The Perfect Mistress. Victoria Alexander

gaze slid from one woman to the other.

      Veronica chose her words with care. “Is this the same Lady Middlebury who was reputedly the mistress of—”

      Julia nodded. “Yes.”

      “And involved in the scandal surrounding the prince of—”

      “That too.” Julia winced.

      “And the rather infamous incident with a prime min—”

      “Yes, yes, all of that.” Julia waved away Veronica’s words.

      “Well, I don’t know what either of you are talking about.” Portia huffed.

      “My apologies, Portia.” Julia paused to gather her thoughts. “My great-grandmother was widowed at an early age and then proceeded to live her life exactly as she pleased.”

      “In a most … independent manner,” Veronica said with an amused smile.

      “By ‘independent’ do you mean scandalous?” Portia asked.

      “Of course.” Veronica poured a cup of tea. “But it was a very long time ago.”

      Julia cleared a space and set the manuscript on the cart. “She passed away more than thirty years ago.”

      “Still,” Portia said, “scandal is scandal.”

      “As I was saying,” Veronica continued, “these are the memories of a woman who has been dead for these past thirty years and her …”

      “She calls them adventures.” Julia wrinkled her nose.

      “Amorous adventures, no doubt,” Portia said darkly.

      “Adventures? How delightful. Oh, I do like that.” Veronica paged through the manuscript. “The amorous adventures of a woman long in her grave may well have been scandalous when they occurred. But today, they are more in the realm of …” She thought for a moment. “Oh, history, I would think, as those who shared her adventures are long dead and buried as well.”

      “History?” Portia stared at the manuscript as if she wasn’t sure if she wished to spirit it away and read it in the dead of night or burn it. “I daresay no one would look at this as history.”

      “The history of society as it were, for better or ill,” Veronica said in a superior manner. “These amorous exploits of Julia’s great-grandmother happened so long ago they are only of interest in a literary sense.”

      “More prurient than literary, no doubt.” Portia directed a warning look at Julia. “Some people have very long memories.”

      “And some people are fast reaching a point of financial ruin.” Julia tapped her fingertip on the manuscript. “Hopefully, this will provide salvation.” She drew a deep breath. “My finances are dwindling quickly.”

      Veronica stopped paging through the manuscript and cast a startled look at the other woman. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

      “It’s rather embarrassing to admit that one’s resources are limited,” Julia said with a wry smile.

      Surprise crossed Veronica’s face. “Even among friends?”

      Julia nodded. “Especially among friends.”

      Veronica huffed. “I tell you everything. Why, you know very nearly all my secrets.”

      Portia ignored Veronica, directing her words to Julia. “You should marry again. That would solve all your problems.”

      “I would very much like to marry again,” Julia said, her tone a bit sharper than she intended. “However, it was not easy to find the right man once.”

      “It would be much easier if you were looking for financial stability rather than love,” Veronica noted, not for the first time.

      “At this particular moment, I would turn my life over to a man without hesitation if it would mean financial salvation,” Julia said staunchly.

      Veronica raised a brow. “You do not lie well, my dear. You would beg on the streets before you wed a man you did not care for.” She paused. “How bad is it?”

      Julia blew a long breath. “I have approximately three months before my circumstances are serious.”

      Veronica frowned. “I thought I noted a look of concern about you in recent weeks.”

      Julia grimaced. “I have not been sleeping well.”

      Veronica leaned toward her and lowered her voice. “Do allow me to give you what you need. I have more money than I could possibly spend in a lifetime.”

      “I cannot take your money, although your offer is most appreciated,” Julia said.

      “Why ever not? She certainly has the money.” Portia poured her tea. Veronica’s spending habits were the subject of great amusement and, on Julia’s part, who had to watch every penny, some envy. “Why, the amount she spends on hats alone would fund a small country for a year.”

      “Longer probably,” Veronica said, the fanciful concoction of feathers and flowers on the hat she wore today bobbing with her movements. “I see no reason not to indulge myself as I have the means to do so. And I simply adore a hat that makes a statement.”

      “Oh, your hats make all sorts of statements.” A wicked light sparked in Portia’s eye. “I would say the statement that particular hat makes is—”

      “I don’t think that’s necessary.” Veronica cast Portia a narrowed look. “Or wise.” She turned back to Julia. “Nor is your refusal to take my money.” She met her friend’s gaze and took her hand. “I have never had a great number of friends but I understand friends do things like this for one another. And, in truth, I have come to think of us as somewhat more than friends. You are the sister I have never had.”

      Julia swallowed the lump that abruptly rose in her throat. “I never had a sister either.”

      “And I’ve never had a real sister,” Portia said quickly, not to be outdone, and fairly slapped her hand on top of her friends’. “And, while my finances are not as vulgarly excessive as Veronica’s, I too have a tidy fortune. I should like to give you money as well.”

      Julia stared at Portia, glaring at Veronica, then met the other widow’s gaze and the gleam of amusement in her eye. Both women laughed and Portia huffed. “I am quite sincere, even if a bit tardy.”

      “I know you are.” Julia smiled. “And I am most grateful.” She withdrew her hand, settled back in her chair, and considered her friends. “That you would both make such an offer touches me more than I can say, however I cannot—”

      “Of course you can. You simply won’t. Pride, my dear, is not nearly as becoming as you might think.” Veronica straightened. “But do understand this, regardless of your refusal, the offer—both offers I assume—stand.”

      “We do not want to see you destitute.” Portia flicked her gaze over Julia’s serviceable but well-worn dress and wisely kept her opinion on the topic of Julia’s wardrobe to herself. “You will never find a wealthy husband if you look like you need one.”

      “I should quite like to marry again, but as no potential suitor has yet to appear on my doorstep, I must take matters into my own hands.” Julia nodded at the manuscript. “This might well be my salvation and, like any true miracle, arrived just when I needed it.”

      Veronica raised a brow. “Left to you by your late great-uncle then?”

      “Not exactly.” Annoyance sounded in Julia’s voice. “According to her memoirs, my great-grandmother had always intended for this to be left in the care of my mother as she thought her children were too proper to appreciate it.”

      Veronica nodded. “Byron’s memoirs were burned after his death, by friends I believe, who were concerned as to the scandal