A Perfect Mistress (4 page)

Jackson inclined his head coldly.
“Good day to you, as well.”

The dandy stalked away, shutting the door to the inn with a bang. The harried woman, who had been watching silently from the kitchens, brought them their picnic basket. Jackson paid up and included a generous tip. The woman gave him a smile that lit her plain face and pocketed the coin.

“Watch yourself when you leave, sir. It
wouldn’t
surprise me if he were lying in wait for you down the road a bit.
I’ll
have
m’husband
watch for him if you’d like. This is a respectable place, this is, and I don’t like that sort in here.
”

“Don’t concern
yourself
,” Jackson said. “I can handle the likes of him. I thank you for the warning, though.”

Contrary to the barmaid’s expectations, the dandy was long gone
when they went outside
. Jackson gripped Sophie’s waist and swung her into the gig, tossing a coin to the young man
who’d
watered the horse.
The boy’s face
lit up with glee as he clutched the coin, and Sophie’s heart stuttered anew.
Jackson was a kind man, and she
liked
him. She liked
the feel of his big, strong hands on her.
She liked the way
he
made her feel delicate and womanly.
She liked being in his company. She bit her lip.
But
did she like him enough to go away with him?

“Where are we going?” she ask
ed as they tooled along. “Did you have someplace in mind?”

“There’s a small stream up here, with a nice shaded area. I thought we’d eat there.”

In no time at all, they were, and Jackson
unhitched the horse and tethered him
to  the
sturdy branch of a nearby tree. Sophie stood waiting, drinking in the sight of him while he pulled out a small blanket and their picnic
basket. She laughed merrily when he spread the blanket on a
soft
tuft of grass and swept her a bow.
She curtsied back, bending low and laughing up at him.

“Do have a seat,
m’dear
,” he said silkily.

“Oh, this was such a good idea!” Sophie turned
around and around
. The little clearing was just the right spot for a picnic, she thought admiringly. Just enough shade to keep them cool, and the sound of the shallow water running over stones was soothing. Jackson
put
the basket down in the middle of the blanket and began to unpack, exclaiming as he pulled out each item.

“Cheese, fresh bread, peaches, and cold fried chicken.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her.
“And what’s this?” He held up a bottle of wine, so cold that the warm air had made it drip condensation,
then
pulled two glasses from the depths of the
seemingly endless
basket.
“A bottle of the best
sweet
German wine to be had?
How did that get in there?”

“I wonder,” Sophie said dryly. “It’s awfully early in the day …”

“We may need
fortification. Bad weather could strike at any moment, and we will need this wine to stay warm.”

Sophie put her hands on her hips. “It’s
a warm day
, sir
, and the sun is shining brightly
.”

“Ah, yes, but
it’s
Missouri and that could change any moment. Sit down, sit down, and drink up.”

Sophie
laughed
yet again and seated herself beside him. Jackson draped a linen napkin carefully over her lap, and she dug into the food, suddenly famished. She drank the wine he handed her thirstily, forgetting her
reservations
.
She ate with abandon,
not worrying about what he might think,
and
she
couldn’t
remember the last time she’d enjoyed her food more.
She ate greedily until she was satiated, with his approving eyes on her.

“I think this is the best meal I’ve had in years,” she sighed as she popped
one last
morsel of chicken into
her mouth. She wanted more,
but her
stomach was full. “I can’t remember anything tasting as good as the food at this picnic.”

“
it’s
the company,” Jackson said and wiggled his eyebrows at her. His
eye patch
moved up and down, and
Sophie
giggled again. She took another sip of wine, feeling the liquid slide down her throat and
leave
a trail of warmth behind it. She took another, healthier sip, and felt even
warmer and more
relaxed
.
Jackson smiled lazily at her and topped her wineglass yet again. Sophie took another sip and made an appreciative noise.

“Good wine,” she said. “Better than the chicken, even
, and that
was mighty fine
.”

Sophie
stretched out and
leaned back on her arms,
totally
content.

“
I haven’t been on a picnic in years, not since I was a child.” She smiled dreamily, and Jackson felt a surge of lust run through him. Her position thrust her breasts into prominence, and his hands fairly ached to cup them. He started to reach out to her, and thought better of it when she began to speak again.

“
When I was a little girl, Delia and I used to take picnics together.
Papa hardly knew we existed, so we ran wild. We both had ponies, and we rode together every day
, and we always wheedled a lunch from our housekeeper
. We had so much fun.
We were so happy then.” She looked down, her good mood suddenly
disappearing.
Her chest felt heavy with grief.
“I don’t know what happened to us.
I
don’t
know why Delia changed. I
hadn’t
seen her for years until I came to live with her. Now we’re hardly more than strangers.
”

Jackson stretched his body out and propped himself on one elbow. Her eyes
were drawn
to his strong, masculine shoulders and the way his muscles strained against his shirt. Sophie felt her mouth go dry.
From this ang
le, she
couldn’t
see the eye patch, couldn’t even tell that he’d been so horribly maimed.
He was so beautiful…

“
Things happen, and p
eople change,” he said solemnly. “
You were children
then. Children are supposed to
be
happy
. “

The wine had made
Sophie bold, and she
put out her fingers to touch the warmth of his cheek. He turned his face to her, and she could practically see his desire for her; it emanated from him in waves.
He still wanted her;
he’d
never mentioned mistresses again after that first time, and Sophie had begun to wonder. Part of her wanted him to bring it up again, even while she dreaded the end of their time together. She
couldn’t
say yes…could she?

She
moved closer and
smoothed back his hair, enjoying the crisp feel of it on her fingertips. She smiled into his
face
and he leaned into her touch
.
His lips looked so inviting…she leaned forward even further, nearly holding her breath
, absorbed completely in the way that she felt when she touched him
. Would he kiss her? How would she feel if he did?

“
I was
happy
, despite my father.
Were you?”
Her fingers traced the
edge of the ropy
scar on his face, followed the path of his eye patch,
and curled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

His face
turned to stone
, and then Jackson
turned
away
. He began to gather up the picnic leavings, putting everything back into the basket with a restrained violence that frightened Sophie more than shouting would have
.

“No,”
he said shortly. “
We’d better get back. It looks as if it might rain.”

But
when Sophie turned her head up to look, the
sun was shining brightly, and the
re wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

*********************************

They barely spoke at all on the way back to town. Whenever Sophie said anything, Jackson answered her in monosyllables. She
didn’t
know whether he was upset about her touching his
scar
, or if the mention of his family had upset him.

Or
perhaps he’d changed his mind about wanting her
, she thought dully
. Perhaps he had taken
a disgust
with her.
She’d
drunk too much
wine too quickly, after all, and she had behaved
in a silly, provocative manner.

Like Delia did.

When Jackson pulled up i
nto the alley behind the house
,
Sophie started to get out without a word. Jackson leaned forward and caught her arm.
She looked back at him, startled.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“At the park?”

“If you want me there,” she said softly, her heart singing.

“Oh, I want
you
,” he said. “I wonder if you realize how much?”

Sophie held his
gaze
as long as she dared, and then turned to go inside. She heard the sound
s of his
leaving, and turned back at the
kitchen
door to stare after him.

She crept like a mouse into the kitchen, surprising
the cook, Mrs. Ferguson.

“Miss Sophie!” the woman said
, her fingers pleating her stained apron
. “You’d better watch out. Your sister is looking…”

The door burst open
, and the woman’s voice died away
. Delia entered the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed.
Her lips were thin with displeasure.

“Just where have you been, missy?” she hissed.
“As if I didn’t know!
I saw you getting into his vehicle this morning
after breakfast. I wanted you to iron my new dress for tonight. I had to get the little
maid
to do it, and she’s made a right mess of it
.
I told her I was docking her pay.
”
She
sniffed and
shot Sophie a venomous look. “You can just march yourself up to my room and do it again.”

Sophie took off her bonnet, and folded it slowly
, her hands shaking.
Claire, ‘t
he little maid’ was all of 12 years old, and Delia paid her a pittance. Any docking of her pay, and she would be giving Delia money to work here.

“
You are perfectly capable of using an iron, Delia,” she
said coolly. “
You did it often enough when we were children.
I’m
not at your beck and call night and day. If you need it done, do it yourself.” She looked her sister straight in the eyes as she said the next words. “
And I wasn’t aware you had to vet my friends, Delia. Perhaps you’re more like Father than you care to think.”

Delia gasped. “So this is the thanks I get! I open
ed
my home to you,
I took
you in when you had nowhere else to go,
my dear sister,
and
for
th
is
you
give me
insults and
snide remarks.
I’ve
bankrupted myself taking care of you.
You refuse to help me, and you’ve taken to running
around with
my men behind my back!”

“Running around with y
our men?” Sophie asked
, her anger boiling white-hot. She felt her hands trembling, and she clenched her fists at her side
. “
I went for a picnic with a man,
one man
,
singular
. I
haven’t
been out of this house in months except to do your shopping, and I deserve a morning off once in a while.
And
I
wasn’t aware you
were
still interested in him, Delia, since you threw him out of this house
and told him not to come back
.
I’m
quite sure you don’t even remember his name.
And
open your home
to me
?
Bankrupted
yourself
?
Don’t
make me laugh!
You spent the money ‘your men’ gave you on fripperies, and never put a penny away for a rainy day.
That’s
your fault, not mine.
You
only
keep me here so that you can work me like a dog without having to pay me anything.” Sophie snorted derisively.
”
My dear sister, indeed!”