"Sounds amusing. We need two more.... Let's include Buckingham's wife, just to annoy the smug devil, and how about Elizabeth Hamilton? She's always ready for a lark."
Before the party was over, the six sin seekers made a pact to visit all the fashionable and risque establishments that had opened to cater to Londoners' new-round taste for vice. Many of the gaming clubs provided entertainment. Bawdy skits, racy songs or scantily clad dancers were used to lure in gamblers.
The female cabal left Whitehall each night at eleven and for a fortnight made the rounds of establishments from the Haymarket to the seedier sections of the city, including Cheapside.
Velvet, wearing her new mask, followed the other women into a soot-blackened building on Ludgate Hill. It wasn't until she was inside that she learned it was a brothel that had opened a gaming room as a sideline. The madam, who wore a fantastic spangled gown and purple wig, greeted them. She led them to the cardroom, where each table had a dealer who was similarly clad.
"This is a queer sort of place," Anna Marie murmured.
"Queer indeed," Barbara drawled.
Bess Lauderdale slapped her thigh and roared with laughter.
Velvet's glance moved slowly about the room from table to table as the cards were being dealt. Then she leaned over to Barbara. "I suspect some of these women are men."
"Only some?" Barbara and Bess were shaking with laughter. "They cater to all tastes here."
"I'm not sure I should be here." Buckingham's wife looked extremely nervous.
"Don't pretend to be shocked. It was your husband who recommended this place. Surely you've caught George wearing your gowns? There, now, even Velvet is laughing at that one. Have some wine. Relax and enjoy yourselves, ladies."
At midnight, a curtain was drawn back to reveal a stage. The show presented was a lurid affair of dancers with painted bodies, writhing about in erotic positions and simulated sex acts. Though it was deliberately prurient, Velvet was repelled rather than aroused because the men coupled with other males, and the women did likewise.
After the show, Barbara and Bess paid to go on what was billed as an "observation tour," while the other members of the cabal chose to be satisfied with a game of dice. When the pair returned they described the things they'd seen the prostitutes and their customers doing as they'd watched through peepholes.
Velvet shuddered. She felt unclean, and decided on the spot that she would spend no more nights indulging in such shallow and mindless pursuits.
When they left the building it was after two o'clock and a low rumble of thunder threatened in the distance. Barbara signaled her coachman, but as they stood waiting, a carriage pulled up to the curb, and a tall, dark figure stepped out.
Montgomery, garbed in black from head to foot, held the door open. "Get in," he ordered Velvet.
Go to hell! She didn't dare say it aloud. His tone was so implacable, his stance so intimidating, she obeyed and climbed into the carriage.
Montgomery followed her, slammed the door behind them and sat down on the opposite seat. The vehicle lurched on its way so quickly, Velvet was thrown back against the leather squabs. She righted herself and sat in stiff silence in the darkness.
Suddenly, a flash of lightning lit up the interior of the cab and she saw his intense grey eyes riveted upon her. Her impulse was to babble an excuse. She bit down on her tongue, and stubbornly refused to take the defensive role.
As the silence stretched between them, the air was charged with electrifying tension. Velvet felt the hair on the nape of her neck stand on end, and a prickle of fear ran down her spine.
When the carriage pulled up at Whitehall Palace, Velvet opened the door and jumped out quickly. She raced up two flights of stairs, hoping to reach their apartment before he did. She didn't look back. She didn't need to; she could hear his measured, relentless footsteps closing the distance behind her.
Velvet opened the door, confident that Emma would be there. When she turned up the lamps and found the rooms empty, she knew that he had planned this encounter, making sure she would be alone and at his mercy.
He locked the door and she was shocked that he still had a key to her chambers. When he turned to face her she saw his savage, black fury, barely contained. He had been stalking her and she felt like his snared prey. The room trapped her, imprisoning her, alone with her captor, and there was no escape.
"If you act like a whore, I will treat you as one. But you are my whore, Velvet—never forget it!"
"How many whores do you need?" she cried, her outrage momentarily overcoming her fear.
He stripped off his coat. "Only one at a time."
She wanted to run, but the only retreat open to her was the bedroom. With sheer bravado she challenged, "How dare you follow me and spy on me after what you did at Roehampton?"
"I dare anything, madam, as you are about to learn." He snatched off her cloak and flung it aside.
Her breasts, half exposed in the low-cut gown, rose and fell with her agitation. She saw his powerful hand reach out. "Don't touch me!" she cried.
His hand did not hesitate. He lifted off her mask. Then his fingers gripped her shoulder, forced her into the bedroom and led her to the mirror. "I want you to see what you look like."
She stared at herself, seeing the disheveled hair, the glittering green eyes, the painted face, the indecent gown.
"You were once sweet and innocent as an angel. Now you are hell-bent on destroying your reputation and turning yourself into a strumpet." His mouth set. "Let me help you."
"Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me," she hissed.
For answer, he thrust two strong brown hands into the neck of her gown and viciously tore it to the hem. "I'll do more than touch you. I'll teach you who is master here."
She watched in horror as his insolent glance roamed over her naked flesh, and lust turned his dark face into a devil's mask. She knew he was going to ravish her.
"Get into bed." A thunderbolt crashed overhead.
"If you do this thing, I will hate you forever, Montgomery!"
The muscle in his jaw flexed. "Since you deny me love or trust, I will gladly settle for hate." He reached for her with cruel, possessive hands.
Velvet screamed. "Look at yourself!" She pointed wildly to the mirror. "Just look at yourself."
He glanced at the glass. A flash of lightning illuminated their reflection and he was shocked at what it revealed. He saw a six-foot male manhandling a fragile female. Her skin was as delicate as porcelain and his cruel fingers were bruising her. He had thought he was demonstrating his strength, but saw that he was exposing his weakness. He remembered that he had raped her once in a dream, and was horrified at how close he had come to defiling her in reality. He released her immediately.
Velvet saw his remorse and sensed the danger was past. Now that he was no longer a threat, she could not resist wounding him. "You are mad with jealousy, yet think nothing of betraying me with another. Then you swoop down on me like a raptor, ready to devour me. Your lust repels me, Montgomery!"
He closed his eyes and held up his hands. "Let's stop hurting each other, Velvet."
She swooped down and picked up her torn petticoat and held it like a shield to cover herself.
"The king and some of the Court are going to Audley End, in Essex. I have to accompany him. Come with me, Velvet."
Up went her chin. "I wouldn't be caught dead with you. Why don't you take your little dancing whore, or any other lady of your acquaintance who fancies a fucking?"
His face hardened. "I just might."
On the first day of September, the king, along with a large retinue, departed Whitehall to travel to Audley End, the vast country estate he had purchased. It was about forty miles from London and the journey could be accomplished in one day. Newmarket, the famous racing town, was approximately fifteen miles farther north and an easy ride by saddle horse.
Servants and baggage carts had left Whitehall the previous day. Ch
arles and some of his nobles chose to ride, while their wives traveled by carriage. Montgomery and a dozen of the King's Guard accompanied the royal party.
At lunchtime Velvet came upon Barbara in the Presence Chamber. "The place is empty. We are the only ones here."
"Yes, I watched the cavalcade ride through the King Street Gate and past my house this morning. His Majesty begged me to go, but until he agrees to give me a title, I refuse to be at his beck and call. As well, I'm almost in my fifth month and a long bumpy carriage ride didn't appeal. I decided to come and see who was conspicuous by their absence."
"Buckingham, Lauderdale, Shrewsbury and their respective wives have obviously rushed off to Audley End."
"Their wives' presence won't stop them from the game of bed hopping. The rumor mills have it that certain noble ladies have been invited to accommodate the men."
There isn't a man breathing can be trusted," Velvet
Montgomery was riding with the Countess of Falmouth."
“Isn't she Charles Berkeley's wife?" Velvet asked.
“Yes. She's notoriously promiscuous. Aren't you worried about letting Montgomery go without you?"
Her words were like knives twisting in Velvet's heart, yet she was loath to let Barbara see her pain. She knew Barbara enjoyed being spiteful, and decided two could play that game. "Gossip has it that the Countess of Falmouth is eager to lie with His Majesty."
Barbara's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps I should have gone."
Velvet felt contrite. She didn't want her friend's heart to hurt the way hers did. "I was just teasing you, Barbara."
"Don't waste your pity on me. Save it for yourself!"
After Barbara left, Velvet realized she was feeling sorry for herself. Surely there is nothing more pitiful! She went upstairs and told Emma to pack. "This place is empty as a mausoleum. I'll be damned if I'll sit around here moping for a sennight. We shall go to Roehampton."
"Oh, how lovely. I'll be able to gather mallows, tansy and vervain so we can make more face creams."
When they arrived at Roehampton, Velvet showed off her pair of matched carriage horses to Alfred. "This is Ned, my driver from Whitehall. He can't wait to taste Mrs. Clegg's cooking."
Alfred grinned. "It's pheasant fer dinner tonight, my lady. The woods are overrun with game now it's September."
The two women walked up to the house. Bertha came rushing from the kitchen when she heard Velvet's voice. "Welcome home, Lady Montgomery. Hello, Emma, it's good to see you again."
"Hello, Mrs. Clegg. I'll just take these bags upstairs."
Bertha dried her hands. "I'll go up an' plenish yer chamber."
"No, please don't," Velvet said quickly. "I haven't decided which room I'll use, yet." She glanced about the great hall and was relieved to see that everything was in its rightful place and welcoming as it had always been. She knew that upstairs would be another matter. She feared she would never be able to enter the master bedchamber again because of the painful images it would invoke.
"My lady." Bertha hesitated. "I know ye told me to burn the sheets, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. They bore the king's royal crest, so I washed and ironed them and put them away with some sprigs of lavender."
"The king's crest?" Velvet puzzled.
"His Majesty's body servant brought his own linen, and of course Lord Montgomery insisted the king use your master bedchamber—"
"Thank you, Bertha, I don't wish to be reminded." Greysteel used the master bedchamber. I saw him with my own eyes!
"Sorry, ma'am. I'll go and see to my game birds."
Velvet walked to the window and gazed out with unseeing eyes as her memory relived the morning she and Barbara had arrived. She remembered the look of surprise on Greysteel's face when he saw her, yet Charles was not surprised to see Barbara. Someone saw her carriage and alerted the king.
"Oh, no!" Velvet's hand went up to her mouth. "Of course Greysteel put Charles in the master bedchamber. When he saw Barbara's carriage, he switched places with the king. It was Charles who spent the night with the pretty dancing girl!" She pictured the events in her mind's eye, and suddenly everything made perfect sense.
Velvet, weak with relief, sat down on the padded window seat. At the same time, she was overcome with remorse at the accusation she'd hurled at her husband.
The damnable part is that it's not the first time I've refused to trust him. "Hell and furies, why didn't he deny it? She remembered the dream she'd had and knew the answer. Trust me, Velvet! If you loved me, you would rnist me!
"Do I love you, Greysteel?" Velvet wished with all her heart that she had gone to Audley End with him. It’s not too late; I can go tomorrow. Velvet bit her lip. Perhaps it was too late. She recalled her exact words to him when he invited her: I wouldn't be caught dead with you. Why don't you take your little dancing whore, or any other lady of your acquaintance who fancies a fucking?
She remembered his answer: I just might.
"What if I went rushing up to Audley End and found him with the Countess of Falmouth?" She knew it would break her heart all over again.
That night as she lay abed in the master chamber, she gave silent thanks that Greysteel had not betrayed her with another. She loved this room that had always been so welcoming and made her feel safe, especially when she had slept in his arms.
She awoke at dawn and knew she had been dreaming of him. She looked at the empty place beside her and felt she could not bear to go on this way. If she didn't make things right between them, she feared she might be sleeping alone for the rest of her life. "I'm going to Audley End."
What if you find him with the Countess of Falmouth?
"I don't give a damn! I'll fight her for him!"
Chapter 22
As the small carriage crossed from Hertford into Essex in the late afternoon, Velvet's anticipation at her reunion with Greysteel was tempered by her rear of finding him with another woman. It had been easy to convince herself that she loved him; the fact totally escaped her that she still did not trust him.
Velvet had seen the look of disappointment on Emma's face this morning when she had announced her plans, and was glad she had not dragged her away from Roehampton. "I can manage alone, Emma. I know you'd rather spend a few days drying herbs and :oncocting face cream than rushing up to Audley End. Besides, I could easily return tomorrow if things don't work out."
It was evening when the carriage turned in at the magnificent country estate, ablaze with light. In size, it reminded her of the Cavendish castles she had lived in as a child.
"Ned, I shall leave my bag in the carriage untjl I am assigned a room." With all her heart she hoped it would be her husband's chamber, but she was completely unsure of her welcome.
The guard on the front door recognized her and welcomed her into the large reception chamber. A footman wearing royal livery informed her that she was just in time for dinner and he directed her to the immense dining room: She allowed him to take her cloak and with head held high, but hesitation in her heart, she entered the room.
The cacophony of voices over and above the clatter of dishes and cutlery did not cease until the king got to his feet. Then a hush fell across the room. "Lady Montgomery! We are delighted that you changed your mind and have decided to join us. There is always room at my table for a reigning Court beauty. You may come and sit between Ormonde and me."
Velvet flushed as the Duke of Ormonde stood, gave her his seat and beckoned a footman to bring him another chair. Since his daughter, Lady Mary, now despised her, she feared that Ormonde would not welcome her as a dinner partner. Oh, God, I should not have come!
"I heartily recommend the partridge," Ormonde said with a smile. "It tastes almost as good as the game in Ireland."
Charles winked at her. "Ah, high praise indeed if it compares with anything from the old sod."
With relief Velvet realized that Ormonde was not ostracizing her. "I have never been to Ireland, Your Grace. But I can underst
and your pride in a civilization that is more ancient than that of England."
The king gave her a hearty buzz on the cheek. "Velvet, I swear you've kissed the Blarney stone. No wonder I adore you."
She felt eyes upon her and glanced over to the next table. She wanted to sink through the floor when she ooked straight into the intense grey gaze of her husband. She licked dry lips and was about to gift him with a smile when she saw that his dinner partner was the slim, blond Countess of Falmouth. Her heart sank like a stone and she quickly lowered her lashes to hide her pain. She realized that both the king and Ormonde were bantering with her, but hadn't the least notion what either one had said. She smiled at Charles and turned to the duke. "I understand you were born in county Kilkenny, Your Grace."
Charles saluted him with his wine. "Indeed he was. Ormonde is a far more ancient title than Stuart, if truth be told."
"We are a very select group," he told Velvet with a grin. "You'll notice His Majesty has created many English nobles recently, but there's been a dearth of Irish titles handed out."
That's true." Charles gazed thoughtfully into his wineglass. "You know, my dear, this talk of Irish titles has given me food for thought." He covered her hand with his large one. "You are an inspiration."
Velvet had not been following the conversation. Instead she had been surreptitiously looking about the dining room for Charles Berkeley and had come to the painful conclusion that the Earl of Falmouth had not come to Audley End. Velvet put down her knife and fork. Another mouthful would choke her. The footman removed her plate and she refused dessert. Instead, she picked up her wineglass and drained it to give her courage.
"Montgomery and I are going to a breeding farm tomorrow. You must join us. You have a good eye for horseflesh." The king stood up and it was the signal that released the other diners from their seats. "Speak of the devil, here comes your husband to remind me that I have monopolized you long enough."
"Good evening, my lord," Velvet murmured.
Montgomery offered his arm. "Allow me to show you the house."
Virginia Henley - Unmasked Page 23