Read Online A Proper Mistress by Shannon Donnelly - Free Book Online Page B

to feel a sense of shame? That was not what he had wanted to hire.
    She tried to tuck the small notebook behind her skirts, but he took her hand, asking, "What's this?"
    Tugging from his grasp, she glanced at the other woman. "Mrs. Weld, would you bring coffee and ale, and some more of that ham? Would you like bread and toasting folks as well?" she asked Theo, turning back to him, a smile in place, but also moving away, that book of hers now behind her skirts.
    "Blazes take the toast. Beef and ale will do for me."
    Mrs. Weld bobbed a curtsy and hurried away to bring the food, and Molly used the chance, he noticed, to place herself on the opposite side of the table from him. Well, at least she seemed to be something of a natural actress, for she was taking this acting like a lady quite seriously. Perhaps the crimson on her cheeks had been from the pleasure of seeing him—a nice thought that.
    He leaned his palms on the back of a straight-backed wooden chair. "Well, my lady-wife, or soon to be so at least for my father's notice, you had best seat yourself, unless it's your wish I eat standing."
    She sat down, and he did the same, eyeing the book that she had in her lap now, "And what in blazes were you writing?" He frowned as a thought struck. "You aren't one of those bookish types who go about taking down everything everyone says in some ghastly diary?"
    Stiffening, she glared at him as if he had insulted her. "Bookish? Certainly not. And all I was taking down was Mrs. Weld's recipe for smoking ham. If you had some yourself, you'd see why I asked for it."
    Eyes narrowed, he stared at her. Ham? Why in blazes would a strumpet care about ham? Or was she making some sort of ribald play on words? If she was, it certainly hadn't come with any suggestive looks. So that led him back to wondering why a bird of paradise, such as her, would care about ham?
    Her nose wrinkled, and she said, her tone clipped, "Do you think a woman of easy virtue to be a woman of no virtue at all? I'll have you know that all Sallie's girls can set a tidy stitch, and they at least know how to boil water for tea. Do you think they—we all sit about thinking only of...of...of cavorting?"
    He grinned. "Cavorting? Come now, why not use a nice old Anglo-Saxon word for it? Or don't you like to be blunt about your trade?"
    She blushed fiercer than before. "Even a working girl has to consider domestic necessities."
    "Such as recipes?"
    "I like food," she said, her chin lifting and her green eyes glittering hot.
    His let his glance stray to her plump curves. "Well, you need not eat me. I've nothing to complain of in that. I like a girl with a healthy appetite." His grin widened, and he turned as the innkeeper's wife came back, a tray in hand with a platter of cold beef and a pewter mug of ale. "Speaking of such—Mrs. Weld, you are an angel to be so prompt. And my Molly tells me I must try some of your ham."
    Molly watched him charm her and flirt with innkeeper's wife until he had her blushing as well, and giving his hand a playful slap before she left to fetch for him. That smile of his, Molly decided, probably got him his way in most things. That and those dark, dramatic looks of his. But when he grinned, his expression did away with the soulful, romantic impression stirred by that handsome face, the one that made him look angelic.
    Dangerously so.
    It would be a mistake, she knew, to ever think this one an innocent lad.
    Almost as if reading her thoughts, he winked at her over his tankard of ale. It was as if a hand clenched around her throat. She glanced away, face warm. This whole adventure might have been easier had he been as unappealing as the florid banker that Sallie had once introduced to her. Of course, it would not have been as much fun. Nor would she have taken it on.
    Her lips curved up.
    My Molly.
    How nice that sounded. But she really must remember that she was his only because of the fifty pounds he had paid for her. No, not for her. For her time,