Regency Mistresses: A Practical Mistress / The Wanton Bride

‘You have sent me a contract to sign. I have every right to survey what I am buying.’

‘Perhaps; but you have no right to study my family. How my sisters live is my business and none of your concern.’ George sipped more sedately at his drink.

‘Is that right?’ Jason drawled. ‘I’ve recently been told that not only is their plight my concern, but my fault. What is it you really want to sell me, George? Your house or your sister?’

Chapter Five

‘That is an exceedingly strange thing to say. Am I to take it as a joke?’ George frowned in studied thoughtfulness.

‘If it were a joke, it would be in poor taste.’

‘I’ll take it as a joke, then,’ George drawled with heavy irony. ‘If I were to take it seriously, I should act as a good brother and defend Helen’s honour.’

‘How did you know to which sister I was referring?’ Jason’s teeth flashed in a silent laugh as George’s complexion became ruddy. ‘You’ve no need to answer.’ His tone was husky with mock sympathy. ‘Obviously I realise how you know, you sent Mrs Marlowe to see me.’

George snatched up his drink and took a swig before delivering a curt response. ‘That is another exceedingly strange thing to say, Hunter, and not at all funny. It appears you have no notion of what is good taste.’

‘It appears you have no notion of how to act as a good brother.’

George’s mouth thinned. ‘So you have this afternoon been talking to my sister Helen,’ he snapped. ‘What of it?’

‘You sent her to see me. Why?’

‘I did no such thing,’ George angrily refuted. ‘If you knew Helen better, you’d realise that she does as she pleases. A fine day it would be, and no mistake, if she followed my dictates.’ He barked a laugh. ‘If she did what I told her, she would by now be remarried.’

‘And thus no financial burden on you.’

‘Indeed,’ George retorted without shame or remorse.

‘I gather you were entrusted with the care of your sisters after Colonel Kingston died. Yet they seem to be fending, not very successfully, for themselves.’

‘I’ll not discuss any of my family’s private business with you!’ George thundered and slammed down his glass on a table that became beaded with brandy. ‘How my sisters go on is none of your concern.’

‘But you’d like to make it so. You’re wasting your time, Kingston. If you have a clear conscience over it, I don’t see why I should give a damn.’ Even as the callous words were uttered Jason flexed the hand that remembered her touch. A phantom caress from ebony hair was again on his skin and a faint redolence of lavender water teased his senses. He cursed beneath his breath as fingers curled about the brandy George had given him. The amber spirit reminded him of the same soulful-eyed woman. Abruptly he put down the drink and walked to the door, aiming a contemptuous stare at George as he passed him. He halted with a hand gripping the handle.

‘I’ve offered you a generous price for a property in need of extensive repair, and with tenants who are unwilling to leave.’

‘There is no need for you to fret over my sisters’ accommodation. I have already explained that I have made other arrangements for them.’

‘And the dilapidations? The house has obviously been neglected for many years.’

George’s mouth disappeared into a thin line. So that was what it was really all about! Money! Hunter had come to haggle over the price now he knew the condition of the property. George had expected to expediently conclude the sale confident that Jason would rely on a memory of Westlea House in its elegant heyday. ‘Are you about to renege on the deal? If you have named a price beyond your means, please say so….’

‘I think you know I have not,’ Jason enunciated very quietly.

George fiddled nervously with the lawn knot at his throat, for Jason’s icy grey gaze was unrelenting. He already regretted having resorted to using scorn. George knew, as did most people, that little was beyond this man’s means. The knowledge was galling, yet he was wily enough to know when to retreat. ‘Westlea House might now appear a little drab, but it is basically sound and will be grand again. When I have payment you will have vacant possession.’

‘You think that your sisters will accept being moved to Rowan Walk?’

George made an exasperated gesture. ‘I’ve had enough of this! You are being damned inquisitive and impertinent over matters that are not for discussion. You are not the only party interested in such a prime piece of property.’ Smugly he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Bridgeman has made an offer on it.’

‘But not at the figure I gave you. Nobody will match the sum, and you know it.’

George’s smirk collapsed—his bluff had been immediately trumped. Colin Bridgeman’s offer was far lower and George had been hoping nobody but he was aware of it.

George glowered at his adversary from beneath heavy lids. Hunter hadn’t come here simply to complain that Westlea House was rundown. What was bothering him, George was sure, was his meeting with Helen. A crafty smile was imminent, but it withered as Jason stepped purposefully back into the room.

‘Before I leave, it is timely to comment on some gossip whilst we are discussing family affairs. It seems your sister is under the impression that I am conducting an illicit relationship with your wife. She has heard a rumour, she said.’

George turned pale, but made no other indication that the subject affected him.

‘I’m sorry to have to speak so bluntly, but this matter needs to be addressed,’ Jason continued levelly. ‘Let me make absolutely clear that I have no romantic interest in your wife. You and Mrs Kingston must deplore the nonsense that is being bandied about to the contrary.’ Jason waited, but a rapid tic at the corner of George’s compressed lips was all the response he received.

‘There has been enough bad blood between us, George. I will not be falsely accused of a dalliance with your wife.’

George turned his back on his visitor. So! Helen had not minced her words with him. He now sensed that sly smile tug at his lips as he wondered whether she had gone so far as to demand he settle with Iris’s confounded modistes. ‘I’m surprised you think a mention needs to be made of it,’ he slung over a disdainfully elevated shoulder. ‘I never comment on pathetic concoctions doing the rounds. What I will say is that my eldest sister at times forgets her breeding. She can be far too outspoken and act outside her role. I shall not apologise for her impertinence, if that is what you hoped.’

‘You have no need to do so, Mrs Marlowe apologised on her own account.’

‘When was that? When she called on you or when you paid a visit to her?’

George’s tone held an insinuation that made Jason’s eyes narrow to stony slits.

‘I was otherwise engaged when your sister paid me a call. I was thus not able to speak to her until I surveyed the house.’

‘I’m sure you took a thorough look at it all.’

‘I always do when someone is too keen to sell me something.’

The threat George saw in Jason’s countenance made him reconsider riling him further. He simply asked innocently, ‘Are we to renegotiate the price because of the dilapidations you saw or the insults you heard?’

‘I’ll honour the sum first agreed on one condition: you find decent accommodation for your sisters.’

George examined his fingernails. ‘What’s it to you where they live?’

Indeed, Jason wryly thought, what was it to him? But the memory of Helen Marlowe’s fragility cocooned by a threadbare dress was again in his mind. Despite her ugly clothing and unbound hair, despite her furious embarrassment when telling him she was to be sent to live on Rowan Walk, she had exuded a quiet pride … a stubborn grace. He recalled the feverish flush he had more than once brought to liven her marble-white complexion. There was meagre satisfaction in knowing that by discomfiting her he had momentarily kept her warm.

Helen Marlowe was neglected because her brother was weak and selfish and unable to control the grasping harlot he had married.

Jason wondered how Iris Kingston would like living in a freezing house, clothed in faded cotton. He wondered how she would withstand feeling hungry, for Helen had looked as though little nourishment passed her lips. He felt tempted to sneeringly voice his thoughts to her inept guardian. Instead he bit out glacially, ‘I’ll not have people think I’m in any way involved in putting two gentlewomen on Rowan Walk.’

‘In case it’s imagined you have a … shall we say, special interest in one of them? Both of them?’

Jason allowed that sneer to curl his lip. ‘I’ve never yet housed a paramour so poorly. The fact that you would consider settling your sisters in such surroundings disgusts me.’

‘I’m sure you know that your opinion of me counts for nought.’

Jason smiled his contempt on turning away. ‘I’ll let you get to your dinner … and your lady wife.’ In the corridor he halted to say, ‘Mrs Marlowe was alone when I visited. I didn’t see your younger sister Charlotte. How old is she now?’