Page 101 of Her Dark Seduction
To my surprise he laughed. “I can see the attraction. ’Tis no disrespect to my beautiful Adelia to say I’m glad I am not twenty summers younger. I will not force you to marry, but there are few alternatives. You could remain here as my mistress…” he raised a hand to stop my protest “…in name only, my dear. You would be left chaste but your position would ensure your protection.”
“Could I not be given a position as a servant? As chatelaine, or lady in waiting to Adelia?”
“You would rather be a servant than the wife of a knight?”
“The life of a lady has brought me no joy, Sir Roger. I had a brief moment of happiness when I lived as a peasant, when I loved—and lived—humbly but honestly.”
De Beauvane looked at me, curiosity in his expression, and a smile played on his lips.
“The position of a servant is, of course, out of the question,” he said, “but we will speak no more of it today; you need to rest. Let Lena take your son. She’ll take good care of him and will continue to do so as long as you require.”
As much as I wanted to argue, I let the maidservant take Geoffrey. Sir Roger was right; I could barely keep my eyes open. So many questions swirled in my mind. Who was Tarvin? How did he escape Mortlock alive? How did de Beauvane find Geoffrey? What had happened to Jack and Lily? My head ached with it all, but I clung to what was real. Geoffrey was alive, and I would never willingly be parted from my son again.
“Join us in the main hall tomorrow night,” de Beauvane said. “We’ll decide your future then—whether you are to marry or become my mistress.”
He held out his hand and as I took it, he bowed and kissed my fingers.
“Until tomorrow.”
Shortly after he left, another maidservant entered the room and helped me back into the bed. Adelia visited me later.
“You have nothing to fear, child,” she said. “My husband believes and trusts you. Both you and your son will be taken care of.”
“How did Geoffrey come to be here?” I asked. “I understand nothing of what happened, or Sir Roger’s role in it.”
“I know,” Adelia said. “My husband will grant you an audience before we dine tomorrow, and you will understand then.”
She insisted I take another sleeping draught, and I did not resist. She covered me with the bed fur and held my hand until sleep overcame me once more.
****
The next evening I waited in my chamber for Sir Roger’s summons. Adelia had given me one of her gowns. She was taller than I and I’d lost weight in the past months, so the gown hung loosely on my frame. Her maidservants treated me like a delicate piece of parchment ready to crumble to dust at the slightest touch. They dressed me with gentle hands, taking care with my bandaged arm as they fitted the undergown and surcoat. There was little they could do with my hair which barely touched my shoulders, but a veil disguised the short locks. Adelia declared that despite the fading bruises on my face, I was unrecognizable from the filthy, battered creature her husband had brought into her home.
Adelia understood my distress. I had no wish to disgrace her in a position as her husband’s mistress but she reassured me there was no shame in it. Most noblemen had mistresses, many enjoying a position of rank almost equal to that of a wife. De Beauvane, though faithful to Adelia, would maintain a façade for my protection and to provide a future for Geoffrey. They had one child—a son who had been fostered at a young age and now served the king. But they had not been blessed with others. They had room for Geoffrey in their heart and household, and as Sir Roger’s mistress I would remain with him.
At a summons from one of Sir Roger’s men, Adelia led me to a chamber beside the main hall. The chamber was lit by a single candle on the desk at which Sir Roger sat. A small chair had been placed before the desk, and he gestured to me to sit while he dismissed his wife.
The murmur of voices could be heard from the dining hall, and I began to tremble. Tonight my fate would be decided and declared publicly before the entire household.
Sir Roger glanced over his shoulder into the darkness behind him. Leaning forward he placed his elbows on the table, the movement bringing his face into the candlelight. A faint trace of amusement danced in his eyes.
“So, Lisetta. Marriage or mistress?”
“I am not willing to marry, my lord.”
“Tell me why.”
“I have already done so.”
“Indulge me by telling me again.”
“Because I love another.”
“Tell me about him.”
“My lord, I see no benefit in doing so. He is dead and it pains me to think of it.”
“Nevertheless, I insist.”
