The Flawed Mistress (The Summerville Journals) Read Online Free PDF Page A

but
that was one thing he could not buy.  The King had managed to get one;
perhaps he thought himself as important as the King.
       
I was fifteen when I became a widow for the first time, when word reached me
that the Earl had died after a fall from his horse.  I felt nothing except
a little concern that the King might marry me off to someone else, someone who
had some other use for me.
       
I had thought at least that now I would not have to depend upon a man to
survive, that the Earl would have left his fortune and house to me, but even in
that I was mistaken.  It seemed that he had left the bulk of his fortune
to a distant cousin and the house would also go to him when I no longer needed
it to live in.  So, even in death he was punishing me because of my
uncle's deception.
       
It was not long after his death that suitors began calling.  I have no
idea how they knew about me or where I lived, but it seemed that word had got
around court circles that the very beautiful Countess of Connaught was in need of a new husband.
       
The first one to call took me by surprise as I had not expected it.  The
servant showed him in, announced him as the Marquis of Davenport and brought
refreshments.  He was about forty years old with greying hair and many
wrinkles.  He also had a bulging abdomen that stuck out beneath his
doublet and a double chin.
       
 I was still naive, despite my experiences, and had no real idea of what
he wanted.
       
"My Lady," he said at once, taking my hand and kissing it.  I
could not avoid stiffening somewhat at his touch and I know he must have
noticed it but he chose to ignore it and kept hold of my hand.  "It
is true what they have been saying; you are very beautiful."
       
Once more those words transported me back to a dark carriage and a leering
stranger.  I pulled my hand away and indicated a seat, as far away from
mine as possible.
       
"I have come to offer my services, My Lady," he began.  "I
realise that you are recently widowed but enquiries have revealed that you have
no male relative on whom you can depend to help you through this sad
time."
       
"I have an uncle, Sir," I replied.
       
"So I have heard, but he cannot escort you to the palace and I have heard
you have no one else.  I was hoping we might become friends."
       
"I have no need nor desire to go to the
palace," I told him. 
       
He smiled benignly.  "You say that now, my dear, but you will soon
miss the gaiety and the excitement."
        As always, nobody was interested in my wishes, only their
own.  
       
"Who sent you, Sir?"  I demanded, feeling the tears spring to my
eyes.  "Who told you I might be in need of your services?"
       
I asked the question because I was sure it was Uncle Stephen, meddling in my
life again, trying to find me another title to marry.  I was shocked by
the Marquis' reply.
       
"His Majesty the King asked me to come," he replied proudly. 
        "The King?   Why?"
       
"My wife died a few months ago and His Majesty was kind enough to think of
you as a possible match.  I know you are recently widowed and it is too
early to think of such things, but I thought it best to introduce myself before
some other fellow snapped you up."
       
I could scarcely believe my ears.  Was I to spend all my life at the beck
and call of every man whose attention I caught?  I stood quickly and went
to the door, where I called for Alice, my senior maidservant.
       
"You will leave, please Sir," I told the Marquis.  "You may
thank His Majesty for his concern, but inform him that I have no intention of
marrying again, ever."
       
He shook his head slowly and smiled, a smile that told
me he did not take me seriously, that I was in mourning and would soon come
round to his way of thinking.
       
Of course, my wishes were of no importance to anyone.  More titled
gentlemen appeared at my door, some young, some old, but all with those same
words on their