Page 41 of Their Master

Because you are going to betray him.

Thankfully Smith didn’t seem to need an answer because she probably would have started sobbing.

“My terms arerigorous—some might even sayarduous.” He gave her a humorless smile. “It would be unfair to you—perhaps even catastrophic—to accept your signature on this contract at this point.”

He was right and Moira felt like an idiot. She’d been entering into contracts since she was eighteen. It was critical to know what the other person expected.

Not only that—and it pained her to admit this—but Smith had been generous and kind to her and had asked nothing in return. He’d offered to help her find work whether or not she accepted his offer. Nobody else had sought her out and brought her food, given her money, and cared what became of her.

His kindness left her sick with guilt, and that infuriated and confused her.

Think of Sandrine.

Moira forced herself to summon an image of her loving, beautiful sister the last time she’d seen her and then took a deep breath and met his patient gaze.

“Will you give me a second chance? I—I don’t want to wait a week again; I just need an hour to thoroughly read through the contract. Please, Mr. Smith,” she added when his expression remained closed. “I’m not an innocent maiden—I know why I’m here. Just give me enough time to read it through—as I should have done. I will tell you if there is anything I cannot accept.”

Not that there would be.

The door opened before he could answer, and a servant—yet another man dressed all in black—entered with a tea tray.

“Thank you, Thomas.” Smith gestured to a low table that was in front of the glowing fire. “Go ahead and put it there.”

Once the servant had deposited the tray and left Smith turned to her. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable? You can enjoy a cup of tea and something to eat while you read.”

∞∞∞

Moira flipped to the last page an hour and a quarter later. It was the second time she’d read the contract through.

Her body had begun to sweat—and not only from proximity to his crackling fire—as she’d read.

She’d been mad—mad—to sign such a thing without reading it.

It wasn’t that any of his expectations were monstrous, but the degree of autonomy she sacrificed by signing was similar to an actual marriage.

The monetary compensation for becoming his live-in mistress was unheard of in her experience.

And if she bore him a child she would receive a generous income until her death, a life estate in a town house, a full staff, including but not limited to a butler, housekeeper, footmen, groom, cook, maids, nannies, nurses, governesses, tutors, et cetera.

A town carriage and a traveling coach, access to a private railcar and villas across Europe, a second house in the country, and on and on.

Surprisingly, Smith didn’t want a slave in return for such largesse; far from it. Indeed, some of the clausesrequiredher to speak her mind in certain situations and one paragraph listed activities that required her initials to approve.

And even approval didn’t signify complete acceptance, as there wasanotherparagraph that stated it was her responsibility to inform him of any change in attitude or acceptance.

There were only a few non-negotiable items.

First, he expected her to give up any outside sexual attachments for the period of one year.

He, on the other hand, would continue to do whatever he wanted and see whomever he pleased.

The obvious double standard amused, rather than angered her. She’d never been jealous about sex or sexual partners. After all, she’d only ever known sex in a transactional context and she certainly couldn’t imagine being jealous of Smith’s amorous adventures.

In her opinion, a genuine friendship was far more intimate and precious than sex.

As for romantic intimacy? Well, that was as foreign to her as the surface of the moon. Men were not romantic with their mistresses or whores. At least not in her experience.

The most interesting sections in the contract were those detailing hygiene.

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