Page 9 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“She befriended me and so I was invited to all manner of events from her connection alone. I was sure I would find someone, but my lack of dowry evidently proved insurmountable.” Lips pressed into a stark line, Miss Carlton shook her head. “At that point, my lord, I should have given up and applied to a mantua-maker. It was late August. I still looked respectable. I could perhaps have gotten a position. But I convinced myself a man could fall in love with me and take me without a dowry.”

“I believe he could.” Tris’s words slipped out before he thought. She embodied all the womanly traits a man would wish in a wife. Beauty, charm, poise, passion. And a tenacity for life he would match against any man’s. Had he met her this summer, perhaps he would not have taken the path he had chosen.

“Unfortunately, none did.” She lowered her gaze to the carriage robe, worrying the fringe. “I came back from a week-long party at the Braeton’s in Kent to find my landlady had seized all my belongings as payment for my room. Her actions left me three outfits to sell for food. So I started eating only every other day, sleeping where I could. That is when I sought a position as a seamstress. But by then I looked less than respectable and they wouldn’t even speak to me. I ate less, sold everything I had but the dress I stood up in. Three days without food and I knocked on Madame Vestry’s door.” The raised chin and narrowed eyes issued an unmistakable challenge. “I decided to choose life rather than death. Society will surely condemn me for that, although I highly doubt any of them has ever missed a single meal.”

“I rather doubt that myself.” Tris wanted to put his arms around her, to comfort her, to let her know he did not judge her. He suspected she already knew. Still, he grasped her hands again, reveling in their touch. “You are past that now, my dear. I will not rest until you are safely taken care of either through employment or marriage.”

“Thank you, my lord. You are truly kind.” She squeezed his hand.

A sizzle of heat shot straight to his groin and he bit back a groan. “As I said earlier, by right, having ruined you, I should marry you.” He raised a hand as she opened her mouth to protest as before. “I regret, however, that I am encumbered. I am betrothed to another lady and cannot break my word to her.” A heartfelt sigh escaped him and he wondered at it. Would he prefer marriage to a penniless woman, no matter the temptress she might be? Or the daughter of a wealthy and powerful man whose dowry would be a piece of land his family had coveted for generations?

“You are generous even to think of such a thing, my lord.” Something—regret or relief—flitted over Miss Carlton’s face. “Are we stopping?”

The shadowy lapboard front of Lammas House came into view. His gaze, as always, went immediately to the upper room in the right corner of the house. Serena’s bedroom, filled with delights. But now no lights showed in the rooms, either below or above. Of course not, fool. No one was there. Serena had left last week. The house had been closed, the servants sent away.

“Damn.” He took in Miss Carlton’s startled gaze, and chuckled. “I seem to have misplaced my wits for the moment. The sight of great beauty will do that, you know.”

Her wan face and a pinched attempt at a smile told him the poor woman was nearing the end of her endurance. Life had been an unholy hell for her recently. Let him not add to it.

“My mistress left and the servants were dismissed. Hence, no lights. Fortunately, I still have my key. Stokes.” Tris opened the door and called to the coachman. “Tell Thomas to find Mrs. Parker and Susan, and send John to Mr. Gates. Tell them to return to their posts at once and I will be very generous. Come, Miss Carlton.” He offered his hand and it swallowed her petite one as he assisted her to the ground.

She picked her way to the gate, then turned and looked back at him hesitantly.

“Hand me her satchel, Stokes. I will send to Madame Vestry tomorrow for the rest of your things, Miss Carlton.” He hefted the bag, so light it might be empty. Why had the woman not packed more of her things?

“That won’t be necessary, my lord. Those are all my possessions.”

Tris stopped and stared. “Madame Vestry didn’t outfit you—”

“No, my lord. She wanted to wait until...until she knew if I would work out or not.” She bowed her head and whispered, “Apparently, one woman, after her first time, went and drowned herself in the Thames. Madame did not want to spend money on additional clothes for me if they would not be put to use.”

Gripping the valise, a sudden disgust with the whole business gnawing his insides, Tris took Miss Carlton’s arm and escorted her inside. Immediately, he lit a lamp beside the door and conducted the woman into the parlor on the right. He indicated a large wingback chair in gold and burgundy stripes, and proceeded to light the lamps in the room. Damn, he forgot to send for another footman to light a fire here and upstairs. Had Mrs. Parker left any bed linens or covers? Why hadn’t he thought of this before Stokes had gone?

He smiled at Miss Carlton, a false one to be sure. His had always been a life of pleasure organized by other people to accommodate him. How the hell did they think of all these things? What would he do if there were no linen? No fire? No servants? They might have already taken other positions. He couldn’t leave Miss Carlton here alone. Neither could he take her to an inn without a maid or companion. How the devil would he produce either of those at this time of night? Well, he’d have to take charge and hope for the best.

“If you will stay here, please, I’ll just check upstairs to see what’s available.” He frowned and apologized. “I’m afraid you may have rough quarters for tonight.”

She laughed, and her shoulders slumped beneath her cloak. “I assure you, Lord Trevor, this is a palace compared to the places I have had to sleep in recently.” Gingerly at first, she eased onto the chair, then settled quickly into its depths. “I’m so comfortable, I would be quite content to curl up right here.”

What a delightful damsel in distress. With a nod he headed upstairs.

Automatically, his feet turned toward what had been Serena’s bedchamber. Well, it would still have to serve. The house had been fitted out with only one bed. The light of his candle revealed a clean-swept room, orderly if severe. All of the former occupant’s frilly and colorful decor had been stripped away, leaving a chest of drawers, a full-length mirror, washstand, and of course the massive bed where he’d so often frolicked.

No sheets or covers. Where would they be kept? He shook his head. The efficient Mrs. Parker would have left nothing that did not come with the furnished house. Tris sighed and left. Miss Carlton would have to make do until he could remedy the situation tomorrow.

“I’m afraid you will find the chamber—” Tris stopped as he crossed the threshold.

Miss Carlton sat curled in the chair, asleep. The exhausted lines in her face had gone, smoothed out in her peaceful slumber. She reminded him of an innocent child. A very beautiful child, with delicately arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, and creamy skin that begged for him to touch it.

He set the candle on the mantelpiece and approached her quietly, uncertain whether to wake her or let her sleep. She would be stiff and sore if he allowed her to remain cramped in the chair. Still he hated to waken that cherubic face. Could he move her without awakening her? Even the nearby sofa would be better for her to stretch out on.

Gently, he eased his arm around her shoulders and rolled her toward him.

She stirred briefly, then lay still, her head on his shoulder.

He stifled a groan as her touch sent a new wave of anguish to his groin. Damn, but he must take care of that as soon as possible. If he was going to help this woman, he couldn’t have an erection every time she touched him. Tris slid his other arm under her legs and lifted her.

She nestled into his chest, which wreaked further havoc with his cock.