The Flawed Mistress (The Summerville Journals) by Margaret Brazear Read Free Book Online

time did not repel
me.
       
I felt deflated by those words.  Was this it then?  Was he going to
propose some sort of liaison like all the others, spoil the impression that I
had formed about him?
       
“Why would you want to do that, My Lord?”  I asked abruptly.
       
“Because I think you are in need of a friend,” he replied with a gentle
smile.  “And I would very much like to offer my services for that
position.”
       
It was not what I expected to hear but I could not help but think there must be
some ulterior motive behind his offer.
       
“Will Lady Summerville be accompanying you, My Lord?”  I asked
significantly, wanting him to know that I had not forgotten his married state.
       
He was thoughtful for a few moments before he finally replied with a heavy
sigh.
       
“She will if you want her to,” he replied, but his
expression had changed to one of concern.  “I can bring her, but she will
have nothing to say.”
       
“I do not understand you, Sir.”
       
“Suffice it to say,” he said, “that she does not enjoy
my company.”
       
I spoke without thinking.
       
“I cannot believe that to be true,” I said then quickly regretted it. 
“Forgive me.  That was forward and not my concern.”
        “No matter.”   He paused then and gazed at me thoughtfully
for a moment.  “If I do bring her here,” he went on, “would you think it
an awful liberty if I asked you a favour?”
    “What favour?”
    “Would you talk to her?  Try to find out why she is so afraid of
me.”  He looked a little embarrassed but he continued:  “I have never
hurt her; I never would.  She will not tell me, and she will not tell my
mother.”
    “Your mother?”   I replied, again without
thinking.  “I am not surprised.  No woman would want to talk about
intimate things to her husband’s mother.”
    How I knew that I could not have said.  I could only imagine if
Lord Connaught had had a mother how it would have
been to discuss his habits with her, or even the fact that he would not speak
to me.
         Lord
Summerville seemed satisfied with my reply, but I could not help but feel
sympathy for him. He seemed sad suddenly, as though mention of his wife had
exposed him, kept him from hiding his hurt beneath his charm.  I had been
subjected to the most selfish and brutal behaviour by men and here was one of
that gender actually concerned that his wife should be
happy.  I had no idea that such a creature existed.
      “I shall take my leave and let you rest.  Think about what
I asked, please.  I would consider it a great service and one more thing;
please do not allow yourself to be hidden away.”  He paused for a moment
before he went on:  “I realise that you do not wish to hear it, but you
really are far too beautiful to hide yourself away.”
       
He left then while I watched him climb into his carriage and wave goodbye to
me.  I waved back, feeling somewhat disorientated.  This had been a
night of firsts for me.  That was the first time anyone had told me I was
beautiful without making me feel uncomfortable.  The Earl had stated it as
a fact, not in an admiring way but as he might have said the sky was blue or
the grass was green.  It was a strange feeling.
       
And I thought hard and long about his odd request.  He had given me a lot
in that one evening, far more than he could ever even suspect, and I felt I
owed him something in return.  Perhaps I could bring myself to speak to
Lady Summerville, to befriend her and learn what troubled her.  I had
little experience of the normal world, but I could try to do it for him.
       
I was half afraid that my new found confidence might desert me after sleeping,
but I still felt it when I awoke and I decided to do what I should have done
months ago.  I knew that one of my servants was robbing me, one of the
senior ones at that who my late husband had placed in a position of
trust.  I determined