His Lady Mistress

Elizabeth Rolls43* * *Verity folded another sheet and added it to the mendedpile. Three to go. A quick glance at the clock confirmed thatshe had plenty of time. Everyone was still out on their riverboatingexpedition. She had at least two hours before sheneed expect them. Plenty of time to finish the mending, slipout into the gardens and still get back before there was anyrisk of being seen. Aunt Faringdon had made it perfectlyplain yesterday morning that if she...had the impudence toimportune any other guests...she would regret it.There was nowhere else to go. She couldn’t afford to bethrown out. Not unless hell froze over and Aunt Faringdongave her a reference as a governess or companion.‘Which she won’t,’ muttered Verity, as she reached foranother sheet. ‘She may hate me, but she’d hate payingtwenty pounds a year for a governess even more.’ That wasthe only explanation she could think of for their refusal to lether go. Without a reference she was helpless.The door opened abruptly and a tall, familiar figurewhipped into the room, shutting the door with a speed onlyequalled by the silence with which he managed the feat. Hespoke not a word, but looked around wildly.Verity blinked as Lord Blakehurst made for the large cupboardin the corner. The doors stood wide and to her utteramazement he slipped into the corner behind the door. Stillwithout a word.‘Umm...my lord...’He glared at her from his hiding place. ‘Ssshhh!’Returning the glare with interest, Verity asked politely,‘And your boots, my lord?’‘My...?’ He looked down. ‘Oh, damn!’ His boots wereclearly visible beneath the door. ‘Quick. Shove that mendingbasket in front, girl.’Verity obliged, wondering what could have sent one of thewealthiest peers in the realm scuttling for cover like a startledconey.