More Than a Mistress by Ann Lethbridge Page A

Caroline and watched the sleigh draw away. ‘How kind of him.’
    ‘Very,’ Caroline said. ‘What is he after?’
    ‘Not me, sadly.’ Dash it. Was she speaking the truth?
    ‘Merry!’ Caroline sounded shocked.
    ‘He offered to help me with the mill owners, that is all.’
    Caro frowned. ‘Won’t that look rather odd?’
    Merry stiffened. Another person who viewed her as beneath a marquis’s touch. ‘Do you think so?’
    ‘Merry, can’t you see? If a man like Tonbridge takes an interest in your affairs, might they not make assumptions about why? Why does he want to help?’
    ‘Out of friendship. Gratitude.’
    Even to Merry’s ears it sounded rather weak. Nothing but the truth would do. ‘He thinks someone tampered with the carriage.’
    Caro pulled her gaze from the slowly diminishing sleigh, her wide eyes searching Merry’s face. ‘Oh, no. Surely not?’
    ‘I think someone wanted to give me a warning, but Tonbridge is taking it more seriously.’
    ‘This must stop.’ Caroline clasped her gloved hands together. ‘First a fire. And now this. We will set up the house somewhere else. I will not endanger your life.’
    ‘Do you think it will be different elsewhere?’
    ‘I won’t have your death, or your injury, on my conscience.’
    ‘It is not your decision.’
    Fists clenched, Caroline spun away. ‘I will have nothing to do with it.’ It was the first time they had ever argued. Merry felt quite adrift, as if she’d lost her friend.
    ‘Caro, we can’t just give up.’
    Caro turned around slowly. ‘Why not?’
    ‘A Draycott never admits defeat.’
    ‘Never is a long time. Please, Merry. We will find another way. We certainly don’t need to involve a man like Tonbridge in our affairs.’
    Merry stared at her friend. Perhaps she was right, but it felt galling to give in to threats.
    Caro turned to watch the sleigh in the distance. ‘Oh, good Lord, is that Thomas standing up?’
    ‘Yes,’ Merry said, nodding. ‘Charlie seems to like children, doesn’t he?’
    ‘Charlie?’
    ‘We are friends.’ Dash it, did she sound too defensive? ‘I told him to call me Merry the first day we met.’
    The suspicious gleam in Caro’s eyes made her skin itch as if she’d done something wrong.
    ‘Be careful, Merry,’ Caroline said, shading her eyes with her hand. ‘A man with his kind of charm and wealth is used to getting his own way, and it will be for no one’s benefit but his own.’
    Merry’s stomach dipped. Few men did anything out of altruism. He would want something in return. Caro put an arm around her shoulder. It was an unusual display of affection. ‘Tell him you don’t need his help. Like all men, he’ll want to take control. We don’t need a man to solve our problems. We will deal with it.’
    Caro was right. Of course she was. What on earth had she been thinking? She’d never needed anyone’s help since Grandfather’s death, despite her mother’s family trying to insert themselves into her business. She would tell him not to bother with the councillors or the magistrate, that she was giving up her plan. She’d wait until he left before she tackled the problem.
    She and Caro would manage.

    All through the dinner Caro kept looking from Merry to Charlie, acting the chaperon. Looking for signs of misconduct on Tonbridge’s part, no doubt. Merry sighed. With no opportunity to tell Lord Tonbridge her decision since returning from the drive, Merry kept her discourse so carefully light that her head ached.
    ‘Shall we take tea in the drawing room?’ she said brightly, after Gribble cleared the table of all but a decanter of port. ‘You could bring your port there, Lord Tonbridge, unless you prefer drinking in solitary state. I am sorry we have no other gentlemen visiting to keep you amused.’
    ‘You do yourself a disservice, Miss Draycott. Your conversation keeps me well entertained.’
    ‘I am a chatterbox, in other words.’ She almost poked out her tongue at him, but