My Lady Notorious (36 page)

“Not for long,” said Cyn briskly, but not rudely.

The newcomer looked intrigued. Rothgar said, “I think it would be
wise for Brand to accompany you, Cyn.” For Rothgar, the tone was
remarkably tentative.

Cyn swung around. “Plague take it, I can find my way to London without a nursemaid!”

“So I would hope. But travel is always chancy, the roads are
cluttered with undesirables, and your mission appears to be important.
A companion could be useful and will not slow you down.”

Silence hung heavily for long moments, then Cyn said, “Very well. If
Brand is willing.” It was delivered in the manner of one agreeing to an
amputation.

“Nothing could please me more,” said Brand dryly. “And here I am dressed for riding. I’ll call for my cape and we’re off.”

He left the room. Cyn took a visible breath and walked back to his
brother. “I’m going to the Bishop of London, with the bridegroom’s
sworn statement. If you sent a note along, it might reassure Uncle
Cuthbert about the matter.”

It seemed a simple enough request, but Cyn had said he’d sworn not
to take help from Rothgar, and it was clearly true. Lady Elfled’s face,
and even Rothgar’s, told Chastity this moment held significance.

“There is no impediment to the marriage?” Rothgar asked calmly.

Cyn looked at Chastity. “Not to my knowledge.”

Chastity said, “Absolutely none, except the opposition of my father. As Verity is of age, that presents no legal impediment.”

Rothgar went to a desk, scrawled some words on a sheet of paper,
sanded, and sealed it. He gave it to Cyn. “You will take the license
directly to this Long Knotwell?”

“I had better.”

“Perhaps we should meet you there, then. Lady Chastity will wish to
see her sister wed, and it would be wise to have influential witnesses.”

Cyn frowned at Chastity. “She’s tired…”

“I’m well enough,” Chastity said quickly. “I want to be there and make sure everything is all right.”

“In a coach,” said Cyn firmly to his brother.

“But of course. It will, unfortunately, have to be my second one.”

Cyn let out a crack of laughter. “It will suffice. And as I intend
to marry Chastity as soon as possible, I’d appreciate it if you’d
consider how to restore her reputation and obtain her father’s approval
of the match.”

Brand overheard the request as he returned and let out a muttered “‘Struth!”

Even Rothgar seemed lost for words, but then he said, “‘Twill be my
pleasure.” There seemed to be layers of meaning to the simple words.

Cyn merely nodded, then he and Brand departed.

Chastity was left with the marquess and Lady Elfled.

Rothgar looked at Chastity again. It was not a particularly
unpleasant look, and yet it made her want to squirm. Cyn was right.
This moment would be a great deal easier if she knew in her heart she
was pure.

“We have work to do,” he said at last. “But I suspect you have been
hard-pressed, Lady Chastity. Why don’t you allow Elf to pamper you a
little, while I set some wheels in motion?”

“There is no need for this, my lord,” said Chastity firmly. “I know
the marriage is impossible, and Cyn will come to see that too.”

Rothgar’s brows shot up. “My dear! With a Malloren, all things are
possible.” With this bit of arrogant sacrilege, he left the room.

“Oh, dear,” said Lady Elfled.

Chastity swallowed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want this.”

In a moment, Lady Elfled was beside her on the chaise. “Please don’t
be upset, Lady Chastity. It’s not you I’m oh-dearing about. It’s us—the
Mallorens. We seem unable to do anything in a simple way… But you have
thawed the ice between Cyn and Rothgar. You are a blessing, not a
curse.”

That was laying it on a bit thick, thought Chastity. “I’m sure they could smooth any misunderstanding without my assistance.”

“One would think so, but they haven’t managed it for the past six years.”

Chastity stared at her. “They’ve been at outs for six years?”

Lady Elfled sighed. “At outs is not quite it. Cyn has come home on
furlough, for he certainly would not cut himself off from me, and there
have rarely been harsh words. But there have been barriers. Cyn has
never accepted any help. I wasn’t present, but I understand that when
Rothgar stopped Cyn from joining the army, he cast doubts upon his
ability to survive unaided.”

“How foolish,” Chastity declared. “On behalf of the marquess, I mean. Cyn is remarkably capable.”

“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” said Lady Elfled with glowing pride. “But
truly, one wouldn’t have guessed when he was younger. It was one scrape
after another for both of us. Rothgar has accepted the truth for
years—he’s very proud of him. But you know men. Once they take these
positions, it’s as if they are on either side of a gulf with no way to
cross. You, my dear, are a much-needed bridge.”

Lady Elfled Malloren was totally charming, and her welcome of
Chastity seemed genuine. It occurred to Chastity to wonder why such a
pretty, gentle woman had not married by twenty-four. It was doubtless
true that Cyn was prettier—something in the bones—but with her red-gold
hair and clear complexion, Lady Elfled was not lacking, and her manner
was lively and kind.

Chastity decided to put the lady’s mind at rest. “I’m pleased to be
a bridge, my lady, and I will not create a new chasm. I meant what I
said. I am not going to marry Cyn.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“He didn’t take it to heart, but he will when he realizes how impossible it is.”

Lady Elfled laughed. “My dear, you have a great deal to learn about
Mallorens. Rothgar does not know the meaning of the word impossible,
and Cyn is never balked from his goals. That is why they came to such a
crisis in the first place. Now, as we are to be sisters, you must call
me Elf, if you do not find it too ridiculous. And I will call you
Chastity.”

There seemed no point in fighting over it, and so Chastity agreed.

“Good. I am going to enjoy having you here. You can have no idea how
tedious it can be to be alone with just brothers. Men have no true
sensibility.”

Chastity’s expression must have protested that, for Elf grinned and
said, “Are you going to tell me Cyn is the heart of sensibility? It
must be the power of love, for I’ve not noted it before. Now,” she said
briskly. “I am going to be very sisterly and suggest that what you
would like above all things is a bath, and some more suitable clothes.”

Chastity blushed to think of what she must look and smell like, but
she could not take offense at such a delightful offer. “Yes, I would.”

“Come, then.”

Orders were given and Chastity was led upstairs to Lady Elfled’s own room, cozy with a fire.

“I believe we are of a size,” her hostess said, and waved a hand at
a set of armoires. “Choose what you will.” A maid came in and Elf said,
“Ah, Chantal, assist Lady Chastity. Do you mind if I stay?” she asked
Chastity.

Chastity thought of her weals, bruises, and scarlet nipples. “I would prefer to bathe in private.”

It was a strange request from a woman who had been raised with
servants, and she saw Elf’s eyes register it, but nothing was said.

Two more maids came in with a tea-tray, and plates of cold meat and
cheese, breads, and cakes. The two ladies nibbled as Chantal presented
clothes for their approval.

“If you’re traveling to the wedding,” Elf said, “you want something elegant but not too fragile. What colors do you favor?”

Despite her resolution to cut Cyn free, the sight of such masses of
beautiful clothes made Chastity long to appear before him just once as
her true self—the beautiful Chastity Ware. “A deep pink has always been
my best color,” she said, “but I don’t think…”

Elf clapped her hands. “Chantal!
La langue de la reine
!” As the maid went to another armoire, Elf said to Chastity, “It was
absolutely
the color a year ago, but it turned out to be quite impossible with my hair.”

Chantal spread a beautiful gown on the bed. It was a deep raspberry
silk, sprigged in a lighter shade and ruched around the edges of the
open skirt. From a drawer came a petticoat of cream, sprigged in the
raspberry shade, and a stomacher of matching brocade and seed pearls.

“Lud,” sighed Elf, “I’m falling in love with it all over again…
But,” she said quickly, “take it. You’ll be doing me a kindness.
Chantal will kiss your feet!”

“Indeed, milady,” said the maid with a giggle. “Once or twice a
month Milady Elfled orders the dress, and I die a thousand deaths until
she decides against it.”

It was only too clear that the color would be disastrous against
Elf’s pale skin and red hair, and so Chastity blissfully agreed.

Silk underwear was also laid out, and then they were told the bath was ready in the dressing room.

Chastity took the stockings and chemise and went to bathe herself, only too conscious of being remarkable.

Once stripped she looked at her body in a clear light. No wonder Cyn
had been angry. She had scrapes and bruises she’d not even been aware
of. The weals on her thighs were a dull red. She had dark finger-marks
on her arms, and a nasty swelling on her temple where the odious Pog
had felled her.

And there were the nipples. What had it cost Cyn not to even mention them during their lovemaking at the inn?

For a moment she felt like finding a hole to hide in, but then she
reminded herself that Cyn had never seen her looking pretty. He would.
Just this once.

She sank into the huge painted tin bathtub with a sigh of
contentment. The water was just the right temperature, and a delicate
perfumed oil had been added. On a stand beside the tub were cloths and
fine soap. This was the life to which she had been raised.

She washed every inch, then she tossed off her wig and washed her
hair. In this one respect, her disfiguring crop was useful. She dried
it with a towel and relaxed in the tub.

She forced herself to face her bleak future. Even Nana was doubtless
now barred to her. Her father would cast her off entirely, and she
couldn’t cling to Cyn. She’d have to take care of herself.

The thought terrified her.

Perhaps she could be an actress… But she had no particular talent in
that direction, and most actresses were said to be whores. If she
couldn’t bring herself to be Cyn’s whore, she certainly could be no
other man’s.

She thought back to Cyn’s request of Rothgar—that her reputation be
restored and her father’s consent be obtained. If only… But the
reaction of all present had emphasized just how impossible a dream it
was.

She climbed out of the bath before she fell to weeping. She dried
herself, combed out the wig, and put it on. She dropped the silk
chemise over her head, and it slithered down to her calves. This was a
more proper garment than the one her father had provided, or the one
she’d found at Rood House. It was delicate but opaque, and hid most of
her wounds. It was beautifully edged with white-on-white embroidery at
the hem and neck, and included a foam of exquisite silk lace at the
elbows.

It made Chastity feel beautiful just to wear it.

She eased on the white silk stockings clocked with rosebuds and tied
the pink garters, smiling sadly at the memory of the garters Cyn had
bought in Shaftesbury. Perhaps she could rescue those garters if Verity
still had them, and treasure them into her lonely old age.

The tickling little fear came back to her. What if she were
pregnant? But she wouldn’t let that sway her. She must find a way to
cut Cyn free. She would handle other problems when she had to.

When she returned to the bedroom, Lady Elfled smiled at her. “Do dress. I can’t
wait
to see that gown on you. I’m sure it will be perfect.”

Chantal assisted Chastity into the hoop frame which would hold the
light skirts out without the bulk of heavy petticoats. The white silk
petticoat that went on top hardly weighed a thing. The brocade
stomacher felt comfortingly secure around her torso and over her
breasts.

Chastity watched in the mirror as the layers performed a magical
alchemy upon her appearance. Her spirits lifted. It was like armor—a
fragile, gossamer armor, but armor all the same. Within it she felt all
woman, and empowered.

“You have a lovely figure,” said Elf frankly. “Your waist is trimmer than mine. To achieve that effect, I’d have to be gasping.”

When Chantal had tied the stomacher laces, she held up the gown and
Chastity slid her arms into the sleeves. The maid fastened it at the
front and, with a slither of silk on silk, the outfit was complete.

“
Parfait
,” breathed Chantal.

“Indeed,” said Elf. “That certainly is your color.”

Chastity smiled at the image in the mirror. The deep pink brought
out roses in her cheeks and lips; the beautiful cut of the stomacher
pushed up the swell of her breasts without the slightest hint of
indecency; the opaque silk of the chemise covered that swell in a soft,
tantalizing cloud.

She moved, feeling the light silken skirts sway and dance, held out
to a six-foot span by the hoops. She twirled and sank into a
court-curtsy, laughing for the delight of being a woman.

Elf took her hands to raise her. “Oh,” she said, “I wish I had what you have!”

“What is that?” asked Chastity.

“A power over men.”

Chastity felt her face burn. “I don’t… If I do, it has served me ill.”

“Has it?” asked Elf, rather sadly. “But you have Cyn ready to fight dragons for you.”

Chastity didn’t understand the wistfulness in the other woman’s
eyes. Surely Lady Elfled Malloren, with her rank, her dowry, her looks,
and her sweet nature, had attracted the attention of many men. “I’m
sure any man would be willing to fight dragons for you too, Elf.”

“Perhaps,” said Elf, but with a sigh. Then, “Come,” she said
briskly, before Chastity could comment, “let Chantal apply a little
maquillage
to conceal that bruise, and we will see what my august brother has planned.”