Regency High Society Vol 6: The Enigmatic Rake / The Lord And The Mystery Lady / The Wagering Widow / An Unconventional Widow. Anne O'Brien

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СКАЧАТЬ that enabled her to walk her own path and care for her son.

      Nor was there any way in which he could make life easier for her under his own roof without being inappropriately obvious.

      He did what he could, but quickly discovered that if she suspected any degree of preferential treatment on his part, she retaliated. He saw her with the children taking the air in Hyde Park, noting that she looked chilled to the bone in a velvet spencer not at all suited to the suddenly changeable weather. Without thought beyond her comfort, he arranged for a warm coat, styled very much in the fashion of a gentleman’s greatcoat with little epaulettes, discreet frogging on the front and in a flattering deep blue velvet, to be delivered to her room with a note explaining his desire that she should not die of cold when taking his daughter for exercise in the Park. The coat was returned with an equally polite note. Mrs Russell thanked his lordship, but had no need of such a garment. She had her own coat and a voluminous cape for cold weather if he was at all concerned. Lord Joshua Faringdon swore at the intransigence of women, but could hardly force her to wear it!

      He tried again. When he discovered her intention to visit Judith on a particularly damp afternoon, taking John with her, he ordered the barouche to be available for her at the front door. Sarah stared at it in disbelief and ordered its immediate return to the stables. They would walk. The exercise would do them good.

      All he could do was what Mrs Russell could have arranged for herself. Which gave him no satisfaction whatsoever. He insisted through Millington that fires be lit in the lady’s rooms and the schoolroom, with hot meals for herself and the children, both at lunch time and in the evening. A ready supply of paper and pencils and books and free access to his library. She need never ask for anything. But, of course, infuriating woman that she was, she never did.

      For her life below stairs, she would have to fend for herself, but even here he was tempted into gallant and high-handed decisions to remove some of the burden from the lady’s slight shoulders. He need not have bothered, he realised with gritted teeth. He was soon left under no illusions when he went too far. After much thought, he arranged for Mrs Russell’s responsibilities to be shared by other members of the staff to allow her a full day of leisure every week rather than the usual afternoon at the end of every fortnight. Within less than an hour he found himself facing a highly displeased Mrs Russell in the breakfast parlour. Her voice never rose beyond its usual cool, light timbre, but the emotion that she brought with her into the room was inflammatory.

      ‘I find, to my amazement, that I have been relieved of all my duties for today.’ A pause. ‘My lord,’ she added.

      ‘Correct.’ He could not read her face, so tried for the noncommittal.

      ‘I am due to only half a day every fortnight.’

      ‘Today you are at liberty, Mrs Russell.’

      ‘I do not need it. It is unfair on your staff who have to take on my work. And who will teach the children?’

      He had not thought of that. ‘The children can spend some time with me.’ God help me! ‘Surely you can find things to do with a whole day at your disposal?’

      ‘That is not the point at issue, my lord.’

      ‘As your employer, it is in my power to decide when and how you work.’

      ‘I am your housekeeper and your governess.’ Her eyes flashed like sapphires in a candle flame. Flashed with temper. He could now read her face perfectly. ‘My terms of employment were agreed with the Countess of Painscastle before you took up residence. I need nothing but the terms on which I first came here. I shall take the afternoon on Wednesday as arranged. My lord!’

      Without waiting for a reply, she dropped a curtsy, picked up his empty plate from the table, turned on her heel and left him to enjoy his cooling cup of coffee.

      Behaving just like any other servant in the house! Damn the woman! But, by God, she had been magnificent. And astonishingly beautiful when she allowed her fury to break its bonds.

      Lord Joshua Faringdon, used to ordering matters to suit himself, might not have felt quite so dissatisfied with events if he had known the lady’s reactions to his chivalry. In a moment of idiocy before returning the splendid coat laid out for her, she had buried her face in the blue velvet—before dropping the soft fabric as if it burned her hands. It was lovely. She could not allow it. Must not. But it hurt to throw his gestures back in his face—such as dismissing the barouche when he had been so thoughtful. But then, she did not know what his motives might be.

      Neither, to be fair, did his lordship.

      But one thing he could do over which she had no jurisdiction. The time had come. The Countess of Wexford, he decided, had long outstayed her welcome. Wycliffe had been instrumental in her presence to strengthen his cover as a dilettante. He had seen the value of that on his return to London when gossip over his immoral ways had run rife, but enough was enough. Nor, suddenly, for some inexplicable reason did he wish to appear quite so unprincipled and lacking in moral decency. He could no longer tolerate her attentions, her clear designs on his time and his interest. Certainly he did not appreciate her heavily patronising manner toward Mrs Russell, a manner that had been allowed full expression since the incident of the French banquet.

      It was more than time that their paths parted.

      He needed an opportunity to suggest that the lady leave. And if one did not present itself, then he would have to end the situation as carefully and discreetly as possible.

      The former did not arise, so he was driven with some distaste to the latter, after making some thoughtful preparations.

      * * *

      ‘I have seen so little of you, my lord.’ Olivia Wexford entered his library on the following evening, where he was sitting with a glass of brandy and a recent edition of the Gentleman’s Magazine. A provocative swing of expensively gowned hips advertised her deliberate intent. The neckline of the emerald silk was cut low on her bosom and, unless he was very much mistaken, her lovely face was enhanced by the use of cosmetics. Her mouth, deliciously red, settled in an inviting pout, her heavy perfume invaded his senses. His lordship felt a sudden urge to retreat in disorder, but stiffened his resolve.

      ‘Forgive me, Olivia. I have not been the best of company.’ He called on the excuse of his damaged hip and knee, with silent apologies to the deity who had granted him the facility to heal quickly and well. ‘My leg. The pain, you understand. Sometimes it is almost too great to bear.’ He managed to move surprisingly quickly from his chair, even without the use of his cane, to avoid an inevitable kiss as the lady approached. ‘Perhaps I can offer you a glass of brandy?’

      ‘No. I suspected that you were in some discomfort.’ Her intense expression was not quite critical of his lack of attention to her. She followed him to where he had lifted the decanter to refill his own glass. Oh, God! ‘But perhaps now that you are able to walk more easily, and without your cane…’ She smoothed a hand delicately down his arm, looking up into his face with wide and lustrous eyes. ‘Perhaps you would be willing to escort me to the opera? It would be good for you to see friends again, I think. And afterwards a light supper where you could spend time with me, of course. Alone.’

      ‘I would be delighted to oblige, Olivia. But I regret not this evening. I have another engagement.’ He cast about in his mind, only to come up with the obvious. ‘At Brooks’s.’ The only place he could be safe.

      ‘Ah!’ The faintest of lines was drawn between her sleek brows, but then she smiled. It reminded him of a raptor’s hungry interest СКАЧАТЬ