His Mistress

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Authors: Monica Burns

Tags: #Romance, #Historical

BOOK: His Mistress
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His Mistress

By
Monica Burns

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Kathi B. Scearce

EPUB Edition

Cover Design: Patricia Schmitt, Pickyme Digital Artist

Editor: Rosie Murphy

Line Editor: Rob Van De Laak

Kathi B. Scearce DBA Monica Burns – Maroli SP Imprints

P.O. Box 75072

Richmond, VA 23236

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

Publishing History

Digital 1.0 Edition / 2014

Print 1.0 Edition / 2014

Acknowledgements

As with all books, there are always some who help improve and shape the book from the author’s original vision. I’d like to thank Joey W. Hill for her incredible honesty in offering suggestions and answering all my questions. Thanks to Kally Masters for answering my absurd questions relating to BDSM equipment and other outrageous possibilities my mind developed. Many thanks to Rosie Murphy for her wonderful friendship, editorial advice, and arm twisting when I’ve stubbornly refused to see the light. Thanks to Rob Van De Laak for his line editing skills, and to Paul Salvette and team for their exceptional formatting skills.

Heartfelt thanks also go to the gracious ladies who read the initial draft of HIS MISTRESS and offered up opinions as to what changes needed to be made for an improved book, Lisa Nelms, Lisa Jo Englelke, and Hollie Reith, your insights helped put me back on the track. To the awesome ladies of my street team, Monica’s Red Hots, thank you for all your promotional efforts in getting the word out there about my books. Your efforts are phenomenal and so well appreciated. A huge thank you to Kris Bloom, beta reader extraordinaire. Strong critiques with a gentle touch. I should call you Angélique’s pupil when it comes to how to use a whip while drawing just a pinprick of blood.

And finally, to the Daisy Nipple Gang, thank you for being there for me. Without all the laughter, tears, rants, snorting, and everything else that comes from having friends like you, my life would be far less meaningful. We truly are members of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, but our divine secret is that our sisterhood name is much more awesome.

Author’s Note

Although the term “BDSM” has only existed since 1969, the culture itself has existed for centuries, some say as far back as the ninth century B.C. However, the rules of conduct currently observed in present day have not been established for any great length of time.

In researching the BDSM culture for this series, there were no definitive sources to pull from related to the rules of conduct in the Victoria era. The terms used in the Self-Made Man series may or may not have been used in the Victorian era. However, I have taken creative license to use Lady in place of Mistress and Lord in place of Master. Given the era in which the characters live in, these titles seem more appropriate given the customs and language usage of the Victorian age.

The term slumming originated during the early nineteenth century. It was the habit of the nobility and merchant classes to visit the impoverished sections of London either motivated for the purpose of entertainment or altruistic reasons.

Chapter 1

London 1892

T
he man had lost his mind.

Tobias fought to hide his amazement at the Earl of Culverstone’s offer. The last thing he needed was a wife. Lady Jane seemed pleasant enough, but he had more than one reason for not taking a wife before now. The unsavory prospect of the earl as his father-in-law was another reason he could add to the list. But the darkest reason was a much greater threat.

“In different circumstances, you would be unsuitable for Jane.” The earl’s expression was condescending with an air of superiority. “But experience has taught me that you’re an honorable man, and where you’re concerned, I can make an exception with regard to your background.”

“As much as I appreciate your willingness to accept a commoner for a son-in-law, I must refuse.” The note of sarcasm in Tobias’ quiet response went unnoticed by the earl.

“Refuse?” Culverstone snapped. “I’ve just handed you the golden goose, Lynsted. Why the devil would you refuse?”

“I have no desire to marry, my lord.”

“Nonsense. Every man needs a wife, if only to sire an heir.” Culverstone eyed him with a calculating look that hardened Tobias’ muscles with tension as the earl shrugged. “I know Jane is a mousy thing, and while she’s been on the shelf for years, an annual living of five thousand pounds should be enough for you to take her off my hands.”

“Nonetheless, I must refuse. As I have already stated, I have no wish to marry.”

Tobias suppressed his irritation at the earl’s assessment of Lady Jane. Although he’d never given much thought to the looks of the earl’s daughter, it didn’t excuse Culverstone’s cavalier manner when it came to his own progeny. He frowned slightly as he tried to remember what Lady Jane actually looked like based on the few occasions they’d greeted each other.

All he could recall were gray dresses, dark hair pulled severely away from a round face, and a wide-eyed gaze that was at odds with her straight-laced appearance. Regardless of the woman’s looks, Culverstone’s derision set Tobias on edge.

“I’m not willing to accept your answer, Lynsted,” the earl said. With an arrogant smile, Culverstone rose from his seat and moved to the window a few feet away from his desk. Tobias had never cared for the man, but the earl paid well.

“Unfortunately, I can offer you no other response.”

“Oh I think you can, my boy.” The earl turned to face him, a smug look on his features.

“I’m sorry my lord, but I have no need of a wife,” Tobias said as he rose to his feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be late for my next appointment if I don’t leave now.”

“Ah, yes, your appointments. What would happen if your clients knew what you did when you’re not tending to their affairs?”

“I’ve never hidden the work I do in the East End,” Tobias said with a cold contempt.

“Actually, I was thinking about your more…leisurely activities,” the man said in a complacent manner, and Tobias stiffened. The bastard sounded as though he held the winning card in a game of chance. He narrowed his gaze at the earl.

“How I take my leisure is no one’s concern.”

“Perhaps not if it were considered
normal
by society’s standards. Sit.”

A small smile of cruel satisfaction curved the earl’s lips as he nodded toward the chair Tobias had vacated only seconds before. There was an ultimatum in the command that Tobias obeyed with great reluctance. Antipathy snaked through Tobias as he visualized pummeling the earl until the man was pleading for mercy.

With an icy restraint he generally reserved for the criminal elements he dealt with in the East End, Tobias moved slowly toward the chair. Deliberately, he forced a thin smile to his lips as he struggled with the rage and darkness surging through him. As Tobias sat down, the earl clasped his hands behind his back.

Determined not to give the bastard any advantage in their conversation, Tobias rested his elbows on the arms of the chair. Fingers steepled in front of him, Tobias forced himself to maintain a casual demeanor and eyed the man with feigned curiosity. Despite his outward appearance of nonchalance, he was anything,
but
relaxed. Whatever information the earl possessed, surely it couldn’t be his darkest secret. The earl’s forehead furrowed in a scowl as if he were worried about something.

“You don’t seem concerned, my boy.” Again the feigned words of familiarity. Tobias gritted his teeth.

“Should I be?” He arched his eyebrows at the man’s statement.

“Actually, I think you should, given the information I received yesterday.”

“Information?” Tobias’ limbs became as rigid as freshly cut hardwood.

“Yes,” the earl said with a nod of satisfaction as if aware of Tobias’ tension. “I think you’re familiar with a townhouse near Regent’s Park at the end of Harrington Street.”

“Harrington Street?” Tobias successfully kept his voice devoid of emotion, despite the panic slicing through him.

“Yes. A house that caters to various types of sexual perversions and persuasions.”

The earl frowned then smiled as if fully aware that Tobias’ response was designed to avoid addressing the topic altogether. With the steely control he’d learned a long time ago, Tobias maintained his outwardly nonchalant composure. Inside, his anxiety threatened to take full control of his senses. He was unaccustomed to the sensation, and he didn’t like it.

How in the hell could Culverstone know anything about his choice of lifestyle? Over the past year, work had severely limited his visits to
La Maison des Plaisirs Sombres
. In fact, extremely limited those visits. In the last ten months alone, he’d visited the club only two or three times. And those visits had been private sessions, which Angélique had arranged with one of the more experienced Ladies in the club.

Even at the hand of that skilled Lady, those few moments had provided only a small measure of sexual release. The effort to quench his dark needs had barely touched the surface of the desires buried deep inside him. Now, Culverstone was threatening him with exposure and jeopardizing the one outlet he possessed for appeasing the demons that plagued him. Rage crushed the panic inside him. He narrowed his eyes at the earl.

“Are you suggesting I’m a sodomite, my lord?” Tobias’ anger made his voice harsh, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek. It was his first display of anger since the conversation had begun. A fact the earl did not miss as the bastard smiled pleasantly.

“Not at all. My informant assures me that your tendencies for buggery are quite unfounded.” The disclosure tightened the knot in Tobias’ stomach.

“I fail to see the point to this conversation,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion.

“Then let me clarify it for you, Lynsted. If you don’t marry my daughter, I shall expose your proclivity for deviant behavior, which will ensure a complete loss of income.” The earl’s calmly worded threat brought Tobias abruptly to his feet.

“What do you
really
want, Culverstone?”

“I’ve already told you. I wish you to marry Jane.”

“Why would you blackmail me into marrying your daughter?” Tobias snapped.

“Blackmail is a rather harsh assessment. I prefer to think of it as an incentive with regard to the opportunity I’m offering you.”

“Don’t take me for a fool,” Tobias bit out viciously. “You’ve just threatened to publicly denounce me as a sexual deviant. I’d call that blackmail. The question is, why?”

“Jane is an impediment to my upcoming marriage,” Culverstone said with a shrug. “Lady Hounslow and my daughter have an intense dislike for one another. Jane must leave if I’m to have any peace.”

“And marrying her off to me is the answer? A man you believe to be a reprobate?”

Disgust filled Tobias’ voice as he eyed the man with disdain. What sort of man was willing to sacrifice his daughter to a husband whose private lifestyle deviated from what society deemed acceptable? Culverstone wasn’t just a bastard, he was worse than some of the lowest gutter elements Tobias encountered almost every day in the East End.

“Jane has asked for a household of her own, but Lady Hounslow’s of the opinion that my daughter would be much better off if she were married. I am inclined to agree with Lady Hounslow’s opinion where Jane’s future is concerned. Unfortunately, Jane’s age makes it difficult to find someone equal to her station in life,” the earl said with a note of irritation in his voice. “Thus it was necessary to look further afield. I believe you will act honorably where Jane is concerned.”

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