More Than a Mistress

Over the top of the scarf laughter spilled from her blue eyes. She looked like some Far Eastern princess, saucily peeping out from behind a veil. Or she would, if not for the manly driving coat and the man’s felt hat.

He grabbed her hand, tucked it beneath his arm and they began the trek up the hill. He liked the feel of her leaning on him for support. She wasn’t a fragile flower of a woman, but there was absolutely no denying her femininity.

And today she was acting with the propriety of a duchess. He had the strong urge to unravel the puzzle he’d found. And part of that was learning who might want to cause her harm.

He barely noticed the icy fingers of wind tearing at his coat, or the snow cold and wet on his face, because for the first time in a long time he was doing exactly as he pleased.

Chapter Five

Merry hurried along the corridor. She knew why she was hurrying. It had nothing to do with talking to the women and everything to do with escape. From him.

Not because she was attracted to him, because that part she could handle. Indeed, it was rather pleasant being looked at with desire. But it was the other part that caused her unease. Every now and then, when he looked at her with those intense dark eyes, she had the feeling he could see her innermost thoughts, whereas he seemed to hold himself very much at a distance because he really didn’t approve.

The sooner he was gone the better.

She pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked the door to what had once been the nursery. Voices from an open door let her know where she would find Caro and her charges. She entered the day room. Caro faced the two women sitting at desks along with Thomas, Caro’s six-year-old son, writing his letters on a slate. The women each held a book. Beth was reading, slowly sounding out the words. She stopped the moment Merry entered.

Looking at the two women, one would never guess their original profession. Their faces shone with good health and cleanliness. They wore the modest practical clothing of the women who worked at the mills.

‘Good morning, ladies,’ Merry said smiling.

‘Good morning, Miss Draycott,’ they chorused.

‘Good morning,’ Caroline said. Her gaze held curiosity. Wondering about last night, no doubt.

‘If I could have your attention,’ Merry said, to the room at large. ‘Because of the snow, we have a guest at Draycott House. I gather you ladies met him this morning. I think it would be best if you remained in this wing until his departure.’

Beth giggled.

Jane frowned. ‘Ashamed of us, then, are you? Is that how it’s to be?’

Heat stung Merry’s cheeks. Jane was not the easiest woman to deal with, despite the fact that she’d sought out Caro’s help on her own account. Jane had come north from London and was far more worldly than Beth, or the other girls they had rescued. And she’d appointed herself as their leader. The other girls had fled after the fire—Jane and Beth were all that were left of the soiled doves they’d been trying to help.

‘I am not ashamed,’ Merry said firmly. ‘It is for your protection. I don’t know this gentleman very well and I do not want any misunderstanding.’

Jane curled her lips. ‘She wants to keep him all to herself, that’s what it is.’

‘Enough, Jane,’ Caro said.

Jane sniffed. ‘I don’t care about no fancy man. What I wants to know is when do we get a proper job, instead of cleaning your grates?’

In other words, was her meeting successful? The townspeople had called the house in town Draycott’s whorehouse and had thrown bricks and stones through the windows. Finally a torch had been thrown, starting a fire and forcing them to flee. The meeting yesterday had been supposed to bring the other mill owners over to her side.

The two women looked at her hopefully. ‘It’s bloody awful here,’ Jane said. ‘No shops. Nought to do ‘cept readin'.’

‘I like it,’ Beth said stoutly. She’d grown up in the country. Most of the other girls they’d rescued were town girls, daughters of shopkeepers and millworkers who had taken a wrong turn and been cast out on to the streets to make their way as best they could. All had turned to the oldest profession known to women.

When Caro, who had narrowly missed turning to the same calling out of desperation, had proposed Merry use her money and her influence to help some of these women, Merry had readily agreed. She hadn’t expected the resentment of the community. They seemed to believe the presence of these women would taint them and their families.

They’d driven the girls off.

She glanced over at Caro, who looked sad, but offered a supporting smile. ‘I wasn’t able to meet with them yesterday.’

Jane’s mouth turned sullen. ‘Too busy enjoying yerself with yer fancy man.’

‘He is a gentleman,’ Merry said. ‘He provided me assistance on the road and he will be leaving as soon as the snow is passable.’

‘Gentlemen are the best,’ Beth said, as if repeating a lesson by rote. ‘They’s polite and don’t have no pox.’

‘'Course they do,’ Jane said.

Caroline rapped on her desk with her ruler. ‘Ladies, please. This kind of talk is not helpful.’ She glanced at Thomas, who had stopped writing and was listening with a furrow between his fair brows. ‘Miss Draycott will find you work and a place to live as soon as she is able. In the meantime, you are being paid to learn to read and write.’

A groan from Beth made Merry smile.

None of the girls had found the concept of reading and writing particularly relevant. Only by offering them a wage had she been able to convince them to try when they’d moved into the house in Skepton. They’d been making great strides until forced to run for their lives. Caro insisted these two continue while they stayed with Merry. If nothing else, they would be able to read a newspaper and their employment contract before they signed it.

If they could find jobs.

‘What about the grocer’s in the High Street?’ Beth asked. Her father had owned a shop, but when he found out she was pregnant, he’d turned her out. The boy had run away to sea and left her to fend for herself. If she couldn’t support herself respectably, she would never get her child back from the orphanage. ‘He’s got a sign in the winder for a shop assistant.’

No one in Skepton seemed willing to risk employing Draycott’s whores, no matter how clean they were or how well behaved. The townspeople claimed they would be a bad influence on the men as well as the women.

Merry pressed her lips together. ‘I told him of your experience, but he said he’d changed his mind.’ She’d even threatened to stop purchasing from him, but then he told her his fear of the mob tearing his shop apart. What could she say?

Jane’s lip curled. ‘See. I told you it was all a farradiddle.’

‘They think we’ll steal them blind,’ Beth said.

It was an outbreak of burglaries that had turned the townspeople violent, even after Caro told the constable she could account for all her girls at the time of the crimes.

‘I’m leaving at the end of t’month,’ Jane said. ‘There’s good money to be made in London. Abbesses always looking for new blood. Once the weather breaks, I can walk there in a fortnight.’

‘How much does a girl make in Lunnon?’ Beth asked.

‘A fortune if you finds the right man,’ Jane said. ‘Dripping with jewels and furs, some of the girls are.’

Beth’s eyes grew round.

‘It is not quite like that,’ Caro said. ‘Very few girls meet that kind of man. And often they cast them off, the way they throw out old clothes.’

‘What would you know about it?’ Jane sneered.

Caroline coloured. ‘I have eyes.’

Merry didn’t care much for Jane. Gribble had found her slipping a silver teaspoon in her pocket. Caro had reminded her that she might have done the same, if she had been in Jane’s situation.

Damn it. If Merry didn’t do something soon, these two women would slip back into their old ways.