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Authors: Make Me Yours (v5.0)
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better. The minute Jack’s touch reminded her she was a woman, that time of healing and illusion of simplicity was over.
This was the hand that Fortune had dealt her. She had to find a way to navigate its trials and temptations and make a new life for herself. And what if this mistress debacle was itself an instrument of Fate? What if she was meant to start again with one of the potential husbands she met on this journey? She pulled Jack’s list from her purse and stared at the names with an ache around her heart: men who would marry a prince’s mistress for favor and financial gain. She took a deep breath.
Something told her she’d best prepare for the worst.
The coach slowed sometime later, and she leaned to the window. They had entered a stream of traffic approaching the city.
The change in motion awakened Jack; he stirred, sat up and stretched. His eyes had the heaviness of a man fresh from bed and his dark hair was mussed just enough to make him seem appealingly vulnerable. Accessible. Fortunately, Mercy awoke as well and complained that sleeping twisted like a corkscrew had set her joints aching.
“Whew!” The old woman wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?”
Apparently, it was Lincoln. Everything about the city, a medieval cathedral town and woolen center whose fortunes had risen and fallen through the centuries, was washed a smelly, sooty gray. Mariah winced as she imagined living in a place where the air had a color and carried a perpetual tang of iron and oil. Lincolnshire’s seat had come alive once more with the development of Britain’s industrial might, but at a price.
They stopped first at the White Hart Hotel in Bailgate, near the cathedral, to secure lodgings and learn where they might find the legal firm employing Thomas Bickering. The manager of the venerable brick inn directed them to a district where banks and solicitor firms were located.
Leaving Mercy at the hotel to settle her things into her room, Mariah set off with Jack to find Yarborough Street.
“I’ll go in first,” Jack said, rigid now and curt, “and tell him—”
“Nothing,” she countered, having to work to keep up with his long strides. “You’ll not say a word about why we are here. I need to see what sort of man he is apart from royal bribes.”
“I should think that would already be more than plain,” he bit out. “He’s the kind of man who seizes an opportunity when it presents itself.”
She halted on the pavement, sensing that he’d revealed something about himself. When he realized she had stopped, he turned to look at her.
“Like you?” Sharpening her gaze, she tried to slice through the male bluster of duty to crown and country to glimpse the man beneath. “I’ve been wondering, Jack, what do you get out of this? What opportunity does settling a royal mistress in the prince’s bed open for you? ”
He reddened, and a muscle flexed in his jaw. Without a word he turned and struck off down the street again.
Well. She stood watching his broad shoulders trying to shake off some of the conflict they carried. He seemed to have a conscience after all. He knew that the position they’d forced her into wasn’t right. It didn’t change anything, but that discovery felt like a small victory.
They soon found a firm called Halliwell, Soames, Make-peace and Bickering; it turned out to be just a few doors away from a stationer’s shop where they stopped to inquire. The clerk, an older woman, said that the shop supplied office materials to the firm and, without being asked, revealed that Thomas Bickering had just been made a partner there.
Jack thanked her and turned to go, but Mariah lingered topurchase some new pencils and another writing pad, and asked the clerk if she were acquainted with Mr. Bickering.
“I am. A fine young man.” There was genuine admiration in the woman’s eyes. “Alwus tips ’is hat to women…ladies and shop girls alike.”
“A ringing endorsement from the
This was the hand that Fortune had dealt her. She had to find a way to navigate its trials and temptations and make a new life for herself. And what if this mistress debacle was itself an instrument of Fate? What if she was meant to start again with one of the potential husbands she met on this journey? She pulled Jack’s list from her purse and stared at the names with an ache around her heart: men who would marry a prince’s mistress for favor and financial gain. She took a deep breath.
Something told her she’d best prepare for the worst.
The coach slowed sometime later, and she leaned to the window. They had entered a stream of traffic approaching the city.
The change in motion awakened Jack; he stirred, sat up and stretched. His eyes had the heaviness of a man fresh from bed and his dark hair was mussed just enough to make him seem appealingly vulnerable. Accessible. Fortunately, Mercy awoke as well and complained that sleeping twisted like a corkscrew had set her joints aching.
“Whew!” The old woman wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?”
Apparently, it was Lincoln. Everything about the city, a medieval cathedral town and woolen center whose fortunes had risen and fallen through the centuries, was washed a smelly, sooty gray. Mariah winced as she imagined living in a place where the air had a color and carried a perpetual tang of iron and oil. Lincolnshire’s seat had come alive once more with the development of Britain’s industrial might, but at a price.
They stopped first at the White Hart Hotel in Bailgate, near the cathedral, to secure lodgings and learn where they might find the legal firm employing Thomas Bickering. The manager of the venerable brick inn directed them to a district where banks and solicitor firms were located.
Leaving Mercy at the hotel to settle her things into her room, Mariah set off with Jack to find Yarborough Street.
“I’ll go in first,” Jack said, rigid now and curt, “and tell him—”
“Nothing,” she countered, having to work to keep up with his long strides. “You’ll not say a word about why we are here. I need to see what sort of man he is apart from royal bribes.”
“I should think that would already be more than plain,” he bit out. “He’s the kind of man who seizes an opportunity when it presents itself.”
She halted on the pavement, sensing that he’d revealed something about himself. When he realized she had stopped, he turned to look at her.
“Like you?” Sharpening her gaze, she tried to slice through the male bluster of duty to crown and country to glimpse the man beneath. “I’ve been wondering, Jack, what do you get out of this? What opportunity does settling a royal mistress in the prince’s bed open for you? ”
He reddened, and a muscle flexed in his jaw. Without a word he turned and struck off down the street again.
Well. She stood watching his broad shoulders trying to shake off some of the conflict they carried. He seemed to have a conscience after all. He knew that the position they’d forced her into wasn’t right. It didn’t change anything, but that discovery felt like a small victory.
They soon found a firm called Halliwell, Soames, Make-peace and Bickering; it turned out to be just a few doors away from a stationer’s shop where they stopped to inquire. The clerk, an older woman, said that the shop supplied office materials to the firm and, without being asked, revealed that Thomas Bickering had just been made a partner there.
Jack thanked her and turned to go, but Mariah lingered topurchase some new pencils and another writing pad, and asked the clerk if she were acquainted with Mr. Bickering.
“I am. A fine young man.” There was genuine admiration in the woman’s eyes. “Alwus tips ’is hat to women…ladies and shop girls alike.”
“A ringing endorsement from the
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