Page 33 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“But you forget, my dear, I’ve seen you eat.”

“Wretch. How ignoble of you.” Running her hand through the silky hairs on his chest, she closed them in her fingers, made patterns in the thick mat, delighting in the feel of him. “My other appetites are stronger now.” A growl from her stomach set her to laughing. “I don’t suppose we could have breakfast in bed?”

He laughed and slid her over to the side. “Kill two birds with one stone?”

“I am nothing if not efficient.” She trailed her hand along his sleek body, reveling again at the beauty of it. “And I have no plans for the day other than to serve your pleasure, my lord.”

Tris tensed, ran his hand over his face, lines emerging where an instant before there had been none. “Christ.” He pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck.

“What’s wrong?” A glimmer of foreboding rose in her.

He sighed and lay back, his hand flopping over to cover his eyes. “I am supposed to travel into Wiltshire to Lord Downing’s estate near Devizes. I am to spend the New Year with them.”

Cold dread threaded its way through Violet’s veins. She slid off him and pulled the cover over her shoulder. In the joy of discovering their passion, she’d forgotten he wasn’t hers to keep. Her stomach churned, all idea of hunger fled. He’d have to leave her to be with the woman who had a claim on his name, if not his heart. In this world, unfortunately, the former held more importance. She stifled a sob, even though tears had begun to flow.

“Violet.” He put a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off.

“Violet, love, I must go. I have to see Lord Downing so I may tell him I wish to withdraw from the betrothal.”

She spun around, her heart beating wildly. “You can’t do that. You’d be ruined.”

“My love, I’ve just ruined you.”

Chills crawled down her spine and she shuddered. It was true. Her circumstances had altered irrevocably last night. Any hope of a respectable marriage had vanished with her maidenhead. She didn’t regret it one iota, however her future prospects, never good, now seemed bleaker than a mid-winter’s night. She clenched her teeth, biting back a sob.

He gathered her into his arms, stroking her hair, his cheek pressed to her head. “Shhh, love. I promise it will be all right. I’ll pay a call on my friend, the marquess. If anyone knows how to survive scandal, he does. I suppose we will not be completely beyond the pale of Society if the Marquess and Marchioness of Dalbury stand by us.”

“But it would not only be us, Tris.” She took his and, threading their fingers together, as if to bind him to her. “It would be our children and Miss Harper as well. Her reputation would be in shreds. Her father might even call you out.” Violet bolted up in bed, her heart freezing. “No, no, no you cannot do it. I will not risk you.” Tears spilled down her cheeks and she sniffed and wiped her eyes. Damn, but she seemed to cry at everything this morning.

Tris looked defeated. Obviously, he hadn’t yet thought of it, but Violet could remedy the situation quickly and with very little fuss.

“I’ll become your mistress, Tris. Then there won’t be a scandal, nor possibility of a duel.”

A storm swept across his face, a squall followed by steady thunderclouds.

“We will have each other.”

He glared at her.

“It is done all the time in polite society.”

“I know.” His voice was stern, emotionless. “It will not, however, be done by me.” Lips pursed, he narrowed his eyes until they glittered like hard jet. “I told you about my father. My feelings about that have not changed. God knows I understand perfectly now how he felt, but that does not excuse how miserable he made my mother all those years. Or his children. Believe me, we were not a happy household. I will not put you, myself, nor Miss Harper through it.”

“Tris, you must see sense.” Lord, if he decided to be stubborn she feared she would lose the battle. “It will be less hurtful to all concerned if you marry Miss Harper.”

“You cannot know what you are saying, Violet.” The sharp lines of pain around his eyes stabbed her heart. “I will never be free to be with you publicly. I will not be able to spend time with you as I have, but will have to spend time with her and her family.” He came to a complete stop and his face reddened. “I will have to get heirs on her. Did you think of that?”

“Of course I did.” The image of Tris holding the golden-haired Miss Harper in his arms in a bed tightened a band of iron around her chest. “I’ve thought of nothing else but you and her together, dining, talking, laughing, making...” She didn’t want to think it, much less give voice to the idea, but it must become real to her. “Making love to her. Having children with her. Oh, yes, I have thought of all that and more. Still, I would bear the heartache of sharing you gladly if it kept you free from scandal and the threat of a duel.” Tears cascaded down her cheeks and she threw herself on his chest, clutching him to her. “My brother was killed in a duel. Did you forget that? His death sent me eventually down the path that led me to you. If you were to be killed, I….” She choked and buried her face in his shoulder. “I would never recover. I went to Madame Vestry’s before because I didn’t want to die. If something happened to you, I wouldn’t want to live.”

Wrapping his arms around her consoled her somewhat and her trembling lessened. His silence lengthened so she finally dried her eyes and twisted to look at him. He stared at the canopy overhead, his jaw firm, brows knit.

The inscrutable look caused her to shiver again, but she could be firm too. Although he wouldn’t want to give in and take her as his mistress, he would see the necessity of it in time. God knew she didn’t want to share him with anyone, but better to share him than lose him. “Don’t be sad, my love.” She kissed his mouth, trying to tease a smile from his stern countenance. “It is still Christmas. We must be merry a little.” When that didn’t seem to work, she raised his hand and kissed it. “We certainly made merry last night.” Still no response, so she continued kissing his knuckles, then turned his hand over and pressed her mouth fiercely to his palm.

That seemed to awaken him from his reverie. He caught her to him, pulling her hard to his chest, enfolding and holding her close. “No matter what, love, you must remember I love you. Above all others and to my dying breath.”

“Tris.” She started up out of bed, his hopeless tone sending a wave of fear through her. “You are scaring me. Please don’t talk like that.”