A Regency Courtesan's Pride: More Than a Mistress / The Rake's Inherited Courtesan

The account books didn’t look any better now than they had in the early hours of the morning. One thing was obvious—while costs were rising at the mill, income was falling. Clearly, she would have to deal with the other mill owners’ enmity quickly or face ruin.

Merry raised her gaze from the rows of numbers and stared out of the window. No blue skies today. The moor looked particularly bleak, a wasteland of white patches amid the brown grass.

A brief knock and the door opened to admit Charlie. He looked wonderful. Refreshed. And, damn him, more handsome than ever.

An odd feeling of shyness tensed her stomach. Warmth stung her cheeks. He’d think her such a naïve fool for blushing after her wantonness in the night. She kept her smile cool. ‘Good morning, my lord. Ready to leave?’

He grinned. ‘Forgotten my name so soon, my sweet? How are you, Merry? Did you sleep well?’ He strode to the desk, gathered her hands in turn and kissed each palm. ‘You look beautiful.’

Right, beautiful in her plain brown gown and ragged grey wool shawl. Her working clothes. The man was a flirt. ‘I am well, thank you, Charlie. Is your carriage at the door? I will come and bid you farewell.’

He wandered around the room, looking at the neat rows of ledgers on the shelves lining one wall, each one neatly dated. ‘So this is where you spend most of your time?’

‘Yes.’ She pulled her old shawl closer around her, not because she was cold, but because having him prowling around her office seemed to make the room smaller.

‘I’m not leaving,’ he said.

‘What?’ Her mouth fell open.

‘I’m not leaving while your life is in danger.’

Why did men always think they were the only ones able to solve problems? ‘I don’t need your help.’

He sat down in the chair opposite the desk. His jaw set in a stubborn line. ‘Yes. You do.’

She squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Do you know what they will think if you run around town standing up for me? They will think I am your mistress.’

His dark eyes gleamed, but his face remained deadly serious. ‘After last night, you are.’

‘Well, it won’t matter what you say in that case. They will listen politely and once you leave they will do as they wish. As my my

‘Lover,’ he said, raising a brow.

‘Very well. As my lover, you will have no influence at all. And my reputation will be ruined into the bargain. I have to deal with these men every day. I need their respect. This will only garner ridicule.’

He leaned back in the chair, kicked out his legs and folded his arms across his chest. ‘Not if I pose as your fiancé.’

She stared at him. ‘Why? You were vehemently opposed to this idea barely a few hours ago.’

‘I won’t leave you to face this alone. It wouldn’t be right.’

She blushed. ‘You owe me nothing. No. I don’t need your help. Caro and I can manage this for ourselves.’

He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Your choices are fiancé or lover. Either way I will speak to them today.’

Blackmail. Brass makes t’wheels turn. Only he didn’t lack for money, and, unless she was completely deranged, he still wanted her.

‘It’s a mickle for a muckle, then,’ she said.

He stared at her blankly.

‘Is’t not plain as the nose on your face? I’ll be your mistress while you play the fiancé. ‘Tis a fair bargain and when it is done, there’s no obligation on either side.’

His eyes flashed. ‘There you are with the outrageous statements in that dialect again. I’m not looking for damned payment. What kind of man do you think I am?’

She glared at him. ‘What? Is it beneath you to make an honest bargain? Smell too much of the shop?’

A blank look crossed his face. He took a deep breath. ‘It’s a matter of honour, Merry. Surely you understand?’

Unfortunately she did. A man who thought his honour was at stake would never give in. Her heartbeat quickened. Her pulse raced. The thought of him remaining here for days, no doubt. The temptation of having him close by.

Caro would be furious.

She glared at him. ‘You said you were in Yorkshire on business. I suggest you continue on your way.’

A dark brow flicked up. ‘Suggest all you want, I am speaking to these men and that is final.’

He meant it. This man was as stubborn as she was. And if he succeeded, she would be beholden to him. Every good turn deserves a reward. Asking him to tie his name to hers deserved a far greater reward than one night in her bed.

‘And you won’t accept payment.’

A muscle flickered in his jaw. Anger. Pride. Well, she had her pride, too.

‘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.’

Had she been too friendly? Let the young man jump to conclusions? ‘Nonsense,’ she muttered. Dash it. Yet another problem to resolve. She couldn’t afford Prentice going off in a huff.

‘Time to visit Mr Broadoaks,’ Charlie said.

‘Not without me.’

He grinned. ‘Now why would I miss an opportunity to drive a lovely young woman out in my curricle?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘I have a better idea. We’ll take the closed carriage. More private. And warmer.’

He smiled. ‘Why, my dear Merry, you are a naughty puss.’

She hadn’t been expelled from school for misbehaving with a gardener’s boy without learning a thing or two about taking chances when they came along. She cast him a sideways glance. ‘You don’t know the half of it.’

‘Regretfully, I must decline.’

Dumbfounded, she stared at him.

‘My horses need exercise.’ It was a lie. She could see it in his face. But why? She tried not to care, not to feel rejected, but it didn’t seem to be working.

They were admitted into the courtyard of Broadoaks Mill, at the edge of town, by a child of about ten with a runny nose and a ragged jacket covered in white fluff.

There but for the grace of God, Charlie thought. Only an accident of birth separated him from the masses. He certainly didn’t believe in divine right. Charlie tied his horses to a post.

‘Master’s in t’office.’ The boy pointed to a set of wooden steps up the outside of the building.

Charlie gestured for Merry to go ahead and enjoyed the view of her shapely ankles and the sway of that deliciously curved bottom as she climbed. No wonder men had invented this bit of courtesy. Ready to catch them if they fell, indeed. It was all about the view.

To his chagrin, his body responded with enthusiasm. He hadn’t expected her to offer to be his mistress, and he’d had the devil of a time refusing. Not that she’d listened. The determination had been clear on her face. And damn him, he was looking forward to tonight with impatience.

He ought to be ashamed.

When they reached the wooden landing at the top, Charlie rapped his knuckles on the peeling green paint on the door on the narrow landing.

‘Come,’ a deep voice said.

Charlie ushered Merry inside. The room overlooked the mill floor on one side and the courtyard on the other. The elderly man behind the desk with red cheeks, a nose covered in broken veins and a full beard sprinkled with grey covering most of his lower face, hauled his bulk to his feet. ‘By gum, Miss Draycott. I weren’t expecting you! Not so soon after the meeting.’

If ever again, Charlie thought, searching the other man’s face for signs of guilt or disappointment. He looked genuine pleased to see them.

‘Come in, lass. What can I do for you? My word, young lady, don’t know when I’ve seen you looking more gradely.’

Bliss had that effect. She glowed with it. Charlie felt more than a little pride, though he kept his face completely expressionless as the mill owner turned to him with curiosity in his gaze. ‘I don’t think we’ve had t’pleasure, sir.’

‘Tonbridge,’ Charlie said. He put out a hand.

The older man’s eyes widened. ‘Mountford’s heir, if I’m not mistaken.’ Curiosity deepened in the muddy brown eyes.

‘Miss Draycott has done me the honour of accepting my offer,’ he said. Not a complete lie. The offer was merely not the one this man would expect.

He hoped. He was none too sure what the townspeople thought of Merry Draycott. He wasn’t quite sure what he thought of her himself.

‘By gum, lass,’ Broadoaks said, grinning. ‘Your grandfather would be in alt. My heartiest congratulations.’ He took Merry’s hand in his big rough one and patted it. Charlie had the urge to snatch it away, but held still. Finally the elderly merchant stuck out his hand to Charlie. ‘By thunder. A Mountford. Congratulations.’

Beneath the older man’s assessing gaze, Charlie felt a bit like a prize Arabian stallion. It wasn’t the first time he’d been accorded that kind of inspection, but usually it was the mothers who looked at him that way.

He managed a grim smile and shook the meaty paw. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Ah, you are a Mountford, all reet. By gum, a chip off the same block as your father.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘I’ll wager Chepstow is crowing from the rooftops about this.’

A cold weight settled in Charlie’s gut at the sound of the familiar name. He glanced at Merry.

She winced and shook her head.

Charlie’s bad feeling travelled up to his chest. ‘Chepstow?’

‘The earl. From over York way,’ Broadoaks said, oblivious to the chill sweeping the room. ‘The Purtefoy family are her ma’s family. Not pleased with the marriage they weren’t. Always was a thorn in your grandpa’s side, lass, the way they treated your poor ma. But you showed them.’

‘You are related to the Earl of Chepstow?’ Charlie asked, hearing the growl in his voice, the building anger, but didn’t care to hide it. The earl was a crony of his father’s. A man with political clout of his own. And Lady Allison’s father.

‘He’s my uncle,’ Merry said, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Guilty.

Charlie’s anger rose from his chest to the skin at the back of his neck. Had she played him for some sort of dupe? The hart in one quadrant on the shield on her gatepost came from Chepstow’s coat of arms, he realised. The rest of it, some sort of puffery. Hell. Why hadn’t he recogised it?

Broadoaks’s bushy eyebrows shot up. ‘Something wrong, my lord?’

Charlie stared at him. Wrong? It couldn’t be worse.

Merry shot him a pleading look. ‘We can talk about this later, Tonbridge. We came to ask Mr Broadoaks a question.’

Charlie gave the old fellow a smile that said he was about to impart a secret. ‘If you’d keep the betrothal between us for now, we’d be grateful. The settlements are not yet final.’

‘Aye, certainly, my lord. Business comes first.’ He winked at Merry. ‘Make sure you drive a hard bargain, young lady. Do your grandpa proud.’

Merry blushed, as well she might, the sly little baggage.

Charlie took a deep breath, reining in his temper, tamping down the suspicion he’d been gulled from the first moment they met. If it wasn’t for the fact that there was no way she could have known he’d be travelling along that stretch of road two nights ago, he might have thought she’d planned the accident herself.

She couldn’t have known.

While some of the glow seemed to have gone out of Broadoaks’s smile, he waved expansive hands. ‘Even so, this news calls for a celebration. A glass of wine? Some brandy?’

Merry smiled. ‘Not this early in the day, Mr Broadoaks.’

Making the decisions again. Ruling the roost. Indicating he was under her thumb. Charlie gritted his teeth. ‘Perhaps another time. Our business is pressing.’ Not nearly as pressing as the words he had for Merry after this meeting. ‘Let me explain.’

Merry looked startled, no doubt surprised he had taken charge of the conversation.

The old man’s eyes sharpened. ‘Aye. Sit ye down, both of you. Tell me what service Benjamin Broadoaks has in his power.’

Charlie gave Merry a warning glance. ‘The matter of a home for women in need.’

Broadoaks’s face turned the colour of puce. His gaze swivelled to Merry. ‘Now then, lass. The matter was put to rest the day before yesterday.’

‘I think not,’ Charlie said. ‘You know as well as I, Miss Draycott has no intention of letting the matter die. The real question is how did you and the other mill owners plan to stop her if setting light to the house didn’t work?’

Broadoaks recoiled. His chair creaked in protest. He stared at Merry. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say.’

Merry bit her lip. ‘Someone put those men up to it.’ She looked at Charlie. ‘And now—’

‘Someone tampered with Miss Draycott’s carriage on her way back from her meeting with you and the other mill owners. She was lucky she wasn’t killed.’

Broadoaks lunged forwards, his beard stiff with indignation. ‘Now wait a minute, your lordship. I won’t say I like the idea of a flock of whores setting up shop in the middle of town as bold as brass, but it ain’t a matter to kill someone over. Nor did I have owt to do with t’fire. Were some of the lads from the Muddy Duck got fired up about t’women taking their work.’

‘They are not whores,’ Merry said. ‘Not any more. How will they ever get free of that life unless someone gives them a chance?’

‘Hmmph,’ Benjamin Broadoaks replied. ‘'Tis same old argument. We don’t want them here.’

‘Not quite the same,’ Charlie said, before Merry could speak again.

Broadoaks eyed him warily. ‘Now, young fellow, surely you see the right of this. Miss Draycott here has a soft heart, but we are men of the world. We know—’

‘The Durn estate will pay for the rebuilding of the house. The asylum will be named for the duchess. I will act as her agent in this matter and Miss Draycott will head up the Board of Directors.’

Merry’s look of gratitude was like a knife to the gut, because it was a bloody lie. He wanted to throttle her. He flashed her a charming smile. ‘That is all you want, isn’t it, my dear? ‘

From the way her face stiffened, he was pretty sure she heard the sarcasm in his voice.

Broadoaks didn’t seem to notice. He sank back in his chair with the look of a man about to be hung. ‘That puts the cat in with the pigeons.’

‘You have a problem with the plan, Mr Broadoaks?’ he asked quietly.

The old gentleman fought through his beard to tug at his shirt collar. ‘No, my lord. The wives won’t be best pleased, I’ll admit to that, but they’ll come round once they know a Mountford’s behind it.’

His father would know nothing of the matter. Or at least he wouldn’t have known, if Merry wasn’t related to the Purtefoys. Now Charlie wasn’t quite so sure if he could bring this off without the betrothal becoming common knowledge. He’d been well and truly caught. Just as Robert had. An ironic smile formed on his lips. ‘Good.’

‘How is Mrs Broadoaks?’ Merry asked a little breathlessly. Fearing his wrath now she’d been found out, no doubt. ‘Well, I hope?’

Broadoaks’s eyes twinkled a little. ‘My missus doesn’t change, Miss Draycott, but she is well, thank you for asking.’

Merry grinned.

Charlie glared at her and then at Broadoaks. ‘I still want to know who is behind the threat to Miss Draycott’s life.’

The old man closed his eyes briefly. ‘I know nowt about it. Nor do any of the other owners, I’d vouch my life on it. Aye, no good looking down your nose at me, my lord. Why would we be involved? We had her set to rights. No. You look elsewhere. I’ve not heard any gossip neither.’ He looked at Merry. ‘Only you know who might want thee feeding t’worms.’

Right now Charlie wanted to do a bit of worm feeding himself. ‘Who would know?’

‘Beyond me, my lord.’ He shook his head. ‘I’d try talking to the innkeeper at t’Muddy Duck. He might know what set them off.’

‘The Muddy Duck is in the Skepton Town Square,’ Merry said.

‘Not a place for a woman,’ Broadoaks said heavily. ‘You know, lass,’ Broadoaks went on, ‘if you’d put that house of yours on t’other side of town, people might not have been so fratched by the idea.’

Apparently, Merry didn’t care who she angered, as long as she got her own way. Damn her. ‘Do you have a suggestion, Mr Broadoaks?’

Merry gasped. Charlie shot her a warning glance.

She pressed her lips together. At least sometimes she showed a little sense, because he was in no mood to tolerate an argument.

The elderly gentleman pulled a large handkerchief from his pocket and mopped at his brow. ‘There is a house, a small one, over on west side of town. Regular folks live there. It would do for two or three women.’