Victoria Alexander - The Perfect Mistress

He would take you in his arms and kiss you long and hard in spite of your protests, Harrison said. The way he has wanted to do from the moment he met you!

Thats what you think a man like Ellsworth would do?

Thats what I know a man like Ellsworth would do.

And what about you, Harrison? She stared up at him, knowing even as she said the words, these were dangerous waters. What would a man like you do?

Me? His gaze slipped from her eyes to her lips. I would never take advantage of a beautiful woman on a darkened terrace.

Why not?

It would be dishonorable.

And you are an honorable man?

Most certainly.

And you would never take advantage?

Never.

Not even if you thought that because of her ancestry she wouldnt protest?

Not even then. He paused. And I would never think that.

But what if she wanted you to kiss her?

Their gazes locked for a long moment. He turned and her heart sank. He took a step. Then paused. Damnation, Julia!

He swiveled back and without warning pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard and long and quite thoroughly until her knees weakened and she thought she might swoon in his arms

THE

Perfect Mistress

V ICTORIA A LEXANDER

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Copyright 2011 by Cheryl Griffin

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I have no true regrets, Dear Reader. You should know that from the beginning. Oh, certainly, I have not always chosen as wisely as I should have. I have taken roads that might have been best ignored and made some decisions that, in hindsight, were not especially wise, but even the most egregious of those inevitably led to grand adventure. Indeed, one might say the more disastrous the choice, the grander the adventure.

I am under no illusions that what I now sit down to write will ever be read. The world is a far stuffier place than it was in my younger days. Still, I would like to have my life remembered in some fashion. So I take pen in hand to record my adventures. I dare not leave these memoirs to my children; they are entirely too proper and too concerned with the opinions of others to be trusted with my remembrances. They have never accepted the passion with which I choose to live my life; there is too much of their father in them to understand. Thus the estrangement between us for far too many years. I confess that perhaps that is indeed a regret, but there is nothing to be done about it now. If I had known my life would have caused such a rift I cannot in good conscience say I would have done anything differently, but I might have. Still, one never knows the consequences of ones actions until it is too late.

I should add that my realistic view of my children, and their respective natures, in no way negates my love. They are who the world has shaped them to be. I have heard it said that while many qualities are passed from parent tochild, it is as often true that some traits skip one or more generations. I do hope that the granddaughter I have never seen inherits from me the joy I have found in life and my spirit of adventure. It is with that wish that I leave this to her. Perhaps she will find a use for it someday, be that public dissemination or private perusal. At this writing, I am in my sixtieth year and she is far too young to understand a lifetime that may at first glance appear to be little more than filled with scandal but was, in truth, quite glorious. At least, I found it so.

I have decided to entitle this in a most immodest manner as my nature has grown less modest through the years. Indeed, I see no need for undue modesty. I am who I am, for good or ill. I hope you take pleasure in the perusal of my reminiscences, but if you find them too scandalous for enjoyment, I make no apologies. As I said, I have no regrets. So I shall call this work what I, for the most part, was: The Perfect Mistress.

from The Perfect Mistress,

the Memoirs of Lady Hermione Middlebury

London, 1885

and I would therefore be most delighted to publish your great-grandmothers memoirs. Benjamin Cad-wallenders voice rang in Lady Julia Wintersets small parlor as if he were offering eternal salvation and choirs of celestial angels would appear at any moment to accompany his words.

She raised a brow. Eternal salvation was not what she sought from Cadwallender and Sons, Publishers but rather rescue of a more down-to-earth nature. Financial salvation as it were. I must confess I am surprised, Mr. Cadwallender, that you would make such an offer on the basis of what little I allowed you to read. No more than a chapter if I recall.

Yet what a chapter it was. He chuckled. If the rest is even a fraction as interesting as what I have already read, The Perfect Mistress, the Memoirs of Lady Hermione Middlebury, shall be a rousing success.

Julia considered him. Do you really think so?

Oh, I do indeed. He nodded vigorously. I have mentioned this project, in a most discreet manner, mind you, to a few trusted colleagues and they concur. Do not underestimate the appetite of the public for works of this nature, especially if they are factual.

By this nature do you mean scandalous?

Well, yes, to an extent. But as Lady Middlebury has been dead these past thirty years, and the incidents she reveals are older yet, it is not nearly as disreputable as it might be if she were alive today and in the midst of

Her adventures? Julia said with a smile.

Exactly. Mr. Cadwallenders handsome face flushed. Admittedly, the writing itself is not as fine as Mr. Trol-lopes or Mr. Dickenss or even Mrs. Gaskells or Mrs. Cariks but, as it is written in your ancestors own words and in a remarkably engaging and enthusiastic style, a certain lack of polish can be overlooked. Particularly given the nature of the, er, adventures she relates.

And you think it will sell well?

Lady Winterset. He lowered his voice in a conspiratorial manner. Scandal sells books. I predict this will be a book that will be the subject of a great deal of discussion, which will only make those who havent read it wish to do so.