Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,270

of emotional attachment. An arrangement sounded all too cold and distant.

She had been hoping to talk to him further about the kiss they had shared in the kitchen, but with Lord Ruthin now in the house and taking up most of Rhys’s attention, Wister was forced to leave the subject alone for the time being.

Rhys had told her he didn’t think it proper for a man to kiss a woman in the fashion that he had, but she was left with the uncomfortable worry that he had decided his need for her to remain as his advisor was more important that anything. That perhaps his interest had never been more than a moment of fancy, something which had now cooled.

He had paid her the wages she was owed and if that was all he wished to offer her; she should at least be grateful. Rhys was right in one thing—with money she now had options. Armed with the knowledge of what Lord Kington had done to her, she could tackle the problem of finding another position. There had to be other well-to-do houses in cities such as Manchester or even Edinburgh where a lady’s companion could find an opening.

The thought of her future being yet again in someone else’s home rather than her own brought her to tears more than once over the rest of the afternoon. George Weld had not been able to make her cry, but the prospect of only ever being Rhys’s employee did.

At supper that evening, she sat quietly at the dining room table while Deri, as she had been invited to call him, regaled the small gathering with tales of the happenings in London society. While she listened, her gaze continually drifted to Rhys—the dashing brown-haired rogue who had stolen her heart.

Even before that toe-curling kiss she had been falling for him. Her hopes that Rhys might feel something for her had soared for the briefest of moments earlier that morning when he mentioned her having options.

Because you were fool enough to let him know that you were not a virgin, it all crashed to earth. Of course, he is now looking to take you on as his mistress. You are a sexually experienced woman. That’s all he wants.

She had little money or prospects so a man such as he would be unlikely to look to offer her more. He no doubt would want a wife who brought a dowry with her marriage settlement. Nobles were always on the hunt for money. Deri’s fiancée Sophie came from a well-to-do family, so it made sense that Rhys would do the same.

If she stayed on at Kington House and took a place in Rhys’s bed, she would be giving up her own chance of marriage. At least for as long as she remained.

Staying on here might not be a bad thing. If he pays me, then at least if things do become problematic for my heart, I will be able to resign my position and start afresh somewhere new. I wonder how much it would cost for me to set up a small shop…

“Wister?”

She stirred from her thoughts as Rhys held a bottle of wine above her glass. He nodded, offering to pour some more. Wister shook her head. “No thank you. I have had enough. Making it downstairs after more than a glass or two can be difficult,” she replied.

He set the bottle down and turned back to Deri. Baron Ruthin was, from what Wister could gather, sharing with them all the juicy tidbits about an ugly encounter at a society ball. Rhys was lapping it up.

“The duchess had no sooner flicked open her extravagantly expensive fan when the countess did the very same thing, only for the two of them to realize they had the exact matching fan. You would have thought one of them had stolen the other’s first-born child from the way they carried on. I swear, at one point the duchesses’ footmen were taking bets as to who was going to throw the first punch.”

Rhys roared with laughter. Wister raised an eyebrow. She had heard enough rumors over the years not to be surprised by the outrageous behavior of the ladies of the ton. It was ironic that these were the very same women who felt superior enough to sit in judgement of her.

“Excuse me, gentlemen. I shall go and see how our pudding is fairing.” Wister rose from the table, leaving Rhys and Deri to talk. She and Polly had managed