An Introduction to Pleasure (22 page)

“Culpepper tried to take something from me,” she explained. “When I refused to give it, he let me go and proceeded to ruin any chance I had of obtaining another post. I tried to find other work, Mama. I was too ‘high-class’ for the lower establishments. Culpepper had poisoned the higher.”

Her mother gripped the arm of her chair as pain ricocheted all over her face. Finally, she nodded. “I see. Of course.”

“I never would have thought to do this, to become a man’s mistress, if the situation had not been dire.” Lysandra sighed. “August demanded more and more money and favors to keep you in the house and I had no funds left.”

Her mother stared at her. “Why didn’t you come to me? At the very least, I would have been someone to share your troubles. And perhaps we could have thought of some alternative solution.”

Lysandra sat down again with a thud. “I suppose that would have been best, but I didn’t want to trouble you with my problems. Not when you were still so sad, so devastated by everything that had happened.”

She stopped before saying more. She had treated her mother exactly as Andrew described his family treating him in his grief. As if they knew better what and how he should be. Like he was glass.

“I’m sorry,” she added. “I realize now that I took this problem, which belonged to both of us, and made it my own.”

“I’m sorry you had to shoulder the burden without anyone to talk to,” her mother said, tears glimmering in her eyes. “Is there not any other way?”

Lysandra shook her head. “Even if there once was, it is gone. I’m on this path now, Mama.” She blushed. “Things have been done that cannot be taken back. And to be truthful, it hasn’t been as terrible as I once imagined. Lord Callis…Andrew… is a kind man.”

Her mother nodded. “Yes. He was nothing but kind to me when we met. A true gentleman. At least I know that you have a good protector.”

Lysandra bit her lip. Her mother had asked her for honesty. And now that was going to be put to the test.

“Actually, Mama, he isn’t going to be a permanent protector for me. I visited a woman—her name is Vivien—and she asked him to… This is indelicate, I apologize… To train me in what a mistress is required to know.”

Her mother blushed. “Oh. Oh, I see.”

“But he has been nothing but kind and generous,” Lysandra hastened to add. “I’m certain he will be helpful in my finding a more permanent protector once this time between us is…over.”

She hesitated in saying the last word because it actually hurt her to do so. Over the time they had spent together, the idea that what they shared would end had become a more and more foreign and a less and less pleasant concept. How could she be with another man like she had been with Andrew?

Her mother tilted her head. “You care for him.”

Lysandra blinked. “No. I mean, of course, I care for him as one person cares for another. He is a friend to me. A good friend. He has shared something with me I could never share with another.”

“With every sentence you come closer to admitting you love him,” her mother said with a smile that was sad rather than pleased.

Lysandra shoved to her feet a second time. “No. I don’t love him. There are not many rules a mistress must follow, but that is one. Falling in love with a protector would be…foolish at best. And what Andrew and I share will be over in another few weeks. I will return to London where Vivien will match me with a man.” Lysandra looked at her mother. “Andrew has said that he will ensure you are still allowed to stay here, though. You’ll never be forced to return to that awful house again.”

Her mother’s face softened with relief, but then she said, “A lot of trouble for him to go through for a woman he has no intentions of keeping.”

Lysandra shrugged. “Perhaps, but that is just the kind of man he is.”

There was a long silence between them and then her mother said, “So he is taking you away to the country, then?”

She nodded. “Yes. For a short time. I will write to you so that you will know I’m well and settled in. And the servants here have our direction there, so you may write to me, or if there are any emergencies. Oh, and Andrew has promised me that August will not be welcomed here by the servants, unless you choose to allow him entry.”

Her mother laughed. “Ah, I’m sure August was very unhappy with all this.”

Lysandra laughed too. “You should have seen his face. Andrew
hit
him and he looked like a schoolchild racing around trying to cow to ‘his lordship’s’ orders.”

For a moment, they shared a giggle at the idea. Then Lysandra moved toward the door.

“Andrew is waiting for me, though. I should go.”

Her mother stood and followed her to the foyer. At the door, they embraced and as they parted her mother said, “Dearest, do be careful. I don’t have any experience in the world you have been forced to join, but I do know that physical…
attachment
can lead to love. And if that is the only rule you should not break, then I worry for you.”

Lysandra touched her face. “I do love you, Mama. Enjoy your new home and I’ll write to you as soon as we have settled in the country.”

She turned toward her carriage at the bottom of the drive. But as she got inside and Wilkes shut the door behind her, her smile fell.

Her mother was treading far closer to the truth than she would have liked to admit. There were many rules meant to be broken in life, but she feared that if she broke this one it would be the end of her.

Chapter Twenty

Lysandra had always been impressed by Andrew’s London home. Unlike her cousin, who depended on gaudy trinkets to shout to the world about his wealth, Andrew was more subtle. But his country home… It took her breath away as they rounded a corner and entered the gate.

The house was situated on a hill overlooking a massive lake and wide, green expanses of hill and valley. Marble columns supported the structure. It was something out of a fairy tale. Or one of those books by the anonymous author that were all the rage these days.

“What do you think of Rutholm Park?” Andrew asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the same view she was.

“It’s wonderful,” she breathed. “Andrew, it’s beautiful.”

He smiled as he leaned back. “It’s been in the family for hundreds of years and was a favorite spot of mine as a child. When I took on the title of Viscount at my majority, I was thrilled that my father offered me this estate as my own. But I suppose, knowing my love for the place, that was why he did it.”

Lysandra glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Already she was learning much more about Andrew than he ever would have shared in London. And in the last few hours, he had begun to be…relaxed. As if a weight was lifted from him.

“Ah, looks as if the staff is ready for us,” he said as he glanced out the window again.

Lysandra followed his line of vision and tensed. At least ten servants were lined up at the staircase as the carriage pulled to a stop.

“Oh, Andrew,” she said, squeezing back against the carriage wall as if that would make her disappear. “I wasn’t expecting an audience for my arrival. What will they think of me?”

He frowned as he looked at her. “Think of you? They’ll think you are a lovely woman who is my guest.”

He stepped from the carriage and offered her a hand out, but as she took it, Lysandra couldn’t help but marvel at the disconnect Andrew truly had from the servants. She had been one not so very long ago. They always talked and judged belowstairs.

And it underscored how very different her world was from his.

She forced a smile as he approached the staircase and began to greet the servants. He introduced her only as Miss Keates with no other explanation for her arrival. They must have known she was accompanying him, for Lysandra saw no hint of surprise or reaction on their faces as they welcomed her.

Slowly, as she relaxed, she began to watch their faces not for their response to her, but to Andrew. All of them smiled widely as they said hello, welcoming him home and saying how much they had missed his presence. And, to her surprise, their response seemed utterly real. There was no doubt that the staff adored their master. But of course, they would. He had proven again and again to be a decent man with a generosity of spirit.

But there was something else, too. Once he had passed by a servant, often their gaze followed him for a fraction too long. They seemed concerned, worried…
afraid
, just as she had thought that Sam seemed afraid at the opera. Again she wondered what could cause that kind of deep emotion.

Eventually, they reached the top of the stairs where a butler was awaiting them. He was a middle-aged man with dark hair that had a touch of grey about the temples. He was dressed smartly and had a no-nonsense way about him that wasn’t unfriendly, but very calm. He didn’t seem the kind of man who would suffer fools lightly.

In short, the perfect fit for a servant for Andrew.

“Ah, Berges,” he said with a wide smile. “I trust everything has been right during my absence.”

“Welcome home, my lord. And yes. Everything has been right as rain.”

“This is Miss Keates.” Andrew motioned toward her, and the servant nodded with just the right level of deference. Unlike the other servants before him, he took a slightly longer look at her, though Lysandra couldn’t tell if he was judging her or not.

“The bags are already being taken to your chamber, my lord,” the butler said. “May I offer you refreshment of any kind?”

“No, we had tea in Crosswater at Mrs. Tate’s,” Andrew said with a smile.

“Ah, yes. She does a lovely tea there at the inn,” the butler said with a brief nod.

Lysandra’s eyes went wide as she watched them talk. They were so friendly with each other. There was respect there, yes, but also something deeper. But perhaps that was what happened once a household had gone through a tragedy like the death of Rebecca Callis.

“I believe Miss Keates and I will take a walk around the grounds, have a bit of air after that carriage ride,” Andrew said. “The weather is meant to be fair only a day or so longer, and I would hate her not to see the estate once the rain begins.”

“Of course. Your supper will be ready at seven.” The butler now turned to her. “Welcome to Rutholm Park, miss. If there is anything you need during your stay, please don’t hesitate to ask me or anyone on the staff. We are at your disposal.”

Andrew took her arm as the butler gave a stiff bow and disappeared back into the house.

He smiled at her. “You see, no judgments.”

She shrugged. “Belowstairs reactions and abovestairs are often very different. But your staff seems very nice, and I’m certain they’ll never let me know whatever they are saying about me behind my back.”

Andrew shook his head. “I cannot believe that is true.”

She laughed. “That is because you’ve never truly been belowstairs,
my lord
. It’s a whole different society than the Society you are a part of. But just as ruthless.”

“I am fascinated that this is what is going on beneath my very nose,” Andrew said with his own chuckle as they walked out onto the lawn toward the lake she’d seen from the carriage. “I would love to be a fly on the wall then.”

“Probably not,” she said. “They might talk about
you
. In fact, I’m certain they do.”

The smile fell from his face and his pace slowed. “I can only imagine what they would say.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and it was obvious that the very idea troubled him.

“I think it mostly has to do with which female servants think you have a nice backside,” she teased gently. “And I’m certain the answer is all of them.”

His eyes went wide with shock and for a moment Lysandra thought she had gone too far in her joking. But then he burst out laughing.

“I never would have expected you to be so cheeky, my dear,” he said as he wiped his eyes. “I think I like this side of you that comes out in the countryside. But I must know one thing.”

She tilted her head. “Anything.”

He arched a brow. “Oh, I’ll follow up on that later, but my question for now is, what side of the backside issue do
you
fall on?”

She slipped her arm free from his and looked around at his bottom as if to judge its worth.

“I likely know the backside in question a bit better than the servants do.” She locked eyes with him. “Don’t I? There aren’t any chambermaids waiting to scratch my eyes out are there?”

He shook his head. “Most definitely not.”

She sighed in mock relief. “Excellent. Well, if I were to be invited into the discussions belowstairs I would say that the backside in question is very fine, indeed.”

“My relief is palpable,” he said with another laugh that warmed her to her very core. Then he caught her hand and drew her against his chest. “Though at this particular moment, your opinion is the only one that matters to me. Perhaps you would care to explore the issue further?”

“Here?” she asked, surprised at his ardor.

He nodded.

She looked around. They had crested a small hill and were now walking along a laughing brook. She could not see the road, nor the house. They were utterly secluded.