His Lady Mistress

156 His Lady Mistresschair and pristine silver mocked him. And her words hauntedhim—Whore? Bitch? Would she really have preferred to returnto the Faringdons rather than marry him? Damn it! She’dwanted safety and security. Enough to become his mistress.What more did she want now that she had it?He glanced up and found Richard’s gaze on him.‘Not much,’ said Richard, flushing.For a moment his mind blanked. And then he realised thathe was still holding the parcel. Unwrapping it, he found asmall carving of two spaniels curled up together. He shot aglance at the fireplace where the originals lay in a tangle ofpaws and drooping ears. He chuckled. Only Richard couldhave given him this.All he said was, ‘Now I know why you’ve been leavingsuch a mess in the library.’ No more was necessary. Not withRichard.Another larger, flat parcel lay beside his place. Frowning,Max picked it up. ‘What’s this?’Richard shrugged. ‘Open it and find out. It was there whenI came in. Almeria, perhaps? She might have sent it viaHenny.’Max dismissed that suggestion with a snort. ‘Hardly!’ Almeriaonly noted one’s birthday if one chanced within earshotof her discourse on duty and propriety.He opened the parcel, puzzled. A frame came into view—a picture, then. His breath caught...but how could Richardnot have known? Or had he? Yet it seemed so unlike him toconsent to such a thing.Max stared down at the crayon portrait of his brother,caught frowning in concentration over something in hishands. Looking more closely Max could see that he was carving;the artist had even captured the wood shavings curlingdown in a beam of sunlight. He looked again and smiled. Heknew where this had been done. The bay window in the library.The floor there had been littered with shavings recently.He could have been given nothing he would value