Page 54 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“Why don’t we ride out tomorrow after breakfast if it’s still clear?” An excellent way to get his little bride-to-be alone, out from under the watchful eye of her family. “You can show me the estate and perhaps the village.”

“Father won’t allow me to go out with snow on the ground.” She shook her head sadly, trying to smile. Her hands twisted the napkin in her lap. “He thinks I cannot handle a horse if the ground is sloppy, even though I’ve ridden all my life.”

“Leave the permissions to me.” Tris shot a look down the table at her father, now talking amicably with his son. “As your betrothed I will demand you accompany me on pain of forfeiture of his best boots.”

Dora sputtered with laughter.

She deserved a husband who could draw out her good nature and love her. He seemed to be the former, but could only hope, eventually, to be the latter as well. Several times during dinner his thoughts had wandered back to Violet. What was she doing? What was she practicing? Was she dancing with Donningham or some other fortunate suitor? He feared such images would never leave him.

Shaking off the melancholy that threatened to drape itself around him, Tris turned to his hostess. “Are you fond of riding, Lady Downing?”

“No, indeed, Lord Trevor. Give me a carriage every time, I say.” She nodded so fiercely one of the combs securing her coiffure flew onto the table.

A footman leaped forward and retrieved it.

“Oh, how sad.” Feigning a dour countenance, Tris sent his future mother-in-law a woeful glance. “I was going to ask you to join Dora and me on our ride tomorrow morning. I thought it would be a nice adventure to explore the countryside and get to know one another before the wedding.”

“But the snow, Lord Trevor.” The viscountess’s eyes seemed to pop at him, like the frogs he used to gig as a boy.

Tris bit the inside of his mouth to stifle a laugh. “I assure you, my lady, I will take excellent care of your daughter.”

With pursed lips, which only enhanced the froggy look of her, Lady Downing straightened her shoulders, laid her napkin next to her plate and rose. “Come, Dora. We will retire to have tea and leave the gentlemen to their brandy.”

Dora rose obediently, but sent a merry smile at Tris before following her mother from the room.

Tris shook his head as Lord Downing poured a stingy dollop of brandy into a glass and handed it to him.

“Dora seems rather taken with you, Trevor.” His lordship sipped his own libation before returning to his seat at the head of the table. “I don’t think I’ve seen her so animated since…well, ever.”

“Not that you pay her much mind, Father.” Harper, who had downed his splash of spirits, rose and headed for the decanter. “Let me warn you, Trevor. She’s a pathetic little mouse. Father should have told you what you were in for before he accepted your offer for her.”

Surly pup. Tris gripped the fluted tumbler then tossed it off. He hadn’t believed Dora when she’d said her brother hated her, although he might have been mistaken to do so. Never would he have dreamed of dishonoring one of his sisters so, and certainly not in his father’s hearing. This Captain Hackum needed to be given his oatmeal. “Of course, I made her acquaintance before I offered for her, Harper. She suits me as she is, if it’s any of your business.”

“Oh, not my business at all.” Throwing his head back with a laugh, Harper plopped himself down. “I’ve just always found her to be a mopus. But if that’s to your taste, then have at her. Keep her out of my way and I won’t give a damn.”

“That will hardly be a problem, I think.” Tris eyed the wretch, malice in his heart. “After our wedding trip we’ll likely remove to London for the Season. I’ll take my seat next session but as soon as that’s through we’ll head to Yorkshire. A visit to the property at Bromley, and then we’ll settle in. You will likely not see your sister for some time.” Never again if he could help it.

“Have you given no thought, then, to old Leinster’s property?” Lord Downing’s voice cut the air crisply. His chair screeched on the stone floor as he pushed it back.

“I have not consulted Dora yet, but I suspect she will be glad to spread her wings a bit and see other parts of England save London and Devizes.” Tris forced himself to speak lightly. No need for a fight. After all, she’d be his wife. He could command her to go wherever he wished. But it would be a cold day in hell when he lived under Downing’s roof. “As Lady Trevor she will be much in demand in Society. I will insist she take full advantage of her new position.” And stay the hell out of her family’s clutches.

Knuckles white, Lord Downing slammed his glass down so hard the candelabra in the center of the table jumped. “You had best remember your position, Trevor. Dora’s a fragile girl who will not thrive far away from her home.”

“In that I do hope to prove you wrong, my lord.” Tris grinned into the red face. He grabbed the decanter and tipped the cognac in until it filled half the glass. “By the way, Dora and I will be riding around the estate tomorrow. A little tour to familiarize myself with the countryside. I’ll be able to discuss the issue of our residence with her then.”

Downing’s face went purple. His eyes protruded almost from their sockets and one large vein in his neck bulged. Sputtering incomprehensibly, he stalked out of the dining room, the loud clicking of his heels echoing down the corridor.

“Whew.” Harper whistled as he rose and snagged the brandy. “You’ve no fear of baiting the bear, have you, Trevor?”

“I won’t be held hostage by a tyrant no matter if I have married his daughter.” Tris gulped the remaining brandy, relishing the burn. He held his glass out. The evening would likely require more than one glass for him to survive.

“Well, you’ll make my life a damn sight easier. The pater will be so set on dealing with you he won’t come after me so often.” Harper poured a generous amount into Tris’s tumbler before filling his glass almost to the brim. “I wouldn’t take up for Dora too much. She’s always been a thorn in Father’s side. Too shy, too awkward, not nearly as pretty as my other sisters.”

Careful to keep his temper in check, Tris leaned back, sipping slowly. “You don’t like your sister much, do you, Harper?” he drawled, aching to chalk the man one in the face.

“She’s been my ruin since she was born.”

“Come again?”