A Game of Shadows

by Irina Shapiro

  “Will we really lose her, Valerie? First, we lost the baby, then Finn, and now we are going to lose Louisa. Is there no end to how much loss one person should be expected to accept?” he asked, his eyes full of misery.

  “Aunt Maud lost seven children. I suppose we should be grateful that at least two of ours are still alive. I will resign myself to losing them, as long as they are well and happy. That will keep me going in my darkest moments. Of course, we can stay in England to be close to her if she marries Theo. Charles is happy running the plantation and Finn is no longer there, so there’s nothing forcing us to return. Don’t you want to visit Yealm Castle?” Valerie asked carefully. Alec hadn’t mentioned returning to his home once since they left Virginia.

  “I have no desire to go there, not even to visit Finlay’s grave. It holds nothing but painful memories. Charles went there when he was in England. I bid him to sell the estate, and he did. It doesn’t belong to us anymore.”

  “Why haven’t you told me?” Valerie always wondered what Alec planned to do with the estate. He hardly mentioned the place, especially since Louisa had come to them and described the derelict state of the place.

  “I didn’t want to rake up the past. You endured such suffering there. I was glad to move on and start a new life. We’ve been happy in Virginia, haven’t we?” he asked, finally looking at Valerie.

  “Yes, we have,” she replied, smiling into his eyes.

  Chapter 24

  The chamber of the Privy Council was hot as the deepest level of Hell, the windows firmly shut against the August sun, and the heavy velvet drapes open to allow the merciless rays to stream into the room making it even hotter. The men seated around the massive table were all red in the face, looking desperate to leave and go somewhere where they could rip off their wigs and strip off their heavy doublets. His Majesty wasn’t there, but Buckingham spearheaded the meeting, addressing issues that could easily have held until the members of the Court returned to town in September. What had been the great urgency?

  Kit shifted in his seat, eager to escape. There was no point returning to Willowbrook, so he would just go back to his London house and wait until the family returned the following week. A few days alone might be beneficial in his current state of mind. He’d taken Alec’s advice to heart, and he supposed it made sense in an abstract type of way, but to actually go through with it would be a lot more difficult than making the decision to do so.

  Kit looked up as he felt Buckingham’s gaze on his face. Several members of the Council were heatedly debating something that he hadn’t been paying attention to as Buckingham leaned back in his chair in the place of honor, watching Kit like a cat who watches the unfortunate bird it’s about to devour. He tried to look away, but Buckingham gave him a half-smile, his dark eyes hooded with desire. Kit felt a trickle of sweat run down his back more from anxiety than heat. How long would these buffoons keep talking? He’d go take a walk by the river as soon as he could decently get out of here; maybe it would be a little cooler there, and he could go over his options one more time. Who are you trying to fool? he asked himself as he pretended to fiercely concentrate on the document before him. You have no options; might as well just get on with it and pray that it will burn out quickly.

  Buckingham suddenly stirred, abruptly calling an end to the meeting. He looked remarkably cool compared to the others, but he blamed the heat on their inability to come to a decision, and suggested they await the invaluable input of His Majesty before making a final decision. He gathered his papers and prepared to leave the room, glancing up just as Kit was about to depart.

  “Lord Sheridan, a word if you please.” His voice was low and seductive as he gazed at Kit from beneath his dark lashes. “Would you care to join me for a drink in my rooms to discuss the issue at hand further?”

  Kit threw a longing look at the door before turning back to face his tormentor. There was nothing he wanted less, but it might as well be now. There was no point putting off the inevitable any longer. Villiers was getting impatient; that much was obvious.

  “That would be most welcome, Your Grace,” he replied, giving Buckingham a slight bow. “Shall I see you there in a few minutes?”

  “Yes, I’ll be expecting you, so don’t disappoint me.” Buckingham collected his papers and strolled past Kit, lightly brushing his thigh as he walked past. Kit was grateful the room was now empty as he sank back into his chair, his legs refusing to hold him up.

  Chapter 25

  Kit’s stomach clenched with anxiety as he neared Buckingham’s rooms. In theory, Alec had been right, but now that he was actually here, what he was about to do was unthinkable. Kit tried not to allow the unbidden images spring into his mind as he rapped on the door. Buckingham had the grandest apartments at Whitehall, aside from the king, and the most private. No one would know he’d been here, but that didn’t matter — he knew. Kit felt a wave of nausea as he heard footsteps on the other side of the door, approaching quickly. A bland-faced servant held the door open, ushering Kit in as if he came to visit his master every day.

  “Come through here, if you please, Lord Sheridan. Hammond, we have some Council business to attend to. Make sure we are not disturbed,” Buckingham instructed his servant before pouring Kit a cup of claret. He was informally dressed in breeches and a white shirt, his stockinged feet in simple buckled shoes. Kit had never seen Villiers without his wig, and he had to admit that he looked a lot less intimidating without all those black curls cascading down his back. His hair was cut short, as dark and curly as his own with a few tell-tale gray strands silvering the sides. Villiers smiled seductively, his black eyes warm and inviting.

  “Don’t be so nervous, my pet; I won’t bite. I know you don’t normally do this kind of thing, so I promise to be very gentle with you. Come, let us have a drink. What shall we drink to? How about new experiences and forbidden pleasures?”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Kit answered quietly. He thought he might be sick.

  “Please, Christopher, forget all this “Your Grace” stuff. It’s George. Come now; let me hear you say it.”

  “Yes, George,” Kit repeated obediently, swallowing down another wave of nausea. He wanted to run for the door and never come back, but that wasn’t an option. It was still better than mounting the steps to the scaffold and facing one’s imminent death, although not by much.

  Villiers took a dainty sip of claret and set down his cup, coming closer to Kit and pulling him to his feet. The kiss was strange, prickly and warm, his lips surprisingly soft. Villiers drew Kit closer, kissing him as he would kiss a woman, tenderly and lightly.

  “You’re shaking, Christopher. Is it that distasteful?” The smile was knowing and full of mischief. He’d probably done this many times before. Kit just shook his head, unable to find his voice.

  “Just close your eyes and let me show you how wonderful this could be.” Kit obeyed, closing his eyes, his hand on the ornate desk for support. He squeezed his eyes harder as Buckingham’s fingers deftly undid his breeches and pushed them down over his thighs.

  Oh, God, help me get through this, Kit prayed, his knees buckling under him. He gasped as he felt Buckingham’s lips close around his cock and start sucking slowly and deliberately. The sensation wasn’t all that different from when his wife did it, except for the tickling of the beard. It’s Louisa. I’ll just pretend it’s Louisa, Kit thought as the sucking became more insistent, the tongue teasing and arousing him despite his fiercest protests. His breathing quickened as waves of pleasure surged through him, taking him utterly by surprise. Kit couldn’t help but open his eyes. Villiers was on his knees in front of him, his laughing eyes watching as he continued his task. Kit turned away and caught sight of them in the gilded mirror hanging above a cabinet inlaid with mother-of-pearl flowers and vines. Buckingham must have deliberately chosen the spot, hoping Kit would open his eyes. Kit watched in mute fascination, unable to look away as the second most powerful man in Christendom sucked his cock, his eyes clos
ed in concentration. He grabbed onto the desk as his seed spilled into Villiers’s hot mouth.

  “Oh, dear God,” whispered Kit, unsure of what he meant.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it, pet?” His smile was full of triumph as he wiped his mouth with a lacy handkerchief, his eyes never leaving Kit’s face. “You’ll grow to like it. Others have.”

  “Are there many at Court who enjoy this kind of thing?” Kit asked, suddenly wondering about men of his acquaintance. Who else had Buckingham taken as a lover?

  “More than you think, but it’s a game best played under the cover of shadows, which makes it even more delicious. See you soon, pet.”

  George planted a soft kiss on Kit’s lips before he turned and walked away, leaving Kit stunned and shaken.

  Chapter 26

  Theo opened his eyes to find the room bathed in brilliant light streaming through the windows. He never bothered to close the shutters last night, and judging by the position of the sun riding high in the startlingly blue sky, it was close to noon. He squeezed his eyes shut against the merciless light, his head banging like a drum, and bursts of light exploding against his eyelids in a rainbow of color — possible only after a night of heavy drinking. He got to bed very late last night, having stopped at Kit’s house for a late supper once they finally arrived in London. Cook, who’d been sound asleep when they got home and needed to be dragged out of bed, was only able to provide some cold meat, cheese and bread on such short notice, but that had suited them just fine as they took their plates into the parlor, rather than sitting down in the formal dining room and facing each other across the lengthy table. Kit wasn’t a stickler for formality, and Theo loved that about him. There was enough of that at Court.

  Kit seemed unusually restless and reluctant to be alone, so Theo stayed late into the night, drinking and playing at dice until he could barely see the dots. They swam before his eyes, refusing to stay in one place long enough for him to calculate the points before Kit took his turn, and making it impossible to keep score. Eventually they gave up, since neither one of them was able to make heads nor tails of the game, having drunk enough to down a horse or two.

  Theo had no reason to rush home since he was the only one in residence until the rest of the family returned from Kent, but it was time to go. Kit invited him to stay before stumbling off to bed, but Theo declined. His initial plan had been to collect some clean clothes and head to Beachwood in the morning, but the unbearable aching in his head quickly made him change his mind. Hours in the saddle on such a bright day would no doubt finish him off, and in the end, accomplish very little. He would make it to Beachwood just in time for the family to leave for London, everyone distracted by packing and closing up the house. Robin normally didn’t involve himself in that type of activity, but Beth tended to complicate things, turning every little task into a mammoth undertaking and whipping the servants into a state of nervous frenzy. It would be best to talk to him once he got home.

  Theo willed himself to get out of bed and close the shutters, blocking out the merciless light before stumbling back and falling face down onto the pillow. Just a few more hours of sleep and he would feel somewhat human again. Damn Kit for letting him drink so much. He smiled as he briefly thought of Louisa before falling into a dreamless sleep.

  **

  The room was dark and stifling by the time Theo finally woke up, thirsty and hungry. His mouth felt like dry wool and his shirt was stuck to his body, glued by sweat. At least the headache had abated and he could think straight once again, well, at least he would once he emptied his bursting bladder. Theo was just about to ring for a bath when he heard a woman’s voice outside his door. He didn’t need to look out to know who the voice belonged to — it was Celia, giggling as Robin planted a few more kisses on her powdered cheek before skipping down the stairs, perfectly coiffed and exquisitely painted, to go home to her husband. So Robin was back and in good spirits if Celia’s happy laughter could be believed. She was a consummate actress, always playing whatever part Robin wanted her to. It was no wonder she’d been his lover for years. She knew him better than he knew himself.

  Theo had just stripped off his damp shirt when Robin walked in without knocking. He was unshaved, tousled and unmistakably happy.

  “Theo, I’m glad you’re back. How are Uncle Kit and family?” Robin collapsed into a chair, watching Theo as he pulled on a clean shirt. “Hard night?”

  “I rode back with Uncle Kit and stayed for a few hours. I’m afraid we drank too much,” Theo replied in embarrassment. He didn’t like Robin seeing him this way, but Robin just nodded, unconcerned. Who didn’t get blind drunk once in a while?

  “I rode back yesterday as well; told Beth I had urgent business.” Robin scratched his stubbly jaw, scowling as he thought of his wife, who had no idea that the only urgent business he had was to bed his mistress.

  “That bad?”

  “She’s with child again. I suppose I should be happy, but you know how she gets — unbearable. I just have to glance at her the wrong way and she’s in tears for hours, accusing me of God knows what.” He shrugged as if his wife’s tears were of no consequence. “I just needed to spend some time with Celia. She always gives me what I need.”

  “Actually, Robin, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” Theo began, but Robin was already out of the chair, heading for the door.

  “And I will gladly listen to you over supper. I’m famished. Get dressed and come down. You look in need of a drink, but perhaps you should bathe first. I can smell you from here.”

  Chapter 27

  Robin was already seated at the table, which was laden with enough food to feed ten people. No eating in the parlor for him, Theo thought as he took his place and reached for a piece of pheasant. He’d let Robin eat before telling him about Louisa. Robin was always happier when well fed with a few cups of wine in him.

  “Have you seen Walter?” asked Robin, filling his plate with food.

  “No.”

  “I wager he’s playing the happy bridegroom,” Robin chuckled, taking a sip of claret and smiling benignly. “Wonder how long that will last before he gives some maid a full belly? What did you want to talk to me about?” Robin took a bite of steak pie and chewed slowly, his eyes on Theo. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess? Is it a woman?”

  Theo just nodded, suddenly tongue-tied. Why was he so nervous? Robin seemed in fine spirits, and he’d never denied his younger brother anything. All he had to do was present his case.

  “Robin, I’d like to get married,” he began as Robin’s face split into an unexpected grin.

  “That’s wonderful news, Theo. I actually have someone in mind for you. She’s young, comely, and her family is well-connected. They have a vast estate up north close to the Scottish border. If that comes to you through marriage, we will own nearly a quarter of this country.”

  “Robin, I have someone in mind,” interrupted Theo. “It’s Uncle Kit’s niece, Louisa Whitfield. She’s beautiful, sweet, and very clever. I think you would really like her.”

  Robin leaned back in his chair, studying Theo for a moment, his eyes narrowed in thought. “So, you’ve finally fallen in love. Have you had her yet?”

  “Robin, I want to marry her,” Theo repeated, his stomach twisting in apprehension. This wasn’t going quite as planned.

  “I heard you, brother.” Robin seemed to think for a moment, his pie forgotten. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, taking a gulp of wine to buy time. Theo pushed away his plate, the food no longer appealing. He hadn’t expected Robin to be so apprehensive.

  “Theo, you know I hate to deny you,” Robin began.

  “So don’t,” Theo pleaded. “I love her, Robin.”

  “The girl might be beautiful and charming, but she has no title or fortune. A plantation in Virginia, no matter how profitable, is not nearly as valuable as estates right here in England. Property is power, Theo, you know that.”

 
“Robin, we have more than enough property. Her father is not titled, but wealthy, so she’s not without fortune,” Theo replied, knowing that he’d lost the argument already.

  “Brother, the lack of fortune is not my only concern — she’s a Catholic, for God’s sake. We are a Protestant family and have been for generations. I won’t have a Papist in the family.” Robin shook his head as if contemplating the horror of having a Catholic sister-in-law. He wasn’t particularly fond of Louisa Sheridan, and now Theo understood why. The subject of her religion never came up, but Robin always kept his distance, preferring to deal with Kit at Whitehall rather than at home.

  “Robin, we have a Catholic king whose son will no doubt marry a Catholic princess. Would it really be so dire if I married a Catholic woman?” Theo knew that wouldn’t help his cause, but he couldn’t help using every last bit of logic to convince Robin. “Uncle Kit married a Catholic, and it hasn’t hindered him. He’s on the Privy Council and seems to have the backing of Buckingham.”

  Robin shook his head, clearly upset. Theo knew this wasn’t easy for him, but he took his duty to the family very seriously, and would oppose Theo to the last if he truly believed himself to be right.

  “Theo, Aunt Louisa is a fine woman, but she’s not a devout Papist and has agreed to raise the children Protestant, which is what really matters. In either case, Uncle Kit has always been somewhat unconventional in his choices. I will not permit such division within the family. It leads to nothing but trouble.” Robin looked away, unable to face his miserable brother.

  “I’m truly sorry, but I must decline your request. I’d tell you to use her to your heart’s content, but she’s Uncle Kit’s niece, so it’s probably best if you don’t see her again. I know you’re not in the right frame of mind just now, but when you are, I’d like to talk to you about Lady Mary Winslow. Her father is very eager to see our two families united.”