His Reluctant Mistress

His Reluctant Mistress-1

                                                                          Chapter One

Two months later.

“I have had enough!” Catherine stormed into the drawing room in fury, yanking off her riding gloves and flinging them most unceremoniously across the room, while she commenced pacing the length of the room.

Hester Carrington looked up from her book at gawked at Catherine in surprise. She had never seen Catherine loose her temper, much less appear this agitated before and she wondered what had brought this on.

“Are you all right Cathy? What has happened to rile you so?” she asked, setting aside the book and leaning forward, a worried frown on her brow as she watched Catherine pace, muttering to herself.

Catherine shook her head, coming to a halt in front of Hester. She leaned down and glared at her friend, nostrils flaring in anger, causing the poor woman to shrink back in fright. “Do I look all right? Do I?”

Hester's gaze swept over her friend once more noting that fine strands of brown hair that had escaped from the tight bun at the back of her head, the wild flashing brown eyes and the mouth that was set in a thin line of displeasure.

“No, you're not yourself,” she replied, choosing her words carefully so as not to incur wrath upon her, “tell me what has happened”

Catherine growled and resumed pacing, lost in thought. He had over stepped personal boundaries this time, oh yes he had. She was well aware that she was no great beauty like her niece Laurel, or a reprehensible flirt like Louisa, her mousy hair and plain, nondescript features was nothing to attract a gentleman's attention and after spending four seasons in London without so much as an indication of interest from any gentleman she was even vaguely interested in, and what other proposals that had come her way, were from men after her rather substantial fortune.

She had accepted that at seven and twenty, she was well and truly on the shelf. Thankfully her fortune was quite enough to ensure she depended on no one and Lord Benedict the current Duke of Trevelyan, was more than willing to allow her free rein over Mansfield manor, her inheritance from her late father. She loved the tranquil life of the country , her independence, and her happiness would have remained complete if it weren't for a certain malevolent excuse of a gentleman. How dare he? How dare he mention those....horrid things to her?

“Stuff and bother,” she muttered to herself, “what have I done to deserve this thorn in my flesh?”

“Well?” Hester demanded, raising an eyebrow in inquiry, “Are you going to tell me or not?”

Catherine pulled her thoughts together, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She sank down on the King Louis XVII chaise lounge and blew out a breath, rubbing a hand over her eyes tiredly. “He will be the very death of me Hester, I declare,”

Understanding dawned upon Hester and she leaned back and chuckled, “Ah! And by Him, I take it you are referring to Lord Davenport? Pray, what has he done this time?”