The Perfect Mistress. Victoria Alexander

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      He hesitated for no more than the space of a breath. “I have not felt it necessary to bring this to his attention out of concern for his well-being.”

      “What a thoughtful son you are.” She smiled pleasantly.

      “Indeed I am.” He leaned toward her. “Lady Winterset, let me be clear on this point. I find nothing enjoyable about reading of the … the amorous dalliances of my father and I have no desire to discuss intimate details of his past with him.”

      “I can well appreciate that, my lord.”

      He stared at her in surprise. “Then you understand?”

      “Most certainly.” She raised a shoulder in a casual shrug. “If Lady Middlebury was alive, I can’t imagine discussing her adventures with her. Why, I would be dreadfully embarrassed.”

      “Exactly.” The tense line of his shoulders relaxed a bit. “Then surely you can see why I do not wish the public to read of this … relationship with your great-grandmother.”

      “I can see it quite clearly.”

      “Excellent. I did not expect …” He cast her a genuine smile and it struck her as both very nice and little used. “I have a request then to make of you.”

      “Yes?”

      “Lady Smithson has made me aware of your financial difficulties so I understand your need to sell the memoirs for publication. However, I would be most appreciative if you would remove all reference to my father from the book.” In spite of his polite tone, it was clearly a demand more than a request.

      “No doubt you would be. However …” She shook her head regretfully. “I’m afraid I can’t possibly do that. As you said, the state of my finances is such that I have no choice but to sell this manuscript. Eliminating the section about your father would diminish the overall value of the work.”

      He stared in disbelief. This was a man obviously unused to being refused. “But my father is alive whereas I suspect the majority of the other companions Lady Mid-dlebury lists are not.”

      She nodded. “That does seem to be true, at least given what I have read thus far.”

      “Scandal has never touched my family, Lady Winter-set.” A warning sounded in his voice. “And I refuse to allow it to do so now. I realize your family—”

      Her spine stiffened. “Contrary to your implication, my family has, as well, been scandal free in recent generations.”

      “Yes, of course. My apologies.” He drew a deep breath and leaned forward. “May I be completely candid with you, Lady Winterset?”

      “Please.”

      He paused, as if trying to decide just how candid he wished to be, then drew a deep breath. “My father has lived a somewhat, shall we say colorful, private life and has not always been as discreet as one would hope. My family has, however, managed to keep his indiscretions from becoming public through the years due to my efforts and those of my mother before me. It has not always been an easy task.”

      “I can imagine.”

      He considered her for a long moment. “If you will not remove references to him from this book, let me propose something else.” He pulled an envelope from an unseen pocket and laid it on the desk. “I am prepared to purchase the memoirs myself. You will find the sum I have in mind to be most generous.”

      She picked up the envelope, pulled out a paper that was as fine in quality as his calling card although she expected no less, unfolded it, and read the amount he had written.

      “Most generous indeed,” she said thoughtfully. Lord Mountdale’s offer was nearly twice that of Mr. Cadwallender’s, enough to support her household and her grandmother for several years. “Still, my lord, if the manuscript is published, there will be royalties well into the future. An ongoing income if you will.”

      His brows pulled together. “Surely you do not expect me to provide continuing funding indefinitely?”

      She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t expect anything of you at all. But I must consider the future.”

      He gestured at the page still in her hand. “That is a considerable, even exorbitant, amount of money.”

      She nodded. “It is substantial.”

      “Well?” Impatience sounded in his voice.

      “Let me ask you this.” She met his gaze directly. “If I sell you the memoirs, what do you intend to do with them?”

      Confusion crossed his face. “Nothing.”

      “Nothing?”

      “Well, I shall destroy them, of course.”

      “Of course you will.” She refolded the paper, “Then I fear I must decline. My grand-grandmother entrusted the record of her life to my mother and now it is my responsibility. I cannot allow her manuscript to be destroyed.”

      He stared in disbelief. “But it is a great deal of money. And you need money.”

      “Indeed it is and indeed I do but I must think of tomorrow as well as today.” She shook her head. “If the book sells as well as I have been told it has the potential to do, it shall provide income for years.”

      “Be reasonable, Lady Winterset,” he said in a stern manner. “Do not let misplaced sentiment cloud your judgment.”

      “This has nothing to do with sentiment,” she said sharply. “I am being extremely practical. What you’re offering, in spite of its generosity, is finite. It will not last forever.”

      He continued as if she hadn’t said a word. “I do not know a great deal about the business of publishing but I do know the success or failure of a venture is always a gamble. What I am offering you is a certainty. As for the future, you are, well, a very beautiful woman. Surely you will remarry someday and no doubt soon. Then you will not have to worry about money.”

      She gritted her teeth. “As much as I do appreciate what was no doubt a compliment buried somewhere in your words, I have no intention of marrying anyone for financial stability. And, as I have no prospects at the present time, my marrying again is as much a gamble as the success of The Perfect Mistress.”

      He frowned. “The what?”

      “The Perfect Mistress. That is the title Lady Middle-bury gave to her memoirs.”

      “Oh, that is indeed”—he fairly spat the word—“per-fect.”

      “Little in this world is perfect, my lord. My great-grandmother certainly was not. I am not. Even you are not perfect.” Julia rose to her feet. “As much as I do understand your concerns I cannot allow them to prevent me from doing what I think is best with what is essentially my legacy.”

      He stood, his lips pressed into a hard line. “This is a poor decision on your part, Lady Winterset.”

      She shrugged. “It is neither my first nor do I suspect my СКАЧАТЬ