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He would wish to marry soon—if he were not married already. Her stomach jolted. She had not considered that possibility. But it was a possibility nonetheless.
    She smiled warmly. “I am sure Miss Blythe would have had my best interests at heart,” she said.
    “You will come, then?” he asked.
    She had no choice, of course. She conceded that point without even stopping to consider further. She knew that she had no choice even though Sir Gerald would not force her to go, and Miss Blythe would certainly not do so. He had asked her to go with him, to be his mistress, and she knew herself quite powerless to resist. There was no point in going through the pretense of thinking wisely.
    “I think I would like to accept, Sir Gerald,” she said. “Thank you.”
    “Splendid,” he said, smiling at her. “The house will be ready for you in two days’ time. Will that suit you, Priss? I have asked Miss Blythe to release you from your other duties in the meanwhile—provided you accepted my proposition, that is.”
    “Thank you,” she said. “May I see the house before it is ready, sir? Perhaps I can help to set it up.”
    He scratched his chin. “I would like to have it perfect for you,” he said. “But it is to be your house, Priss. If you would like to have a hand in arranging things, then I suppose I could take you there.”
    “Will you?” she asked, her eyes sparkling at him. “Today, sir?”
    “Right now, if you wish,” he said. “I have no other engagements until this afternoon, and I have my curricle outside the door.”
    “I shall fetch my bonnet,” she said, turning toward the door. But she turned back before opening it. “Will you mind being seen with me, sir?”
    “If you are to be my mistress, Priss,” he said, “I daresay we will be seen together from time to time. I am not ashamed of you.”
    She smiled and let herself out of the room. She drew several great steadying breaths before approaching the stairs. But before she reached the top, she was running up them two at a time.
    She was to be Sir Gerald Stapleton’s mistress. There was to be no one else, no more clients at Miss Blythe’s. Just him.

S IR GERALD FOLLOWED HIS NEW MISTRESS FROM room to room in the house he had leased just that morning and watched her. She walked quickly and lightly, and she looked about her eagerly, seeing everything. Her cheeks were more flushed than usual, her eyes brighter.
    “I will need heavy curtains at these windows,” she said when they came to the main bedchamber upstairs. “The sun will shine brightly in the mornings. Not that I mind being awoken early, of course, especially on a day when there is sunshine. This is a pleasant street, sir.” She stood looking out through the window. “It seems quiet.”
    “I chose the neighborhood with care,” he said.
    She turned and smiled warmly at him.
    “This is a cozy room,” she said several minutes later, standing in the middle of the parlor downstairs and looking about her. “I like square rooms. They areeasier to arrange. And I am glad the fireplace is large. The room will be warm in winter.”
    He strolled into the smaller room adjoining the parlor. “You will be able to use this room as your private sitting room if you wish, Priss,” he said.
    She came to stand at his shoulder. “Oh, no,” she said. “I think I will make this into a bedchamber. It will be more convenient when I am entertaining you, will it not, just to walk through into this room rather than having to go upstairs. The rooms up there can be my private ones.”
    “As you wish,” he said. “It is to be your house, Priss.”
    She looked rather like a child with a new toy, he thought. Her dark curls were somewhat disheveled from her bonnet. Her face looked sparklingly pretty if one ignored the ugly bruise on her jaw.
    “I have put the choosing of the furniture into the hands of one of my own servants,” he said. “If you wish to make any special requests, you had better tell me