Chapter Fourteen
“If you apologise one more time, I swear I will do something awful.” Max glowered at Kitty over the dining table in the small parlor.
She sniffed. “I’ve never done that before in my life, I swear.”
“You mean you’ve never cried?” His eyebrow rose. “I find that somewhat hard to believe, my dear.” He sipped his wine and watched her face in the candlelight.
“Only as a little girl,” she answered. Turning to her food, he realized that topic was closed.
She was pale still, but composed, her crying episode having ended with her pulling away from him, wiping her nose and determinedly striding up the stairs, announcing she needed a brief rest. It had lasted all afternoon, so he guessed she’d fallen asleep. They’d not met until the dinner gong.
He had to admire the strength that held her together and also admit he was surprised by it. Kitty, to all outward appearances, was a beautiful woman who possessed all the graces, had a modest amount of financial backing, and decorated the salons of the Ton every bit as successfully as her peers. To find her capable of handling everything the last twenty-four hours had thrown at her, and keep her countenance through it all, well it was extremely impressive.
Her collapse after all was done…merely showed how she had been affected, and demonstrated what she’d kept hidden during the times of crisis and decision.
“You are silent,” she said. “You must be tired too. I did manage to rest, but you’ve been up for hours, haven’t you?”
He nodded. “I was just thinking about today. Not a usual day in my life, or yours I’d suppose.”
She managed a chuckle. “Max, if my days were like this on a routine basis, I would probably have ignored this delicious dinner and gone directly to the brandy.”
He grinned. “I understand.” He sipped his wine. “Your aunt was all right?”
“She was. But it was probably best you were elsewhere when she arrived. Aunt Venetia, it would seem, responds to emergencies with temper. She needed someone to blame.”
“Me?” said Max.
“I’m afraid so.” Kitty shrugged. “From Hecate’s accident to us being here together, you were the villain in the drama.”
“How long will it last? Should I worry?”
She looked up at him in surprise. “Good lord, no. She means no harm. By tomorrow she’ll be worrying about Hecate, of course, but also trying to assess the damage to her reputation by it all.” She put down her knife and fork and touched her napkin to her lips with a satisfied little sound. “That was excellent, by the way. You have a marvellous chef—his creations are delicious.”
“He is a she, and she’s been here at Mowbray House since my grandfather’s time. Started as an undercook or a potato peeler or something.”
Kitty laughed, as he meant her to do. It was a sound that warmed him, which—upon reflection—should have disturbed him, but didn’t.
“So Lady Allington wasn’t too concerned that Hecate had left?” He pursued the topic, since it would be relevant when it came to his and Kitty’s status in town.
“She was,” Kitty shook her head. “I wouldn’t want you to think she wasn’t distraught. She loves Hecate—everyone does—and she’s promised to keep footmen at the ready to send messages to and from Ridlington if necessary.” She paused. “She’s a good woman, Max. I wouldn’t be here without her help. She didn’t have to welcome Richard and myself the way she did, nor did she have to offer us financial support, but she did that as well. I do believe she has her own way of dealing with things, though. And in this case, she knows Hecate is better off with her family at Ridlington. Thus she will spend more time working on how to present matters to London, than dashing down to the country where she knows she will be of little use.”
“She is a practical woman. A rarity in town.” He finished his wine. “And since you mentioned him, where is your brother? Of all the people to punch me in the face this morning, I would have expected his fist to land the first blow.” He rubbed the sore spot absently.
She examined his chin. “You can barely see the bruise.”
“A great comfort. Thank you for mentioning it.”
“I was just pointing out…”
He raised his hand. “My bruise is nothing. I’ve had worse. Where’s Richard, Kitty?”
He saw her pause, and look away from his gaze.
“Kitty?”
She squared her shoulders. “I don’t know.”
He frowned. “Doesn’t he have rooms with Lady Allington?”
“He did,” she said, running her fingers over the embroidery on the tablecloth. “He spends less and less time there, and more and more with his friends.”
“So you really don’t know where he is?”
“No, I don’t. And he is a grown man, as I am a grown woman. He makes his own choices.”
“I sincerely hope they are intelligent ones.”
She gave him a sideways look as she reached for a tiny sweetmeat. “I’m sure they are. To him.”
“Kitty.” He gazed at her, keeping his expression and his voice calm. “Where do you think he is?”
A pair of worried eyes met his. “I think he may be in Brussels.”
Max blinked. “Good God. What the hell is he doing there?”
She wiped her fingers carefully in the napkin. “Well, there was this woman…”
Max rolled his eyes, then lifted a hand. “Enough. I fully comprehend the situation.”
“Good, because I don’t.” She glanced at him. “But Richard is Richard, and he’s my twin. So as long as he’s healthy, I shall not worry.”
Curious, Max pursued that statement. “Is it true what they say about twins?”
She smiled. “You mean about us being able to sense the other’s feelings or something?”
“Yes. Things like that.”
She thought for a moment. “I believe it is. I do know that if Richard is in trouble, or injured, I get an odd feeling.” Absently, her hand went to her ribcage, just below her bodice. He broke his leg when we were about eleven or so. I knew instantly, even though I was in the Ridlington library and he was several miles away.”
“Fascinating.”
“Well, I suppose so. But then again, he knows if I’m in any kind of pain as well. I’ve never broken anything, thank goodness, but…he might have picked up on my emotional outburst this morning.” She sighed. “For which I shall apologize once more.”
Max narrowed his eyes. “I did promise to do something awful if you apologized again, Kitty.”
She looked at him from tired eyes. “And if you wish to do so, then you must, of course.” Up went that Ridlington chin. “I am your mistress still, Max. Regardless of this momentous day, you are still my Master if you so desire.”
He rose and held out his hand. “I do desire, Kitty. I desire you. As my mistress, in my bed, naked and awaiting my pleasure. And yours.”
She rose and moved around the table to take his offered hand. “Then by all means let us retire, Master.”
Together, they walked upstairs to their rooms, separating at their doors without a word.
Max knew what she was expecting. That he would take her again, perhaps spank or tease her to her heights and then fuck her, the way he had done last night.
What she didn’t realize was that he was a Master who deplored the predictable.
So when she tapped on his door, he summoned her to enter. And her eyes widened.
He was in bed, the candles low, the room warm and the other side of the quilts turned down.
She blinked. “Max?”
He patted the bed. “Come, Kitty. It has been a day beyond belief for both of us. I am tired, and find my desire for you burns still, but my body needs rest at this moment.”
She hesitated at the end of the bed, as if unsure of what to do.
“Kitty, come.” He motioned again. “Remove your robe and come here beside me.”
She did as he bid. “I don’t understand, Max. You puzzle me.”
“It’s simple, my dear. Tonight I don’t need a mistress.” He turned to her, encouraged her to turn on her side, and tucked her bottom into his body as his arms enclosed her and brought her up against his chest. “I need…”
“What?” She whispered, settling into his embrace.
“You.”
*~~*~~*
In spite of the awful events of the previous day, Kitty awoke to the realization that she’d just enjoyed one of the best nights’ sleep she’d had in quite some time.
She might have put it down to the deliciously soft and comfortable bed, or the cosiness of the room, or the slight fragrance of lavender emanating from the linens. But she was nothing if not honest.
It was Max.
Having a warm body next to her, feet she could touch if she stretched out her own just a smidgen, and arms that reached for her, surrounded her even in sleep—it was all those things. And as the light crept through the tiny breaks in the curtains, indicating the dawn of a new day, she accepted that even if she could change things, she would not give up this moment for the world.
Then she thought of her sister, and sighed. Today they should get at least a message from Ridlington; she hoped so, and prayed with all her heart that the journey had gone smoothly with no further detriment to Hecate. Lying there, snug beneath a warm quilt, with Max’s rhythmic snuffling a soft background to her thoughts, Kitty spared a moment to ponder the future.
The die had been cast, without doubt. She was now a “fallen woman”, having accepted the protection of a man, assumedly in return for sexual favors. Her body tingled at that particular thought, but best leave that for the time being. She had no control over Max and their physical lovemaking. Quite the reverse…he had control over her.
And he’d given no indication that he would buy her a house of her own, where he could visit at his whim. So it would seem that for the time being, she’d be here at Mowbray House.
A pressing need made itself known, and she sighed as she slowly and silently slipped from the bed. Max grunted, snuffled and shifted, but slept on, giving her chance to pick up her robe and make her way back to her room. The new day was here…time to get on with it.
The household staff were efficient, and seemingly non-judgmental, since a maid appeared at her door with a light tap, bearing a day dress for Kitty to try on. It was at the master’s request, she was told.
“It’s lovely,” said Kitty, staring at herself in the mirror. “Does this belong to Mr. Seton-Mowbray’s sister?”
“I don’t think so, Miss,” answered the maid. “There were clothes and things delivered yesterday. They’re in the bureau and the closet here.” She crossed the room and opened a cupboard door, revealing several other dresses. “This one needed a quick iron, which is why I brought it up. And it’s warm too. Bit chilly outside today.”
Kitty glanced out the window to see grey clouds threatening rain. “In that case, it’s an excellent choice. Thank you.” She smiled at the maid.
“My pleasure, Miss. Glad to help.” She bobbed a curtsey. “You’ll find breakfast in the small salon, so you go right in and make yourself comfortable. Mr. Deery says you’re to eat, because yesterday was a bit topsy turvy.”
“Mr. Deery is very kind,” nodded Kitty. “I do have a sharp appetite this morning.” She picked up her shawl. “I don’t suppose there have been any messages yet?”
“No, Miss,” said the maid. “’Tis early, as you said. But don’t you worry. We’re all praying for your sister.”
Touched, Kitty swallowed down a gulp of emotion. “I…thank you. Everyone. Please tell them how much I appreciate those thoughts.”
“I will, Miss. Now you go right on down. Small parlor. Second door on the left.”
She opened the door and Kitty walked through with a grateful smile, knowing the girl would now clean the room and have it perfect before Kitty returned.
The scent of food lured her to the small parlor where there was indeed a lovely breakfast ready for the eating. Deery stood next to the silver-domed serving dishes.
“Good morning, Miss Ridlington.” He bowed. “I trust you slept well in spite of yesterday’s chaos?”
“I did, Deery, thank you for asking.” She allowed him to seat her at the table.
“Tea, Miss?”
Kitty paused. “Oh yes, if that’s all right. I’m not sure if I should wait for Mr. Seton-Mowbray…”
“No need,” a voice hailed them from the doorway. “I’m here. Tea for me too, please, Deery. And fill plates for both Miss Ridlington and myself. We’re like to starve without sustenance.”
Deery obeyed, presenting them both with tea and casting a wry look at his master. “The likelihood of your wasting away is remote, sir, I’m glad to say. However, your use of hyperbole is distressing, especially at this hour of the morning.”
Max grinned. “Extra bacon, you old curmudgeon,” he called as he unfurled his napkin. “And make sure Miss Ridlington gets some of that blackberry jam for her toast.”
She watched in fascination as a large plate of food appeared in front of her, along with toast and the aforementioned blackberry jam. “Good lord. I won’t be able to move if I eat all this.”
“I’m not sure you should.”
“What, eat this or move?”
Max sipped his tea. “Move. As in leave the house today.”
She sobered. “You’re serious?”
“Until we know what’s going on, Kitty, a measure of caution is well-advised. For both of us. I have business in town that I cannot afford to delay or miss, so I’ll be gone for most of the day. But I am taking two armed footmen with me, rather than riding alone.”
“Well, that makes sense,” she approved.
Deery bowed to Max. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
Max shook his head. “This will do. Thank you Deery. We’ll ring if we need anything.”
“Very good sir.” Deery took himself off.
Max returned to his conversation. “For my peace of mind, Kitty, I would appreciate your remaining indoors while I’m gone.”
She looked outside to see rain starting. “Not a hardship, Max. As long as I have permission to use your library…”
“Kitty, you are my guest…”
“No, I’m not.” She looked over the table and into his eyes. “I am not your guest, Max. I’m your mistress. I’m not sure why I’m even here, since it is magnifying the scandal by bringing me to your home. I should be in a small house, in an unobtrusive part of town, and you know that.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Yes, I know that. But I choose to have you here. I have no family or wife to offend or scandalize. What I choose to do, and with whom, is my own affair.”
“I applaud your determination to flout convention.” Kitty tilted her head. “One that I have embraced myself a time or two. However, this situation is a little different, wouldn’t you say?”
“It’s different in many ways,” he agreed. “One of which is that significant damage was done to two people simply because they were in my carriage.” His expression turned hard. “I intend to find out by whom, and why. But until I do, I have to assume there may be danger to myself, or my family. As of now, you are in my house, and therefore possibly running the same risks.”
She could not argue that point at all; the logic made sense, the topic sent a chill down her spine. She finished her toast, then looked up at him. “I completely understand. It shall be as you wish.”
He smiled. “Use the library. You might find some interesting reading material.”
She rose, shaking out her skirts. “Thank you. I will.”
He rose as well. “I will be back before dinner. Don’t worry.”
Coming to her side, he took her chin in his hand and tugged her face upward. “Miss me, Kitty. I’ll be thinking of you.”
“I will,” she answered, her gaze fixed on him. “Be careful.”
“Of course. I have much to look forward to when I get back.” His grin was wicked and he lowered his face to hers, softly slipping his tongue over her lips. “Open for me.”
She obeyed, loving how his tongue invaded and caressed, teasing and urging her to reciprocate.
He groaned, his arm sliding around her and crushing her to his body.
The kiss lingered, heat licking up inside Kitty as her knees weakened beneath his sensual onslaught. But he broke off, pulling back from her, color rising in his cheeks. “Damn, Kitty. If I had the time, I’d fuck you here and now, skirts up, right here next to the blackberry jam.” He cupped her breast and flicked her nipple hard through her bodice. “Would you like that?”
Honesty compelled her answer. “Yes, Master,” she whispered, glancing down at the bulge in his breeches. “I’d like that very much.”
He chuckled. “That’s my good girl. Behave yourself today. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She smiled in response, happy to have pleased him. “By the way? The jam…it is excellent.”
“I’m seldom wrong,” he called over his shoulder.
She sighed as he left, the room suddenly empty and feeling a little colder. “I do hope you’re right about that, Max. I really do.”