Mistress of Merrivale (2 page)

“You think I’m wrong to want to provide a mother for my daughter? A wife to bring peace to my household?”

“Of course not,” Melburn said. “It’s what we men want.”

“The important thing is she has nothing in common with Ursula.” A flicker of distaste swept Leo, the same one that struck whenever anyone mentioned his dead wife.

“You’ll find Jocelyn is exactly what you search for.” Silence fell, a companionable quiet. Melburn rose to refresh their drinks. “Jocelyn Townsend is a practical woman. As long as you word your proposition carefully, I think she’ll agree to wed you.”

Leo snorted. “Practical? I’ve yet to meet a woman who isn’t ruled by her emotions.”

“Not all women are like Ursula.”

“The ones I’ve met to date are high-strung and anything but peaceful, although I’m sure your betrothed is the exception.” Leo said all that was right to reassure his cousin, but he didn’t believe Melburn. Ursula had been a traitorous bitch, and she’d cuckolded him whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, he was pretty sure Cassandra wasn’t his daughter. His first wife had sucked him dry of emotion, and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. A mutual marriage of convenience with Melburn’s mistress would give him leverage. He’d forever have the upper hand, and that was exactly what he needed to keep peace in his household.

At precisely the stroke of eleven, a sharp rap of the door knocker announced a visitor. Jocelyn set her needlework aside and rose. A flutter of nerves stirred as she smoothed her blue skirts and contrasting pale blue petticoats. It made her realize she’d already half-decided to agree to the proposition. She’d always thought she’d marry like her sisters, but fate and her father had set her on a different path. Under normal circumstances, her intuition would propel her to act with vigilance.

This wasn’t a typical situation.

Her instincts were shouting “yes” because Mr. Sherbourne was Melburn’s cousin. She trusted the earl, and marriage would solve several of her problems.

Out in the hall, Woodley’s somber tones greeted her caller. Her hand crept up to smooth over her locket as she wondered for the hundredth time what Mr. Sherbourne would look like and how he’d react to her and her mother. A man who was willing to overlook her past and offer her the security of matrimony was unusual indeed. He’d most likely possess an appearance similar to Melburn. Yes, the resemblance would help Jocelyn to keep her composure and stifle the anxieties that had kept her from slumber last night.

Woodley tapped on the parlor door and entered. “Mr. Leo Sherbourne to see you.”

“Show him in, Woodley.” Amazed at her calm voice, she concentrated on presenting a serene front.

Woodley directed Mr. Sherbourne into the parlor, and she forced her lips to curve upward when she really wanted to gasp aloud.

Leo Sherbourne was stunningly handsome, his dark eyes piercing and direct. Taller than Melburn, he’d clubbed his midnight black hair in a tail, and this highlighted the stark planes of his face, his olive complexion. Impeccably dressed in a navy blue suit with a pale blue waistcoat embroidered in a deeper blue, he appeared the wealthy gentleman. His choice of color matched her attire perfectly. A sign, perhaps.

“Good morning, Mr. Sherbourne.” She finally rediscovered her manners.

“Miss Townsend.” He regarded her steadily and not a measure of flirtation showed on his features. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” His deep voice caressed her senses, and she stared, mesmerized for an instant. He was…unexpected. Why would he want to take her as his wife? Young misses likely fluttered their eyelashes at him in flirtation, and she imagined older, more experienced women offered to jump into his bed on a regular basis. He didn’t seem like a man who’d experience difficulty in attracting the fairer sex.

“Please take a seat,” Jocelyn said, her mind twisting and prodding this new development. Her right hand rose to check her cap, and she forced herself to still the self-conscious action. Despite her fidgeting, her cap was likely still straight and hid a large portion of her red hair.

He waited until she seated herself before taking possession of the same chair his cousin had sat on the previous night.

“Why are you entertaining marriage with me, given my history?” Jocelyn almost winced at her forthrightness. She caught the flash of surprise in him, the slight narrowing of his eyes then his slow smile. Her heart beat a little faster at his approval. It seemed devastating smiles were one trait borne by both cousins. She found it difficult to focus with his full attention directed at her, almost impossible not to gasp at her physical reaction to his potent masculinity.

“I have a young daughter and require help with her.”

“Forgive me, but surely there is no shortage of women willing to accept you as husband.” More candor. This was not the impression she wanted to present, yet she required answers. To her relief, he didn’t take umbrage and merely scrutinized her closely in return.

“My first marriage wasn’t an enjoyable experience. This time I seek a marriage where both parties know their duty from the beginning and are under no illusion as to how the liaison will proceed—the way I want.”

Well, he was blunt too. Jocelyn wrenched her gaze from his face and concentrated on her lightly clasped hands. The romantic part of her faded under reality. This wasn’t a love match. She had to remember that, yet the situation was strange. He hadn’t told her everything. There was more. She lifted her head. “Did you beat your wife?”

His dark brows shot upward. “I’m not a brute.” He half stood as if he intended to leave, and her hand shot out to grasp his forearm. Muscles flexed beneath her fingers, leading her thoughts directly to the marriage bed. Like a hot coal, his heat burned her palm, and she released her hold.

“Forgive me. Please, don’t leave. This is an unusual situation and my nerves are ruling my manners. Stay. Tell me exactly what you expect from me.”

Instead of sitting again, he prowled the parlor, putting her in mind of a caged beast. And, despite her growing alarm that she’d destroyed any chance of a marriage, she couldn’t tear her gaze off him. He was a man in his prime, strong and sure of himself—an attractive quality in a husband. Her breasts prickled against her chemise, and her stays felt suddenly unbearably tight. Heat bloomed between her legs. The unusual reaction took her by surprise.

Mr. Sherbourne ceased his pacing and spun to face her. Determination etched his face, giving him the look of cool marble. “I want a wife who gives her loyalty to me, a woman to raise my child and warm my bed. Someone to instill order in my home and do things the way I direct.”

Jocelyn nodded. That sounded reasonable. “And what would I receive in return?”

“In return, my wife will receive the security of my name and home. She’ll want for nothing, and I hope she’ll find happiness.”

“What about my past relationship with Melburn? If I agree to wed you, there might be times when we socialize with Melburn and his new wife. Will that create difficulties?”

He laughed softly, a gleam entering his eyes. “Are you asking if I’ll experience jealousy?”

“Yes.” Nothing like a little honesty to get to the heart of a matter.

“Melburn and I have discussed this. He told me if you agreed to marry me, you’d also give your loyalty. He said you possess both honor and discretion. Integrity. I hadn’t heard a single rumor of your relationship. This reassures me that we might suit. Will you miss your close…friendship with Melburn?”

“Melburn and I have always been friends. I hope our friendship will continue in the future—in a platonic way, of course. Your cousin is right in that I refuse to play games or pit gentlemen against each other to ensure a better offer or a richer lover. If I agree to become your wife, you’ll receive everything you require in a spouse.”

His brows rose again. “It’s not often a woman surprises me.”

“I’m not an ordinary woman.”

“I’m coming to understand that.”

“Thank you.” Jocelyn found herself drawn to him. Along with his pleasing looks, he bore an air of confidence. But the stillness in him, the faint note of impatience hinted at hidden depths. Winning his friendship and perhaps his love would prove a challenge. Aware of the lengthening silence, she rushed into speech. “Did Melburn tell you about my mother? Her behavior is erratic at times, and she suffers episodes where she has mad fancies. Despite family pressure, I refuse to place her in The Hospital of St. Mary of Bethlehem. If we marry, I’ll expect her to come to live with me.”

He hesitated and acute disappointment gripped her. This point was nonnegotiable. If he didn’t offer her mother protection, she couldn’t accept his proposition.

“Is she violent?”

“No! Not at all. At worst, she shrieks loud enough to deafen everyone in the vicinity. I employ a nurse to oversee her and have found this is a satisfactory solution.”

“Is she likely to harm my daughter?”

“I don’t believe so,” Jocelyn said. “You’re welcome to meet her and judge for yourself. She does become agitated at times, but Tilly is good with her. Melburn will tell you.”

The man stalked another tight circuit of her parlor, dodging an urn of flowers and the settee. “We could keep them apart if problems occurred,” he said, almost talking to himself. “Yes, that should work.” He focused on her then, his deep brown eyes searing through her.

A flutter of something—not fear—stirred in her belly.

“If you accept my proposal, your mother and any of your staff are welcome to accompany you.”

“Thank you. My butler and my mother’s nurse have been with me from the start and are husband and wife. I should like to offer them positions. The rest of the staff will continue to work for the next tenant who rents this house.”

“As it happens, my current butler is past the age of retirement.” One of his wondrous smiles flashed and her breath caught. “He worries about leaving me in the lurch, having been with our family since he was a young boy.”

The glimpse of affection in his voice cheered her. “Melburn didn’t say where you lived.”

“Near the town of Tavistock in Devon.”

“Dartmoor?”

“Yes, I’m a farmer and hold an interest in several mines. We live a simple life, although we socialize with our neighbors. You will find Merrivale much quieter than London.”

A silent question hovered in his words, prompting her to rush into speech. “I have no problems with a country life.” Devon was a long way from London and her two sisters. Their husbands both owned estates in Kent. The distance between Devon and Kent gave her the illusion of safety, especially from rumors about her past. “That sounds satisfactory. You’d better meet my mother.” The poor man deserved to know exactly what he was letting himself in for, although the change of scenery might aid her parent. A thought occurred. “Do you have gardens and a stillroom?”

A bemused expression followed her question. “Yes. Merrivale Manor has extensive gardens. Is that important?”

“My mother enjoys working with herbs and flowers. A garden would help her settle and make her more amenable to a move.”

“So you’re seriously considering my proposition?”

“As long as you don’t take a dislike of my mother when you meet her, I think we’ll deal well together.” A tremor went through Jocelyn. She’d share a bed with this man and perhaps bear his children. “Do you want more children?”

A sensual gleam lit his dark eyes without warning. “Of course.” His gaze traveled to her breasts and lingered before returning to her face. His avid attention left a raft of goose bumps creeping over her arms and legs. Sharing a bed with Mr. Sherbourne wasn’t going to be a hardship.

“Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“No, I think we’ve covered most things. I’ll give you free rein in the manor, and you’ll receive a quarterly allowance.”

A thought occurred. “Do you travel to London often?”

“I don’t enjoy the city. I visit Melburn at his estate in North Devon several times a year. Of course, you would come with me.”

Jocelyn bore a fondness for Melburn, yet she frowned at the disclosure. “I wouldn’t have thought Melburn would want me to meet his wife on a regular basis.”

“Melburn and I discussed this at length. We decided to tell anyone who asks that we met in London. Melburn assures me you’ll do nothing to blacken the Sherbourne name.” Though spoken in a mild voice, his words carried an unpinning of coldness. His expression gave away nothing, yet Jocelyn sensed he’d be a bad man to cross.

“I agree to whatever story you’ve planned,” she said. “I’ll see if my mother has time to say good day.” The entire journey to her mother’s second floor chamber, she thought about Mr. Sherbourne. Jocelyn prayed her mother didn’t take one of her instant aversions, for she’d instinctively liked the man. She wanted to embrace this chance to make a fresh start.

To her relief, Mr. Sherbourne charmed her mother and the pair chatted about gardening and plants for ten minutes before he needed to leave to visit his lawyer. By the time Jocelyn handed him his hat and cane and showed him out, they’d agreed a marriage between them would suit both parties.

The carriage rattled over a rut, jolting the entire vehicle. Jocelyn braced her hand on the interior to hold her position. Once she’d committed to Mr. Sherbourne, affairs moved rapidly. With Melburn’s help, she’d signed a betrothal contract and a few days later, she became Mrs. Leo Sherbourne. An urgent message came from Merrivale, summoning Leo home and he left London the same day, leaving Jocelyn to arrange the move to Devon.