Lord Rakehell (3 page)

The redhead who had opened the show smiled at James. “Hello, luv! I'm Nellie. Looking for some company tonight, are you?”

“Indeed we are.” James's glance traveled about the room, quickly assessing the female pulchritude. His sense of decency made him eliminate the youngest girls, and he smiled at the shapely singers who looked to be in their twenties.

Charles Carrington greeted a young woman with large breasts and dark golden hair.

“My name's Dora—how do ye do, m'lord?”

“Allow me to introduce Viscount Charles and Baron Renfrew. I'm Lord James.”

“It's a pleasure to meet ye, Lord James.” The dark-haired beauty gave him a saucy wink. “I'm Kitty. Is this yer first visit to the music hall?”

Baron Renfrew found his voice. “Our first of many, I sincerely hope.”

“Nellie, Kitty, Dora, would you ladies care to join us for a late supper?”

The three
ladies
preened when they realized they had been chosen from the large selection available. “It would be our great pleasure, gentlemen,” Nellie declared. “Would you kindly wait outside while we change?”

Prince Teddy bowed and led the way from the dressing room. “Well done, James!”

In a scant few minutes the three women emerged wearing cloaks and fashionable bonnets adorned with brilliant ostrich feathers.

“How does the Oyster Cellar in John's Lane sound?” James suggested. “It's close enough that we can walk.”

“Sounds bleedin' good to me,” Dora declared, slipping her arm through Carrington's.

“Sounds a real treat,” Nellie said, and Kitty nodded her head in agreement.

Though it was after eleven at night, the streets were filled with people making their way from Dublin's many theaters to the various public houses that provided food, drink, laughter, and camaraderie.

Their party was shown to a table that seated six, and the women waited politely for the men to order. “What would you like, ladies?”

“What do you suggest, Lord James?” Nellie was being cautious. Though clearly the men were well-heeled, she didn't want to sound greedy.

“How about oysters and champagne?”

Three pairs of manicured eyebrows rose. Most men were willing to spring for ale, or even gin, but never offered champagne. “Are you sure?” Nellie asked.

Renfrew smiled indulgently. “My dearest ladies, you may have anything you fancy.”

“In that case, I'll have cowheels and champagne,” Dora decided.

The prince had no idea that people actually consumed cows' heels, but he did not question her. Nellie ordered oysters and Kitty asked for prawns and champagne.

The men all wanted oysters, but only the prince ordered champagne. The other two preferred ale.

The Oyster Cellar had a pair of fiddlers and the customers' voices rang out with song. Since the trio of females from the music hall had already sung for their supper, they were content to eat, drink, and be merry.

James kept a casual eye on the prince, who he knew was having the time of his life. The prince had long been starved of fun and laughter and was making up for lost time. He ate more oysters, drank more champagne, and laughed longer and harder at the witty repartee than any other patron in the room.

Finally, when everything had been devoured, they were the only customers left in the cellar. James paid the reckoning and generously tipped their waiter.

“It would be fun to continue the party.” Dora reached for her cloak, both ready and willing to pay the piper. “Where are you gentlemen staying?”

“At the castle.” James stood and placed Kitty's cloak about her shoulders, then moved around the table to Nellie. “Would you care to join us?”

The females were momentarily silent, as their estimation of the English gentlemen shot up a few rungs. Each wondered hopefully if she was being entertained by royalty.

James murmured in Nellie's ear, “I'm holding auditions for a starring role.”

She searched his face. “Then lead on, Macduff.”

•   •   •

As the group got close to Dublin Castle, the females fell back to walk together so they could exchange their thoughts. Nellie confided what Lord James had said about holding auditions for a starring role, and Kitty cautioned that the nobles likely hadn't given their real names. Dora murmured, “I don't give a shyte who they are. They're important toffs, they've got money, and that's good enough fer yours truly.”

“I think Viscount Charles has singled you out, Dora.”

“I
know
he has! But I'll still audition for Lord Bleedin' James.”

When the young women were ushered into the state apartments of Dublin Castle, they were agog at the luxurious chambers. They were invited to make themselves comfortable in the spacious drawing room, and they removed their cloaks and bonnets.

“Before you sit down, let me show you where the amenities are.” James took the trio along a carpeted hall, which led to the wing that held the bedchambers and bathrooms.

Dora patted her curls into place, and her eyes lit with mischief. “I'll audition first.”

James grinned. “By all means.” He waited until Nellie and Kitty went into the bathroom to freshen up, then took Dora into a small private room. The moment the door shut, she closed the distance between them, slipped her arms about his neck, rubbed her breasts against his chest, and offered her mouth for his ravishment.

James cupped her breast with his palm, but he did not kiss her. “If you were given the choice between two young nobles, one with sexual experience and the other without, which would you prefer?”

Dora looked incredulous. “A noble without experience? There's no such animal!” Her hand moved down to stroke his cock, and proved her point.

James chuckled. “Would you be amenable to spending the night with Baron Renfrew, if you were invited?”

“I'd have no objection. But I think Viscount Charles was more smitten with me.”

James nodded. “I rather think so too, Dora.” He escorted her to the door. “Would you ask Nellie to join me?”

The beauteous redhead glided in and closed the door softly. “What is the role I'm auditioning for, Lord James?”

“I serve a gentleman who's had absolutely no experience with women. He needs a tutor who will guide him to assume the dominant role and make him feel like a man.”

“He needs a bed partner who will be playful rather than aggressive?”

“Exactly.”

“You are speaking of Baron Renfrew,” she said shrewdly. “How old is he?”

“Nineteen. Do you believe you could fulfill this delicate role, Nellie?”

“Yes, I would have no difficulty. Who
is
Baron Renfrew?”

“That's rather confidential.”

Nellie's eyes widened. “Oh Jaysus, is it
Bertie
, the quayn's son?”

“Never call him
Bertie
.
It is what his mother calls him and he detests it. He prefers Teddy.” James asked earnestly, “Will you provide the affection he so desperately seeks?”

“It would be my great honor, my lord.”

“I am in your debt. What's your full name, my dear?”

“It's Nellie Clifden, singer and actress extraordinaire.”

James winked. “I am counting on it.”

When he opened the door, he saw that Kitty was still waiting, but Dora had returned to the drawing room. “Thank you, Nellie. Join the others and I'll be along shortly.”

When he and Kitty were alone, she looked at him ruefully. “You've already chosen Nellie.” Her dark lashes swept down, hiding the disappointment in her eyes. “Why didn't I get a chance at the role, Lord James?”

He lifted her fingers to his lips and as she raised her lashes, he smiled into her eyes.

“Because I was saving you for myself, sweetheart.”

“Y
ou've taken to this military camp like an otter takes to water.” James handed Prince Teddy a glass of claret.

“A fortnight back when I was greeted by a salute fired by the field battery of Horse Artillery, followed by a grand review and a brigade review, I feared the Grenadier Guards would hate me to a man. But once all the blasted formality was out of the way, they welcomed me as one of them.”

“It's because you don't put on royal airs. You love nothing better than to share a drink and a smoke with them, and are not averse to telling a lewd joke.”

“They are good ch
aps. They don't even resent me getting these grand quarters that belonged to Lord Seaton when he was commander of the Irish forces.”

Charles Carrington lit a cigar. “The only fly in the ointment is the pair of Grenadier Guards standing sentry outside the door.”

James smiled. “They are no problem. A sovereign a day guarantees they will turn a blind eye to any illicit activity we care to indulge.”

“I like being here. My life at Buckingham Palace is a prison compared to this. I enjoy the army exercises each morning. Riding and target practice are enjoyable, and even weapon cleaning and learning how to care for my own mount give me satisfaction.”

“Racket ball in the afternoon and gambling in the evening aren't hard to take either,” James declared.

“I had no idea that the Curragh Plain was used to train racehorses. The horseshoe-shaped course is a perfect six furlongs. I'm a good judge of horseflesh—I've won most of the bets I've placed,” Teddy said proudly.

“Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I'm off to enjoy the hospitality of the
Wrens of the Curragh
.” Carrington drained his claret. “Enjoy your card game.”

Teddy stared after Charles as the door closed. “Are
Wrens
what I think they are?”

“Yes, they are prostitutes who service the military men.” James noticed the speculative expression on Teddy's face. “I wouldn't recommend it, Your Highness—far too indiscreet. Why don't you send an invitation to Nellie?”

“By God, if you could arrange that, James, I would be forever in your debt.”

•   •   •

Within twenty-four hours, Nellie Clifden arrived in a coach that Lord Hamilton provided. James made arrangements for the songbird to stay at the nearby Magdalene Abbey, and that night when dark descended, his fellow officers took great delight in conspiring to smuggle Nellie into the private quarters of the Prince of Wales.

By the end of a sennight the late visits became a routine part of Prince Teddy's military training schedule. The Grenadier Guards closed ranks to keep the royal secret from their commander in chief, and from the prince's governor, Major General Bruce.

“James, you reign supreme among gentlemen of the bedchamber.” Teddy removed his uniform, and donned a smoking jacket. “I must think of a suitable reward.”

“Well, there is something I've been meaning to ask, Your Highness. Now that you have settled in here, I would like your permission to visit my constituents in Donegal.”

“By all means, James. Since you are in Ireland, it would be remiss to ignore the people you represent in Parliament. I can dispense with your services for a time, since you have provided me with all the creature comforts.”

“Thank you. I warrant two or three weeks will be adequate to deal with my Donegal constituents' petitions. I should be back by the end of July, or early August at the latest.”

“Your birthday is in August—we'll celebrate. How old will you be, James?”

“I shall be an old man of twenty-three.”

“I wish I were twenty-three.” The prince gazed into his glass of claret.

“Don't wish your life away, Teddy. Savor every day, and especially the nights.”

The prince grinned. “I'll drink to that.”

•   •   •

Grosvenor Square, London

July 23, 1861

“I'm eighteen today!” Lady Anne Howe welcomed Frances and Maud Hamilton to her birthday party. “Hello, John Claud.”
Your name wasn't included on the invitation.

“Are you sure you're eighteen, Anne?” Frances asked doubtfully. “I thought you were younger than I am. How old are you
really
?”

“It's rude to ask a lady her age,” John Claud chastised his sister.

Frances Hamilton rolled her eyes. “He insisted on escorting us even though our house is just around the corner.”

“My brother Montagu will be happy you came, John Claud. Spending the afternoon with a gaggle of debutantes is akin to torture on the rack to him. Ah, speak of the devil, and in a puff of brimstone, here he is.”

“Hello, John Claud.” Montagu shook hands. “Shall we take refuge in the library?”

“I hope your father joins us. I never tire of hearing about his years as lord chamberlain when he was in charge of Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, and all who held office. He is a well of information to anyone interested in a royal appointment.”

The young ladies moved into the drawing room and greeted Anne's other friends, Florence Paget and her sister, who were the daughters of the Earl of Uxbridge. Though Lady Florence would soon be nineteen, she looked younger than the other girls because she was rather small.

Frances lowered her voice. “John Claud professes interest in your father, but I think he came to see you. My brother is smitten with you, even if you are only
seventeen
.”

“You are quite wrong, Frances. I have decided to be eighteen,” Anne informed her friend, “so that I shall be presented to the queen along with you this year.”

“How the devil can you arrange that?”

“You forget, my sister Emily is lady-in-waiting to Queen Victoria.”
The real truth is that Father has so many offspring he doesn't have the faintest idea how old I am. Last night when Mother announced it was my eighteenth birthday, everyone accepted it.

Maud threw Anne a look of alarm. “Emily isn't coming to your party, is she?”

“Have no fear—she condescended to come last night to the family birthday dinner.”

“Did she bring you a gift?”

“Unfortunately, yes. She gave me a wine-colored shawl that clashes with my creamy-colored hair, knowing full well it will make me look hideous. Tomorrow I shall take it back to Madame Mantalini's and exchange it for one of pale lavender.”

The Hamilton sisters greatly admired Anne. She was unconventional and passionate about everything from friendship to fashion, and even designed some of her own clothes.

“Did Emily bring any gossip from Buckingham Palace?” Frances asked avidly.

“As a matter of fact she did. She loves nothing better than impressing her older brothers and their wives with royal gossip.” Anne lowered her voice. “She said that the queen and the Princess Royal are conspiring to find a bride for the Prince of Wales. Emily says the queen and Albert favor a German princess, but Princess Vicky disagrees. She wrote that the
Danish
royal family has lovely daughters.”

“The Prince of Wales is very young, but then Princess Vicky was married when she was barely seventeen. She was engaged to Frederick of Prussia when she was fourteen.”

“My own mother was married when she was sixteen,” Anne confided. “Father was more than
three
times her age. He truly robbed the cradle.”

“Do you think it was a love match?” eleven-year-old Maud asked innocently.

“Well, I don't doubt that Father was enamored of
her
, but I warrant she would have preferred a young husband over one who was on the wrong side of fifty, and had a grown family of ten from his first wife, to boot.”

“You're more fortunate than us,” Florence Paget pointed out. “Our father has had
three
wives. Our new stepmother is shockingly young.”

“We must be the exception,” Frances Hamilton said. “I think our father is only a year older than Mother.”

“You are lucky. Your parents have a
perfect
marriage. It's obvious theirs was a love match. I warrant Lady Lu and the duke are
still
in love. That's the kind of marriage I want!” Anne declared passionately. Ever since Anne met James at Windsor Castle, she always found her mind drifting to thoughts of him. He seemed to embody everything she wanted in a man, unlike anyone else she'd ever met.
Though she hadn't seen him for three years, an image of her friends' brother Lord Hamilton came full-blown to her, evoking a wistful sigh. “When will your brother James be home from Ireland?”

“At the end of August, I believe. He'll certainly be back before Parliament goes into session. Why don't the two of us make a trip to the visitors' gallery?”

“Oh, Frances, I would love to attend. That's so thoughtful of you,” Anne said.

“She isn't being thoughtful,” Maud declared. “She wants to look over all the eligible bachelors who are members of Parliament, if I know my sister.”

“Exactly!” Frances declared. “By then Anne and I will have been presented to the queen and will be eligible to attend all the balls of the fashionable winter Season.”

Anne caught her breath, recognizing the opportunity that the ball presented. One that she had been thinking about for quite some time.
Lord James will definitely be in attendance at the Hamiltons' annual ball. I must find a way to make him partner me in a dance. I shall count the hours until I see him again.

•   •   •

Curragh Camp

Kildare, Ireland

“Good God, James, I've been counting the hours until you got back.” Prince Teddy grabbed Hamilton by the shoulders. “Something disastrous has happened. Bloody old Bruce wrote a report to my father and told him about Nellie Clifden. My parents are on their way to Ireland. What in
hellfire
am I going to do?”

“Don't panic, Your Highness. I'll think of something.” James opened a letter from his father informing him of Victoria and Albert's visit.
Better late than never, I warrant.
“I presume Nellie is safely back in Dublin?”

The look of dismay on Teddy's face told James that Miss Clifden was still within fucking distance. “The first order of business is to get rid of the evidence, so I'll take it from here.” James glanced at Carrington and tried to overlook his uselessness.

•   •   •

“Welcome to Ireland, Your Gracious Majesty.” James Hamilton bowed low before Queen Victoria. Then he shook hands with Prince Albert and bowed his head. “His Highness the Prince of Wales insisted on moving into mess quarters so you would be able to enjoy the best suite of rooms that Curragh Camp has to offer.”

The queen gave a tight-lipped smile, and Albert said, “Thank you, Lord Hamilton. Bertie should have been here to greet us. Kindly tell him to present himself.”

James lowered his voice confidentially. “The Prince of Wales was part of the field battery of the Horse Artillery who fired the welcome salute when you arrived.” James noted that Prince Albert failed to look impressed. “I'm sure His Highness will be here the moment his commander dismisses him.” He smiled disarmingly. “I'll attend him and let him know how pleased you are with the accommodation.”

James found Prince Teddy watching a horse race. He gave him the unwelcome news that his parents had arrived and were asking to see him. He told him that he had placated his father with the lie about him being part of the welcome salute.

The prince paled. “I wish I didn't have to see them! Stay with me, James. I need you for support.”

It's high time you replaced that wishbone with a backbone, milado.

James nodded to the guards standing sentry outside the suite, opened the door, and allowed the prince to precede him.

Teddy bowed to the queen. “Mother, welcome to Curragh.” He looked at his father and nodded his head respectfully. “Your visit is a pleasant surprise.”

Victoria pressed her lips together. “We doubt that, Bertie. Your father wishes to discuss a certain disturbing matter that has come to our attention. I shall withdraw until the distasteful business is resolved.”

Albert waited until the queen left the room. “Major General Bruce has reported your immoral behavior. I am shocked you would disgrace the royal family by consorting with a woman of ill repute. You will cease and desist immediately!”

The prince's face turned red. “It is a pack of lies!”

James immediately stepped forward. “Your Highness, I feel compelled to confess that the female involved was here at my invitation. The prince nobly took the blame for my indiscretion. I assure you that my lapse in judgment will not be repeated.”

The prince consort stared at James with moral outrage. “I see.” His glance did not soften as it fell upon his son. “I am sure your mother will be vastly relieved when I explain the matter.”

•   •   •

The young Prince of Wales and his attendants were scheduled to leave Ireland at the end of August. The night before they were to embark, James Hamilton lay in bed with his arms folded behind his head, contemplating his return to London.

Teddy will return to his royal apartment at Buckingham Palace, but it's past time for me to move from my family's home and set up my own establishment.

The reason he had been reluctant to do so long ago was John Claud. Since they were boys, James had taken on the protective role of guardian to his younger brother, but the words they'd exchanged the night before he left for Ireland clearly showed him that his brother was chafing at their relationship.
Now that John Claud is almost nineteen, he thinks himself a man, and rightly so.

The scene of their last meeting rose up before him, and he winced at the words his brother had thrown at him in response to what James had thought a caring question: