The Earl's Mistress Read Online Free PDF Page B

tastes which render him unfit to—”
    Isabella threw up a hand. “Ma’am, you need say no more,” she said quietly. “I am painfully aware of Everett’s predilections, having shared his roof during my come-out.”
    “Ah, I see,” the marchioness said, carefully folding her hands over the poodle. “I feared, my dear Mrs. Aldridge, you mightn’t understand the depths of his depravity.”
    “I’m not that naive,” said Isabella darkly. “I wouldn’t allow the ugliest scullery maid to live under my cousin’s hand, let alone a pretty child like Jemima or Georgina. But Lady Petershaw, I’ve no intention of marrying again.”
    The marchioness opened her hands expansively. “But I cannot see, my dear Mrs. Aldridge, as you’ve much choice.”
    “Very little, it’s true.” Isabella looked at the floor. “But you must know there were rumors I had a hand in Richard’s death.”
    “Bah!” The marchioness dropped her hands. “Entirely disproven. No, outright lies . I rooted them out before employing you.”
    “What if Lord Fenster should stir them up again?” said Isabella quietly. “The few gentlemen who remember me do look at me a little strangely, ma’am, when they pass me on the street.”
    “It has been a long time,” the marchioness countered.
    “But has it been long enough?” Isabella jerked her gaze up. “Tell me honestly, Lady Petershaw. Has it? What man of wealth would take to wife an impoverished widow however faintly blackened by rumor? Particularly when she has two children in tow? I cannot even secure a governess’s post. How will I make a decent marriage?”
    “Well, some gentleman might—”
    “But will that gentleman be sane ?” Isabella interjected stridently. “Will he be sober and decent—and will he remain that way? Will he be kind to my sisters? And will he leave me provided for, or will I be doing this again in five years’ time? No, Lady Petershaw, I will never trust another man to look after me. I won’t . A husband—oh, a husband would own me . You know as well as I what the law says.”
    Lady Petershaw fell quiet for a moment. “I never did take you, Mrs. Aldridge, for a fool,” she finally said. “Yes, it is far better to use men for what they can give you than to surrender yourself to their use permanently.”
    “I have often marveled you married Petershaw at all,” Isabella confessed.
    “Two barren wives will make a nobleman shockingly eager,” said the lady dryly. “And I was not such a fool, my dear, as to enter that union without a good solicitor and an ironclad understanding. You, however . . . alas, you simply have no leverage. You’ve only your looks, which, while prodigious, will get a decent woman only so far.”
    “But what if I were not so decent?” Isabella blurted the words, her gaze fixed upon the dogs drowsing at their feet. “What if I did not marry but instead struck . . . a sort of bargain?”
    “A bargain?” Curiosity laced the marchioness’s voice.
    Isabella forced her gaze up; forced herself to own her next words.
    “What if I were a courtesan, Lady Petershaw?” she asked, her voice surprisingly strong. “No, more of a mistress—one of those beautiful women that rich men keep tucked quietly aside for their pleasure? You . . . why, you know people who live that life—and people who broker such arrangements. Don’t you?”
    “Well . . . yes.” For once, Lady Petershaw looked nonplused. “But what is the difference, my dear, in that life and the one your Northumbrian gentleman just offered you?”
    “He threatened to seduce his governess.” . . . and nearly got away with it, too, she silently added . “No, I’m talking about a . . . a private understanding—one in which I have some say—with a discreet gentleman, away from prying eyes. Many men purchase country cottages for their mistresses, do they not?”
    “Yes, commonly.” Lady Petershaw’s eyes were still round with disbelief. “But these are not