The Perfect Mistress (18 page)

“Yet, there is something about him.”

“Yes, there is.” She drew her brows together. “What is going to happen next?”

“Goodness, how would I know?”

“Well, I assumed—”

“I’m dead, darling, which does not mean I can see into the future.” She sniffed. “I do not do parlor tricks and I do not tell fortunes.”

“Pity.”

“You cannot imagine my own disappointment. One would have thought death would bestow substantially greater benefits as so much has been lost. I do manage to see a great deal of what is currently happening but not everything. And I cannot say what will happen. Still”—she grinned—“I can try. Nothing ventured, you know.” She tilted her head up, closed her eyes, stretched her arms out, palms facing toward the heavens.

Julia choked back a laugh. “You look ridiculous. What are you doing?”

“Trying to see into the future as you requested.”

“I did no such thing.” Julia crossed her arms over her chest and watched in amusement. “Are you seeing anything?”

“One moment, if you please. These things take time. Ah, yes.” Her brow furrowed. “I see … I see …”

Julia laughed. “What do you see?”

“You are going from famine to feast, my dear. In addition to Harrison and Benjamin, there will soon be one more gentleman on your doorstep.”

“I thought you couldn’t see into the future.”

“I can’t.” She dropped her arms and opened her eyes. “There is a gentleman coming up your front walk.”

Julia’s eyes widened. “Now?”

“This very moment.” She glanced at the clock. “And I must be off. Other matters to attend to.”

“What other matters?”

“You’d be surprised.” She laughed and vanished.

“That’s most unnerving, you know,” Julia called, addressing nothing but air. “I do hope you don’t plan to make a habit of this.”

Hermione’s laughter lingered in the room. A knock sounded at the door and Julia jumped.

“Yes?”

Daniels opened the door and glanced around as if looking for someone. She sighed. Good Lord, her servants were soon going to think she was as mad as everyone had thought her grandmother to be.

“A Mr. Ellsworth is here, my lady,” Daniels said in his usual cool manner.

“Mr. Ellsworth?” Her brows rose in surprise. “Show him in.”

“Yes, my lady.” Daniels glanced around once again.

“And you had best have someone set some traps,” she said weakly. “The mice, you know.”

“Yes, my lady, at once.”

A moment later he showed Mr. Ellsworth into the parlor.

“Good day, Lady Winterset.” The author strode across the room to take her hands in his. “How delightful it is to see you again.”

He was unquestionably most attractive with a slight gleam of delightful wickedness in his hazel eyes. Add to that his potent air of confidence and she could understand why the celebrated author was as well known for his amorous adventures as he was for his literary endeavors.

“It’s nice to see you too, Mr. Ellsworth. And most surprising.” She pulled her hands from his.

He raised a brow. “Too much?”

She smiled. “Entirely too much.”

“My apologies.” He grinned. “I could not resist.”

“Well, do try your best,” she said wryly.

He chuckled. “It will be difficult.”

She stepped away and chose to sit on a chair then gestured at the sofa. “Please sit down and tell me why you’re here.”

“Why, I wish to further the acquaintance of a beautiful woman, of course.” He sat on the end of the sofa closest to her chair and leaned forward. “And you are quite lovely, Lady Winterset.”

“And you are entirely too charming. Furthermore, I don’t believe you for a moment.”

“Really?” He chuckled. “Most women do.”

“I am not most women,” she said primly.

“Exactly why you are so appealing.”

Despite his forward, most improper manner, or perhaps because of it, there was something undeniably charming about the man and she smiled in spite of herself. “Why are you here, Mr. Ellsworth?”

“Do I need a reason? It’s not enough that you have captured my heart?”

She laughed. “What utter nonsense. Although I do say you live up to your reputation.”

He grinned. “It is well earned.”

“I have no doubt of that. But I seriously doubt, on the basis of a few words at dinner, that I have captured your heart.”

“A heart has been captured by far less.”

“Not mine and I doubt yours either,” she said firmly. “Furthermore, I have no desire to become one of your string of conquests.”

He winced. “That’s rather harsh.”

“I daresay it’s not harsh enough.” She considered him curiously. “Now, do tell me. To what do I owe this visit?”

“I have something of a proposition for you.”

“Oh?”

“Not that kind of proposition, although …”

“Go on,” she said coolly.

“Very well.” His expression sobered. “What I am proposing is a partnership of sorts. I would like to purchase Lady Middlebury’s memoirs and incorporate them into a book of my own.”

She shook her head in confusion. “You want to do what?”

“I want to use excerpts from the memoirs verbatim, then expand on them. Turn them into fiction, as it were.” He leaned toward her in an eager manner. “I want to combine her true exploits—”

“She calls them adventures,” Julia said under her breath.

“Even better. I envision taking her adventures then adding dialogue, setting, and so forth to make them come alive to the reader.” His brow furrowed in thought. “We can call it
The True Adventures of a Lady of Pleasure
—”

Her brows rose. “A lady of pleasure?”

“It does need a good title,” he said. “Something to grab the reading public’s attention.”

“My great-grandmother entitled it
The Perfect Mistress
.”

“
The Perfect Mistress?
” He thought for a moment then nodded. “Yes, I like that. Very well then. We could call it
The Perfect Mistress: The True Adventures of Lady Mid-dlebury in Her Own Words and As Told by John Edding-ton Ellsworth
.”

“That’s rather long, isn’t it?”

He scoffed. “Not in the least.”

She considered the idea. It was not bad, not bad at all.

“Think of it, Lady Winterset. With your ancestor’s scandalous tales and my literary prowess, this book could be my most successful to date.” He smiled in a less than humble manner. “And I have had some impressive successes.”

“Indeed you have, Mr. Ellsworth. But do answer one question.”

“Anything.”

“If I am to sell you the memoirs and you are to write the book”—she cast him a pleasant smile—“where is the partnership?”

“Oh.” He stared at her. “Perhaps I misspoke.”

“Or perhaps you intended to offer a percentage of the royalties from sales, in addition to the payment to purchase the memoirs, and simply forgot to mention it.”

“Yes.” He nodded slowly. “That must be it.”

“I thought as much.” She beamed at him. “Now then, did you have a figure in mind? For the memoirs themselves?”

He nodded, produced an envelope, and presented it with a flourish. She sighed to herself. This must be how men do business. Once more, she opened an envelope and studied the figure written. It was quite generous and quite familiar, matching the offer from Harrison. Although selling to Harrison meant the memoirs would ultimately be destroyed whereas with Mr. Ellsworth’s proposal they would live on, at least in some form.

“Quite generous, Mr. Ellsworth.” She eyed him thoughtfully, “You must be very certain as to the success of this proposal.”

“Oh, I am, I am indeed.” Confidence rang in the man’s voice.

“Very well then,” She nodded and stood. At once he jumped to his feet. “I shall certainly give your proposal serious consideration.”

He stared in disbelief. “Serious consideration? Is that all?”

She nodded. “Very serious consideration.”

“You do realize that I am considered a most successful author?”

“Of course.”

“One of the most popular writing in England today?”

She stifled a smile. “I realize that as well.”

“And what I am offering is very nearly certain success?”

“I do recall you saying that one never knows how a work will be received.”

“Well, yes, but …” He stared at her for a long moment. “My apologies, Lady Winterset, I believe I have not given you the credit due you.”

“In what way, Mr. Ellsworth?”

“I assumed you would jump at the opportunity I presented you.”

“Did you?” She shook her head. “Oh dear, I do so hate to disappoint.”

His gaze narrowed. “You are not swayed by my celebrity?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Nor impressed with my past success?”

“Even though it is most impressive.” She shrugged. “No.”

“And you seem to be immune to my considerable charm as well.”

“Surely I’m not the first?”

He choked.

“Well, perhaps I am.” She tried and failed to hold back a grin. “Although I do find you most amusing.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose,” he muttered. “I warn you, Lady Winterset, I do not take rejection well. I intend to pursue this.”

“I did agree to consider your proposal.” She walked to the parlor door and opened it.

“Yes, that too.” He started to leave then turned back. “You are a most unusual woman.”

“And just today I was called remarkable as well.” And hadn’t Harrison called her compelling and irresistible? She’d been too irritated to heed his words at the time. Now, she couldn’t help but wonder what they meant and why he had said them.

“Indeed you are.” A grudging smile spread across his face. “It’s not very often that I meet a woman who is not impressed by my fame.”

“Then this is a new experience for you.”

He laughed. “And not one I wish to repeat. However you …” He drew a deep breath. “Lady Tennwright is having one of her salons two days from now. I am the guest of honor and I would be honored if you would accompany me.”

“That would be most improper. However …” She smiled. “I would be delighted to attend and I shall see you there.”

His expression brightened. “That will do nicely. We can continue to discuss the disposition of the memoirs and why you are not swept away by my charm and wit and celebrity.”

“Oh, that does sound like fun.” She smiled. “Might I bring along a friend?”

He raised a suspicious brow. “A gentleman friend?”

“I was thinking Lady Redwell might enjoy accompanying me. She sat next to you at dinner.”

“Lady Redwell?” Recognition crossed his face and he smiled. “Ah yes, delightful lady. Oh, do bring her.”

“Because she is appropriately impressed with you?”

“Well, yes.” He grinned in a most immodest manner. “I shall need some adoration to renew my flagging spirits.”

“I doubt that your spirits will flag for long.” She cast him a pleasant but dismissive smile. “Good day, Mr. Ellsworth.”

“Good day, Lady Winterset.” He studied her for another moment then nodded and took his leave.

She closed the door behind him then leaned back against it and blew a long breath.

“Well, what do you think of that?” she said aloud and waited. There was no response. “Never a ghost around when you need one.” Again, there was no response save silence.

She pushed away from the door and resumed pacing where she had left off. Now she had three offers for the memoirs. Benjamin’s, which was very much a risk but could provide a source of income for years. Harrison’s and Mr. Ellsworth’s, both of which were equal in initial payment but Mr. Ellsworth’s offered long-term income as well. Fortunately, there was no need to make a rash decision. Very soon, she would no longer have the expenses of her grandmother’s cottage, which would ease her financial strain and allow her more time to decide which offer to accept.

It was an interesting dilemma. Of the three, Benjamin struck her as the most trustworthy. Mr. Ellsworth produced no doubts whatsoever. She was absolutely certain she couldn’t trust him. As for Harrison, as much as she wished to trust him she wasn’t at all sure she could.

Which only made her wonder why she wanted to.

“More tea, my lord?” Celeste Waverly smiled in what Harrison assumed was supposed to be a most beguiling manner. And indeed it might well have been most beguiling if it had not seemed so well practiced.

“Yes, thank you.”

He had come to call on Miss Waverly this afternoon as a first step toward making her his wife. As much as she encompassed all his requirements, it still seemed wise to get to know the young woman before declaring his intentions. After all, they would be together for the rest of their days.

It was the appropriate time of day to pay such a call and as was proper, they were not alone. Miss Waverly’s mother sat on the other side of the parlor appearing to be engrossed by her embroidery although Harrison was certain she was listening to every word.

“Lovely weather for this time of year. Don’t you agree, my lord?” Miss Waverly said brightly.

“I do indeed.” He nodded. “Do you like autumn, Miss Waverly?”

“Well.” She paused to consider the question and an annoying voice in the back of his head questioned why she needed to consider something so simple. “I like that the weather is cooler and that soon it will be winter. And I shall be able to wear all sorts of lovely furs. I do like furs. Then of course Christmas will be upon us and there will be any number of balls and entertainments. Do you like to dance, my lord?”

“Yes, I do.” He nodded. “I make an appearance at those events that I am obligated to attend although I admit I do not attend many balls.”

“Oh, but you should.” Her lovely blue eyes widened. “There is nothing I enjoy more than a grand ball. The dresses and the music and the excitement. Why, last spring, my own coming out ball was …”

Miss Waverly continued chatting about parties and gowns and her friends and Harrison smiled and nodded and added an appropriate comment whenever she took a breath. He resisted the urge to drum his fingers impatiently on the arm of the sofa and wondered why he had been nervous about approaching her house today.

Certainly, he had never called on a young lady before. He had never met anyone he wished to call on. Besides, he considered it inappropriate to do so unless his intentions were of a permanent nature.