His Lady Mistress

Elizabeth Rolls29after her father’s burial. He would not have seen Lord Faringdon.And what if he found out she was here? She bit herlip. The only way in which he could help her would be toremove her from the Faringdons’ care. And he wouldn’t beable to do that, even if he wanted to. He might force themto treat her properly while he remained, but after he left—Despite the warmth of the day a chill stole through her. Itwould be worse than ever.She couldn’t understand it. They didn’t want her here.They hated her. Why, then, did Aunt Faringdon refuse towrite her a reference and let her go?No. She must stay out of his way. Not that he was likelyto recognise her after five years...she’d been a child. A thin,underdeveloped fifteen seen by a tallow candle. No. Hewould never recognise her.In her dreams Max always knew her instantly, swept herup on to his horse and took her away. Lord Blakehurst wasanother matter entirely. Earls did not sweep indigent femalesup on to their precious bloodstock and carry them off to theobligatory happy ever after. Somehow she had to banish LordBlakehurst and think only of Max. Otherwise she had losther comforting dream.The following evening Max, Earl Blakehurst, sighed withrelief as the ladies left the dining room in the wake of LadyFaringdon. What in Hades had possessed him to accept thisinvitation? He hated gatherings like this. A veneer of pretensionand affectation on the part of the ladies, concealing asolid core of hypocrisy. And the gentlemen were not muchbetter.Across the table young Godfrey Faringdon’s bragging accountof some tale involving a lady’s companion at anotherhouse party grated on him. He gritted his teeth. In consigningColonel Scott’s daughter to the care of her loving family, hehad made a serious error of judgement.‘Ah, Blakehurst? You there, old chap?’