of course, unbeknownst to me, everyone in the house knew of it, with the exception, I hope, of my brother and sister.”

“Did you love her, Ben?”

“No, indeed.”

“Not at
all
?”

“Less than that. She began to behave as if she were the mistress of my house. She began to sleep in my stepmother’s room, and wear her clothes and jewelry. She began to—playfully, of course—ask me when I was going to make an honest woman of her.”

“Whatever did you tell her?”

“The truth. That I never intended to marry at all. When I lost my arm, I decided that my brother would be my heir.”

“But I thought you came to Bath to find a wife,” she said, puzzled.

“I did. My circumstances have changed. My brother can no longer be my heir.”

“Oh, no!” she cried softly. “Did he die, your brother?”

“No, no. He married a very wealthy girl. His father-in-law bought him an earldom. Now, if I die without a son to carry on, the baronetcy will be completely consumed by the new title. I have no choice but to marry.”

“I see,” she said, even though she did not see at all. “And
that
was the only woman you’ve ever had?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t believe you.”

He chuckled ruefully. “If you had seen the embarrassing way in which the affair ended, you
would
believe. No sane person would ever put himself in such a position again.”

“She made a scene, did she?”

“Rather,” he said dryly. “She threatened to accuse me of assaulting her, if you please, unless I married her. Naturally, I refused. She made good on her threat. She went straight to the vicar with her sordid tale. She even tore her own clothes and put scratches all over herself. Fortunately, for me, she had made enemies of all my servants. One and all, they refuted her fantastic lies. I was exonerated. But I never forgot, and I never forgave.”

“And you’ve been a saint ever since?”

He sighed. “I may have visited a brothel or two,” he admitted. “But I never—I never had carnal knowledge of any of the inmates.”

She laughed in sheer disbelief. “You did, of course!”

“No,” he insisted. “I was afraid I might contract a disease.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “If you weren’t doing the deed, what
were
you doing?”

“I would allow them to palate me,” he said, “but that’s all.”

“I have no idea what that means. Sounds awful.”

“Not at all. I used their mouths,” he said.

She stared at him in amazement. He wasn’t even blushing. “That’s disgusting!”

“I suppose that depends on your point of view,” he said coldly. “Some of these young ladies are very skilled.”


I
would never do anything like that,” she declared. “It’s indecent.”

“That,” he said, “is the whole point.”

“Those poor girls! I hope you paid them well.”

“I did. But enough about me,” he went on airily. “What about you?”

“Me!”

“I’ve told
you
everything,” he insisted. “It’s only fair that you tell
me
everything.”

“For your information, I am a pure virgin,” she said hotly.

“I never said you weren’t. I know I am not the first to kiss you.”

“Oh, that,” she said, blushing. “That’s only kissing.”

“You must have had offers,” he said. “A beautiful girl like you.”

“Well, I’ve been pawed at, if that’s what you mean.” She looked uncomfortable, but forged ahead. “There was a man who got his hand inside my dress once, but I got free of him.”

“Are you referring to me?” he asked sharply.

“Oh, no,” she hastened to assure him. “He wasn’t a nice man like you.”

A nerve twitched in his jaw. “Did he hurt you?”

She shrugged. “I told my brothers. I’m not exactly sure
what
they did to him in Phoenix Park, but he was a changed man after that. You never heard of him bothering the lasses again.”

“Good.”

“And then, when I was about sixteen, there was a boy at a dance who got a bit carried away. He was a nice boy, though. I could tell he was really trying to control himself. He danced me outside and shed tears on my best dress—except it wasn’t
tears,
if you know what I mean. I told my brothers, and no one ever saw him alive again. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“You mean they—? They
killed him
?”

“I suppose they did. Two weeks later, they found him, when they were dragging the bog for Connery’s mule. He was only seventeen. The boy, not the mule. It was really awful. If I’d known they were going to kill him, I never would have breathed a word. After that, I was the most respected girl in Ireland.”

“So I would imagine!” said Benedict. “I wonder what your brothers would do to
me
if they were here.”

“I wouldn’t let them hurt you,” she said fiercely. “They’d have to throw me in the bog with you. That’s the truth of it. Anyway, my brothers are gone. I’ve no one at all to defend me.”

“You have me,” he said firmly.

She laughed. “But ’tis yourself I need protection from the most!”

“No,” he said, frowning. “I will never harm you. You have my word.”

The grim story of the boy in the bog had cast a pall over the evening.

“It’s late,” she said, closing the book. “I’d better go.”

“You only read three pages,” he protested.

“Oh, bollocks!” she said. “That’s only sixpence.”

She looked at him, shame-faced. “Could I ask you to give me a bit more?”

“We agreed on tuppence a page, Miss Cherry. If you want more money, you will just have to stay and read.”

She shook her head. “I can’t stay. Please, Ben! I hate to ask you, but I really need it. You’ve no idea!”

His manner changed instantly as he saw how distressed she was. “Are you so badly in debt?” he asked, thinking about the thousand pounds he had given her just days before. “Of course! How much do you need?”

“I don’t know. Maybe three shillings? That’s what I earned last night.”

“Three shillings?” He almost laughed. “Are you seriously this worried about
three shillings
?”

“You don’t understand,” she said. “If I show up with nothing but sixpence in my fist, Nora will think we’re up to something! She already
does
think we’re up to something. It’s no laughing matter,” she assured him.

“Who, exactly, is Nora? And why do we care what she thinks?”

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