Free More Than a Mistress by Ann Lethbridge Page B

my plan, they would be forced to give in. Then you would cry off.’
    ‘A business arrangement,’ he said. Irrationally he felt a sense of disgruntlement. An odd reaction, when he’d been ready to flee at the word marriage . He shook his head to clear it of such stupid thoughts.
    It had taken weeks of argument to convince the duke to accept Charlie’s promise to make a suitable marriage in exchange for Robert’s forgiveness. To go back on his word would be cruel to his mother as well as dishonourable. He had to be practical.
    Guilt weighed him down. No matter how much he wanted to help Merry, this was not the way.
    Not because he couldn’t see himself married to Merry, he acknowledged with surprise, but because of what it would mean for his family if he broke his agreement with the duke.
    She nibbled her bottom lip and then let go a long breath with a shake of her head. ‘It would never work anyway.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘No one would believe a man of your station would stoop to wed me. Not unless you were in desperate financial straits.’
    He raised a brow, considering her words.
    ‘Well, they wouldn’t,’ she said. ‘Look at the way you reacted.’
    He felt insulted by her quick dismissal. But she was right. He’d instantly hunkered down behind his defensive walls. Yet he could not leave any woman defenceless, especially not this one, not now when his suspicions of foul play were confirmed.
    He turned the sleigh in through the gates of Draycott House—the carved words on the pillar announced the name. Beneath the name was a coat of arms. A kingly red deer surrounded by ivy. It looked vaguely familiar.
    ‘I will speak to these mill owners on your behalf.’
    She gave a small shake of her head, a wry smile twisting her lips. ‘As my friend, or even as the son of a duke, you would have no real influence. They will meet you individually, agree with everything you say, but behind closed doors, they will do as they please.’
    How she must hate the exclusion. ‘Then I will speak to the constable. And the magistrate.’
    ‘You are most kind.’
    She couldn’t have sounded more unconvinced. He wanted to throttle her pretty little neck. Or kiss her pursed lips. Neither one of which would help matters.
    ‘Don’t underestimate the force of the Mountford name.’
    ‘Oh, I won’t.’
    The dryness in her voice grated. He had the feeling she felt let down, but she really didn’t know the power he wielded as heir to a dukedom.
    ‘Oh, my word!’ she exclaimed, sounding shocked and amused.
    Charlie followed the direction of her gaze. In front of the house, on an expanse of snow-covered lawn interrupted only by the odd ancient elm and cypress, several figures darted about with cloaks flying. Snowballs flew through the air. The sound of laughter and shrieks of joy pierced the quiet. There was a smaller figure, too. A child?
    ‘Your ladies are out on a spree,’ he said.
    ‘I suppose Caro decided they needed some exercise in the fresh air.’
    ‘They look like any other young women when faced with sunshine and an unexpected fall of snow.’
    ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Hard to imagine how awful their lives must have been before.’
    For a moment, Charlie tried to imagine what it must be like, selling your body to live. Hell, wasn’t that what his father wanted him to do when he married Lady Allison in order to expand the Mountford influence? The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.
    One of the women collapsed in a heap of giggles on a snow bank. Another dropped a snowball on her face. Mrs Falkner— Charlie could make her out quite clearly now dressed in dark grey—called to the small boy.
    All the women were laughing and giggling. He guessed there were few times in their lives when they’d been as happy as they appeared this afternoon. Something about it felt right and good. One of them picked up the boy and whirled him around.
    ‘Do you think they would like a sleigh ride? Around the lawn?’
    Merry’s face