A Game of Shadows

by Irina Shapiro

  “Isn’t Buckingham married?” Alec asked, confused.

  “Yes, but what does that have to do with it? The king is married as well. Buckingham began pursuing me shortly after I joined the Council. He’s relentless, Alec. He’s sending letters and presenting me with expensive gifts. Louisa found the snuffbox he had made for me. She thinks it’s from a woman, and I simply can’t bring myself to tell her the truth. I would rather she thought I was having an affair with another woman than admit that I’m being pursued by a man.” Kit finally looked up at Alec, his face a mask of misery. “Help me, Alec. I don’t know what to do.”

  “What can you do other than reject his advances? Is he aware of your desire to have nothing to do with him?”

  Kit shook his head, taking a large sip of brandy. “Yes, but you don’t say “no” to Buckingham. He has the power to destroy me. All he has to do is present some trumped-up charge of treason to James and I could be executed; my title stripped, and my estates confiscated by the Crown. My wife and children would be left with nothing but the shame of being related to a traitor. Even my sister’s sons would be affected. Their lives would be over.” Kit drained the brandy and held out his glass for a refill. “I’m damned if I do, and I’m damned if I don’t. What I wouldn’t give to return to Virginia and be away from all this.”

  “Kit, would he really take his vengeance that far? I heard he was a reasonable man.”

  “Buckingham is gracious and charming, but he’s like a spoiled child who will throw a tantrum if he doesn’t get his way. Only his tantrum can result in me losing my head. He’s implied as much. One word to James, and I would be hauled off to the Tower to await execution with no hope of a fair trial, or a trial at all, for that matter. I wouldn’t be the first.”

  Alec exhaled loudly, his eyes sliding away from Kit’s. He’d never been confronted by such a dilemma, and he hoped never to be again. What could he possibly say to Kit? He was well aware of what it meant to be associated with a traitor. Louisa and the children would be harassed and ridiculed, all their wealth stripped, Robbie’s title given to someone else. If it were just Kit, he’d tell him to refuse and take his chances, but he would be risking the entire family.

  “Kit, I’m at a loss for words. I can’t imagine being in your position.”

  “Neither can I, except I’m in it, and I can’t do anything about it. I can’t leave Court without the king’s permission, and he will never grant it, not with war coming. I’m trapped.” Kit drained the second glass, his shoulders beginning to relax a little as the alcohol entered his bloodstream. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and most of all, I can’t look Louisa in the eye.”

  “Kit, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I would take care of your family,” Alec replied, his promise sounding feeble even to himself. He could feed and clothe them, but he couldn’t protect them from the wrath of the king or the grief of losing a husband and father.

  “Kit, I’m going to ask you an odd question, but bear with me. Is Buckingham constant, or is he fickle and changes lovers often?” asked Alec carefully. Kit just shrugged, not following Alec’s train of thought.

  “I suppose he’s fickle, although the rumors about him and James have been swirling for years. He enjoys the chase and the conquest more than the actual relationship, or so I’ve heard. His relationship is with his sovereign — the rest is just a game. What difference does that make?”

  “It makes a difference if you submit to him. He’ll eventually tire of you and you will be free.”

  Kit jumped up from his seat, towering over Alec, his eyes blazing with fury. “Are you seriously suggesting that I allow that man to bugger me until he grows tired of it?” he spat, his fists clenched at his sides. Kit immediately backed away, embarrassed by his reaction. Alec was not the problem.

  “Yes, Kit, I am. I’d rather see you buggered than dead. You will recover in time, but make sure Louisa never finds out. Just tell her that you had a flirtation with some woman to explain away your behavior, but assure her that it’s over and will never happen again. Don’t destroy your marriage over this.”

  Kit collapsed back into the chair, hands over his face; his shoulders quaking, and this time Alec knew for sure that he was crying.

  Chapter 10

  Valerie climbed into bed, the sheets cool and clean against her hot skin. It was absolute heaven, as was the sight of her husband, pulling his shirt over his head and beginning to unlace his breeches. They’d barely had any opportunity for intimacy aboard the ship or on the way to Willowbrook, and she was burning with desire for him, which would take more than a week to slake. Apparently, Alec wasn’t feeling any different because she could see his arousal all the way across the room.

  Valerie melted into Alec’s arms as he drew her closer, kissing her temple as his hand cupped her breast, caressing her absentmindedly. “Val, can I ask you something,” he said suddenly, stopping his exploration. “You mentioned before that homosexuality was widespread in the future. What do you know about it?”

  Valerie rolled over to face Alec, lust forgotten. “Are you thinking of switching sides?”

  “No, but I was just wondering if you know how it works between two men.” Valerie sat up, staring at Alec.

  “Start talking NOW!”

  “It’s nothing. Kit just happened to mention that the king might have taken male lovers despite being married. Is that common?”

  Valerie eyed Alec suspiciously. She had a feeling that Kit might have said something more than that, but whatever it was, Alec wasn’t about to break his confidence no matter how much she badgered him.

  “There are many men who marry in order to hide their sexual orientation, but continue to have male lovers on the side. When I was a child, it was uncommon for people to admit to being gay, but as I got older it became more acceptable. Many men are openly gay and there was even talk of making gay marriage legal,” Valerie supplied, watching Alec’s face.

  “The Church would allow two men to marry?” Alec asked, incredulous.

  “No, not the Church — the State. It would be a legal marriage though, recognized by everyone. There are couples with two men and two women.”

  “What? Women want to marry each other as well?” Alec sat up in bed, staring at Valerie as if she were making a joke at his expense.

  “Yes, women can be gay as well,” Valerie explained patiently.

  “Is it because they’re afraid of men?” Alec needed to find an explanation to satisfy his mind, but Valerie just shook her head.

  “It’s because they prefer women. Period. Now, why are you asking me all this?” Maybe he was in such shock he’d spill the beans, but Alec quickly recovered himself, lying back down.

  “No, reason. Just curious.” He still looked abashed, trying to figure out how all this worked, emotionally and physically.

  “How do women…?” he began, but Valerie put a finger to his lips, silencing him and nibbling on his earlobe to distract him for the numerous questions he was about to ask. Alec got the point, his hand sliding up her thigh. Valerie cried out in surprise as Alec suddenly flipped her onto her stomach, pushing her nightdress above her waist and grabbing her hips.

  “Alec, don’t you dare,” she squealed as she felt his cock against her ass. “I’ll never forgive you.”

  “Don’t squirm my dear, it won’t help. Just think of it as research.” Valerie gasped as he slid into her, silencing her protests. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but aside from the feeling of pressure, it didn’t feel so bad. Alec began to move slowly, his thighs pushing hers further apart. She tried to relax, but her mind was still refusing to let go and accept what he was doing to her. It just didn’t feel right, and she wished he’d stop. Valerie forgot her objections as Alec’s hand came around and slid between her legs, stimulating her until she began to relax. His fingers probed her as he thrust slowly and deliberately, bringing her to heights of pleasure she’d forgotten she could experience.

  August 1624

&nb
sp; England

  Chapter 11

  Louisa Whitfield walked aimlessly among the perfectly manicured hedges of the formal garden, running her hand over the prickly tops. The shadows were just beginning to lengthen as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, finally giving way to a cool breeze blowing through the trees. Louisa closed her eyes and concentrated on the achingly sweet song of the lark hiding somewhere in the branches of a nearby tree, singing its heart out before another day drew to a close and silenced it for the night.

  Louisa had looked forward to coming to England, but she wasn’t enjoying herself at all. The tension between the adults was palpable, and her only outlet was playing with the children. She had to admit that she loved being with Evie, and Robbie’s sturdy little arms around her neck as he fell asleep nearly brought her to tears. They were so sweet, oblivious to everything but the love people felt for them. She’d been too young to appreciate Evie when she was born, but now her response was surprisingly different. She supposed that at almost seventeen, her maternal instinct was awakening, reminding her that it wouldn’t be long before she became a mother herself.

  Of course, there’d been no offers. Her indiscretion with Tom wasn’t as quickly forgotten as she’d hoped, and she pretended not to notice the sly looks or snide comments that she overheard in town and after church. Louisa hoped that she could marry before she turned eighteen; being an old maid wasn’t a very attractive quality, so she had to try her best to find a suitable husband before then, but no respectable family would want her for a daughter-in-law in Virginia. Coming to England provided her with a clean slate, but as of now she hadn’t been exposed to any eligible young men. Uncle Kit had promised to introduce her at Court, but Louisa had to be realistic — being pretty was enough to get an invitation to someone’s bed, but not enough to elicit a proposal of marriage. Without a title or an estate in England she didn’t have much to offer a prospective husband. True, their estate in Virginia was a profitable one, but for most people at Court the only life worth living was in England, so a tobacco plantation, profitable though it might be, wasn’t enough of an incentive to offer marriage. The only way Louisa could avoid returning to Virginia unwed was to use her wits and looks to turn the head of some unsuspecting youth and hope that his family didn’t object to her too violently.

  Louisa sighed and turned back toward the house. It was almost time to change for supper, and she still wanted to take a bath. This heat was unbearable, leaving ugly wet stains beneath her armpits and making her perspire in places she didn’t know could sweat. The house was a bit cooler, but not by much, and she looked forward to her soak. She’d ask the maid to fill the tub with cool rose-scented water, which would be so pleasant and refreshing. Louisa had almost reached the stairs when a commotion in the hall drew her attention. There’d been so little excitement over the past week that any distraction was welcome. Louisa held down her arms to hide the sweat stains and walked into the hall, eager to see what was happening. A young man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Kit was talking to the manservant, asking to see Lord Sheridan without delay. His face was flushed from the heat, his clothes and boots dusty from travel. He was clearly in no mood to be trifled with, but stopped mid-sentence when his eyes fell on Louisa.

  “I beg your pardon, madam. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” The young man swept her a gracious bow, his dark eyes never leaving her face, making Louisa blush. “Where are my manners? I’m Theodore Carew, Lord Sheridan’s nephew, and you are?”

  “Louisa Whitfield, Lord Sheridan’s niece,” she answered coyly, subconsciously arching her back to draw the young man’s eyes to the creamy breasts swelling above her bodice, her lips turning up at the corners just a little when she noticed his gaze shift from her face, his breath catching in his throat.

  So, this was Theo. Aunt Louisa had mentioned him the other day. He was Lady Caroline Carew’s youngest son, and had been her secret favorite; the son who favored her in looks and temperament. Theo’s two older brothers were already advantageously married, but Theo was around twenty with no bride in sight. Louisa lowered her eyes in mock embarrassment and smiled at Theo shyly, gazing up at him from under her thick lashes. He seemed dumbstruck, unsure of what to say to this beautiful girl who came out of nowhere and was looking at him with such poorly disguised interest.

  “Ah, I see you two have met,” observed Kit as he walked into the hall, his favorite hound at his heels. He tossed his hat to the manservant, who caught it deftly and withdrew with a slight bow to the master whose attention was already on his nephew. “Theo, what are you doing here? Not that it isn’t a pleasure to see you.”

  “I bring a message from Court, Uncle Kit,” replied Theo, his eyes straying to the beautiful girl who was still watching him with those amber eyes.”

  “I hope you’ll be staying for a few days. Come into the library so we can talk. Do excuse us, Louisa.” Kit slapped Theo on the shoulder as they walked toward the library, leaving Louisa looking after them; a small smile playing about her lips. Suddenly, things had gotten more interesting, setting her mind whirling with possibilities. She raced up the stairs to have her bath and to pick out her most becoming gown for supper. She’d be damned if she let this opportunity pass her by.

  August 1777

  Staten Island

  Chapter 12

  Abbie peered at the map again, then looked around at the landmarks, if you could call them that. They were in a place called Staten Island, but it might as well have been the backwoods of Virginia. They’d passed a farm about an hour ago, but hadn’t seen anything since, and there was nothing to tell them if they were on the right track.

  “I think we’re going the wrong way, Finn. There’s nothing here,” Abbie complained. She was tired, hungry, but most of all, saddle-sore. The thought of spending another couple of hours in the saddle were enough to make her cry, especially since she was expecting her period and feeling crampy and achy.

  “No, I think it’s just up ahead. I know you’re tired, but just a little bit longer. Sam will think the worst if we don’t show up. We’re a few days late as it is. Would you like to dismount and stretch your legs for a bit?” Finn asked, a look of sympathy on his face.

  “No, let’s just press on. Once I get off this old nag, I’m not getting back on, and that’s a promise. Do we have anything to drink?” Finn passed her a bottle of cider, hoping the cool drink would refresh her. He was tired himself, but didn’t want to show weakness. It would just make Abbie feel worse. If they didn’t find the homestead soon they would have to camp for the night and look for it tomorrow, but Finn hoped it wouldn’t come to that. They were low on food and drink, and another night of sleeping outdoors would likely push Abbie over the limit. She’d never traveled anywhere before this, and the weeks of being in the saddle and sleeping rough had taken their toll. She’d need at least a day or two to rest before they took up whatever role Sam had in mind for them.

  “Come on, Abs, just a little while longer.” Finn squeezed her hand, willing her not to give up. Abbie just nodded and dug her heels into the horse’s sides, spurring it on. If she couldn’t get out of the saddle, maybe she could at least feel the wind on her face.

  The farm finally came into view about a half hour later. It was a desolate looking place, but there was light in the windows and smoke coming from the chimney, which hopefully meant that someone was cooking supper. There’d be no other reason to light a fire on such a warm night. Several chickens were pecking in the dirt in front of the house, and the lowing of cows and bleating of sheep could be heard coming from the barn as the final rays of the sun disappeared behind the horizon, bathing the homestead in a lavender glow that would quickly give way to the velvety blackness of a summer night.

  A figure emerged from the house, peering into the gathering darkness as Finn and Abbie finally drew closer to the house. Abbie’s heart nearly burst with joy as she recognized Sam. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but the limp gave him away. It wasn’t bad, but notic
eable nonetheless, especially when he was tired. The bullet had penetrated his thigh right above the knee, thankfully sparing his kneecap, but preventing him from remaining in the army. Sam could no longer march for hours, or run during an offensive — he was damaged goods. Their mother hoped he might come home, but Sam wasn’t ready to give up the cause. If he couldn’t fight the enemy overtly, he would do so covertly, with the help of his father. Mr. Mallory was only too happy to have Sam join the Committee and put his considerable skills to good use.

  Abbie slid off the horse right into the warm embrace of her brother. “Oh, Abbie, I thought you’d never get here. I was getting worried.” Sam kissed Abbie on the forehead and held out a hand to Finn, who came up behind her.

  “Well, maybe you should draw a better map next time. One bush looks much like the next when you are traveling through the wilds of Staten Island,” Abbie retorted, already turning her attention to the house. “Who lives here?”

  “A friend. Come inside and I’ll introduce you. Supper is ready, as are your beds. Your assignment begins tomorrow, so you need to rest.” Sam put an arm around Abbie’s shoulder as he steered her toward the door. “Finn, just leave the horses. I’ll see to them in a moment. Come inside and get some food. You must be starved.”

  “We are, actually.” Finn tied the horses to a stile and followed Sam and Abbie into the house. He was touched by the relief on Sam’s face as they arrived. He must have been more worried than he let on, and now that his sister was involved it would be more difficult for him to remain detached. Finn hoped that whatever situation Sam found for them would not put Abbie in any immediate danger, but they were now in enemy territory and would have to be on their guard, always looking over their shoulder and hoping that they did nothing careless to give themselves away.