Ann Lethbridge - A Regency Courtesan's Pride - More Than a Mistress / The Rake's Inherited Courtesan

‘But you won’t turn me away if I come to your bed of my own free will.’

He closed his eyes briefly as if he battled demons of his own.

She half-expected him to back down. The other half waited desperately for his answer. Because if he rejected this offer, she would know he despised her indeed and his offer of help was out of the question.

A long sigh escaped him. ‘No, I would not turn you away if you came to me of your own free will. I’m damned well not made of stone.’

She let go a breath of her own. She’d actually been holding it while she waited for his answer. ‘Then we have a bargain.’

Dear God, what would Caro say? She’d be angry, and disappointed, but she’d have to admit, eventually, it was the best solution. She’d have to forgive her, eventually.

Her insides trembled. He was staying. He would be hers tonight and tomorrow and into the future. The pen dropped from fingers weak at the thought of nights in his arms.

He leaned forwards, elbows on his knees, gazing at her intently. ‘Now that is settled, let us start with who you think might have tried to damage your carriage.’

Merry could quite happily drown in those dark brown eyes.

Concentrate, Merry. She shook her head. ‘I’ve gone over and over it in my mind. I know some of the mill owners and clothiers hate dealing with a woman, but they were Grandfather’s good friends. I can’t believe any of them would do me harm.’

‘Businessmen are notoriously ruthless,’ he said reasonably.

She rose to her feet. ‘But they are not murderers. I won’t believe it. I’ve known these men all my life.’

He held out a hand. She walked around the desk and took it, feeling its strength. He enclosed her hand in warmth. ‘You can’t let soft emotions cloud your thinking.’

‘I’m not one of your sentimental women who doesn’t know about harsh realities.’ She pulled at her hand. He gave it a tug and somehow she ended up sitting on his knee, enfolded in his arm, resting against his chest. It was so easy to lean against him.

He placed a warm hand on her thigh. His heat scorched her leg through the wool. ‘Merry, listen to me. Someone tried to kill you, no matter how you look at it.’

‘But why? I’ve done no one any harm.’

A finger toyed with the fine hairs at her nape. A shiver ran through her, not cold, searing hot. Her insides turned to liquid.

His voice was a gentle murmur when he spoke as if he, too, felt the rise of passion. ‘Let us think it through together. What is the reason behind their dislike of the asylum you established? It is not unusual for towns to help those less fortunate. Indeed, every parish is obliged to help their poor.’

‘It might be their wives egging them on. Because of the kind of women we sought to help.’

‘Ah,’ he said.

‘What do you mean, “Ah!”?’ Indignant, she pulled away.

He hauled her back against his chest. His chuckle vibrated against her shoulder. ‘Nothing like an angry woman to move a man to action.’

His hand caressed the underside of her breast. Oh, heaven help her, was that his his erection against her thigh? Desire flooded through her. She turned her face up. His dark eyes were glimmering with light, yet his expression contained concern. For her. As if he cared.

The door burst open.

Merry tried to jump to her feet. She found herself restrained as she looked into the startled face of her manager. ‘Mr Prentice?’

The short stocky man reared back as his pale blue eyes took in the scene. His ruddy face flushed a deeper shade.

‘Miss Draycott,’ he gasped, shock writ large on his face.

Merry winced. More grist for the gossip mill. She pried Charlie’s hand free and stood up. ‘Mr Prentice, let me introduce you to the Marquis of Tonbridge, my betrothed. My lord, this is Albert Prentice, my manager.’

Charlie rose easily to his feet. He stuck out a hand. ‘Prentice,’ he said easily, with just the right amount of friendliness and condescension that would put the man at ease without being effusive.

Prentice’s eyes goggled. His jaw worked, then somehow he managed to take Charlie’s hand and bow. ‘My lord. A pleasure.’ He turned his eyes to Merry. ‘I’m sorry for interrupting. I wasn’t expecting

‘I am glad to see you. I hope you had no trouble on the roads?’

‘I no. I came along just as they were removing your carriage from the ditch. For a moment I thought. Jed said you had an accident. Are you all right?’

She saw Charlie narrow his eyes, watching Prentice’s reaction. Good Lord, the man suspected her manager.

‘I’m fine,’ Merry said quickly. ‘Luckily his lordship arrived in time to rescue me.’ She shot him a look. ‘Although I had things well in hand.’

Prentice’s gaze swivelled to Charlie. ‘I didn’t know you were expecting company.’

‘No reason why you should, is there, old fellow?’ Charlie asked.

Merry’s gaze flew to his face. His expression was dark. Stern. Questioning.

‘Mr Prentice is my trusted adviser in all aspects of Draycott’s,’ she said quickly. ‘I wasn’t sure his lordship would come so early in the New Year, Mr Prentice, but negotiations regarding our betrothal have been under way for some time.’

Prentice swallowed and tugged at his neckcloth. ‘Oh, aye.’

‘You have no cause for concern, Mr Prentice,’ Merry said firmly. ‘Nothing at Draycott’s will change.’

‘Except my assistance with Miss Draycott’s problems,’ Charlie said in rather a dangerous-sounding voice. It was almost as if he mistrusted the man. Dash it. She wouldn’t have him upsetting her manager.

She smiled at the young man. ‘Albert, Lord Tonbridge is going to help with our plans for the Skepton Asylum.

He and I are going to speak to the other mill owners. Who do you think we should approach first?’

Prentice twisted his hat in his hand; expressions chased across his face: chagrin, worry, doubt. He forced a smile. ‘Mr Broadoaks would be best, Miss Draycott.’ He took a deep breath. ‘All t’other owners listen to him.’

‘Is he married?’ Charlie asked.

‘Aye. Got four sons and three daughters, too.’

Charlie gave her a significant look. ‘I suppose the sons are out of leading strings?’

‘Aye. Two of them already help their Pa at t’mill.’

‘Benjamin Broadoaks was Grandfather’s best friend,’ Merry added. ‘He has been the most receptive to my ideas. He will help us.’

Prentice looked unconvinced. ‘Shall I speak to him?’

‘No,’ Charlie said, before Merry could answer. ‘Mr Broadoaks will receive a visit from me.’

Merry bridled at the tone of command. ‘From us,’ she said. ‘Mr Prentice, I have here a list of instructions for the mill. I think it will reduce production costs appreciably. Would you see to it, please?’

Prentice ran his eye down the notes she had made. ‘It might help,’ he said. ‘I’ll take it right away.’ He hesitated. ‘You are sure you were not harmed yesterday?’ His gaze darted to Charlie. ‘You were lucky out there on the moors with a snowstorm coming on.’

‘Very lucky,’ Charlie said.

‘I am fine, Mr Prentice. Thank you for your concern. Please give my regards to your mother.’

A muscle in Prentice’s jaw flickered at the obvious dismissal. ‘Mother will be most glad to know of your kind wishes, Miss Draycott.’ He bowed and went out, closing the door behind him.

‘Shifty-eyed bastard,’ Charlie said. ‘I don’t like the look of him.’

Merry blinked.

‘Bursting in here as if he had the right,’ he continued.

‘He’s a friend and an employee.’

Charlie rose to his feet. ‘You may think of him as a friend, but do not be surprised if he has other designs.’