A Perfect Mistress (3 page)

And
Mr. Henry
was
attractive.

Reluctantly
,
Sophie
admitted to herself that she found Mr.
Henry’s person compelling.
He was tall and well built, his
dark
hair flopped over his forehead so endearingly that she had nearly reached to push it back
more than once
, and
the
eye that
wasn’t
covered up with a patch was good-natured and kind. She could see it in him
, behind the gruffness
.
He was
fun, too, when he
wasn’t
being so serious
, and she wished she’d met him before his accident
. Sophie thought that she could see pain in his face, and not just physical pain. Someone had hurt him, and very badly. Why else would a handsome man come all this way to find a mistress? Were the women in Geddes blind, deaf, and dumb?

She
didn’t
mind his scar and the eye
patch; it made him look quite dashing, she thought. Added a
hint of danger to him, and somehow that made him even more appealing.

Was she really considering this? Was she really thinking about going off with a strange man to his
far away
home and be
coming
his mistress?
Perhaps her father was right and she was a strumpet, just like Delia
.

What if Mr. Henry
was like
him
?
A voice in her head murmured to her, and
Sophie pushed the memories away firmly. They
haunted her in the night
, those memories,
and she
often dreamed about the things
that had happened to her,
but she would not
let them haunt her during the daytime, too.
 

No matter how kind he looks, she told herself,
not
all
men
c
an
be trusted.  Even the ones who seem kind can turn out to be monsters, and s
he had found that out, much to her sorrow.
She must make sure that he was completely trustworthy if she agreed to his proposal.
But
just how was she going to do that?

Sophie
sat down and
fell backward onto the
rough bed with a sigh.
She felt muscles relax that she had not known
were tensed
. 
She’d
think about all this tomorrow, she thought resolutely.
There was no solution to be found tonight, so best just to leave it.
Her days
began early, and she was
more
tired
even than usual
so s
he had better go to sleep. 
No telling when Delia would wake her, especially
since
she’d
not been out of her room
since her nap
, even to bring the tray down. She might decide in the middle of the night that she wanted it out, right now, and ring the bell for Sophie to come get it
.

Sophie’s
eyes drifted c
losed and a yawn split her face, and she rolled over to cuddle her flat pillow. The last thought she had just before sleep claimed her was the way
her heart had pounded in her chest
when Mr. Henry clasped her hand in his.

******

Sophie
tilted her head back and let
the wind blow across her face.
Her
ragged
bonnet dangled by its strings down her back, and she
thought absently that she should put it back on before she freckled, but it was only a moment
’
s thought. It went right out of her head when the gig hit a bump and bounced her
all over the seat, making her grasp Mr. Henry’s arm with a gasp.
Her knee pressed against his, and he turned his head to smile at her, teeth flashing whitely in his tanned face.

“
Am I going too fast?”
he asked.  “I know you are getting
bumped around a bit
.”

“N
o, don’t
!” she cried out, laughing. “
This is too much
fun!” Tendrils of her hair
slipped out of the tight bun and blew
around her face, and
Jackson
felt
desire hit the pit of his stomach with the force of a blow
. “I’m so glad you rented the gig and took us for a ride in the country. I haven’t been out of the city in ages.”

S
ophie
slipped sideways on the seat
when the gig hit another rut in the terrible road
,
laughing.
Jackson
stared at her
greedily and slowed the horses despite her pleas.
He
couldn’t
take his eyes from her; they’d met every day
at the same time
for a week, and each time he saw her it seemed that she was more beautiful.
Her face had a healthy pink flush, and she seemed vibrantly alive
and
far from the sad, downtrodden
woman
he’d first met.
Wherever they went, men stared at her. Sophie never seemed to notice, and Jackson thought that a good sign. She
wouldn’t
make a very good mistress if she was always preening under other men’s gazes and looking for their approval. He wanted her to notice only him.

He
didn’t
know what she was doing with him; did she want to be his mistress, or had she just been so starved for company that anyone would do?
Sophie smiled at him often, and she touched him just as much. He
couldn’t
count the number of times her shy fingers had crept onto his sleeve or squeezed his hand and each time it happened, he felt a little thrill go up his spine.
Did she really want him, or was she playing some sort of woman’s game? Until the accident,
he’d
had no lack of female companionship, but women were ever a mystery. More than once, come-hither eyes and flirtatious ways had turned into
no ring, no loving
.

Since that first day in the park,
he’d
never mentioned mistresses or leaving St. Louis again, and she’d never brought it up, either. He wanted to
ask her, he ached to ask her, the question trembled on the edge of his tongue a dozen times when he was in her company
– oh, he wanted so many things
when he was with her
. He wanted her to touch more than his hand. He wanted her naked in his bed, her hair spread over the pillow and her face twisted in ecstasy.

He wanted Sophie
to go home with him.

He missed the farm, and he missed his house. As empty and hollow as it had see
med sometimes,
it was his home. He belonged there. He ached to ride the land and survey what was his, and he wanted Sophie beside him when he did it.
Soon, h
e was going to have to ask her what she intended to do and run the risk of scaring her off.
H
e was running out of time. The farm needed his attention, and h
e
couldn’t
be away much longer.

“There’s an inn right up ahead that sells a wonderful picnic basket,” he said abruptly.
It was time to throw off this indecision.
He’d
ask her over
lunch
, while they were alone.

“That sounds lovely.”

Sophie smiled at him, and his heart turned over in his chest. She was so beautiful.

The public room of the inn was bustling and noisy, and Jackson held Sophie’s arm protectively as he guided her through the crowd.
Sophie looked around dubiously.  Rough tables were crowded in together, and the clientele was many and varied.  Farmers and tradesmen sat cheek-to-jowl with finely dressed
ladies
and gentlemen. 

“The food is good
here,
and reasonably priced,” Jackson said in her ear. “It’s close to the city, and right on the main road. I stop here every time I’m through this way, and I’ve never had a bad meal.”

Jackson led her to the crowded bar, and a harried woman took their order. T
hey stood at the
counter to wait, Jackson
drinking a glass of beer and Sophie
lemonade
.
They
were jostled
several times, but
Jackson frowned at each interloper so fi
ercely that they all backed off with quick apologies.
Sophie
was unruffled, however.

“It’s all right, sir,” she told one older
gentleman
as she moved
in closer to Jackson to give the man
more room
. “It’s hardly your fault that the room is so crowded.” The man bobbed his head and smiled back, revealing his lone tooth. The old man took a big swig from his beer glass, leaving foam on his face that he
didn’t
bother to
wipe off, but Sophie didn’t seem to mind; she chatted with him gaily until he finished his glass and took his leave.

The man who took his place looked like troub
le, and Jackson picked up his glass and rested
an
elbow on the counter, eyeing him grimly. The man was tall and handsome, and
he swaggered up to the counter as he came in, calling loudly for service
. He was dressed fashionably; in Jackson’s opinion, he looked like a fool, but perhaps
ladies
liked that kind of thing. Jackson
idly considered having such an outfit made up, then
laughed silently to himself; he’d be the laughingstock of the county if he showed up in Geddes in that rig. Where he
was from
, clothing was meant to be practical as well as attractive, and
he’d
look a right idiot trying to plow fields in that.

The harried woman appeared and handed the man a glass of beer, then disappeared into the kitchens again. The man turned and leaned back against the counter. His eyes raked Sophie up and down, greedily running over her person and lingering on her neckline. Jackson bristled.

“Precious,” he said softly, leaning in closer. “May I buy you another glass of lemonade? Even better, join me at a table and I will buy us a meal fit for a king. This inn may not look like much, but they lay an excellent table. The food is exquisite, and it will be made even better by your company.”

Jackson straightened slowly, his eyes narrowing. He sat his beer down with a clank.
Sophie moved closer to
him
yet again, until she was nearly against his chest. The man paid Jackson absolutely no heed – perhaps he considered him of no account.

He was about to be disabused of that notion.
Couldn’t
he see that Sophie was not interested, or did he just not care?

“The lady isn’t interested,” he said gruffly.

The man’s eyes rose from Sophie’s bosom to survey Jackson. He
didn’t
seem alarmed. He laughed lightly, his face amused.

“Lady?
Is the
lady
with you? If so, I question her judgment…and her taste in men.” He turned his eyes back to Sophie. “Sweetheart, you would do better to join me at that table. “

Sophie stared at him coldly, looking him up and down without saying a word. She moved closer to Jackson yet again, and his arm went around her.

“Like that, is it?” the man asked.

“Are you deaf, sir?” Jackson demanded, turning fully to face the dandy. “The lady is with me, and
she deserves to be treated with respect. Apologize.”

The dandy gave a short laugh. He sketched a light, mocking bow in Sophie’s direction, a smile on his lips. Jackson’s fist curled at his sides, and the dandy noticed, his eyebrows rising. Sophie clutched Jackson’s arm to keep him in place, and the man lifted his glass in a sardonic salute.

“If you insist,” he said mildly. “I still say she would have a much better time in my company, but perhaps I misjudge the situation. I apologize most sincerely, lady, and beg your pardon.” He swiveled his eyes back to Jackson.
“That good enough for you, sir?”

“It will be enough when you pay for your drink and leave the premises,” he said
coldly
. “Don’t distress the lady any further with your presence.”

The man slammed a coin on the counter and jammed his hat back on his head. “I’ll just resume my tedious journey and bid you a good day
then
,” he said.