Virginia Henley (34 page)

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Authors: Seduced

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* * *

As it happened, it was not Adam Savage Tony had seen at Vauxhall Tonight he was running the Channel under cover of dark. It was the third night this week he’d sailed to France. For Savage there were parallels with the years he’d spent smuggling for a living. Now he had other motives in addition to profit; nevertheless, carrying illicit cargo still gave that curl of excitement to the gut because of the danger involved. It was a seductive, addictive pleasure, which he hoped he had almost outgrown and could live without.

His thoughts were suddenly filled with the girl he had encountered in Venice. Why was she proving so elusive? No trace of Ann Lambeth had been found and he realized she must have given him a false name. She came to him again and again, sometimes at the most inappropriate moments. Her elusiveness only added to his obsession. She was like a drug; one taste and he craved her in his blood, wanting more, needing more. He cursed his own folly. His jaw set implacably. He needed no one. There were other females in the world with green eyes and long legs. In any case, he had an understanding with Eve and he intended to stick with his plan for practical reasons. He was past thirty and a little long in the tooth for romantic flights of fancy, and if he had gauged the Prince of Wales correctly, he was fairly close to the title Eve coveted.

At the moment His Highness was leading Maria Fitzherbert from the glittering, crown-shaped theater box at Vauxhall. The blanketing fog had spoiled the plans for the pyrotechnical display, but George was not in the least disappointed for it meant he would be alone with his lady sooner than anticipated.

Once they were enclosed in the opulent carriage, he touched her thigh with his and slid his arm about his beloved.

“Pussy, come home with me tonight?”

“Prinny, you know I cannot. I am a widow who must not
besmirch her reputation. If I spent one night under your roof, people would say we were living together in sin. For your sake as well as mine, I must go home to Park Street.”

“Then let me lease you a house in St. James’s Square where you may entertain me and our friends and the gossips could not say we were living together.”

“A house in St. James’s Square would cost the earth and you are already in so much debt, Prinny my love.”

He removed his arm from her, hurt at her Words. “So, Mr. Fitzherbert was allowed to give you a house, but not I.”

“Mr. Fitzherbert was my husband,” Maria said gravely.

“Pussycat, I think of you as my wife, but, alas, you do not consider me your husband,” he said with great bathos.

“Prinny, darling, it is the King and Parliament who do not consider you my husband. Your father would never acknowledge me as the Princess of Wales and Parliament would never allow me to wear the crown jewels.”

Sadly, George knew she spoke the truth. He was determined, however, in that moment to provide her with jewels fit for a princess.

Maria chose her next words very carefully. She placed her hand upon his knee and said softly, “If we had a wedding ceremony, I would most assuredly consider you my husband.”

“Give me your little paw, Pussykins. Fido is lonely without your touch. See if you can persuade him to lift his head and come out of his little kennel.”

Maria patted and stroked Fido and indeed he did lift his head and creep from hiding. George put his lips to Maria’s ear. “If you offer him a treat, I believe you could persuade him to perform a little trick, like sitting up.”

Maria giggled and offered up the treat her prince slavered for. As his hot mouth closed about her succulent nipple, Fido not only sat up, he began to wag his tail.

Chapter 32

Adam Savage smiled cynically when he read the note from His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales. Every man had his price, most especially royalty. He regretted that he could not summon George to Half-Moon Street but must attend him at Carlton House. It would mean that he would have to send a note to Countess Cowper postponing their meeting and he would also be late for the House.

He took the diamonds and sapphires from their locked drawer for what he hoped was the last time and walked the short distance to Carlton House. Savage’s shrewd blue eyes discerned that the Prince looked anxious.

“My dearest Savage, I hope you brought the jewels.”

“I did, Sire,” Savage replied, touching his breast pocket, but not yet producing them.

“It is no easy task to locate a vacant marquessate nor get a gentleman approved in that title, but apparently you have considerable influence in the House at the moment and with me as your patron I have every reason to believe the title can be conferred upon you shortly.” Prince George paused, allowing Savage time to deliver up the jewels. Savage did not.

His Highness ran a finger about the inside of his towering neckcloth in hope of loosening it a fraction. The leeches that had been applied this morning to make his complexion pale had been an utter waste of time, for he was exceedingly florid at the moment.

He cleared his throat and stepped to a great globe of the world beside his desk. “Actually, my dear fellow, it will have to be the Irish peerage.” When Savage did not protest,
George brightened. “You have a choice. The Marquessate of Blackwater in County Waterford, or—let’s see, what was the other? Ah, yes, the Marquessate of Kin-sale on the coast of Cork.”

Savage’s light blue eyes followed the Prince’s finger as it touched Ireland. “How very accommodating you are, Your Grace.” He produced the black velvet bag and displayed the dazzling jewels like a conjurer producing a rabbit from a hat.

George’s face beamed. He could not resist picking them up to hold their fire and ice in his hands. “They are magnificent. They will show the lady just how much I wish to honor her.”

“If I may be so presumptuous as to make a suggestion, Sire? A crown of precious jewels would make a lady feel like a princess and all who beheld her would honor her as a princess.”

George’s face lit as if he had just been given divine inspiration. “Do you possess such a crown of jewels?”

Savage’s scarred mouth stretched into a rare smile. “I do, Sire.”

George closed his eyes, not daring to contemplate what Indian Savage’s price would be for such a prize, but he knew he would meet that price, however high it proved to be. In his heart he knew Maria would never receive a royal crown, so it would be up to him to provide her with a coronet of her own. He was brought out of his reverie when Savage spoke.

“Though I am exceedingly busy, I shall endeavor to visit both these properties as soon as may be and let Your Highness know my preference.”

“Very good. They are both ancient castles, you know. It will take deep pockets for their upkeep,” George warned.

Savage bowed and took his leave. He had nothing if not deep pockets, and he didn’t give a good goddamn that old money was revered, while new money was thought sordid.

* * *

The Prince of Wales decided that tonight was
the
night, and though he had enjoyed the anticipation, he reasoned that he had waited long enough.

“George, I cannot come into your bedchamber, it is most improper.”

“Give me your little paw, Pussycat.” The Prince of Wales clasped Maria’s hand and began to pull her. “I am about to pop a very intimate question, Pussy. The privacy of my bedchamber is the only sanctuary where our secrets are safe, my dearest one.”

Maria allowed herself to be persuaded, albeit coyly.

Prince George sat her down upon a thronelike gilt chair covered in Chinese silk and went down before her on bended knee. “Unworthy as I am my dearest angel, it would make me the happiest man on earth if you would consent to be my wife. I shall cherish you forever and a day and hereby pledge you all my love and devotion.”

“Oh, George darling, your words make me weep with happiness. My answer would be yes, yes, a thousand times yes, if only it were possible.”

He shifted to the other knee. “I have arranged everything with the help of some devoted friends. We shall have the ceremony on Friday evening at your little house on Park Street. Your two uncles shall be witnesses and my dear aide Orlando Bridgeman, who, being from Shropshire, is acquainted with your family will stand guard outside to make sure that the Prime Minister does not try to stop the ceremony.”

“But, dearest, what about the Marriage Act?” asked a practical Maria.

“Our marriage, though a secret one, will be legal in the eyes of the Church. The moment I am King I shall get the Act repealed and marry you again so that it will also be legal in the eyes of the Crown. Reverend Robert Burt has agreed to perform the ceremony.” He did not add that he had been bribed with five hundred pounds and the promise of preferment.

Maria saw the diamond rings on the Prince’s fingers and the great Star upon his breast and told herself that she was not dreaming. This really was the Prince of Wales who was proposing marriage to her. A slightly irregular marriage, perhaps, but a marriage nonetheless.

“Oh, George, my dearest love, I can deny you no longer.”

George got up off his knees, flushed with victory. He fumbled in his breast pocket and brought forth a velvet pouch that he placed in Maria’s little paw. “You are the fairest jewel in the Kingdom, outshining all others, but I want you to have this necklace as a token of my deep respect for you, Maria.”

She gasped at the diamonds and sapphires. “I do not want jewels, George, I want only you, but if it makes you happy, then I shall be honored to accept your gift as a love token.”

He swept her into his arms. “Pussy, you have made me the happiest man in the world. Until this moment I have never known what happiness is.” He kissed her deeply, overcome with emotion. A tear rolled down his florid cheek. “Ah, Pussykins, we will have such fun together. Do you know that when I was a boy my tutors whipped me whenever they caught me trying to have a little fun? Once, I remember, they caught me jumping on the bed and gave me a cruel thrashing.”

“Oh, Prinny my love, I shall try to make up for all that you suffered at their hands.”

“Pussy, will you jump on the bed with me?” he asked with childlike sincerity.

“Now?” she asked faintly.

“Yes, now, my lovely little playmate. Let me take your slippers!”

They both removed their shoes and George climbed upon the vast bed and aided Maria to climb up beside him. They held hands and bounced together. The second
jump resulted in a fall and they tumbled together, laughing like children.

The Prince was now in an amorously playful mood as they scrambled from the big bed. “Let’s play a game, Pussykins. You know how to make all my cares fall from my shoulders.”

“What shall we play, Prinny my love?”

“Forfeits. I’ll get the cards.” The sly devil cheated of course, first taking her fan, then a stocking and then her gown. He let Maria win, too, so that he could forfeit his stock, waistcoat, and monogrammed shirt.

Whey they were in a state of deshabille, Maria blushing and giggling, George laughing and hardening, the cards were forgotten in favor of a little foreplay. Maria Fitzherbert excited the Prince more than any woman he had ever known. She had a lovely face and a complexion like roses and cream. Her hair was so pretty, she never wore it powdered, allowing the pale golden-yellow tresses to fall artlessly about her plump shoulders. But it was her breasts that excited His Highness the most. They were extremely large and soft, giving her a voluptuous yet maternal body for which George lusted and hungered.

With a boyishly mischievous look in his eyes George produced a pink silk bag. It was a newly invented toy called a balloon.

“Whatever is that, Georgie?”

“It’s a clever little toy modeled on the hot-air balloon. Warm air makes it float about. Let’s play one last game, Pussy.” As he inflated the silk bag with his warm breath their dalliance began in earnest.

George bounced the balloon off Maria’s breasts and then her buttocks. Soon he was boldly trying to bat it with his long erection, watching Maria’s blushes turn her titties as pink as the balloon. The warm air in the room floated it higher and higher and as Maria jumped for it, her beautiful breasts bounced up and down until he was in a frenzy
of desire. He enfolded her in his arms and they sprawled breathlessly across the great bed.

Lying upon her back, looking up at the ceiling, Maria saw their naked bodies reflected in the mirrors. It was extremely erotic. She watched in fascination as he mounted her. She had never enjoyed anything so thrilling before. Both her previous husbands had been elderly. George was an extremely large man in the prime of his youth. Maria’s body turned him into a vigorous lover.

She was soon wet and slippery with the friction of his great sword of state. She bit her lips as wave after wave of pure pleasure washed over her, but finally she could keep silent no longer. She became so vocal in her excitement that it spurred George to new depths.

Holding a magnificent breast in each hand he plunged to the hilt one last time, then they both cried out their fulfillment. Later as she cradled him in her arms and felt his hot mouth suckle her nipple until he fell asleep, she lay staring up into the mirrors thinking how strange life could be. She had been no more than a nurse to her elderly husbands; now, at the opposite end of the scale, she was a playmate for a boy who would be King.

When Tony awoke it took only a few seconds for her to remember the horrors of the previous night. Her spirits sank immediately and a sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She could not keep what had happened to herself, yet she did not want to frighten her grandmother.

Tony decided to talk to Mr. Burke, and since Roz never came downstairs before the civilized hour of ten, there was no time like the present. At breakfast she signaled to Mr. Burke that she wished to see him privately, and the trusted servant, who had been worried about his young mistress for some time, hoped Antonia would take him into her confidence.

Tony left the table and made her way to a salon that was usually only used for entertaining callers. Mr. Burke followed
in a few minutes and deliberately closed the salon doors against the inquisitive maids.

Tony was longing for a smoke, but curbed her desire in front of Mr. Burke. “Something dreadful happened last night. My cousin must have stalked me to Vauxhall Gardens. I took the precaution of joining a group of acquaintances knowing there was safety in numbers, but somehow, in the fog, I found myself alone and knew I was being followed. I panicked. I lost my way and ran. I felt so trapped, Mr. Burke, like a rabbit being run to ground.” A wedge of fear formed in her throat as she relived being hunted down.

Mr. Burke saw her hands tremble and for one terrible moment feared she had been ravished. “Go on, my dear. You can tell me anything,” he said gently.

“I knew I must get out of Vauxhall Gardens immediately. Danger lurked down every pathway, beneath every tree. I finally found the entrance gates and heaved a great sigh of relief to find myself out on the busy thoroughfare. My relief was short lived. I was pushed from behind and went down into the road beneath the hooves and wheels of an oncoming carriage. That I escaped death this time was nothing short of a miracle. Somehow the horses sidestepped my body and the carriage went over me without crushing me with its wheels.”

“My God, you were injured last night when you arrived home and I did nothing.”

Tony shook her head. “I was only shaken up and bruised, but I sustained more than bruises. It has left me frightened. Really frightened, Mr. Burke. I’m not afraid to face Bernard Lamb. I met him on the dueling field without too much trepidation, but now he’s stalking me. I have no idea when he will strike me down and I am suddenly vulnerable and frightened to death.”

Mr. Burke’s lips formed a hard line and his fists clenched impotently. “The filthy coward. His mind is twisted and evil. Your guardian must be informed, my
lady. It is his duty to protect you. From now on I shall accompany you wherever you go and I shall not be unarmed!” Mr. Burke had thought for a long time that the burden of saving Lamb Hall was too heavy for the frail shoulders of a girl. The masquerade had seemed plausible in the beginning, but he should never have sanctioned such a shocking, shameful scheme. He should have realized Antonia would be in peril after Bernard Lamb had caused Anthony’s death.

Tony’s shoulders slumped. “The very thought of having to tell Adam Savage and risking his contempt is abhorrent to me. However, I suppose I have no choice. I have nowhere else to turn. Will you come with me to Half-Moon Street?”

Mr. Burke suggested he follow Antonia rather than walking with her. That way he would be able to observe anyone who was watching for young Lord Lamb and would also be able to keep her back safe.

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