Juliet Landon

Marrying the Mistress


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heard enough. No obligation, you say, when I was well and truly shared, wasn’t I? You even paid for me. How do you expect me to feel about that, my lord? Grateful? Flattered? Slightly bewildered? Who exactly have I belonged to all these years, I wonder? All neatly contrived to live as the mistress of one twin whilst bearing the other one’s child. Someone should write a play about it, shouldn’t they? What a comedy!’ Clutching the pill box, I strode past him, but was held back and swung round by his hand beneath my arm.

      ‘Come back, Helene. You can’t walk off in the middle of a discussion.’

      ‘I’m not in the middle of it,’ I snarled at him, pulling my arm away. ‘And you can keep the other things I came for, since you probably paid for them too.’

      ‘Listen to me, woman,’ he growled, preventing my escape with his great bulk, legs apart, a black silhouette against the light. ‘You’re blinded by your anger because what Brierley told you was not what you expected. But be reasonable, will you? You want to continue living on Blake Street and you want the funds to maintain it properly, to give Jamie the stability he needs. And now when I tell you that’s exactly what you can do, you fly off the handle and say it’s not what you want. Well, make your mind up, but try to think what’s best for Jamie instead of getting all hoity-toity about it. Does it matter who the house belongs to as long as you can both live there? Who else should pay the bills except me, I ask you? His guardian. Come down off your high horse for a moment. You’ll have all you need.’

      ‘What I need, my lord, is control of my life, for once. Control of Jamie’s life, too. And that is still being denied me.’

      ‘Then try being realistic. Sons remain in the control of their fathers or guardians and there’s nothing you can do about that. You must have known as much. So, if you want to stay with him, you will have to accept the same constraints and try to regard them as benefits. Which they are. Linas knew that, and his will reflects it.’

      ‘Is that so? Even to a ban on my marriage.’

      ‘What marriage?’

      I shrugged. ‘Well, to a future husband, of course. Who else?’

      ‘Do you have a candidate in mind for the position?’

      ‘It would make no difference if I did. I stand to lose my son if I do.’

      ‘Nonsense. You wouldn’t lose him. He’d be with me.’

      ‘That’s the same thing, isn’t it?’

      ‘No. You know full well it isn’t.’

      There was something in his voice which I could not identify, but which I preferred not to enquire into too closely. Far from simplifying matters, our discussion had taken me further into obligations I would rather not have had, for while the crisis over costs appeared to have a solution, the acceptance of it for little Jamie’s sake was not at all to my liking.

      ‘Just the same,’ I said, ‘it’s a risk I’m not prepared to take.’

      ‘A risk? Is that how you see it? As risk? What on earth do you think I might do to the little chap?’

      The risk, of course, was not about what he might do but what he might not do, namely to protect my son from the kind of racy lifestyle enjoyed by the Abbots Mere set, the foolish irresponsible blades and the Lady Slatterlys of society. She, for one, would enjoy finding my Achilles’ heel in Jamie and, having found it, would twist the dart till it hurt. I was certain of it.

      ‘The kind of life you lead is quite different from the one he’s been used to with Linas and me,’ I said, turning away. ‘And you are not used to children.’

      ‘I’m willing to learn. And he has a nurse. Anyway, you take him to see Medworth’s family and to play with the animals there. He can do the same at Abbots Mere, and more. He’ll have his own room, a pony to ride…’

      ‘He’s too young for that,’ I objected, weakly.

      ‘Of course he’s not!’ he scoffed. ‘I learned to ride at three.’

      ‘The question doesn’t arise. Jamie will stay with me. A child of three needs his mother.’ I hoped he would hear the finality in my tone.

      ‘Nevertheless, Miss Follet, I think you will have to accept that Jamie will want to visit me, and that I shall want to see him. Often.’

      ‘I have to, don’t I? Perhaps one day a week, or alternate—’

      ‘No. My work doesn’t run like clockwork. I have a large estate, and I do things as and when they need doing. When I send for Jamie I shall expect him to come, and that will vary from week to week. I shall also expect him to stay, sometimes. You too, if you wish. I shall have rooms put aside for your personal use.’

      Alarm bells rang. ‘For my personal use. How thoughtful. So tell me, my lord, what kind of signal that will send to family and friends? Will your current mistress vacate her rooms for my benefit? Shall I be seen as the newest member of the harem? It could get quite cosy.’

      He didn’t react, this time, as he’d done before, but looked down his straight nose at me with his eyes narrowed, his mouth beginning to lift at the corners. ‘So…o, that’s what’s bothering you, is it? Ah, I see.’

      Suddenly I was having to defend myself to him in a way I’d never had to do for years. Linas seemed so very far away, which was good, for I did not want him to hear this conversation. ‘Yes,’ I snapped, heading for the door, ‘that is what’s bothering me. How could you be so insensitive as to think I would ever agree to stay there after…’ My cheeks flamed. Why had I brought that up now, of all times?

      I stalked off into the room next door that I had always used, scarcely more inviting than Linas’s, especially in the cold blue light of winter. ‘You must know,’ I mumbled, ‘that for me to be seen as one of the Abbots Mere crowd is the last thing I ever wanted, even when Linas was with me.’ I started to rummage. ‘I have a few things to look for. Treddle said he’d send them on, but if you’d rather I left them, I shall quite understand.’

      He caught up with me and perched on my delicate stool with the petit-point cushion, his greatcoat swamping it, his long booted legs looking very out of place in a lady’s bedroom. I glared at him, bristling with hostility.

      He held my glare with those supercilious brown eyes. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘You wish me to hell. But some matters have to be tackled head on, and we’re going to have this out whether it embarrasses you or not. You must have learned by now that you’ve met your match, Miss Follet.’

      What I had learned was that Linas and his brother were even less alike than I thought, one refusing point-blank to discuss the future, even mine or his son’s, the other one impatient to settle every detail. One, a prevaricator with no future to see into, the other with bountiful years ahead. Linas must have thought my future would take care of itself. I was not his wife. Why should he bother?

      ‘Shall we postpone the debate about whether or not I have met my match, my lord? If you’re asking whether I ever felt a certain imbalance in my relationship with your brother, then, yes, I cannot deny that. It could hardly be otherwise, could it, with Linas unable to see far ahead. Happily, I can see far enough for myself, so I shall not go hungry. You must tell me how to apply for Jamie’s allowance each month, and perhaps arrange for Mr Brierley to make it available. I shall keep every receipt, naturally. I pride myself on being able to keep my own accounts.’ It was immodest of me, but I thought he may as well know.

      ‘Mother. Mistress. Businesswoman. Is there anything at which you are not proficient, Miss Follet?’

      ‘Yes, I am not a good liar, my lord. The other day you were kind enough to remind me that your high-minded act of self-sacrifice was entirely for Linas’s benefit, not mine. So I would be lying if I failed to point out, in case you should misunderstand, that I thought only of him too. I wonder you did not hear me call out his name, once or twice.’

      ‘We