Page 11 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“Lord Trevor has always been pleased with my efforts for his mistresses.”

Violet froze, the smile still on her lips.

“His last one, Miss Starke, was delighted as well. She wished for me to go with her when she left, but unfortunately could not afford to employ me.” Pinning up a final curl, Susan gave a nod of approval to Violet’s coiffure. “So I was happy to receive his lordship’s summons last night.”

Violet’s mouth had dried. The roaring in her ears kept her standing, staring at the image in the mirror. Mistress.

“Shall I draw a bath for you for after breakfast? Do you know if Lord Trevor will require you today?” The maid had bundled up the cloak and put her satchel in the wardrobe. “I will take this down and bring up fresh linens before you have done.” She looked pointedly at the door.

Still unable to form a word, Violet made herself turn from the mirror and walk stiffly down the stairs. Mistress. He had said she would be that, but in name only. Had it been true? She’d believed him last night, but now…. Taking hold of herself, she continued toward the murmur of voices at the bottom of the stairs. The room to the left seemed a parlor, empty save for a sofa, end tables, and the chair she remembered sitting in last night. Apparently, she’d fallen asleep. Then how had she awakened upstairs?

She turned toward the right hand room, and away from all thoughts of that question.

“Well, if Gates has taken another position, I cannot blame the man.” Seated at the small dining table, Lord Trevor, impeccably groomed and dressed in an elegant suit of dark blue wool, raised a cup to his lips. Coffee to judge by the savory aroma. He spoke to a footman who nodded at regular intervals. “However, I must have a butler nonetheless. Put your ear to the ground, Thomas, and come up with some sort of solution. There must be one butler in London currently without a position.”

When she entered, the quiet young man stood even straighter.

Lord Trevor marked the man’s movement, noted her, and rose. “Miss Carlton.” He stopped, his mouth still slightly open, but wordless.

What was wrong? A thousand possibilities bloomed in Violet’s imagination. Fearful her dress had suddenly popped open at the site of the repair, she glanced down. When she raised her head, Lord Trevor had managed to close his mouth, but that hungry look still smoldered in his eyes.

“Miss Carlton, excuse me.” He cleared his throat, sipped the coffee, and tried again. “Please be seated.” He pulled out the chair next to him. “Another plate, Thomas.”

With a lurching bow, the footman hurried out of the room.

“I trust you slept well? I apologize for the lack of creature comforts. However, you look as though the night’s adversities never happened.” His sapphire gaze hadn’t left her face since she entered the room. “You are a most beautiful woman.”

Heat rose in her cheeks. “Susan is a very skilled ladies’ maid, my lord. She believes me to be your current mistress and insisted on turning me out for your satisfaction.” The words were a challenge. Let him deny what he would.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Carlton. I wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed.” Lord Trevor sat back in his chair, shoulders sagging. “I’m in two minds about the situation, you see.” He folded his napkin and laid it neatly on the table before looking at her. “What we do not wish to happen is for anyone to discover I’m keeping you here. You’d be as ruined as if you were found at Madame Vestry’s, no matter the true circumstances. Last night I had no choice but to bring you here, since you had no companion or maid and could scarcely be left alone. It may be that in several days I can move you to more suitable lodgings. With Susan accompanying you it may serve.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Thomas entered with a plate filled with sausage, smoked herring, grilled kidneys, potatoes, and hot rolls. Enough food to feed her for a week.

She inhaled and the rich scent of the kidneys mingled with the yeasty smell of the rolls made her sway. A quick indulgence before she shook off the delicious distraction. “That is most kind of you. However, why did you tell her I am your mistress?” Violet forced herself to remain calm. Lord Trevor seemed to trust the maid to remain silent, so she must as well.

He shrugged and sipped his coffee again. “I told her only that I wished to employ her services again, immediately, for a guest at Lammas House. She assumed our relationship based on past occupants.”

“Then you don’t intend to make me your mistress, Lord Trevor?” Her voice came out harder than she had intended, but she was coiled like a spring inside.

“Would you like to be, Miss Carlton?”

Her throat closed as if she’d swallowed a peach pit. Worse, her entire face flamed.

He eyed her coolly. “I believe we covered that subject last night, however, if you have reconsidered, I’d be delighted to discuss the terms.”

“Terms?” Her squeak startled her. What terms would a woman be able to dictate to a man?

“Yes, the terms of your employment as my mistress. Do you think such arrangements are done on the fly?” His boisterous laugh made her shrink back in her seat. “I’ve heard of marriage settlements that were less advantageous to a bride-to-be. Mistresses, if they are canny and the protector generous, can negotiate everything from amounts, times and places, to how many trips to the opera or the numbers of pieces of jewelry she can expect to receive each year of the arrangement.”

That such dealings involved detailed contracts had never crossed Violet’s mind. She gawked at Lord Trevor as he sipped his coffee, watching her every move. Of course, she’d never had cause to wonder about anything like this at all, until now. Still, it sounded almost like a settlement. With a kind and handsome man like Lord Trevor, such an agreement might almost seem like a marriage.

Lord Trevor sat up, the lascivious twist to his mouth replaced by a sober line. “I beg your pardon, Miss Carlton. Such information is not within the purview of genteel ladies. And at any rate, as I informed you, I am no longer inclined to take a mistress, due to my impending nuptials.”

Of course. He’d told her last night he couldn’t make her as his mistress because he would shortly marry. Unaccountably disappointed, Violet raised a forkful of kidneys to her mouth. The brief temptation had been absurd. Lord Trevor had promised to find a respectable position for her. That was the next goal.

“If you do not mind,” Trevor said, “it may be best for the servants to think you are my mistress. They have been discreet in the past. I have no reason to believe they will be any less so now.”