The Mask Revealed (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 2) (3 page)

By the time her husband trotted over, fresh as a daisy, and suggested it was time they retire from the company, Beth’s feet were throbbing with agony, her face was aching from smiling so much, and her brain had come to the end of its fund of courteous platitudes hours ago. She had now gone beyond tiredness, and while her body craved rest, she knew that she was beyond sleep for now. Nevertheless, accompanied by a few select female attendants, she left the room gratefully, in spite of the dreaded ordeal to follow.

CHAPTER TWO

When the door opened on the bridal chamber, Beth could not stop herself from gasping with shock. Charlotte had gone to town on the room. The bed was huge, a four-poster hung with a heavy royal blue velvet canopy and curtains. The bedding was turned back, and the sheets liberally sprinkled with rose petals. Candles blazed on every conceivable surface, making the room almost as bright as day, and adding a considerable amount of warmth to that given out by the fire which burned in the hearth. There was a table laden with a tray of small fancies, and a decanter of wine accompanied by two crystal glasses. Somewhere in the midst of the blazing light a small lamp burned a heavily spiced fragrant oil, which, clashing with the scent of the rose petals, filled the room with an overpowering cloying smell. Beth looked at Charlotte’s eager face and summoned all her acting skills.

“Oh, it’s amazing!” she said truthfully, clapping her hands in a gesture she hoped would denote joy. “You have worked so hard, Charlotte. How can I thank you? How can I thank all of you?” She looked around at her beaming female cousins, carefully avoiding the faces of the other ladies who had accompanied them. If she caught Caroline’s or Sarah’s gaze, she would burst out laughing, she knew it. Instead she concentrated on the rapt faces of the Cunningham sisters. They really were such good people. Beth fervently wished she could truly like them; they deserved it. She felt herself unworthy, knowing how she scorned them secretly for their ignorance and vapidity, and resolved to try harder to show her appreciation of the festivities planned for tomorrow.

They now helped her to undress, chatting excitedly all the time, the married women offering pieces of useful advice.

“It will probably hurt a lot the first time,” Lady Winter said tactlessly. “But it does get a lot better after that, and can even be enjoyable at times,” she added hurriedly.

“The important thing is to find out what he likes, and then to make sure he’s satisfied in bed. If you can do that, you’ll find it easier to persuade him to give you what you want outside the bedchamber. Men are all the same, please them in bed and they’re your slaves,” Sarah advised practically.

The other women looked at her in shock. Sarah was single. A single woman should not know of such matters, and if she did, should certainly not speak of them. But of course, she was only a maid. Lady Winter sniffed disdainfully and moved forward, preparing to give Beth the benefit of her years of legitimately gained sexual experience.

 “What do you suggest I do then, Sarah?” said Beth, forestalling the older woman. She needed all the useful advice she could get, and knew Sarah must have slept with many men she found abhorrent. She cursed herself for not asking before, but she had not wanted to think about the dreaded consummation, and now it was upon her she realised that she had no idea what to expect, or what to do.

Sarah smiled brazenly at Lady Winter, who had been about to speak but who now closed her mouth and subsided huffily onto a chair.

“Well, this first night, I would suggest you let him take the lead,” the maid advised thoughtfully. “After all, he will expect you to be innocent, as you are, of course, and he will be highly suspicious if you show any imagination. But try to be responsive, pretend that you enjoy it a little. Comments on his masculine prowess, the size of his member and amazing strength tend to go down well.”

Caroline laughed merrily into the shocked silence that followed this honest comment. She eyed Sarah with interest. Not only was there more to Beth than met the eye, her maid was something different as well. She would certainly be visiting the girl’s beauty emporium as soon as it opened.

The silence lengthened as everyone tried to imagine the effeminate Sir Anthony showing any signs of masculine prowess at all.

“Well,” continued Sarah after a minute, unfazed by the waves of hostility emanating from Lady Winter and the Cunninghams, her mind bent only on helping her mistress. “You must make the best of what you’ve been given. Take your cue from him. It can be a blessing to have a man who is not overly interested in the opposite sex, as long as he can give you a few children to quell any unsavoury rumours, of course.” There was a gasp of horror from the company at the forthrightness of the speaker, and Sarah reddened, remembering suddenly her position. She tended to forget this when alone with Beth, who treated her as a friend rather than a servant.

Beth heartily wished that Sarah had been a close relative, rather than a soon-to-be ex maid who she was unlikely to see much more of. She laughed.

“Right now, I would appreciate that. I hardly slept last night.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of sleep tonight.” Caroline smiled, remembering her own wedding night. “If he isn’t too drunk by now to do anything at all, he’ll be so eager the first time, it’ll probably all be over in seconds.”

“Caroline!” Isabella protested in a shocked voice. “This is Elizabeth’s wedding night. We should be encouraging her, allaying any fears she may have regarding the imminent loss of her virginity.” The sisters looked tragic at the unromantic nature of the conversation.

Caroline was about to say that as far as she was concerned, she
was
being positive and encouraging, but Beth broke in to soothe her cousins’ feelings.

“I am sure it will be a most memorable night, Isabella. How could it fail to be, when the surroundings are so beautiful and conducive to romance?”

She brushed her hair out carefully in front of the mirror, not seeing the women’s envious looks as the shining white-gold waves tumbled down her back to her hips. Then she made her way to the bed and climbed in, pulling the sheets up to her neck, although the voluminous nightgown she wore covered her from throat to ankle.

She was just in time. Outside could be heard the sound of several masculine voices in various states of intoxication. The door burst open and Sir Anthony was propelled in, accompanied by Lord Edward and three of his cronies. At least Richard wasn’t there, Beth observed gratefully. She had expected the whole company to come upstairs, although the ones who were here made up for their lack of numbers with noise and ribaldry. The women shrank back into the corner, making way for the men.

The men squinted at the blaze of heat and light that greeted them.

“Well, here he is then! I hope you’re ready for him!” said Lord Edward. “At least you’ll be able to see what you’re getting, Anthony.”

“Indeed,” Sir Anthony replied, swaying slightly. “If I don’t set fire to the room in the process.” He took off his coat with a flourish, narrowly missing knocking over several candles.

“Well, of course, you can extinguish some of the lights before you go to bed, Sir Anthony,” Charlotte’s disappointed voice came from the corner. “I just wanted to create the right mood.”

“And you have,” the groom replied. “It is most delightful. And such an interesting scent!” He removed his waistcoat and bent down to take off his shoes, staggering slightly as he did so. His voice was a little thick. Beth’s hopes rose.

“Oh, do you like it?” Charlotte cried. “I mixed the oils myself!”

“It’s making me feel sick,” said her brother brutally.

Good,
thought Beth nastily.
Maybe you’ll leave quickly.

“It’s wonderful, Charlotte,” she said loudly from the depths of the bed. She glared at Lord Edward, willing him to go away, but he showed no signs of doing so, plopping down on the edge of the bed instead.

“As long as you get a good fire going in the bed, Anthony, that’s all that matters, eh?” he slurred, looking across at the younger man, who was standing by the mirror eyeing himself admiringly. Up to now he had not even glanced her way. Beth realised with relief that Sarah was probably right. It didn’t look as though there would even be a spark in the bed tonight, drunk or not.

Sir Anthony was now in shirt, breeches and stockings, and apparently had no intention of undressing further until the others had vacated the room.

“Come on, man, disrobe yourself. The lady wants to see what she is getting, don’t you, Elizabeth?” Lord Edward roared.

Not particularly, no,
Beth thought.

“I am sure Sir Anthony will join me in his own time,” she replied primly. He looked as though he was as attracted to her as she was to him. It seemed that the rumours about his sexual preferences were true. The baronet sat down at the dressing table and leaned forward to peer at his face in the mirror. He reached up to remove the crescent-shaped patch from his cheek.

“What say we revive an old custom?” James, a florid-faced paunchy friend of Lord Edward’s suggested, eyeing Beth lasciviously. “In my great-grandfather’s time the woman used to be displayed before all the company, to make sure that everything was intact, if you get my meaning.” He swayed over the bed, leering. “What do you say to that, sweetheart?” His podgy hand moved crab-like towards the sheet. He was very drunk, Beth realised, seeing his bloodshot eyes. Sir Anthony had stopped halfway through peeling his patch and was preternaturally still, observing the scene behind him through the mirror.

“I’ll tell you what I say to that, sir,” Beth replied icily. “Anyone who tries to revive that jolly custom will certainly find that if he is fully intact now, he will not remain so for long.”

James moved abruptly back from the bed, and Sir Anthony finished removing his patch, placing it on the table.

“You look tired,” Lord Edward said from his position by her side. “If you need a little sleep, take it now. I’m sure it will take your husband a good half hour to remove his paint. You won’t get much sleep after that, eh?” he chortled.

“The sooner you leave, the sooner we can proceed with whatever we intend to do this night,” Sir Anthony said pointedly. The ladies took the hint and moved towards the door.

Lord Edward settled himself more comfortably on the bed.

“Of course, if you should find that you cannot rouse him enough to pleasure you, my room is just down the hall. I’ll be happy to oblige,” he said, eyeing his cousin through a lustful drunken haze. God, she was a desirable little filly! His wig was slightly askew, and his breath smelt unpleasantly of cigars and brandy. He belched softly.

“How considerate of you, cousin.” Beth lips curled upwards in a sketch of a smile. “Allow him half an hour to remove his powder, and I’ll send him directly to you. I’m sure you’ll have more success than I in pleasuring him. And more enjoyment too, I don’t doubt.”

***

“Well, that seemed to have the requisite effect,” Sir Anthony observed dryly thirty seconds later, as the door closed, leaving the bride and groom alone. He was still sitting at the dressing table, and Beth observed him apprehensively. His voice betrayed no emotion, although he was trembling slightly, she noticed. In spite of his effeminate ways, he was a large man, and Beth knew she had gone too far. She had never seen him intoxicated, had no idea if alcohol made him aggressive, as it did many men.

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I had no right to say what I did.”

He stood suddenly and turned towards her, and she shrank back instinctively.

“Don’t worry, my dear Beth, I’m not angry with you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

 She looked up at him in surprise and saw that he was trembling not with rage, but in an effort to control the laughter that now spilled out. It was rich and infectious, far removed from the affected titters she had heard him utter previously, and in a moment she was laughing with him.

“I have never seen that buffoon move so fast,” he said in a strangled voice, after a time. “I knew you were a match for him, but you excelled yourself tonight, my love.” He sank down on the bed, in the spot the previous occupant had so hurriedly vacated.

“Yes, but even so, I had no right to insult you as well and I’m sorry for that.”

Sir Anthony waved his hand airily about in that familiar irritating gesture.

“Oh, my dear, I am neither blind, deaf nor stupid. I know what is said about me behind my back, and I couldn’t care less about it. But I see I shall have to prove to my wife at least that the rumours are unjustified. It will be a most pleasurable task, I hope.” He looked at her, and the tension crackled between them. He showed no sign of being drunk at all now they were alone. It had all been an act, she realised, dismayed. She huddled instinctively deeper under the bedclothes.

He reached out one gloved hand and gently stroked her cheek.

“Do not be afraid, my dear,” he said softly. “I intend it to be a pleasurable experience for both of us. I will do my utmost to make it so.” Then he stood, and the bed creaked a little.

“Now, if you don’t mind I will get rid of this nauseating oil and blow out some of the candles before we do indeed cause an inferno.”

He took the lamp and moving to the window opened the shutters and threw its contents into the garden below. The sudden draught of fresh air that blew in saved him the job of extinguishing several of the candles, and he moved silently around the room, blowing out the others, until only one remained. He took this to the dressing table and commenced removing his make-up, leaving the window open until he had finished to allow the heavy cloying scent to escape.

The fire had died down to a few embers by now and Sir Anthony had his back to her. Beth could see nothing of his face as he scrubbed at the powder and paint that adorned it. She was curious to know what he looked like, but once he had completed his ablutions, he leaned across and snuffed out the remaining candle, plunging the room into darkness. She could hear the soft rustling sounds as he removed the rest of his clothes and his wig, and then the tiny amount of starlight coming through the window was blocked out by his bulk as he closed the shutters.