Page 20 of Only a Mistress Will Do

Torn between the elation of playing music again and the shock of Tristan’s touch, Violet sat in the chair, allowing the warmth of the fire to soothe her for a moment or two, until he reappeared. At least he had liked her playing, although she was mortified he’d heard her stumble so badly at the end. She would practice hard so when he heard her again he would be even more pleased. And she did want to please him. A small repayment for his numerous kindnesses, but something within her power to do.

Tristan entered bearing the tea tray himself and she rose, holding out her hands to take it from him.

“No, my dear. Please sit.” He nodded to her chair and she sank down again. “You’ve given me a treat after a long and taxing day, so indulge me by allowing me to serve you.” Once he had settled the tray on the music chest, he pulled a small flute-edged table in front of her. “Mrs. Parker assures me the shortbread came out of the oven not ten minutes ago.”

Violet inhaled aromas of fragrant tea and sweet pastry and her stomach gave a growl. She clamped her hands over the offending organ as heat rushed to her face. Curse it. Just when she might have become comfortable with him.

“You are ready for tea, I see.” He grinned, taking some of the embarrassment out of the moment. “Well, I could tell you have worked hard for it. That is why you are so accomplished.”

“Not very accomplished now,” she said, accepting a napkin from him.

“Nonsense. I’ve no musical ability myself, but I recognize true talent when I hear it. Sugar? Milk?” He poured a cup, then hovered over the bowl of sugar with a pair of tongs.

“One lump and a splash of milk, please. I have not played for a very long time. And even longer since I had the opportunity to practice regularly.” She sipped the tea, deliciously hot and sweet, and took a bite of the still warm petticoat tail. “Ummm.” Violet couldn’t hold back the sigh of contentment. The confection all but melted on her tongue.

“Mrs. Parker’s shortbread would rival Mrs. McLintock’s I’m sure.” He leaned back in his chair opposite her and crunched into a wedge. It disappeared in two bites and he reached for another one.

“Who is Mrs. McLintock?”

“The Scottish woman who apparently invented shortbread about thirty years ago.” When he laughed, his face turned boyish. “At least she gets the credit for writing it down in a recipe book before anyone else. Mrs. Parker told me the first time she baked them for me.” His laughter died as he looked at her, his gaze traveling from her head to her feet. “I see you met with Madame Angelique.”

“Yes, I did. It was quite a surprise.” Completely aware of his scrutiny, Violet sat straighter and smoothed out her skirt. “I cannot thank you enough, my lord.”

He glared at her over the shortbread. “My lord?”

“Tristan. Tris.” She blushed and could do absolutely nothing about it. “You have been more than generous to me. I cannot think how I shall ever repay you.” There. She had given him the opportunity to issue the suggestion she still half expected. Better to get it out in the open and be done with it.

He raised his eyebrows as he lifted his teacup to his lips.

Those very full, very sensual lips she could still feel kissing her body.

“Can you not, my dear? Perhaps I can think of a way you could repay me that will be to our mutual satisfaction.” Tris set his cup down and took her hands.

Her pulse raced and her mouth dried to dust.

“Will you become my mistress?”

Chapter 8

Tris waited for Violet’s outraged explosion, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Despite their conversation this morning, he knew she expected him to issue the indecent proposal. She’d given him the opening deliberately and he’d taken it. He stared longingly into her eyes. He loved to tease and suspected she’d be a fun target.

Violet bit her lip. Her face paled a trifle, but she squeezed his hands and said quite calmly, “Yes, I will.”

“What?” Tris jerked his hands away from her and pushed himself back in the chair, setting the cups and saucers to rattling. If he could have gotten farther away he would have. “What do you mean, ‘yes’? You should have said absolutely not.”

A puzzled frown ruffled her brows. “But you said I could repay you—”

“Christ in Heaven, I was teasing you, Violet.” He pounded his fist against his forehead. Idiot. “You seemed to expect such an offer, despite my words this morning. I thought you’d turn me down with a large flea in my ear.” ‘Sblood, he had to make this right. Poor Violet looked as though she was about to cry. “I do beg your pardon, my dear. It was a very ungentlemanly thing to do.”

“It’s just you have been so kind and generous to me, Tris.” She sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye. “I kept thinking of all the gowns I ordered from Madame Angelique. They must be terribly expensive. And the house, the servants, Susan. I simply wanted to do something to show how grateful I am.” She bent her head. “I thought you wanted me…like that.”

The last words were spoken so low Tris had to lean in to hear them. Damn. If only she knew the truth. He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face until she looked him in the eyes.

“Violet, you are correct. I do want you like that. You knew that last night, I believe.”

Slowly, she nodded, trying to turn her head, but he held her so she would have to see him. She needed to hear his story and understand why any relationship between them was impossible.

“I also told you I am betrothed. I signed the settlement papers today. Once I have given my word, I will not go back on it. That would be unfair to my betrothed.”