Marrying the Mistress by Juliet Landon

roads are dug out.’
    â€˜I have a business to run. Anyway, I’m not ill. It’s only a chill.’
    â€˜Yes, and I dare say you’ve been too busy chasing about the countryside in the snow to give any thought to your own needs. Perhaps it’s time you began to think of them, unless you want pneumonia too. If I were you, Miss Follet, I’d take this as an indication that you need some rest, after all that’s happened.’
    That made me angry. Take a rest? How like a man. Ignore everything that needs attention and everyone who depends on you and take a rest. How could I rest?
    Winterson’s housekeeper, Mrs Murgatroyd, came in with a silver tray of tea things and, while she set it out and poured the steaming amber liquid into fine Queen Anne teacups, I was able surreptitiously to knuckle away a tear of impotent fury and to mop my nose on the back of my hand. Very unladylike. My hand shook as I accepted the teacup, rattling it on the saucer, so she removed it with a smile and set it on the table beside me. Then, bobbing a curtsy, she withdrew.
    â€˜How can I?’ I said. ‘Customers still need new clothes, even in midwinter.’
    He plopped a lump of sugar into his tea. ‘Well, for a start, you can allow Jamie to spend more time here.Mrs Goode is a very sensible woman and I’m perfectly willing to share the duties of caring for him. Medworth and his wife are too. Their eldest is just about Jamie’s age, you know, and there’s nothing more respectable than to be related to a country parson’s family. He enjoys his visits there, I believe?’
    I nodded. ‘Yes, very much, but…’
    â€˜But what? Too countrified for you?’
    â€˜I am a countrywoman too, my lord. Mr and Mrs Medworth Monkton are delightful and charming, and so is little Claude. But Linas was never very happy to see pigs and geese, hens and goats wandering through the house, especially when there are small children and babies about. Last time we were there, the goat chewed the baby’s layette; when the donkey wandered into the dining-room, they allowed Claude to feed it with his own bread. I’m used to animals, but I would never go quite that far.’
    â€˜No, I wouldn’t feed good bread to a donkey, either. It’s far too rich. But you know Linas’s attitude to animals, Miss Follet. He could never see the need for them except as food or transport, or inside a kennel. It would be a pity, wouldn’t it, if our Jamie adopted the same indifference to them. He’s quite fearless with them, you know.’
    Our Jamie. Our Jamie. ‘Yes,’ I replied, stepping gingerly over the implications. ‘I do know. He has a little temper, too.’
    His voice dropped, soft and indulgent. ‘That’s not temper, lass, it’s sheer frustration at not being able to express himself, to tell you how he feels. You offered him the alternative of twiddling his thumbs at homewith his nurse while I offered him the chance to ride in the snow, without you. There’s no magic in that. He’s a lively little lad, bright and bursting with energy and curiosity. He doesn’t always want velvet suits and silk shirts. He’s not a puppet. He needs coveralls and some muck to stamp in, and things to climb.’
    â€˜You make it sound as if you know about such things.’
    â€˜I do. I’ve been a three-year-old boy. You have not.’
    I had brothers. I knew he was right, but how could I offer Jamie those more alluring alternatives while keeping to my intention not to get involved, more than I must, in Winterson’s life?
    My silence prompted him to ask, ‘Does he enjoy seeing your family? He was very disappointed not to go.’
    â€˜Yes, he loves it. I promised to take him, then I couldn’t.’
    â€˜Because of the snow?’
    â€˜Yes, it was too dangerous.’
    â€˜But you had to go, did you?’
    â€˜Yes, I had to go. My