Marrying the Mistress by Juliet Landon

called to say that he hoped I would not mind hearing at second hand what concerned me, since that was how several of the others would receive news of their endowments too.
    What they were endowed with I have no idea, never having shown much interest in what Linas owned, or whether he relied on his wealthy father for an allowance, as many sons did. Even when they were twins, second sons rarely prospered as well as their elder siblings in the property stakes, although I had no doubt that Linas would never have been left wanting. As his mistress, I was probably the most expensive of his few extravagances, albeit not as costly as some I’ve heard of. I had, after all, reorganised my own business after Jamie’s birth, and thank heaven for my foresight, Mr Brierley having no outstandingly good news to offer me that day.
    At first, I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
    That Linas wanted me to continue living on Blake Street came as a great relief, though no real surprise. Mr Brierley’s assurance was quite clear that the house would be made available to me for as long as I wanted it. But when he kept his balding head bent while unnecessarily sorting papers out across the polished table, I guessed that he was seeking not figures, but a kind way to break the news. It came very quietly and deliberately.
    â€˜As for pecuniary endowments, Miss Follet,’ he said, glancing up at last, ‘that’s money , you understand…’
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜Mr Monkton has left you the sum of three hundred and fifty pounds per annum for the rest of your life.’
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜Er…yes. That’s all.’
    I stared at him, frowning, puzzled. ‘All? Three hundred and fifty?’
    His finger pointed at the yellow page. ‘Yes. That was his wish.’
    â€˜But how am I supposed to manage on that? Has he left no provision for our son?’
    â€˜Certainly. Master James Frederick Linas Monkton has been left, you will be pleased to hear, a substantial trust fund, to remain in the hands and to be administered by his sole guardian, Lord Burl Winterson of Abbots—’
    â€˜Yes, I know where Winterson lives, but what else is there? Surely Linas left me something for Jamie’s needs until he comes of age? I cannot raise him on three hundred and fifty pounds a year, Mr Brierley.’
    â€˜You are not supposed to, Miss Follet, if I may say so. The trust fund to be held by Lord Winterson isdesigned to cater for all your son’s needs, as and when he needs them. This will include all his living expenses, his clothes and education and so on. All you will have to do is to apply to James’s guardian for—’
    â€˜But that’s ridiculous!’ I yelped, jumping to my feet. ‘Are you saying I shall have to request money for Jamie’s food, but not for mine, candles and coal for Jamie, but not for me, his nurse’s wages, a groom…’
    â€˜No…no, Miss Follet.’ Mr Brierley smiled, waving a hand in my direction. ‘I don’t suppose it will come to that, will it? I’m sure Lord Winterson will see that you have what you need for young James. A kind of allowance? Monthly? Weekly? But Mr Monkton’s wishes are quite clear that his brother shall have every say in his ward’s upbringing, and I have Lord Winterson’s assurance that he intends to exercise his guardianship with the authority of a father. It must surely be comforting for you to know that your son will have a guardian who is so committed to his immediate welfare.’
    I stood by the window, stunned by the chilling austerity of Linas’s tight-fistedness. I felt I deserved better than that, after almost six years of devotion. I wished then that my life had taken a different turning. Gripping the rose-velvet curtain, I spoke my thoughts out loud. ‘The house will have to be sold,’ I said. ‘And I shall have to find a husband. Yes, that would be best