Mr. Trelawney's Proposal. Mary Brendan
Nash was a lovely woman…he had seen her once or twice and had drawn the only logical conclusion he could for his late client’s continuing aid and protection. This new lord of the manor seemed also to have taken an immediate personal interest in her. It was no concern of his…but she was very beautiful…
Luke shoved back in his chair and stood up. He walked to the window and stared out, appearing oblivious to his brother barely a yard away, even though Ross’s anxious hazel eyes followed his movements. But Luke was peripherally aware of Willoughby behind him, gathering together his papers and stuffing them abruptly into his case in readiness to depart.
A hard, humourless smile curved Luke’s mouth as he finally allowed himself to concentrate fully on Rebecca. It was all beginning to fall into place. What a gullible fool he’d been and that rankled. Everyone knew him for a cynic. No wonder she had been prepared to speak to Robin Ramsden on his behalf when believing he’d been discovered trespassing. Using charm and influence on the lord of this Manor was, by all accounts, nothing new for her. Well, that would suit him damn fine. There was no need for that to change.
Whatever Robin Ramsden had provided for her over the years, he knew he could improve on…a thousandfold. And he’d believed her to be some chaste provincial maid he would need to proposition with utmost care. She’d cried on learning of Robin Ramsden’s death. Was it the man or the meal ticket she mourned? he wondered. Perhaps it was the prospect of losing her home…the schoolbuilding. What was she teaching there, in any case? If provocative Miss Mayhew, the young temptress he recalled from the woodland pond, was an untried schoolgirl, then…Ross was teetotal.
What did it matter? Rebecca had obviously fallen on hard times five years ago and had survived in any way she could. It was a commonplace tale.
He had already decided to take her with him and this changed nothing. Logically it made things easier, he acknowledged with a callous smile. He could now proposition her without risking having her outraged or hysterical. Even enthusiastic virgins were damn hard to tutor and sometimes barely worth the trouble. By the time they were adaptable and accomplished he was usually bored and looking elsewhere.
He thought of Wenna, something he hadn’t done for a week or more. He was bored and looking elsewhere, he acknowledged sourly, yet she had always been the perfect mistress. Passionate, obliging, skilful, discreet, faithful…the list was endless. One of his large, dark hands curled into a fist. She’d suited him fine until he’d come here.
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