Marrying the Mistress. Juliet Landon

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ my lord, you have. Shall we say no more about it, if you please?’

      ‘Of course. Are you quite recovered?’

      ‘Yes. Quite.’

      ‘Then we shall return.’ Handing her the reins, he took stock of her smooth curvaceous lines under the habit, the neat waist and long back, the white lace at her throat. Black glossy hair was bundled into a gold net under her saucily feathered hat, and the deep reproachful eyes spiked with long black lashes were like pools to drown a man. Her full lips were mobile upon a skin of peach that he knew his brother had begun to abandon as his illness progressed and that this, as much as anything else, was a prime source of her distress.

      Their return to the others, side by side, did not escape the notice of Lady Veronique Slatterly, whose displeasure bordered on extreme folly. ‘Where have you two been?’ she demanded, wheeling her grey mare round in circles ahead of them. Her blue eyes were cold and hard upon Helene.

      Winterson’s reply did nothing to thaw them, though her skin turned a healthy pink. ‘I have not had to account for my whereabouts since I was fourteen, Lady Slatterly, and I don’t intend to start again now. Nor, I imagine, does Miss Follet owe you an explanation.’

      Snubbed in no uncertain terms, the astonished woman hauled her mare savagely away and, though Helene caught sight of her several times during the afternoon, she did not approach.

      It was Linas himself who answered Helene’s query about the exact nature of Lady Slatterly’s relationship with his brother. Was she his mistress, or merely one of the hopefuls?

      ‘He has no official mistress,’ Linas told her on the way back to Abbots Mere. ‘Veronique believes she stands a good chance, but she’ll have to toe the line and curb her sharp tongue if she wants to get anywhere with Burl. He doesn’t like the controlling kind of woman. Not even our mother had much success there.’

      The parents, Lord and Lady Stillingfleete, had never exercised much control over any of their three sons, and had left the family home at Abbots Mere to live in a smaller Georgian house in Harrogate, within reach of the healing baths. Their large estate was now in Winterson’s capable hands, visited only once or twice a year by the owners when they wanted a change of scenery.

      * * *

      As a result of Winterson’s reprimand, Lady Slatterly’s rudeness seemed to abate on the second evening, giving Helene some respite from the woman’s jealousy. It also seemed to Helene that Winterson’s manner had changed too, even if she was the only one to notice that, this time, he took part in her conversations instead of distancing himself, showing more of an interest in her well-being.

      Linas was exhausted after missing his afternoon rest, and at dinner Helene could see how he fought against his fatigue. Not wishing to prevent him from drinking more wine than usual while so many were there to see, she was obliged to watch in dismay as his glass was refilled time and again. His speech began to slur, and his pale skin became unhealthily mottled.

      Unable to hide the concern in her eyes, she found her looks intercepted by Winterson’s equally worried frown. It was getting late, yet no one had deserted the gaming tables or the chatting groups arranged on couches and floor cushions. She shook her head at the young footman holding a tray of filled glasses in front of Linas, but too late to prevent one being removed, clumsily, sloshing the contents over white knee breeches and carpet.

      She went to him, hoping to offer some unobtrusive help, but Winterson was there before her, lifting his brother under each armpit and good-naturedly ignoring his protests. ‘Come on up, old chap. Enough for one day.’

      ‘Stay with your guests, my lord,’ Helene said. ‘I’ll go up with him.’

      ‘No, you stay here. I’ll see to him myself. Nairn is on his way.’

      ‘He’ll be at his supper.’

      ‘I sent for him. Lespeaking ave him to us.’

      His commands offered her a certain comfort for, although she had not wanted to stay amongst the guests for much longer, the alternative was even less appealing. To hand control over to his authoritative twin would be no great sacrifice.

      She stayed in the drawing room for another hour, managing to convince all except one that she was as light-hearted as the rest of them. Winterson reappeared to lead a silly game of charades, but the pace slackened and, two by two, the ladies withdrew to their rooms to prepare for the night, still giggling and flirting. Helene was relieved that she and Linas would be returning to York in the morning. She would leave him at his spacious Stonegate home to rest and recover, and she would go to her well-ordered house on Blake Street, which was not really hers but Linas’s. She would pretend to be its mistress when the reality was that she could stay only as long as Linas was alive.

      If she could have given him an heir, her future would be more assured, but that was unlikely to happen, for both of them had realised some time ago that one of them must be infertile. Having as much pride as he, Helene preferred to believe that the fault must lay with him, but Winterson’s wounding enquiry about her future had inflamed a painful truth that was never far from her darkest thoughts that, no matter which of them was responsible for their childlessness, the outlook remained bleak.

      Deep in thought, she allowed her maid to undress her and to lock away the few jewels Linas had given her since their first Christmas together. He had never thought it necessary to shower her with gifts, but now her birthday had come and gone without a word, and the thought re-occurred yet again that their relationship must be on the wane. Ought she to leave him now, before he did? Should she find another lover, and be passed from one to the next until…until what? Had his brother anticipated the end of the partnership? Was that another reason for his coolness?

      With a pang of guilt, she decided not to go to Linas’s room, knowing how the scene would do nothing to lighten her spirits. His brother and valet had tended him, and now he would be snoring heavily under a mountain of extra blankets with all the windows tightly shuttered and a lamp left burning next to the mahogany commode. The air would be heavy with the odour of medications and sweat. It was no place for lovers.

      For a few moments longer she watched the rain beat upon the night-blackened window and run down the glass, parting and joining, lashed sideways by fitful gusts of wind. Then, drawing the curtains to shut out the sight of her distorted naked reflection, she parted the cool sheets and slipped between them, gasping at the sting of freshness upon her skin, her feet seeking the places where the warming-pan hadspeaking recently been. The maid tiptoed across to the candlestick and blew out the flame, leaving her mistress to her rest.

      Not for many weeks had Linas stayed overnight at her Blake Street house, nor had he invited her to stay at his, and so it was with an immediate sense of consolation that, in unthinking half-sleep, she accepted the gentle movement of the sheets behind her and the slight dip of the feather mattress as his weight tipped her against him. She had been asleep, that much she knew, for the wind had whipped itself into a howling spring gale that rattled the old casement windows, and drowsily she wondered whether it was that which had disturbed him or the sudden remembrance of her birthday. With a grunt of contentment she snuggled deeper into his warm body and took the weight of his arm upon her hip, expecting that he would straight away resume his sleep.

      But the weeks of abstinence were testimony to the way her senses remembered him, for instead of the tang of friars’ balsam, laudanum or linctus, there was a fresh moorland smell of heather and larch trees after rain, and instead of the heavy limpness of his arm, this one was thick and prickly with fuzz, moving over her skin with a purpose, his fingers spread wide to cover hers.

СКАЧАТЬ