The Perfect Mistress (23 page)

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Authors: Victoria Alexander

Tags: #Fantasy, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Historical, #Adult, #Regency, #Contemporary

BOOK: The Perfect Mistress
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“I see.”

“I didn’t set out to kiss her. I still have no idea what happened.” He ran his hand through his hair, a gesture completely foreign to him. “One moment I was explaining to her that Ellsworth was a cad who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of her. And the next minute …”

“You were kissing her.”

“You were right about that, you know. About my plan with Ellsworth, I mean.”

“I appreciate you admitting that.” His father chuckled. “I am rarely right.”

Harrison shook his head. “It was, well, wrong of me. And furthermore, has had repercussions I did not anticipate.”

“It brought Lady Winterset to the attention of Ellsworth,” his father said, nodding his head slowly. “That is awkward, given how you feel about her.”

“She is a friend,” he said staunchly. “Aside from a momentary lapse in judgment last night, I feel nothing but friendship for her.”

“Yes.” His father chuckled. “That’s what I meant. Feelings of friendship.” He considered his son thoughtfully then smiled. “Well, you have work to do so I shall leave you in peace.” He stood with the help of his cane and started to the door.

“Father,” Harrison said impulsively and rose to his feet. “If you have any … advice I would be most grateful to hear it.”

His father turned and stared for a moment then a slow smile spread across his face. “I don’t believe you have ever asked me for advice before.”

“This whole business with Julia and Ellsworth’s involvement and the way I feel about Ellsworth’s involvement …” He shook his head. “It all seems completely out of my control and I have no idea what to do now.”

“It’s often completely out of our hands when the situation involves women. Especially women we care for. Even as friends,” he added. “The best advice I ever received on the subject of the eternal conflict between men and women was to trust your heart. I didn’t and have regretted it nearly every day since. Your heart, Harrison, will not fail you.” He nodded then opened the door, paused, and turned back to his son. “Oh, and I would reconsider that nonsense about you feeling nothing more for Lady Winterset than friendship.”

Harrison drew his brows together. “Why?”

“Because, my boy, when I asked how your campaign was going, I was not referring to Lady Winterset but to your pursuit of marriage with Miss Waverly.” He smiled in a knowing manner. “That all that seems to be on your mind is your kissing the delectable Lady Winterset is most telling.” He chuckled. “Most telling indeed.”

Harrison stared at the closed door. What on earth did that mean? It wasn’t most telling. It was … He had no idea what it was. Certainly Julia was on his mind whereas Miss Waverly was not. But that was only due to circumstances. It was nothing more significant that that.

And that nonsense about trusting his heart. It was all well and good to say that but his heart was as confused as his head and could not be trusted. One shouldn’t leave something as important as one’s future to the whims of something as fickle as one’s heart. He had never done so before and had no desire to do so now. Indeed, he’d had no experience whatsoever in matters of the heart. Before now, it had never occurred to him to wonder why.

Or wonder as well if, for the first time, he might possibly be wrong.

 

….and because of that incident, it strikes me that I should explain why I have called this book of memoirs
The Perfect Mistress
. I am certain, Dear Reader, that my adventures have not struck you as being those of a mistress but of someone lax in moral character who flitted from man to man. First, I never flitted, and secondly, my character, in most aspects, was not at all immoral. I never stole, I never cheated, I never became involved with a man who was married, and I never sought to hurt anyone deliberately.

The accepted definition of
mistress
is that of a woman who allows a man to take care of her financial needs in return for carnal favors. I never allowed a man to pay for the necessities of life. Oh, I did accept gifts; it would have been foolish not to. One can sell the spare diamond or ruby if one’s financial circumstances warrant such a thing, although it is always a dreadful shame.

But when I was with a man, I was faithful to him alone. I cost him nothing save his affection and I gave him my heart. If you have not noticed by now, in each and every instance, I gave my heart. And that is why I truly was the perfect mistress as well as why very nearly every one of my adventures ended well.

Still, the end of an adventure, no matter how much both sides agree that what was once shared is at an end, is always bittersweet. But the beginning—there is little to compare with finding a new love as I know I have mentioned before. Regardless, it cannot be said enough.

The very moment I met Sir Anthony and his dark eyes captured mine, I knew, indeed we both knew …

from
The Perfect Mistress,
the Memoirs of Lady Hermione Middlebury

Chapter Twelve

“You can’t avoid him forever, you know.” Hermione sat once again at the foot of Julia’s bed.

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” Julia said, and sat up. She had been expecting a visit from Hermione for days and had discovered, much to her dismay, she slept no better on nights when her great-grandmother didn’t visit than when she did as she was always anticipating her arrival. Besides, she was beginning, albeit reluctantly, to look forward to their chats. “I had no need to see Harrison today nor did he have any need to see me.”

“But you wanted to,” Hermione said with a knowing smile.

“Nonsense,” Julia muttered even though Hermione was right.

In spite of her best efforts, she couldn’t get the kiss they’d shared out of her head. She had never been kissed like that before nor had she ever responded with such unimagined passion. She had felt that kiss right down to her very toes and an ache of need had gripped her so fiercely she had wanted nothing more than to stay locked in his embrace forever. Why, even now, the memory of his lips on hers …

Hermione raised a brow.

Heat washed up Julia’s face. “You needn’t look like that. You have no idea what I’m thinking.”

“I can’t read your mind but the expression on your face is unmistakable.”

“Regardless, Harrison obviously regretted kissing me the moment it happened. He couldn’t wait to be rid of me.”

“Or he was as confused as you.”

Julia scoffed. “I doubt that. I’ve never met a man as less likely to be confused as Harrison Landingham. And no one as confusing.”

“Men are often confused when they don’t listen to what their heart is trying to tell them.” Her voice softened. “Which is what makes them so confusing to women.”

“Now you are being confusing as well.” Julia’s brows drew together. “What are you trying to say?”

“I thought your flirtation with Mr. Ellsworth was quite clever. Most discrete and nicely done.”

Julia huffed. “You are changing the subject.”

“Not entirely.” She paused. “Harrison was well aware of it, you know.”

“Was he?” Julia shrugged but was pleased nonetheless. “I didn’t notice.”

“No, you were too busy trying not to look at him.”

“I didn’t …” She sighed. “I couldn’t.”

Hermione nodded. “You were hurt by his manner, as you had every right to be. Although I’m not at all surprised that he was shocked by his action. It was most improper and defied everything he thinks he knows about himself. It was also a most impressive kiss. I must say, I was quite proud of you.”

“Proud of me? For what?”

“How to say this delicately.” She thought for a moment. “I was somewhat afraid that after marriage to William that you might not surrender to passion when it claimed you.”

Julia gasped. “William was a very passionate man!”

“Was he?”

“Yes,” she said staunchly. “Our marital relations were very … nice.”

“Comfortable as well, no doubt?”

“Yes.”

“And never the least bit surprising?”

“Not at all.”

“Yes, darling, that’s what a woman truly wants.” Hermione nodded. “Intimacies that are comfortable, unsurprising, and
nice.

“You needn’t say ‘nice’ in that manner.”

“‘Nice,’ in this particular context, deserves to be said in that manner.”

“I was very content with William,” Julia said firmly, “in all respects.”

“Tell me, Julia.” Hermione studied her closely. “Did William’s kiss ever make your toes curl?”

“My toes have no need of curling,” she said in a lofty manner.

“But did Harrison’s kiss make your toes curl?”

Julia clenched her teeth. “You know full well it did.”

“Passion is an interesting thing, you know. And never better than when the heart is involved.”

She shrugged. “My heart is not involved nor is his. We shared a moment of … of lust. It’s nothing more than that.”

Hermione snorted. “Lust, my dear, does not linger in the mind of a woman unless her heart is involved.”

“And you are an expert on lust.”

She chuckled. “I am indeed.”

“But you know nothing of love.”

Hermione cast her an offended look. “On the contrary, darling, I know a great deal about love.”

Julia scoffed. “You went from one man to another.”

“Yes, and I loved each and every one of them. I never bedded a man I didn’t love.” Her brows drew together. “Oh, there was that once, that was indeed nothing but pure lust and quite a lot of fun I might add.”

“Dear Lord,” Julia muttered.

“Love is not finite, Julia. One can love more than one man. Admittedly it’s best to only love one at a time. But the fact that you loved William, and I have no doubt that you did, does not mean you cannot love someone else.”

“I don’t love Harrison. I find him … annoying and pompous and stuffy.”

“At first, perhaps, but now?”

“Now?” She thought for a moment. “I don’t know.” In truth, the more she came to know him, the more she liked him. She drew a deep breath. “He is trying to be less stuffy and admittedly he has become somewhat charming. He was very kind to Miss Nelson when she had wanted to read her poetry, although he doesn’t like even good poetry. However, he seems to think my virtue needs protection from men who would take liberties because of you.” She ignored the thought that in a tiny way, it was endearing. “It’s both arrogant and most annoying.”

“That is arrogant of him and I can well understand your annoyance. Although one might consider that jealousy might play a part as well.”

“I doubt that.” Julia scoffed. “I will admit he’s more amusing than I anticipated and more thoughtful as well.”

“Ah yes, the roses. I noticed Benjamin and Mr. Ellsworth sent roses as well. I assume they’re in the maid’s quarters?”

“The maid is most appreciative.” Julia nodded. “The note of apology that accompanied Harrison’s however was brief and tersely worded.”

“The man is confused, dearest. He’s never had these feelings before and he has no idea what to do with them.” She smiled. “He’s not at all like his father.”

“You loved his father?”

“I said I loved them all.” She paused. “Albert was most delightful but in retrospect he was a dreadful mistake. Ripples in a pond, darling. One truly never knows what repercussions one’s actions might ultimately have.” She sighed. “But that is a story for another time.”

“You think I’m in love with Harrison?”

“I think you are right on the edge of plunging into something quite extraordinary that will make you blissfully happy for the rest of your days if you allow yourself to do so.”

Julia was hard-pressed to deny it. Even before last night, it had seemed something was happening between them. Still … She shook her head. “I don’t know how I feel.”

“Let me ask you this then.” Hermione chose her words with care. “How would you feel if the memoirs were disposed of tomorrow and Harrison was out of your life forever? Or, even worse, if he married the insipid Miss Waverly tomorrow?”

The oddest sensation of pain and regret stabbed her somewhere near her heart and her breath caught. “Good Lord.”

Hermione smiled with satisfaction. “I am never wrong about these things. Why, I remember once telling Lady Kentworthy that even though she was most insistent—”

“Ah-hem.” A throat cleared somewhere behind Her-mione. A male throat.

“Don’t tell me that’s another one of your paramours.” Julia heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“I do hope so.” Hermione grinned and glanced over her shoulder. “Gregory, darling, please show yourself. Julia finds disembodied voices to be most unnerving.” She glanced at Julia. “At least I assume you do.”

“It’s remarkable what no longer unnerves me,” Julia said wryly.

At once a gentleman snapped into sight standing behind Hermione. This one was tall and fair-haired and considerably younger than Victor. Julia wondered if he had died young or simply preferred to be seen at this age. Admittedly he was quite handsome.

“Lady Winterset.” Gregory bowed in a polished manner. “How delightful to meet you.” His gaze swept over her. “And in such a charming state of dishabille.”

Julia grabbed her covers and pulled them up to her neck. She glared at her great-grandmother. “Are you planning on bringing your friends every time you come?”

“Not every time.” Hermione rose gracefully to her feet.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Gregory smiled in a manner that made Julia instinctively clutch the covers tighter.

“Julia prefers not to be formally introduced to gentlemen who are dead,” Hermione said with a shrug.

He frowned. “How very narrow-minded of her.”

“Julia prefers not to be introduced, formally or otherwise, to gentlemen, dead or alive, while she is in her bed!” Julia huffed. “And I do wish you would stop inviting your friends here.”

“I did not invite him.” She looked at Gregory. “Did I?”

“No, my dear.” He chuckled. “I simply followed you on wings of love.”

“Utter nonsense.” She lightly smacked his shoulder with her fan and smiled. Julia had stopped wondering where the fan came from. “Gregory is every bit as charming now as he was when he was alive.”

“More, I think,” Gregory said with a grin. “Death has given me the opportunity to sharpen my wit. One does need a sense of the absurd in the hereafter, don’t you agree?”

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