A Proper Mistress (22 page)

With a shake of his head, he put his wine glass down. "No wonder you thought me a bit mad to be courting a split within my own family."

She glanced down to swirl her wine. Looking up again, she tried to make a joke of it. "At least you're not like to end up in a workhouse—or waiting in an agency for employment and meeting up with the likes of Sallie."

"An agency?" he said, sounding so appalled that Molly had to smile. It had been a good thing she had met Sallie after being turned away from Porter and Sons—otherwise, she might have found herself on the street, meeting far less agreeable persons.

"You'd be surprised just how many girls Sallie gets from employment agencies—or from their doorsteps, rather. If you lack references, and I did after the house I'd worked in burnt down, you can't find anything respectable really."

"My God, but you've had the worst run of luck."

Her smiled widened. "Well, the fever in Madras didn't take me. And I didn't drowned or shipwreck sailing from India, or burn up in that house fire, so you could say it's better luck than some."

Putting down her wine, she plucked a strawberry from a silver basket and popped it into her mouth. In truth, she knew herself for blessed enough—though it hadn't always seemed so at the time. However, she had seen those hard-painted madams whose girls looked half-starved and half-scared. And she had lived in London long enough to know of the bullies who made their women walk the street.

And just now she was sitting with a gentleman in a fine house.

Yes, if one looked for blessings, there were plenty to find.

Theo kept staring at her, his gaze intense, and she shifted on her pillow, wishing he would make some light quip, or shift with that mercurial mood of his into some other topic. She should not have talked so much about herself.

Glancing around the room, she saw a hobby horse in the corner and gestured to it. "Was that yours or your brother's?"

Theo glanced at it and back to her. "Both, in turn. Terrance is five years my senior and outgrew most everything here before I'd come along. And you've strawberry on your lips."

She rubbed at the corner of her mouth, but Theo sat up and brushed his thumb across the other side. He took hold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger.

"Is it still there?" she asked, looking up at him as he held her face still.

His expression softened. He nodded. "Still there."

Leaning forward, he touched his lips to the spot his fingers had rubbed. His tongue flickered out, a feathering brush. She let out a breath. Gracious, but it felt so good.

He slipped his hand to her waist and leaned forward, pulling pull her down to the floor with him, and she knew she was on that edge with him again and couldn't afford to let him go further. She wasn't sure she would be able to hold herself back.

Half-turning, she slipped away and struggled to her feet, her face hot and her heartbeat too fast and half of her wishing she could lie back down with him. Only she could not risk it. Not when he'd too soon find out that she wasn't the strumpet she pretended. This fantasy was a delicate game. Like the lightest of pastry, it would harden into ruin if handled too much.

From the floor, he glared at her, frustration tight on his face. "Blazes, but you are the worst tease!"

"Tease?" she said, stiffening and not entirely certain what he meant. The gentlemen in Sallie's house used that term often enough, but they said it with an indulgent tone. Theo did not make the word sound an endearment.

"Yes, tease—you torment a man. All tantalizing glimpses and unfulfilled promises!"

"Just what have I promised that I've not given?"

In one fluid move, he rose to his feet. She almost stepped back as he closed on her, but he had a look in his eyes that left her feeling that if she gave ground he'd only start hunting her.

"I've not yet been disinherited—and I'm not going to be at the rate we're going."

"Well, that's hardly my fault, now is it? After all, your father's not a stupid man, and it wouldn't surprise me if he knows this is all a game—folks just know that sort of thing. So don't go blaming me if no one believes the truth that we're not really lovers."

He came a step closer and the heat from him washed over her. Her pulse skidded up a notch faster. Perhaps she should move away. Only her feet stuck to the carpet with reluctant muscles that didn't want to step away from him.

Glancing down, he traced a line with his finger from her shoulder, down the inside of her bare arm to her wrist.

"We'll just have to make the relationship more real then, won't we?"

Mouth dry, she knew she had best dash some cold reality on them both, so she put one hand on her hip and slipped into her best Sallie accent. "I told you—that'll cost more!"

Her words did nothing to extinguish the glittering light in his eyes.
He hasn't drunk that much
, she thought, her pulse skittering now with an answering excitement.
Oh, gracious, perhaps I have!

"What if I make it an even two hundred pounds for your time with me?"

Lips parting, she stared at him, the shock sizzling through her. "Two hundred," she repeated. He was joking—as she had been the other night. And she saw how very serious he was.

Molly did the calculation rapidly—if he was offering to round up to two hundred pounds, he must have offered Sallie well over a hundred to start. And she'd once been worried that by taking her fifty pounds she wasn't doing Sallie fair!

Anger began to bubble.

Well, Sallie had said that she had taken her share. What she had omitted was that she'd helped herself to the largest portion.

Molly pressed her lips tight as the outrage simmered hotter. It wasn't so much the amount—though that sum did dazzle—but the principle of it. Sallie had been willing to let her do all the work.

Well, she'd always known that Sallie had her own code—and here, it seemed, was where she and Sallie parted ways. She would no longer worry about keeping her position at Sallie's house. Besides, with even a hundred pounds in her pocket, she as good as had that inn she wanted.

Only now she had to earn that sum.

Pulling in a breath, she thought about brazenly putting her arms around Theo's neck and pulling him close and giving him his money's worth.

But when it came to actually doing just that, she couldn't move. She couldn't do it. Not for money.

So what did she do?

Well, she was supposed to be a brazen woman, so she said, "Now, ducks, I don't likes to take advantage of you."

His smile crooked and he took her hand to play with her fingers. "But I want to take advantage of you."

Her insides hollowed.

"Come now—two hundred to be my lover. Is that not lure enough?" Theo said, widening his smile. And he could swear he saw hesitation in her glance—and a flicker of desire.

She wet her lips, her tongue darting over the pink softness. He wanted to copy the gesture and lick those lips. But he had the oddest sense that he could frighten her off if he pushed too hard just now. She really wasn't such a jade as she tried to let on, and he wanted with a sudden urgency to take her under his protection.

It struck him suddenly that for all the outrageous sums she'd named the other night, she'd been surprised by the sum he named. He thought of Sallie insisting on her fifty pounds up front, tucking the money inside her dress—all without Molly in the room.

Sallie must have held out on the girl. What had Sallie named as the sum for her to earn—perhaps only a few pounds? No wonder she'd been so unwilling. And no wonder she'd flippantly named exorbitant sums, for she'd thought he would not pay.

"I've paid Sallie fifty already, but the rest is yours to claim. You've only to be my lover in more than name."

She stared up at him, eyes wide, her lips parted as if to say something—and he knew an opportunity when he saw one.

Catching her waist, he pulled her close and fitted his mouth across hers. She stiffened only for a moment, and loosened into pliant heat. Blazes, but she was ripe for the picking.

He pulled back a moment before he began to feather kisses across the freckles on her nose. Her lashes had lowered, half-veiling the fire in those desire-clouded green eyes.

Two hundred pounds for her—was he mad? That left his pockets empty, but still he could not think it a poor bargain.

Bending over her, he nuzzled her neck just under where the pearl dangled.

A sigh of pure pleasure slipped from her.

He smiled. Once this farce ended, he'd set her up as his mistress proper, and he'd...

Frowning, his kisses stopped and he stood there with this luscious armful, his mouth still pressed to her skin and his thought tripping over themselves.

What was he thinking? He he'd never wanted anything but a bit of fun with a woman. Didn't Terrance always say that...

He stopped himself there again.

Who cared what Terrance thought or said? Oh, perhaps once he had looked to have a life like his brother's—careless of what others thought, no ties, no permanence. But that seemed to get Terrance only trouble and more trouble. And would it not be a treat to have his Molly snug in some rooms somewhere, just for him.

The idea pulled a smile from him.

But how do I keep her as my mistress if I've no money?

Pulling back from her, he glared at her.

It wasn't her fault that she tempted so. He ached for her. And he could have her. For now. That should be enough.

Only what if one taste of her gave him an appetite for more?

His frown tightened. Of all the times to discover that he had not thought ahead far enough in this! Which meant that he had best figure a way forward through these briars before he tangled himself utterly.

Pushing her away, he held her at arm's length. Her eyes fluttered wide and she stared at him, looking surprised. He nearly pulled her back into his hold, but that was courting too much temptation. No, he had to sort this out with a clear head, and he couldn't do that with her befuddling his senses.

He flicked a finger across her nose. "You're a sweet Sweet, my Molly. Now why don't you go parade those pearls before my father."

She stared at him a moment, looking as if he might protest. Frowning, she said, "I suppose that is what you're paying me for."

The words cut, and he wanted to protest that he wasn't paying for that. Only he was.

She started for the door, but paused to glance back, confusion in her eyes. He offered back a smile.

You're no more confused that I, my Molly.

An answering smile slowly curved her lips. Thank heavens, she left before she tempted him into changing his mind and dragging him into his arms.

Letting out a breath, he ran his fingers through his hair. So what did he do now? He'd bought her—and he had her. Only was he best off not to acquire a taste for sweets—or to find a way to keep her?

He wandered to the window and looked out. Bits of blue showed from behind the gray as clouds scudded fast across the sky. He could see the barn and a few of the home farm buildings. And how did a fellow keep a mistress if he had no coins in his pocket nor jewels to offer?

He'd had vague ideas before this of keeping himself with the gambling tables, but could he win enough to hold onto his Molly? There was always Europe to travel now with the war ended, with its cheap lodgings and meals. Only he didn't fancy living in some foreign country for the rest of his life.

Oh, damn Terrance.

Perhaps he ought to give Molly his mother's pearls—only, really, he knew that they had to go to Terrance's bride. As did the estate. And that ring and bracelet really had to go back to Smyth and Garson—though maybe he could convince Terrance, once he was re-inherited, that he now owed a debt to his brother.

That thought deepened his frown.

Here he was doing all this for Terrance and he had not so much as heard a word from his brother. Typical! Blazes, but he wished the fellow would show his face so they could all have this out in a good argument that would clear the air.

Turning from the window, he glanced at the remains of the picnic and his frown softened.