A Most Demanding Mistress (Fashionably Impure Book 2) (12 page)

“You can’t afford such a finely feathered
miss.”

“That is a matter which concerns only the
young lady and I.”

“She is Winterton’s natural daughter.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And Winterton hates the chit.”

That brought Adrian’s head up. How did Ruel
know that? “He has no warm feelings for her, that much is clear.”

“You don’t need problems with Winterton.”

“I can handle Winterton.”

Ruel studied him closely. “Winterton has
disappeared, unexpectedly.”

“Perhaps he is traveling.”

“Perhaps.” Ruel studied him several more
moments, his gaze boring into Adrian. “I hear you’re becoming quite friendly
with Stephen Drake.”

“I wouldn’t characterize it as ‘quite
friendly’.”

“The man is dangerous and you’d do well to
avoid him.”

Chapter
Nine

Adrian couldn’t deny a sense of pride as he walked
about Vauxhall Gardens with Miranda. It seemed nearly the last opportunity to
enjoy such a stroll before winter set in for certain. And the bright autumn
foliage and architecture gave them something pleasant upon which to base their
conversation. Something to give Miranda some enjoyable distraction.

She was still not happy with him over his
decisions regarding Davey’s living arrangements.

“Miss Jones! Miss Jones!”

Stunned at the sound of that boyish voice,
Adrian down and into his youngest son’s eyes. Davey was practically beaming
with joy. Dorothy had laid her hands on him, restraining him, for it was clear
he meant to run to Adrian—

No, not Adrian.

But Miranda.

The child had met Miranda at Applewaite. How
wise had that been? Certainly his uncle and even the likes of Jonathon Lloyd
had called him into account for such scandalous daring as to allow his sons to
meet Miranda.

But it was not as though Miranda was a
streetwalker and his sons would eventually learn of such women and the manner
of how noblemen like himself kept them. It was simply the way of the world.

As it was, he had simply introduced Miranda
as a “friend.”

Yet, Davey had discovered her in Adrian’s
bed one night when awakened by a nightmare, so perhaps Adrian had not been so
wise after all…

No matter now. If Adrian had made a mistake,
it couldn’t be undone. And apparently, Davey had not forgotten Miranda and
still held her in rather a high regard.

“Good afternoon, Lady Chadwick,” Adrian said
coolly, his mind still struggling with the aspect of meeting her here, today.

When he was in company with his mistress.

Damned awkward.

It couldn’t possibly be such a coincidence.
And Davey was not supposed to leave his bedchamber, much less leave the house.

But he couldn’t deny his pleasure to see his
son and if he immediately rounded on Dorothy and demanded an explanation, Davey
would be confused, upset. The boy already had fragile nerves. So, Adrian hid
his rising ire and with no thought for dignity, he dropped to his knees and
held his arms out.

Dorothy frowned and released the boy.

Davey launched himself with force into
Adrian’s arms. “Papa! Papa!” he piped. “What are you doing here? I didn’t
expect to see you today!”

Davey showed considerably more spirit than
he had in some weeks. Adrian had not seen his son’s eyes shine with happiness
since…

Well, since the day Miranda had left
Applewaite.

The child glanced up at Miranda. “Miss
Jones! Have I
missed
you.”

Miranda smiled down. “How are you, Davey?”

“I’ve been ill,” Davey replied with the
exuberant bluntness of a small boy.

“Have you?” Miranda’s voice rang with soft
concern.

Adrian became aware of Dorothy glaring at
Miranda.

No love was lost between the two women. That
much was for certain.

But it brought to mind again, what the devil
was Dorothy doing here today with his son? For God’s sake, the doctor had
ordered complete quiet and bed rest for Davey.

This was no coincidence.

And Adrian wondered, not for the first time,
had Dorothy placed a spy in his household? How had she known he would be here
today?

What was her purpose?

Yet, he didn’t like to think her capable of
such scheming. She was a kind, practical woman. She’d been his friend for
years. Yes, his romantic attraction towards Miranda had ended their
affaire
.

But it didn’t change his friendly regard for
his former lover, his late wife’s sister.

In any event, what would be her purpose to
contrive to be here?

No, matter, she had contrived to be here.

Had she done out of concern for Davey? Was
she, like Miranda, trying to convince him to take a more active, daily role in
the boy’s life?

Well, that was a possibility. In fact, it
was the only logical one he could find. He frowned. Damned women and their
interfering ways. Yes, he wanted his son with him. But he knew it wasn’t for
the best.

Davey squirmed in his embrace, and Adrian
loosened his hold. Davey went straight to Miranda. “That’s a lovely hat, Miss
Jones. The color is most becoming,” Davey said in a slightly wooden tone, one
that made it clear that he was repeating a polite conversation he’d overheard.

Adrian couldn’t help grinning. Couldn’t help
sharing that grin with Dorothy. But Dorothy was stone-faced, her eyes wide and
her face considerably paled.

“I am so hungry,” Miranda said, in a
confessional tone as she bent down towards Davey. “But I hear the food here is
hit or miss. Have you ever eaten here, Lord Davey?”

She used the affectionate title that the
servants used towards his son.

A huge smile split Davey’s face. “I like
roast beef!”

Adrian was startled. He’d not seen Davey
show any enthusiasm for food in over a month or more.

“Is it on the menu here?” Miranda sounded
concerned.

“I don’t know, I have never supped here,”
Davey admitted.

“We’re not eating here,” Dorothy said, in a
clipped tone.

“Davey’s doctors think a diet of bread and
water is best for now,” Adrian explained to Miranda.

“Bread and water?” Miranda blinked several
times. “That’s no fit sustenance for a growing boy.” She frowned. “It rather
sounds like he’s being punished.”

Dorothy’s face flamed. “The finest doctors
in Mayfair have attended to this child. I think they know best.”

Miranda touched Davey’s cheek and the boy
practically glowed with pleasure.

Her fingers traced the hollow there. Her
frown deepened. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Last night,” Davey said. “I had bread and
water with my nanny.”

“If you had roast beef now, would you eat
it?” Miranda asked.

“Would I?!” Davey exclaimed. “I could eat a
whole plateful!”

“Why are you tormenting the poor child like this?”
Dorothy said, through an obviously tensed jaw. “He cannot possibly eat beef.”

But suddenly, Adrian wasn’t so sure that his
son wouldn’t benefit from some solid food like meat. “Maybe he really would
eat,” he said to Dorothy.

“And he will have a grand stomachache to
show for it.”

Adrian found himself willing to risk that.
His son, had to eat again, didn’t he? And Miranda was exactly right. Weeks and
weeks of bread and water had done nothing to cure whatever was ailing Davey’s
stomach and it was really no fit sustenance for a small boy.

Miranda looked down at Davey’s face, so
different now than when she’d first met him. His formerly chubby, rosy cheeks
were now hollow and pale. Dark circles lay like smudges under his eyes. A lump
swelled and burned her throat. She closed her eyes, briefly and swallowed hard.
If this little boy wanted roast beef, he would have it.

Miranda would allow no one to get in the way
of her procuring it for him.

Adrian was arguing the matter with Dorothy,
so intent on the issue that Miranda took the opportunity and grasped Davey’s
hand.

“Come along now, we’ll see about getting
some roast beef,” she said in cheerful tones.

His eyes grew wide with delight, and he
quickly followed her.

She heard Dorothy, calling angrily after
them. She ignored it and just kept walking, a little faster, with Davey’s hand
securely held in hers.

* * * *

Aware of Dorothy Chadwick, sitting apart
from them with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, Miranda slowly ate her
meal, tasting none of it. Beside her, Davey chewed noisily, visibly enjoying
his whole serving of beef. And then he inserted himself between Adrian and
Miranda and happily accepted more than half of her portion as well, grinning
ear to ear as she offered it to him.

With a sigh, Davey sat back and placed his
hand on his stomach then looked up at Adrian. “I wish we could live like this
all the time.” He paused, a sad expression darkening his face, a little
miniature of Carrville’s. “I wish that I could live with you and Miss Jones
like we did at Applewaite.”

Applewaite came out sounding a little more
like able-wait.

But his meaning was clear.

Dorothy gave an outraged gasp, and she
turned a fearsome glare on Adrian. “You actually
lived
with Miranda at
Applewaite whilst Davey was in your care?”

Adrian cast a sideways glance at Davey.
“Careful, Dorothy, he doesn’t realize what it means and he won’t unless you—”

“I cannot believe my own ears!” Dorothy’s
voice was a strident whisper.

“I didn’t have any stomachaches when I slept
with you and Miss Jones,” Davey added. “I wish we could live that way all the
time.”

Oh Lord. From the mouths of babes. Miranda
felt herself vacillating between panic and a desire laugh hysterically.

It was just one of those moments.

“Oh my God!” Dorothy said, more loudly this
time.

Adrian rubbed his chin for a moment. “Now
don’t go all hysterical, Dorothy. He’s just a child. He doesn’t know.”

“You took him into your bed with your whor—”

“Dorothy!” Adrian thundered, rising to sit up
straight and glowered back at Dorothy. “He had a nightmare, and he wandered
into my chamber. He saw nothing untoward. He will think nothing of it, or at
least he had thought nothing of it until you made an issue of it.”

“You should have never had him in the same
house with
her
.”

“It simply happened that way. She’d been
ill—”

Dorothy’s body went rigid, her face stark
white with rage. ‘Oh, yes, her great illness, I remember. Of course, she had to
share your bed! Because of course, there are no other suitable beds at
Applewaite!”

“He’s my son.”

Miranda breathed an inward sigh to see such
passion from Adrian regarding his ownership of his son. She had wondered if he
cared at all or if he intended to spend the whole of Davey’s childhood with the
boy being bounced from household to household, never really staying or becoming
close with the one person who loved him most of all.

“That’s my sister’s child. We all decided,
after Jane’s death, what was best for her boys.” Dorothy replied. “Now you’re
back frequent, excessive drink, and you keep company with your night bird.”
Scorn dripped from her tone. “I’ll be damned if I’ll stand by and—”

“He’s my son. I’ll decide what is best for
him.”

Adrian and Dorothy glared at each other,
remaining silent for several moments.

Davey gave a miserable little moan then
snuggled closer to Miranda’s side. She put a hand on his cheek and bent close,
making a sibilant sound meant to soothe him.

“Look at Davey now,” Dorothy said, turning
to glare at Miranda. “Are you satisfied? He looks as though he were about to
get a stomachache.”

Miranda lifted her chin. “I think he’s just
upset that the two of you are quarrelling.”

“I can’t believe you allowed that woman her
way to give him the beef. She’s no doctor. She’s not even a mother. What does
she know about what is best for him?”

“Here, I thought the boy wasn’t to leave his
bed,” Adrian replied, dryly.

“He appears to have suffered no
ill-effects,” Dorothy said.

“Nor has he yet suffered any real adverse
effects from the beef.”

“Well, it won’t be you coping with it, will
you? He shall go home with me, and we know what happens in the night, don’t
we?”

“He’ll go home with me,” Adrian said,
resolutely. “And if there are ill-effects, I shall be the one to have to cope.”

“What?” Dorothy blurted.

“It’s time that Davey abided elsewhere.”

“You-you blame
me
?” Dorothy asked,
her expression aghast. “I have only done what the doctors have suggested.”

“No, I don’t. I just think it is high time I
paid far closer attention to Davey. A little common sense seems to have worked
wonders.” He reached and ruffled Davey’s hair. “As well as some fresh air and
roast beef.”

* * * *

“I hate to quarrel with Dorothy,” Adrian
said in a low tone as he watched Dorothy leave the box, his expression grim. “I
know she’s still trying to come to terms with Jane’s death. It cannot be easy
to lose a sister so early in one’s life.”

Miranda said nothing. Dorothy Chadwick did
not interest her. At least not at this moment. She was too busy watching Davey
eat some apple pie and apparently enjoying it very much.