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Authors: Tamara Lejeune

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical

Rules for Being a Mistress (27 page)

BOOK: Rules for Being a Mistress
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It was inconceivable to him that Miss Vaughn might be wholly unaware of his presence in Bath. It was in the newspapers, and on everyone’s lips.
She must be avoiding me,
he thought.
She must be trying to intrigue me by playing hard to get.

“Is she truly a beauty?” he asked.

Serena looked at him. It would be useless to deny it. “Ask the Duke of Kellynch if she is beautiful,” she answered. “He knows her. Some would say he knows her rather
too
well.”

Redfylde looked startled. “Good lord! Is she
Kellynch’s
Miss Vaughn?” He began to laugh. “The heiress of Castle Argent? Here in Bath? What a joke! Now I
must
meet her.”

“Kellynch’s cast-off mistress?” Serena sneered.

“She ain’t his mistress, you fool. She’s his niece. Her father’s one of old Kellynch’s bastards. Now tell me,” he added, his pale blue eyes narrowing, “how can I meet her? I have no intention of applying at her door like a supplicant. Let it appear to be an accidental meeting of some kind.”

They were alone in the drawing-room of her house, the house he paid for. He walked over to Serena, curled his middle finger behind his thumb, and filliped her hard on the end of her patrician nose. “Think of something!” he instructed her angrily.

The following afternoon, Lord Redfylde and his eldest daughter paid a visit to Miss Bulstrode’s exclusive Seminary for Young Ladies, conveniently located in the heart of Bath, just steps away from Queen’s Square. For nearly half an hour, father and daughter stood outside the edifice waiting for Miss Vaughn to come to collect her sister. She was late.

Surreptitiously, Redfylde looked at every female that passed through the gates. Not one in five met his idea of a tolerable woman, let alone a beautiful one. Most of them were obviously servants. They went into the school alone, and they came out with one or two female children. They dribbled away, and did not interest him in the least.

“Is that her?” he occasionally inquired of his child.

Of his four daughters, black-haired Amelia resembled her dead mother the most and her father the least. Redfylde had no use for any of his children, as they were all useless females, but he had a special distaste of his eldest. From a young age, the child had been taught by her mother and her aunt to be cold and aloof to him. The result of their interference was that Lady Amelia had no natural affection for the man who had created her.

At last he saw Miss Vaughn hurrying up the street. There was no need to ask the question “Is that her?” Even before she was close enough for him to see her face, he could perceive from her effect on the people around her that she was a beautiful girl. Heads, both male and female, turned to watch her as she passed. One young man actually ran into a lamp-post.

Her dress was striped in blue and white, like mattress ticking, Redfylde thought with all the contempt of a man of fashion, but her figure was just what he liked: slim and virginal. This was not the ideal body type for breeding, of course, but his lordship had never been attracted to ample women. Although tall and muscular, he was not very well-endowed in his manhood, and large women made him feel inadequate. A bully by nature, he instinctively was attracted to women whom he could physically overpower with ease.

“Don’t just stand there,” he urged his daughter impatiently as Miss Vaughn drew near the school gates. “Go and say hello.”

Miss Vaughn rang the bell on the gate and stood waiting.

“I can’t,” Amelia cried in soft dismay. “I don’t know her very well.”

Infuriated by her disobedience, Redfylde gave her an encouraging, fatherly shove in the back. Lady Amelia went sprawling. He had forgotten what a mewling weakling she was, like all of Caroline’s children. Not for the first time, he wondered if she was really his flesh and blood.

“You clumsy little fool,” he hissed, gritting his teeth. “Get up! You are embarrassing your father. Get up, or you will be punished. I shall thrash you within an inch of your life.”

Amelia looked up at him, terrified. “Please, Papa.” She began to whimper.

It was the absolute worst thing she could have done. Pleas for mercy always awakened the worst cruelty in him. He bent over her, his lip curled, his walking stick in his hand.

Overcome by her fears, Amelia fainted, but, just before she lost consciousness, a beautiful angel appeared, an angel with green eyes, white hair, and a golden halo. Miraculously, the angel came between Amelia and her father, and Amelia was saved. She felt herself being lifted up and carried away to a beautiful place.

When she woke up, she was lying on the big horsehair sofa in Miss Bulstrode’s private sitting room. Her head was in Miss Vaughn’s lap. Miss Vaughn was quietly stroking her hair. Lady Amelia’s father was there, too, but he was different. Miss Vaughn had transformed him somehow. It took Amelia a moment to realize that her father was
smiling.
He was no longer angry with her. She had escaped certain death. Miss Vaughn had rescued her.

Her mother in heaven must have sent Miss Vaughn to rescue her. It was the only possible explanation that Lady Amelia could conceive. No one else had ever loved her, and people were always telling her that her dear mama was in heaven watching over her.

“Hello,” said Miss Vaughn, smiling down at her. What Amelia had thought was a golden halo was actually her round bonnet of golden straw. “You gave us all a bad scare, my lady! Do you think you can sit up now? Will you try for me?”

“Of course she can,” Redfylde said. “There’s a good girl.” Even though he wasn’t angry any longer, his voice sent a shiver through his daughter’s body.

“Are you cold,
mavourneen
?” asked Miss Vaughn, her voice soft and creamy. “Would you toss me the bit of a blanket there, my lord?”

To Amelia’s amazement, her father obeyed. Incredibly, he seemed ready and willing to do anything Miss Vaughn told him to. “There, now,” said Miss Vaughn, when she had wrapped Lady Amelia up. “You’re gonna be just fine. Your father’s here to look after you. He’s very anxious about you, you know.”

Miss Vaughn got to her feet. Amelia whimpered and clung to her, but Miss Vaughn gently disentangled herself and went to Amelia’s father. Amelia could no longer hear what they were saying, but the soft murmur of Miss Vaughn’s voice made her feel safe. She knew instinctively that her father would not harm her as long as Miss Vaughn was there.

Lord Redfylde was doing his best to make a good impression. Right from the start, he was fascinated by the Irish girl. It was not just that she was beautiful; he had known and possessed many beautiful women in his time. She was different. She spoke to him with perfect ease, as if she had known him all her life. Her green eyes never evaded his. She made no attempt to disguise her Irish accent, and, if she was ashamed of her shabby clothes, she gave no sign of it. He was cynical enough to think she might be trying to get to his heart by way of his fatherly affections, but he was fascinated by her all the same.

The door opened, and a severely dressed female of some fifty summers stepped inside, leading a fair-haired girl firmly by the hand. “Late again, Miss Vaughn!” said Miss Bulstrode. “I am going to have to charge you a late fee!”

Cosima began to make excuses.

Miss Bulstrode’s eyes widened as she saw Lord Redfylde. He was an imposing specimen of the nobility. He wore his tight-fitting mulberry coat and buff-colored pantaloons with distinction. “Oh!” she said. “Were you waiting to see me, sir?”

“I am Lord Redfylde,” he said haughtily.

“My lord!” Miss Bulstrode made him a very deep, unsteady curtsey.

“This is my eldest daughter.” To him, Lady Amelia looked disgustingly insignificant. It seemed to him that, if she could not be male, Lady Amelia might at least have been an
attractive
female. Instead, she was a fat, listless drab.

Redfylde much preferred the rosy-cheeked, fair-haired girl who had entered the room with the headmistress. The younger Miss Vaughn was tall and slim and healthy. In her time, she would be as beautiful as her sister.

Miss Bulstrode sank into another curtsey. “My lady,” she murmured. “This is a great honor. Curtsey, child,” she commanded Miss Allegra.

Allie’s curtsey was a mere sketch.

“I’m sorry I was a bit late fetching Allie, Miss Bulstrode,” said Cosima, twisting her hands together. “But Lady Amelia was feeling ill, and so…”

“Heavens!” cried Miss Bulstrode. “I will fetch the doctor at once!”

“She doesn’t need a doctor,” Redfylde said curtly. “She’s had more cake than is good for her, that is all. She is fat and lazy. She needs exercise. I am determined, Miss Bulstrode,” said Redfylde, “that my children receive only the finest possible education. Perhaps you would give me a tour of your seminary?”

Cosima took her sister by the hand. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said quickly, hoping that Miss Bulstrode would forget all about collecting her exorbitant late fee.

“You’re not going?” said Redfylde.

“Please, don’t leave me,” said Amelia, her terror returning.

“I must,” Miss Vaughn said apologetically. “I’m so dreadfully late, my mother will think I ran off with the gypsies again, like I did when I was eight.”

Redfylde took a step toward her. “Perhaps you will be so kind as to look in on Lady Amelia tomorrow, Miss Vaughn? She will want to thank you properly for your kindness to her.”

Cosima looked at Amelia’s desperate little face and could not refuse. “I’ll make time,” she promised. “I’ll bring Allie to see your ladyship after school tomorrow, shall I?”

She bent over Lady Amelia and kissed the child’s forehead.

The visit was paid the following day. The Miss Vaughns arrived breathless, the elder wearing the same striped dress from the day before, and the younger bearing the small gift of a puzzle for the recovering Amelia.

Serena gave them tea. The elder Miss Vaughn ate nothing, but the younger ate her fill of sandwiches and cakes.

Lady Serena had not bothered to show his lordship Lady Caroline’s new tooth, Cosima was shocked to discover. She was sure the proud father must be dying to see it. In fact, Redfylde had seen nothing of any of his children besides Amelia. He had only used Amelia as an excuse to meet Miss Vaughn; otherwise, he would not have seen her either. He had no desire to see them, but to indulge Miss Vaughn, he had them brought down from the nursery.

“Well, children?” Cosima said, taking Lady Caroline from the arms of her nurse. “Aren’t you going to give your father a kiss?”

Amelia and Imogen and Elizabeth stared, thunderstruck by the concept.

Redfylde was annoyed.
Anyone would think the ugly little brats were terrified of me,
he thought angrily. Miss Vaughn would think he was a monster.

In fact, it never occurred to Miss Vaughn that the children might be afraid. Her own father, she was persuaded, was the worst blackguard who ever lived, but she had never in her life been afraid of him. For all his faults, Colonel Vaughn had never been violent. She decided the girls must be shy, and still grieving over the loss of their mother.

“Go on,” she said, laughing. “Give him a kiss! He won’t bite you!”

Pale as death, Lady Amelia stepped forward. Redfylde bent a little, Amelia put her arms around his neck and kissed her father’s cheek. Reluctantly, Lady Imogen and Lady Elizabeth followed her lead. “That’s better,” Cosima said warmly.

“You have let them all grow fat, Serena,” Redfylde said in distaste.

“Ah, sure, ’tis only puppy fat,” Cosima said quickly. “All they need is a bit of exercise and fresh air, as I keep trying to tell Lady Serena. Oh, but listen to me, ganching on like a magpie, when your lordship is dying to see the tooth!”

Redfylde stared at her blankly. “The tooth?”

Without warning, Miss Vaughn brought the babe closer to him. Redfylde was startled to say the least. The babe opened its sticky pink mouth and gurgled. Reddylde had never been this close to the child before and its open mouth was as disgusting to him as an open sore. At birth, all the children had been taken from their mother and placed in the nursery.

“Take her,” said Miss Vaughn.

He cringed. “I couldn’t possibly,” he said quickly.

Miss Vaughn ignored his protests, and placed Lady Caroline in her father’s arms.

Lady Caroline began to scream the instant she felt her father’s arms around her.

“There it is,” Cosima exclaimed in triumph. “See? Lady Caroline has cut her first tooth! Don’t cry, little baby. Papa has you now,” she cooed. She gave the bewildered marquess a dazzling smile. “I just love babies, don’t you? If there’s a baby within a square mile of me, you can bet I’ll be the one holding him.”

Redfylde held Lady Caroline at arm’s length.

“They do not seem to like me, however,” he sniffed.

Cosima took the baby from him. Lady Caroline stopped crying as if by magic. “It’s hard for them,” Cosy said softly, rocking the baby from side to side. “It’s not been so very long since they lost their mother. I know it’s hard on you, too, my lord,” she added kindly, “but you can see how much the children need you. I hope you’ll be staying a while?”

BOOK: Rules for Being a Mistress
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