Read The Flawed Mistress (The Summerville Journals) for Free Online Page B

‘beautiful woman’ brought a cold scowl to my
expression and I know that he noticed it.
       
“I trust it is nothing serious,” I said, “that is keeping Lady Summerville from
attending herself.”
       
He studied me for a few moments before he replied.
       
“Not serious, no,” he said, “but likely incurable.”
       
I hardly knew what to say to that.  How an illness could be incurable but
not serious was beyond me, and I was not about to ask. 
       
“Can I offer you some refreshments, My Lord?”  I asked, changing the
subject.
       
“That would be welcome,” he replied.  “We can discuss the details for
tomorrow night, assuming that my company will be acceptable to you.”
       
“Of course, My Lord,” I replied uncertainly.  “I am grateful.”
       
There was really not much to discuss, as it happens, just times and when his
carriage would arrive for me.  It seemed that he wanted an excuse to stay,
but for the first time in my life I did not feel threatened by his interest,
nor did I feel the need to hurry the meeting.
       
He was young, handsome and married.  Despite his odd statement about his
wife, I imagined him to be quite happy with her and not in need of anything
else.  He could afford to give his time to talk to me.
       
The following hour was the first time in my life that a man, or anyone else for
that matter apart from my mother, had actually talked to me.  It seemed
that this man was interested in me, me as a person not as a plaything or
breeding vessel. Even when the King asked about me, I could tell that he was
not really listening, that he just wanted to get on with the business of
bedding me.
       
This Earl asked about my family, about my late husband, he asked about me, what
things I liked to do.  I could scarcely find the words to reply.  I could hardly tell him about my late husband, since I barely even
knew his name, nor about my tastes since I did not really have any.
       
“I spend a lot of time reading, My Lord,” I replied.  “I am used to my own
company.”
       
“Perhaps we can change your mind about that,” he said.  “You are
young.  You should be enjoying life, not hiding away from it.”
       
“I have seen little to enjoy so far, My Lord,” I told him.
       
I wanted to say a lot more, to tell him that I did not feel safe outside the
house, that each time I showed my face somebody thought they had the right to
use me to their own ends, because I had no means of my own.  It seemed to
me that this man would understand, though I had no idea why I thought so. 
He was a complete stranger, after all.
       
The following evening he arrived in a huge black carriage bearing his family
crest.  I was very nervous, I have to admit.  I had not set foot
inside the palace since that disastrous night when I was ‘honoured’ to share
the King’s bed and just being there brought up memories I would rather forget.
       
But my companion was as charming as he was handsome and we danced and ate and
talked together like old friends.  Not once was there a hint of anything
untoward, no false flattery or unnecessary compliments which I did not trust,
and I found to my surprise that I was actually enjoying myself.  As usual
there were many admiring glances that came my way, but there were an equal
amount of women intensely interested in my companion.
       
It was the early hours of the morning when he delivered me back to my house and
I was quite sad to see the evening end.  Somehow he had instilled a
confidence in me that I had never had before and I determined that things would change, that I would no longer listen at doors nor
allow the servants to treat me like a child.  Perhaps I could even choose
one of them to be my special maid and companion as I had heard other ladies do.
       
“May I call on you again, My Lady?”  The Earl was saying as he bid me
goodnight by kissing my hand, an action that for the first