The Prince's Mistress

CHAPTER FIVE: A Lady Lost and a Love Found

Tremayne fingered the letter from his man in London, contemplating it with a faint sense of satisfaction. A Lady Honor Thorne had indeed gone missing from an estate in Wales after the death of her father. The story was unconfirmed and it had been put about that she was visiting family in Scotland, but discreet inquiries had been made throughout the countryside and even on the continent for her whereabouts. Every runner worth anything was searching. Rumor had it that the Marquess of Kent wanted her back and quite desperately.

Tremayne quite understood why one would want her back. Her father had left her everything that wasn't entailed, along with all the properties and monies from her mother's dowry. Her inheritance included both copper and coal mines, an interest in a shipping concern, a townhouse in Mayfair and an estate in Shropshire. This wasn't including the enormous dowry her father had put aside for her.

The lady's fortune wasn't her only asset. It was said she was beautiful with blonde hair that fell past her waist and a face that rivaled an angel's, though no one in society could confirm this. Very few people had ever met her and those who had remembered her only as a very pretty child.

Mrs. Reed had appeared at Castlemaine around the same time as Lady Honor's disappearance. Would a lady become a housekeeper to escape inheriting a fortune? Not likely. No, it had to be something else.

It was rumored that her father had betrothed her to her uncle's son, Lord Arthur Thorne, before he died. He considered Lord Arthur for a moment. He was hardly a frightening young man, and was every bit as beautiful as his father, the Marquess of Kent. He was a bit of a fop who enjoyed his leisure, gambling and the work of a good tailor. He had a well-paid mistress and was known to tup the housemaids, but never to force them. No, marriage to him was hardly a frightening prospect. Her uncle, however, was a formidable opponent.

The Marquess of Kent was an independently wealthy man who once had the reputation of bedding women with the zeal of a crusader. He had kept several mistresses and still managed to scatter bastards throughout all of England. His promiscuous behavior mysteriously came to an abrupt halt some years back. He began keeping only one mistress and visited her infrequently. After a while, he even gave her up. He was every matchmaking mama's dream, but he had never remarried after the death of his first wife.

He dispatched his enemies with unconcerned ruthlessness. The Marquess was also the lady's legal guardian. He could very well be the source of her fear. He had been hunting for her with the same zeal he once applied to bedding women. He had employed every savvy investigator in London to find his missing niece. He had disappeared from society for over a year after his brother's death. One of his servants confided to an investigator that he had seemed almost mad with grief. Interesting.

Was Mrs. Reed really Lady Honor Thorne? He couldn't tip the girl off by asking her. He'd simply invite the Marquess for a visit. A short jaunt into town was just the thing.

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The Marquess of Kent idly watched the season's batch of debutantes float by as if unaware of their predatory gazes upon him. He looked bored, but he was acutely aware of all of them. He wasn't looking at them as possible brides. He was looking for her, damnit. He couldn't stop himself. He looked for her everywhere and saw her in everything.

She must have convinced someone to take her in, but he had no idea who. He had hired runners and done as much snooping as he could without drawing attention to her absence. He was becoming increasingly afraid that it would be for nothing and he would never find her. She had left him with an emptiness in his soul. He didn't know where she was, but he'd never give up looking.

He tamped down the pain that thinking of her always caused and focused once again on the girls that flit about the room until he spotted Lady Amelia. She had just come from the country and would know of all the gossip being bandied about. He had almost reached her when a voice called, "Lord Gavin, I haven't seen you in an age!" Lord Tremayne approached Gavin with a pleasant smile and an outstretched hand. "I say, old chap, where have you been?"

Gavin returned the smile and shook his hand replying in kind, "I have no idea how we've missed each other, but I hear you've been quite busy with that Russian earl. The two of you have been cutting a path through London, I hear. No more duels, I take it?" Tremayne gave a wicked grin and replied, "Oh, no harm was done. The old boy lived. He can still shoot the next man to bed his wife."

Gavin shook his head, "I say, that Russian fellow should be a little more circumspect. Eventually someone will outshoot him." Tremayne took the ribbing with good humor and returned, "He simply isn't accustomed to hiding his dalliances. Not as smooth as you were." Gavin gave a half smile as he was reminded of his former habits. "I am a terrible example of morality, I know. Still, I have been a model of chastity for some time. I have reformed."

Tremayne looked horrified. "Say it's not so. You were a model of impropriety and my personal hero." Gavin chuckled but shrugged. Tremayne looked mollified but offered, "You should meet Carlisle. He is hosting a rather lot of guests this summer at his estate in Wales. The house is a wonder all on its own, and the guests he hosts are usually fascinating. Say you'll come for a spell. He has some gorgeous hunters you'll love."

Gavin was tempted by the invitation. He could check around Wales for Honor. Enough time had passed that she would have become comfortable and most likely, sloppy. "I'd love to. I can come in a couple of weeks, if that's acceptable."

"Perfect, it's when I planned to return."

Tremayne gave him a genuine smile. He had a feeling the mystery of Mrs. Reed would soon be solved. 

Mrs. Reed continued to deliver Mikhail's breakfast every morning and report what she'd learned from the other servants. He hadn't cared about his guest's dalliances, but he enjoyed Mrs. Reed's rise in color as she took in his nudity and relayed the salacious gossip. To her credit, she didn't stumble over the more intimate details, but rather explained the situation as delicately as possible. He took delight in every moment and asked as many questions as possible.

For instance, just that morning she had relayed that Lord Hadley had been found in Lady Mosley's room. They had been inflagranti delecto at the time. Mrs. Reed continued in her calm voice, "The maid shut the door loudly so that the couple would know it was time to return to their respective rooms."

"What were they doing?" he asked innocently. Mrs. Reed blushed and asked, "Is it important?" Mikhail sipped his coffee patiently. "I did ask for details. Do you need to question the maid?"

As it happened, she didn't. The woman had been sitting on the gentleman's face. Ellie had been nearly bursting with laughter over the scene. She relayed the incident between guffaws and barely managed to squeal out, "It was the funniest thing I ever saw! I swear, his bald head peeping from between her thighs and her moaning--it looked like she was giving birth to an old man's head!"

Honor decided to skip that part and said blandly, "I believe she was sitting on his face." Mikhail's eyes narrowed at that, but his only comment was, "Lord Hadley is far more interesting than I suspected." He set his coffee cup down. "Would you like to do that, Mrs. Reed?"

"My lord?"

He waved a hand in dismissal of her feigned ignorance. "Don't pretend, Mrs. Reed. It doesn't do you justice. Would you like to sit on a man's face? Have him suck and lick you while you watch?"

His housekeeper's cheeks flamed. "My lord, please. You wanted to know and I told you. My personal desires are not--" Mikhail cut her off, moving as fast as a panther to her. He leaned his naked body in and licked the corner of her mouth, and kissed the pink of her cheek. "Your desires are all I want to know. Now, tell me. Do you want that? Do you want me beneath you?"

Honor's heart slammed in her chest. He was naked and hard. He was beautiful and smelled like coffee, spices and male musk. Her throat closed so that she couldn't speak and she burned with the image of him naked and licking her. She choked out, "Please don't do this, my lord."

He kissed the spot beneath her ear and whispered into it, "I can't help it. I want to be beneath you, kissing and sucking you until you scream my name, Mrs. Reed."

Honor closed her eyes and remembered Gavin's mouth on her. Would he be like that? Her eyes sprang open and she backed away from Mikhail. "I must leave now, my lord. I have other duties." 

"Run away, Mrs. Reed, back to your dusting and washing. Forget the silk of my sheets and my mouth on you. Yes, washing the sheets is so much better." He laughed, but it was bitter and bordered on angry. She was tired of it, tired of being denigrated and made to feel small for protecting herself.

"My lord, would you humiliate me in front of your guests? Would you take me to bed and make my life the gossip fodder of the servants and the ton? I would die of shame."

Her words pushed him over the precipice and he pulled her roughly to him. His hands gripped the curve of her buttocks and he shoved her soft thighs against his hard c**k, relishing the place where he belonged. "Do you think I'm ashamed of wanting you, Mrs. Reed? Should I feel ashamed that my body comes alive when my housekeeper is in a room? Should I hang my head because I lay in bed dreaming of you beside me? Shall I confess to a priest that I stroke my c**k while I think of licking your sweet cunt?" His mouth hovered over hers, his breath hot and smelling faintly of coffee. 

It wasn't a kiss so much as it was a branding. His tongue plunged into her mouth, exploring and tasting her. She tasted of sugar, cream and tea. She was soft, warm and wet. She melted under his mouth; her body pressed into his.

Nothing would have wrested her from his arms then, not the insistent knocking of his valet or even the entire staff knocking at his door. No, it was some last vestige of honor that made him lift his head and bare his teeth to her. "Run away, Mrs. Reed, before I decide to risk your shame and mine."

Honor walked away as swiftly as she could without actually running back to her room. Her mind reeled and her body was hot. She felt that the entire world could sense her wantonness. She had insulted him, but every time he touched her it was a seduction, every word was an invitation to his bed, no matter what else he was saying. The worst thing she could ever do was to become his mistress. It was bad enough that the house was filled to the rafters with people--people that had known her father and knew her uncle. The last thing she needed was questions or gossip about her among the ton.

She was lying to him every day about who she was and if he ever found out, he would hate her. She knew that shouldn't matter to her. He was using his position as her employer to force her into sleeping with him. He didn't have the moral high ground. Still, it wasn't as if he had to do it. Women practically fell at his feet, fought over him and desired him above all other men. Honor was nothing compared to those beautiful women in their fine clothes. She was dowdy, pale and plain next to their brilliance.

Still, every morning Mikhail's bed was empty of a companion. He had taken no one for weeks. He was waiting on her-- his housekeeper. Waiting to listen to her, wanting an excuse to touch her and hoping she would touch him. She could sense it in the air; it snapped and sizzled silently around him.

She needed to leave and she needed to leave soon. She penned a letter to Rose asking for her help to find another place. Davenport would supply her a reference, she was sure of it. If only Rose would write back.

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Davenport caught her attention and let her know that Elizabeth Huntley needed the assistance of a lady's maid, hers was sick. Honor sent Ellie, knowing that she would love the opportunity to advance her skills. She then went to check on Lady Huntley's maid.

The girl was pale, except for the bright red circles of fever on her cheeks. The room smelled of sickness, though it had been cleaned. She felt the girl's burning head and her touch made the girl's eyes flutter open. Honor asked softly, "Have you been sick to your stomach?" The girl nodded and shut her eyes again. Honor patted her hand and said kindly, "I'll be back with something that should help."

Moira had taught her and Rose how to use herbs to heal. She needed white bark, chamomile ginger and honey. She headed first to ask Davenport to fetch the doctor and then to the kitchen to prepare the tea. She was on her way back to the girl when Mikhail burst into the kitchen demanding, "Where are you going with that?" Honor's mouth fell open in shock. He was below stairs and yelling at her. She snapped her mouth shut and answered politely, "I'm going to give this to a maid who isn't well. It will help her."

Mikhail snatched the cup out of her hands and said, "I'll be damned if you will. You have no idea what has made that woman ill and I can't have my staff infected. The doctor will see to her and then we'll find a girl from the village to nurse her. Not you, Mrs. Reed."

"But, my lord--" He cut her off impatiently, "Mrs. Reed, Lady Huntley and her cousin arrived last night from India. Do you know what disease is rampant in India, Mrs. Reed?" She shook her head, dumbly, afraid of what he was going to tell her. "Cholera. Now, go and take a bath, as hot as you can stand it. Anything that comes out of that room is to be immediately washed in strong lye and hot water or burned. No one will go into that room except the doctor and the girl I hire. Do you understand?" Honor nodded and whispered, "Yes, my lord. Please see that she gets the tea. If it's cholera she will need this immediately. She must drink lots of water." Mikhail nodded and reiterated, "Go bathe, Mrs. Reed. Now."

As she washed, she recalled how huge his frosty eyes had looked, how angry he'd been with her. That night, she heard that the maid did indeed have cholera. Lord Carlisle had forbidden anyone to enter the room except the doctor and the nurse.

The maid was alive the next day and sipping on Honor's recipe for tea. No one was allowed in her room, and it was kept strenuously clean. Almost everything that came out of the room was burned or washed immediately in hot soapy water. The rest of the house was cleaned thoroughly and many of the guests decamped in fear.

The disease didn't spread. Elizabeth Huntley and her cousin had been quarantined to one room together as a precaution. They both began to suffer cabin fever by the end of the second day. Requests for all sorts of games, cards, books and foods made their way down the stairs and into Honor's hands. Honor understood their discomfort and tried not to be annoyed by the constant barrage of demands, but she threw up her hands at the requests for caviar and champagne. They were very near to Scotland! Items such as caviar were precious, no matter how much money one threw at the problem. It took a month or more to get caviar.

There were tins of it, but they were used for Carlisle's "tea." His tea consisted of perogies, caviar, thick slices of black bread and lemon cream cakes. To Honor, it seemed odd, but she was used to a conventional English tea. Still, the earl loved his tea and Honor was unwilling to use his caviar for two spoiled women, but they were guests. She sighed, put an order in for more caviar and told the cook to use as little of it as he reasonably could.

With the size of the household growing smaller, Honor's fears of discovery began to lessen. Servants went unseen by most guests, but with fewer guests she attracted the notice of the few remaining. She alleviated this by becoming even scarcer, sending the excess servants to do what she normally would. This left her extra time to indulge in things for which she normally would have no time.

She made her way to the currently unused ballroom to the piano forte by an enormous expanse of windows and glass doors. The room was hot and Honor went through it throwing open windows, followed by the doors that led to the garden. No one was about at this time of day, it being too hot for the gardeners and anyone else with a grain of sanity.

Honor's summer gowns were lighter and she wore only one petticoat, but the heat was still oppressive. She stood by the window, catching the breeze that came off the ocean with a long sigh. How she missed the beach. As a child she was able to spend hours on the beach. She and Rose had swam until they were exhausted, ate picnics and collected a million shells. Even in winter she had made her way to the beach to simply stand by its shores in awe and wonder.

Now she had little time for such frivolities. Her one afternoon off was usually spent on her personal shopping or other small errands. Sometimes Danny would come to give her news of Rose, but Rose herself never came. It was too dangerous.

Sighing, she uncovered the piano and began to play Chopin. She stopped abruptly as memories of a long ago day haunted her. She tried not to think of them, but they refused to go back into the locked closet in her mind. They flooded out and she began to play, reasoning that if she finished the song then she would finish with them as well.

"You play beautifully, Mrs. Reed. Part of your privileged upbringing?" Mikhail stood in the doorway that led out to the garden. She cursed herself for not having noticed his arrival, but she'd been busy exorcising ghosts, now hadn't she? What was he doing here in any case? Earls didn't frequent dusty ballrooms during the hottest part of the day. Then again, this earl did pretty much as he pleased. She stood and curtsied.

She forced her voice to be light, lighter than how she really felt. "Good afternoon, my lord. I suppose one could call it privileged, but I look on it as unfortunate. It has left me with useless skills such as this and little else." He tutted and frowned. "I find your skills useful. You not only run an impressive household, you balance ledgers, and also know healing arts as well. Now it seems you also play the piano forte. How is that?"

Honor's lips thinned at his prying, but answered truthfully, "I had tutors and governesses. My father was away on business a great deal. I was raised by servants who taught me anything I had an interest in and a great many things I had no interest in. I was told it was to "make me a lady." I think my father would cringe to know all his money went to making me a housekeeper." She laughed then, because no matter how little her father cared about her, a Thorne working as a housekeeper would have him turning over in his grave.

She noticed desire sparking in Carlisle's eyes. Why was this? She hadn't done anything but laugh and play Chopin. Perhaps Chopin was terribly erotic to men. Who knew? She could have every spinster from here to Dover married in a thrice with this bit of knowledge. She giggled harder at the thought of spinsters pouring over Chopin in the hopes of landing a husband, whores struggling over the notes and randy young men tearing the clothes off women who played a fine tune. She couldn't decide if her governess would be proud or horrified. Her giggles increased and she put a hand over her mouth, trying to keep them from spilling out.

Mikhail regarded his housekeeper who looked particularly stunning, in spite of or perhaps because of the heat. She was laughing, showing her perfect, white teeth and the smallest dimples in her cheeks. He hadn't seen her smile this close before, only the once with the young man in the village. She was utterly captivating when she smiled. Her hand fluttered to cover her mouth and he took it away. He found he never wanted her to stop.

Locks of her hair had fallen from the severe chignon to curl around her face and her heavy black gowns had been replaced by a lighter lavender muslin. He decided she couldn't be wearing more than a single petticoat beneath it, because it clung to her round buttocks and legs in a most revealing way. He wanted to throw her skirt up, pull down her stockings and lick her from her ankles to the top of her thighs. He'd stay there, licking until she cried for release and he'd give it to her. Oh, yes, he would.

Something in his gaze must have changed because she stopped laughing and her eyes widened in alarm. She was right to be afraid, because he was going to bed her. His prick was a swollen between his legs, heavy with need and desire. He had gone too long again without a woman, because he only wanted this woman. This housekeeper with her damned modest dresses, lemongrass scented hair and ivory skin that blushed golden pink. She had stolen his ability to reason. She was his only reason.

She began to back away, but his hand shot out to grab her waist and stopped her. His voice was thick and husky as he explained, "Oh, no, Mrs. Reed. It's time now." Her green eyes grew even wider, darkened and her voice came soft, so soft that he could barely hear the words. "My lord, this is a public room. All the doors are open and anyone could come inside."

He pulled her close and began to unfasten the buttons at the front of her dress. His mouth came down to the curve of her neck and kissed it. He whispered into the shell of her ear, "No one is coming into this empty ballroom. Not today, Mrs. Reed."