Practical Widow to Passionate Mistress (Transformation of the Shelley Sisters 1)

Meg fell back on common sense. ‘You already have a housekeeper at your home, surely.’

‘The Court is not my home, it is the place where I must live,’ he said bleakly. ‘And the housekeeper in residence will leave, today, with a good pension. With you, or without you, I won’t have that sour-faced harridan in the house. My mother was intimidated by her, I imagine my father hardly cared, provided the place was run efficiently, but I’ll not have her brooding like a black spider below stairs.’

‘And your father’s valet?’

Meg kept talking, anything rather than face the dilemma before her. Could she live in the same house, even for a few weeks, knowing what it was to be in Ross’s arms? She would feel that hard, angry mouth on hers every time she looked at him. But if it were a means to an end, if it would give her the financial security to search for her sisters, then perhaps it would be worth the longing and the struggle to keep her feelings to herself.

‘He is an elderly man. I will pension him off too. If he wants one of the estate cottages, then he’s welcome to one.’

‘I cannot stay for long, you know that. I must find Bella and Lina.’ She picked up her reticule. ‘I should go back to the agency, explain that we decided mutually that I would not suit.’

‘I can give you a secure place and a salary that would allow you to employ a Bow Street Runner to send after your sisters.’ Ross propped one foot on the fender of the empty grate and laid his arm along the mantelshelf, not looking at her. ‘He could start at once, travel faster than a lone woman, follow them if they have moved away. You are out of touch with England. You need help to search.’

Meg put down her reticule again and stared at his bleak profile. Bella, Lina…And she could send a man at once, if Ross would advance her salary. When the Runner found them she could go to them just as soon as she had paid Ross back, or they could come to her. But it would mean staying with Ross, close to all that temptation and attraction, even if it was only for a month or two.

‘Thirty pounds, all found,’ Ross said, still without looking at her.

It was an excellent wage for a housekeeper, and they both knew it. With that wage she could easily afford to send a superior investigator to track down her sisters, one she could rely upon to search diligently and to preserve confidentiality. Ross had chosen a figure that would tempt her, not named the going rate for the position. But she would work for the money, earn it. It was not like taking a gift.

‘I accept the position. As your housekeeper, nothing else. And only for as long as it takes to find them.’ Then a thought struck her. ‘Can you afford it?’

Ross did look at her then, his face showing a hauteur that convinced her that he was, indeed, a baron. ‘Yes,’ he said baldly.

‘Pensions for two long-serving, senior members of staff. An overpaid housekeeper, a new valet. Your wardrobe to replenish…’

‘I shall expect you to economise: tallow candles, pease pudding on a regular basis, darn the sheets, set the gardener to dig up the rose beds for vegetables.’

‘Very well.’ How serious he was she could not tell. But economy was something she knew about, she had had enough practice. At the vicarage waste and excess were mortal sins. And when she was married she found that James had not calculated the cost of keeping a wife on a lieutenant’s pay. It did not occur to him to give up his old bachelor lifestyle of gambling, drinking and keeping a string of horses. Nothing could be cut, James insisted—he was sure his clever Meg would contrive. And contrive she had.

‘How large is the Court?’ She tried to think ahead.

‘The old house is very small—’ Ross broke off as the waiter came in with food, Perrott on his heels.

Well, that was a relief. Meg moved away from the table to let the man set out dishes while Ross took the valet aside, presumably to agree terms. It was foolish of her to have imagined that just because there was a title the family must own some vast mansion. He was not an earl or a marquis. A small house might even explain Ross’s decision to run away from home—living at close quarters with a father he was at odds with would be intolerable for any spirited seventeen-year-old lad.

‘We will eat and then leave immediately. I have hired a chaise; we can get the luggage on behind.’

‘My lord…’ Perrott waited until Meg and Ross had both sat down before taking his own seat. ‘Might we not stop at the linen drapers on our way through the town? I think—’

‘No.’ The young valet shut his mouth with a snap. Ross waved a hand at the platters. ‘Eat. You are not dragging me round shops, Perrott. You and Mrs Halgate can make lists to your hearts’ content, but not if it requires my active participation.’

Effectively snubbed, Perrott retreated into the silent consumption of a large lunch. Meg pecked at her food, her pulse still uneven, her thoughts tumbling. Could

that big, abrupt man who was silently demolishing a chicken-and-ham pie with the air of someone half-starved for a week be the same person who had just kissed her with near-violent desperation? And was he the same man who had inflicted such inventive and whimsically shocking punishment on the two men who had tried to assault her?

And why, when she should be fleeing from him, had she accepted a temporary position as his housekeeper when she knew he was simply waiting for her to weaken and come to his bed?

For the money and the chance to rebuild her family it promised, of course. But also, she feared, because she wanted him more than prudence or sense. Wanted him although he had spoken no words of love—words she knew would be lies. Meg made herself eat some ham and told herself it was the money and she was a romantic girl no longer.

‘If you have finished shredding that unfortunate slice of ham, Mrs Halgate, we can be on our way.’

‘My lord.’ Meg put down her cutlery and made herself smile. Had the wretched man no sensibility at all? He must realise how she felt after what had happened between them in this parlour, surely? Then she saw his eyes and realised that he was focused on something long ago. His haste to get to the Court was like the urgency of some men to get into battle when at least the waiting would be over and they could finally face their nightmares. Even when they knew the nightmares would come true.

‘Let us go and supervise the luggage being loaded, Per…Mr Perrott.’ She must remember that they were both upper servants now and he was entitled to his title from her. How many other indoor servants would there be? A cook, a housemaid, a scullery maid and a footman or two, she supposed. A butler of course. Not so very bad, provided the cook and the butler, were congenial, for they would be her equals in this strange new world.

The journey was pleasant, the scenery, after Spain and the Pyrenees, lush, green and achingly English. The hedges were filled with flowers, the fields with fat cattle. After a few miles they crossed the River Fal by ferry. The horses were apparently used to this alarming experience and walked steadily on to the low deck for the crossing, and Meg was fascinated by the steep wooded banks tumbling down to the wide river, the mysterious way it wound its course out of sight. Then there was rolling country, small fields, high hedge banks and occasional glimpses of sea. The names seemed alien, as though they were in another country. But it was beautiful, even through the eyes of someone fighting against nerves.

Bella would be perfect as a housekeeper—practical, calm and with a natural authority that overcame every kitchen squabble or difficult tradesman. But Meg had learned her own housekeeping in circumstances far distant from an English country house. Her expertise was limited to life in a tent, an abandoned building or the occasional luxury of a billet in whichever town they found themselves in. She would just have to pretend she was Arabella and bluff it out for as long as she was there. It would not be long enough to do any damage, she reflected. Or at least, not damage to Ross’s household. She was not so certain about the price it would exact from her.