Wanted: Mail-Order Mistress. Deborah HaleЧитать онлайн книгу.
traffic from the West and four new workers to train, he’d been run off his feet since then. Last night he hadn’t even been able to get home to dine with Bethan, much to his disappointment. With business running smoother today, he’d come home early to join her on the veranda.
“Very well, thank you.” Bethan smiled at him, but quickly looked away as if she still wasn’t quite comfortable around him. “Your servants have gone out of their way to make me welcome.”
“But…?” Simon prompted her, sensing an undercurrent of discontent in her tone.
“It’s nothing really.” She fluttered her fan more rapidly. “I’m just not used to being idle. I wish there was more I could do, but I suppose it’s not proper for the mistress to be doing maid’s work. Ah-Sam did let me take Rosalia for a walk on the beach. I think she enjoyed it.”
Simon’s spirits rose at hearing Bethan refer to herself as his mistress in such an offhand way. Still, he wasn’t certain he approved of Rosalia spending too much time in the company of his mistress. Not that he feared Bethan would corrupt the child’s morals, as might have been the case if Hadrian had sent the sort of experienced ladybird he’d expected. But it did put Bethan on a different footing in his household—too much like a wife for his comfort.
“I hope you don’t feel obliged to earn your keep for the next month by looking after Rosalia. She has an excellent amah.”
“I know that.” Bethan bristled slightly. “I’m not trying to take Ah-Sam’s place. It’s just that I enjoy your daughter’s company and we have a jolly time together.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” That wasn’t altogether true, but Simon was relieved she didn’t dislike Rosalia and want the child sent away. “Though I was hoping you would enjoy my company. That is why I brought you to Singapore, after all.”
“I do!” she cried, then immediately appeared flustered by her outburst. “I mean…I know that. But you’re a busy man. You don’t have much time to spend with me.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get home for dinner last night.” Though he meant it sincerely, it irked Simon to apologise for his absence. He hadn’t bargained on answering to his mistress for his comings and goings, as he would a wife. Then again, so many things about Bethan were not as he’d expected. “That’s why I came home early today. I thought we might take a drive before dinner to see a little more of the town. Would you like that?”
He knew her answer almost before the question was out of his mouth. Her whole face lit up with a winsome glow that took his breath away. “I’d love it!
She started towards him was if she meant to throw her arms around his neck. But before she could complete the impulsive gesture, she caught herself and jerked back.
Simon stifled a pang of disappointment. Perhaps an unguarded overture of that sort had led to the loss of her virtue. He must help her overcome such troubling memories and show her she had nothing to fear from him.
“Can Rosalia come with us?” she asked. “I’m sure she would enjoy a drive.”
Simon bit back an impatient reply. “Another time, perhaps. I don’t like to upset her nursery routine.”
For a moment Bethan looked as though she might argue his decision, but when she spoke it was only to ask, “Should I change clothes first?”
Simon swept a glance over her as she rose from her chair. Her high-waisted muslin gown had an air of elegant simplicity that he liked very much. The colour reminded him of the unripe apples he and his brother had once hurled at each other in the orchard of his boyhood home.
“You look fine.” He rose and offered her his arm. “Better than fine. All you’ll need is a hat and a parasol.”
What Simon neglected to mention was that there would be no need for her to dress up. He didn’t expect to meet anyone on their little jaunt. Most of his acquaintances would be dining at this hour, then going for a stroll or a drive afterwards. He wanted to spare Bethan the necessity of introductions that might prove awkward, especially since their arrangement was still not fully settled.
His plan worked perfectly. When they drove up North Bridge Road a short time later, the street was quite deserted.
Bethan did not appear to notice. Perched beside him on the seat of the gharry, she peered about, trying to looking in every direction at once, firing questions at him. “What is this great empty space doing in the middle of town? Is it the market square?”
Simon shook his head. “At present its only function is to provide the sepoys with a parade ground.” He pointed towards the military encampment at the base of the hill. “Our founder designated this part of town for public buildings. Originally he wanted them on the north bank of the river. But since that was the best commercial land, we merchants built our godowns there and Raffles was obliged to alter his plans.”
“So trade is more important than government in Singapore?” Bethan flashed him an impudent grin that Simon could not resist returning.
“Without trade, how would those fine public buildings be paid for?”
She chuckled. “I think that makes sense. What about all those fine white houses overlooking the shore—do they all belong to important merchants like you?”
There could be no mistaking the sincere admiration in her tone when she referred to him as important. Simon’s chest swelled.
“Most of my neighbours are merchants. The lot on my right belongs to Carlos Quintéra, the local agent for a large Calcutta firm. Others are officials, like the Surgeon, Dr Moncrieff.” He nodded toward one of four houses facing into the square on the shore side.
They drove past the soldiers’ encampment, taking a carriage road that wound around Government Hill.
“Where are we going?” asked Bethan.
Simon cast her a sidelong glance. “I want to show you the best view in Singapore. Several of the best, in fact.”
“I’m certain they’ll be very fine indeed. I can’t get over the size of some of the trees here.” Plucking Simon’s arm to gain his attention, Bethan pointed toward a lofty jelawi. “That one looks as tall as the Lantern Tower of old St. Nicholas church back in Newcastle!”
Her unexpected touch sent a bolt of heat searing through Simon’s veins. It took him a moment to master his voice. “Majestic, isn’t it? The younger trees beyond it are all spice-bearing varieties. They are part of an experimental garden, a pet project of Sir Stamford Raffles. He had a number of trees and shrubs of commercial value planted here to see if they would thrive. The place has been rather neglected since he left. Our current Resident is more interested in politics than botany.”
He’d barely finished speaking when Bethan grasped his arm once again, holding on a little longer this time. “Oh my gracious, look at those birds! Did you ever see such colours?”
Simon forced his gaze toward a pair of parrots with vivid dark-red plumage and bright blue markings on their faces and wings. Spectacular a sight as they were, he would rather have feasted his eyes on Bethan’s face, aglow with the wonder of discovery.
“You’ll see plenty of those around Singapore,” he assured her. “There’s another kind even more amazing—feathers every colour of the rainbow, only more vivid. You’d swear they were cast out of emeralds and rubies.”
In truth, he’d never paid much heed to the bright colours of the birds or the soaring height of the trees. When he’d first arrived on the island, he had been too preoccupied with helping Ford and Hadrian establish their business, and trying to forget the humiliating situation he’d left behind in Penang. Now he found himself taking in his surroundings with fresh appreciation.
As the gharry rounded the far side of the hill, Bethan let out a soft gasp. Spread before them was mile after mile of wild, verdant jungle.
“I