A Game of Shadows (12 page)

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 closed 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.

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.

Th
eo 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.”

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 a
n 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.”

Theo’s chair scraped the stone floor as he pushed it away from the table, walking out of the dining room without another word.  His hands were shaking
, and his heart pounding as he realized the impact of Robin’s decision.  Louisa was now lost to him forever unless he turned his back on his title and inheritance.  Would she even want him if he were penniless?

Theo stepped out into the muggy evening, unsure of where he was going.  The streets were dark, illuminated only by patches of light spilling from windows onto the muck
-strewn sidewalk.  Few people were out, keeping to the middle of the road for fear of being set upon in the shadows and robbed, or worse.  The occasional carriage rattled by, but otherwise, all was quiet.  Theo walked toward the Thames, hoping it was cooler by the water.  The smell of seaweed and rotting fish accosted his senses, but he hardly noticed; he was too wrapped up in his misery. 

Orbs of yellow light bobbed above the black surface of the water as packet boats crossed the river, ferrying people across even at this time of night, the boatmen calling out to each other from time to time.  Theo sat on a
barrel and watched as the river lazily flowed past him, oblivious to his troubles.  He’d given Louisa his word of honor, and he would keep it.  He just needed to think of something he could use to change Robin’s mind, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of a damn thing.   One thing he knew for certain — he wasn’t going to lose her.