His Michaelmas Mistress Read Free

worried, her brother actually looked concerned as well, and they all called to her anxiously, imploring her to stop and come back. She couldn’t stop now. She couldn’t go back. The only way she could secure her happiness was to keep going forward. In this case, she had to march to her own tune—no one else’s.  
    The tongues of Castleton would be wagging now, and she could do nothing to stop the gossipmongers, so she might as well feed their fire.
    “Where to, my lady?” the coachman asked.
    “Wilton Park,” she said softly.
    Tonight was supposed to be her wedding night, and now…now that was all bloody well shot to hell.
    If she couldn’t be his wife—mayhap, she could be his mistress.

Chapter Two
     
    Freddie was in high dudgeon.
    He felt like getting ape-drunk and possibly going out and shooting something, and then, retiring to bed. He trudged through the grand manor house that he’d bought and painfully decorated with Julia’s assistance.
    This wasn’t his house, this was their house. It was a love nest, and now…it meant little to him.
    Julia was lost to him.
    The pretty furniture Julia had selected mocked him. She had called it Chippendale. And they had some Adam style stuff as well, and if the ruddy things hadn’t cost him such a pretty penny, he would have been tempted to have a bloody bonfire tonight.
    Maids and footmen ducked out of his way, running for sanctuary back where they were allowed to live in the grand house. If Tiny was here, he’d be with them, most likely. And, sometimes he felt as if he should go with the servants and retire from the stuffiness that Julia’s world sometimes held.
    He was a pretender. He was a fool. This wasn’t his world, and he hadn’t been more aware of that than today.
    Seeing that toff Lord Charles objecting to his marriage to Julia had rung that home. He was just a lowborn bastard. He was a gutter rat, and he shouldn’t attempt to be anything else. He expected that his mates would retire to Maidstone Manor tonight, or they would go to stay with Iris and Lewis at the Estate they had recently purchased Wylye Hall. It had been built in the time of King George II, and it was a beautiful palatial house.
    Damnation.
    He wanted something to bloody well hit. He needed something to bash, and nothing around him fit that bill. Lord Charles was who he really wanted to bash. H wanted to draw his cork, and get into a mill with him, but that was out of the question. He was supposed to be a gentleman now, and gentlemen didn’t behave in that manner. Oh, no, they minded their manners. He was supposed to be the better man. After all, Julia had loved Lord Charles first.
    He, on the other hand, was the man she’d settled for. He wasn’t her first love, and he wasn’t even her last love. He was the man she’d pretended to love, while trying to forget the man who haunted her every waking and dreaming hour.
    And really, what else should he expect?
    He’d been a bloody fool. He’d fallen for her slum, and let her give him Spanish coin. He should have known it was all fustian nonsense. He should have known she never could love a man such as him. He wasn’t from her world…and he could never fit in, no matter how hard he tried—he would always be an outsider looking in.
    “Someone get me some bloody beer. I shall be in the Billiards Room playing Devil Amongst the Tailors,” he bellowed, his voice echoed throughout the large house.
    “Yes, my lord,” a footman said, running to do as he bid.
    He didn’t know why he had such an extensive staff. Probably because Julia had insisted. She was used to having an army of servants around her, and when she married, he knew that she wanted to keep that kind of life. Fortunately, he could well afford it. He didn’t think he’d ever have to worry about money again. He’d come a long way from his days as a grubby little bastard, where he’d lived in squalid conditions that would have horrified Julia’s delicate sensibilities.
    If