Praise for the romances of New York Times Bestselling Author Virginia Henley
Unmasked
“No one is better than Virginia Henley at incorporating the period’s details to enhance a fabulous seventeenth-century romance.”
—The Best Reviews
“Once again Henley has brought history to life—and another couple to true love.”
—Booklist
“A merry chase…historical romance layered with a healthy dose of intrigue makes for a book that will keep readers unable to stop turning the pages.”
—The Romance Reader’s Connection
“Unmasked treats the events of history in a way that keeps the reader wrapped up in the story.”
—Roundtable Reviews
“Henley’s gift for bringing remarkable women to life in colorful, turbulent times is what turns her romances into keepers. Henley heats up the pages with her love scenes, and her skill at portraying actual historical personages with humanity while maintaining historical accuracy wins our minds. Henley knows what historical romance is all about and always gives the readers what they want.”
—Romantic Times BOOKclub
Insatiable
“Dangerous games, Machiavellian manipulations, and political maneuverings…lusty and lavish.”
—Booklist
“As twists of fate contrive to keep the two apart—intrigue, backstabbing, the bubonic plague—readers will hanker for them to live happily ever after.”
—Publishers Weekly
“If you like history-rich characters that come to life in your own imagination…then Ms. Henley is one author you cannot dismiss!”
—Romance Designs
Undone
“Heart-stopping excitement, breathless tension, and tender romance.”
—Rendezvous
“All the sensuality and glitter of a more traditional romance but enriched by the plot’s complexity and the heroine’s genuine growth.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A gently suspenseful tale…filled with satisfying historical detail and actual characters from this intriguing period.”
—Booklist
“Extraordinary characters, rich historical details, and a romance…[set] the pages on fire.”
—Romantic Times (Top Pick)
INFAMOUS
Virginia Henley
A SIGNET BOOK
SIGNET
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
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First published by Signet, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
ISBN: 978-1-1012-1073-4
Copyright © Virginia Henley, 2006
All rights reserved
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is dedicated to my devoted readers.
You have earned my eternal gratitude.
Contents
Prologue
PART ONE The Virgin
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
PART TWO Devoted Wife
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
PART THREE Merry Widow
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
PART FOUR Noble Countess
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Prologue
Marjory de Warenne sat in the front pew of magnificent Chester Cathedral watching her brother, Lynx de Warenne, marry the woman he loved more than life. Jane Leslie, the lovely, gentle, flame-haired daughter of the steward of Dumfries Castle, had been handfast to her brother for a year and a day from when he had garrisoned the Scottish castle in the name of King Edward Plantagenet.
Though Jane had given Lynx a son, his heart’s greatest desire, she had agreed to marry him only after he had received a wound at the Battle of Irvine that had threatened to prove fatal.
Jory smiled tenderly, remembering how she had pledged her brother’s marriage vows because he had been too weak and debilitated to even speak. Then Jane had worked her magic, lovingly nursing Lynx back to life. Now that he had regained his health and been restored to his full fighting strength, he was marrying Jane again here in England, so he could pledge his own undying vows to the woman he worshipped.
Sudden panic threatened to choke Jory. As she stared at the flames of the long, tapered candles ablaze on the altar, she became dizzy. They reminded her of other candles that had burned at another wedding years before.
How extraordinarily strange it seemed that her brother’s fortunes had finally flourished with the culmination of those years, bringing him undreamed-of happiness and fulfillment, while her own life lay in heartbreaking, shattered shards!
None yet knew of the disastrous mess she had made of her life. Until now she had managed to hide behind a facade of serene confidence, her emotions buried deep within, safely concealed from the unforgiving light of day that would expose her to a brutal scandal of her own making.
Jory stared at the flames, mesmerized. She had no idea what she would do or where she
would go. She was too emotionally distraught to even pray for the help she would need to survive. She swayed as her mind took wing, flying back over the years to the time of that other wedding and the fateful day that had changed her life so completely.
If only, somehow, I had done things differently…
PART ONE
The Virgin
Chapter 1
“Did you really do it? Did you lose your virginity?” Marjory de Warenne’s wide green eyes glittered with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as she bolted the bedchamber door and removed Princess Joanna Plantagenet’s hooded cloak.
Joanna spun about and stared in amazement at her young friend. Then she began to laugh. “Jory, your innocence staggers me. I lost my virginity more than two years ago, when I was sixteen!”
Jory was visibly shocked. “When you vowed to sow wild oats before your wedding at week’s end, I thought as a final act of rebellion you would choose a secret lover for one night…and—”
“You thought that tonight would be the first time I’d go all the way with a man so I could experience carnal knowledge? Bless your sweet naïvete´, Jory! Though I’ve never been blatant about it, and never before dared take the chance while Father is here at Windsor, I have indulged in the pleasures of the flesh. What the devil do you think I do when I have a secret assignation?”
As Jory unfastened Joanna’s gown, her imagination was limited by the daring things she had done with the opposite sex. “Flirt outrageously…perhaps allow him to kiss you?”
Joanna kicked off her shoes, then lay back on the satin bedcover and stretched with sensual abandon. “God in heaven, is that all you’ve ever done with the male of the species? I thought I had set you a better example than that. The game of seduction goes beyond fluttering your eyelashes and tossing about your silver-gilt tresses. Men’s mouths are good for more than kissing and their pricks for more than pissing.” Joanna brushed her hand over her mons and moaned with remembered pleasure.
“Do you need a bath?” Jory whispered, as Joanna’s words painted a blatant picture of the sins of the flesh.
“Indeed I do.” The princess sat up and the corners of her mouth lifted in a self-satisfied smile. “But I won’t wash off his male scent or the milky essence of his lust until morning. This was my last night of indulgence. On the morrow my ancient husband-to-be arrives at Windsor.”
“Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, is England’s premier noble. Your father thinks only to honor you, Joanna.”
“By marrying me to a man thirty years my senior? Nay! The king thinks only to honor Gloucester, his greatest warrior, who commands more troops than any other earl. In Edward Plantagenet’s world, women mean nothing except as rewards, like castles and titles—not even a daughter,” she said bitterly. “My appeals to Mother also fell on deaf ears. The queen has always been more wife than mother. She worships him and would never oppose him.”
Princess Joanna, the darkly beautiful, sloe-eyed daughter of King Edward Plantagenet had railed for months against her father’s plans to marry her to the aging Earl of Gloucester. Her imperious displays of temper, her point-blank refusals, and her melodramatic threats to kill herself had availed her nothing. Her father was implacable…always. Not only about this, but about everything in life. Once Edward Plantagenet made a decision, it was final.
“I can manipulate any man in the world…any man save Father!”
“That is because you fear him,” Jory murmured.
“Aye, I admit it. You should have seen the mad rage he displayed when I objected that Gilbert de Clare was an old man. ‘Old?’ Father bellowed. ‘He is five years younger than I am! Gilbert needs an heir. Your son will inherit all Gloucester’s English and Welsh lands and castles. Moreover, the ancient de Clare bloodline makes him one of the few nobles fit to mate with a Plantagenet.’
“When I said Gilbert was too old to give me a son, I thought he would strike me. ‘Christ’s bones, I’m well into my fifties and I can still sire a son! Do you want me to prove it?’ he roared.”
Jory sat on the bed beside her. “I’m so sorry, Joanna. I wish with all my heart you could choose your own husband…someone young…someone you love.” Jory hesitated. “What is his name?”
Joanna looked at her friend blankly for a moment. “You mean tonight? Henry…Godfrey…or was it Humphrey? Some such name. I don’t remember. I’m certainly not in love with him.”
Jory was aghast. “You don’t remember?”
“Windsor is overflowing with nobles and their sons who are gathering for the royal wedding in five short days. Yesterday when we stood on the ramparts of the Round Tower and watched scores of mounted men ride into the Lower Ward, I selected one of the taller, younger specimens. Since I capitulated and agreed to wed Gloucester, I decided I had earned a reward.”
Jory’s sense of the ridiculous bubbled to the surface. “Well, by the sound of you, it was certainly rewarding.”
“We’ll go again tomorrow. This time it will be your turn. Perhaps you will see someone you fancy. Your uncle, John de Warenne, and your brother, Lynx, will soon be arranging your marriage. You’ll have no say in the matter, so you might as well indulge in a little dalliance with someone who stirs your blood before they bludgeon you into submission and turn you into a dutiful wife.”
“Uncle John and Lynx would never do anything to make me unhappy. I have them wrapped around my finger and they indulge my every whim. Didn’t they allow me to become one of your court ladies here at Windsor two years ago?”
“That happened the year after your brother wed Sylvia Bigod, the queen’s lady-in-waiting. The Marshal of England’s daughter is attractive, but not nearly as exquisitely lovely as you, Jory. Two beautiful females living at de Warenne’s magnificent Hedingham Castle, vying for attention, must have given her pause. Sylvia likely got rid of you when you turned sixteen because she didn’t want the competition.”
Jory fell silent as Joanna stripped off her garments and slid nude beneath the covers. Though on the surface Jory had a sparkling personality and an infectious laugh, underneath, she had a vulnerability that she kept hidden. She did not remember her parents and had never had a home of her own. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and the guilt she carried lay buried deep within. Some months later, her father, Lincoln de Warenne, had died in battle, giving victory to Edward Plantagenet.
Her older brother had inherited their father’s castles and lands in Essex, and they had been taken to live with their father’s brother John de Warenne, Earl of Surrey, until Lynx came of age. Though her uncle and brother were indulgent guardians who made her feel loved, she had always harbored the belief she was an obligation and a burden that had been thrust upon them, and a secret fear of rejection added to her vulnerability.
Did Sylvia get rid of me by sending me to Windsor to be companion to Princess Joanna? Jory picked up the discarded gown, hung it in the wardrobe and walked slowly toward the connecting door that led to her own chamber. “Good night, Your Highness.”
Joanna sat up. “Come back here! Don’t you dare be formal with me. I have dozens of court ladies who bow and scrape and call me Highness, but I have only one true friend.”
Jory turned and walked slowly back. “I never dreamed Sylvia wanted to be rid of me.”
“She wanted no such thing, Jory, though she should have if she had any brains. I asked for you especially because I wanted a lively companion whose wit and grace outshone every other noble lady I had ever met. And since I’m confessing the truth, I also chose you for your incandescent beauty. Your shining silver-gilt hair and pale green eyes make a perfect foil for the sultry dark coloring I inherited from my mother’s Castilian ancestors.”
Jory’s smile returned as Joanna’s words banished her apprehension and restored her confidence. “When we are together, we do draw every eye.”
“We do indeed. Men gape and women stare with envy. Lord God, Jory, I predict that once you lose your innocence you will exude a sensuality that wi
ll be irresistible.” Joanna sighed. “Tonight, you look angelic, as if you’ve never even glimpsed a naked man.”
“I haven’t! Wherever would I see men who are naked?”
“Surely you jest? I sneaked into the bathhouse when I was about twelve. You had an opportunity last year when we traveled to the Bruce estates in Essex for the ceremony where Bruce passed the Earldom of Carrick to his eldest son. All five Bruce brothers swam naked in the river every day.”
Lady Marjory Bruce was Jory’s namesake and godmother. “The Bruce brothers are rough boys. Their land runs with ours, so I’ve known them all my life. Robert Bruce is a wild devil who teased me unmercifully with a ferret and threatened to throw me in the water. I stayed away from the river.”
“Ooh, I warrant his ferret was furry!”
Jory dissolved into giggles. “I missed my chance to find out.”
“That’s better. Now go to bed, and don’t wake me before nine.”
Princess Joanna stood impatiently for the last fitting of her wedding dress. She was surrounded by the queen’s sewing women and the ladies-in-waiting of her own household while the Plantagenet-blue-and-gold gown was adjusted. “I shall scream if you keep me standing here a moment longer. Get me out of the damn thing!”
One intrepid matron protested, “It still needs—”
Jory saw the fury on Joanna’s face that preceded an explosion of royal temper and she smoothly intervened. “It is perfect! Even you cannot improve on perfection, madam.” She helped Joanna from the yards of rustling blue samite interwoven with glistening gold threads and handed the garment to the head seamstress.
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