Virginia Henley (21 page)

Adam Savage was angry. He shook young Bernard Lamb’s hand and told him he was delighted to meet one of Tony’s relatives. He covered the best way he could. “I think Tony was going to invite the young lady to supper, but could see you had beat him to the prize.”

Bernard laughed. “Angela and I are old friends. We would be delighted to join you some other time.”

Savage noted the youth’s polished manners and wished to God his bloody ward would exhibit a few manners, polished or otherwise. “When my house in Gravesend is finished, I shall be having a house-warming party. I’ll send you an invitation. Please come.” Savage’s eyes caressed Angela’s impudent breasts and saucy mouth.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said, winking cheekily. “I must run, the curtain’s rising.” She looked over her shoulder at
the two men and added outrageously, “among other things.” ‘

As everyone headed back to their seats, Adam spun Tony around by the shoulder. “You insufferable young snob.” Savage’s eyes and voice were icy. “Just because he’s untitled and she’s a common actress, you snubbed them.”

Tony looked him straight in the eye. “If you couldn’t see he covets my title and everything else I own, then you are blind.”

“Horseshit! I saw no such thing!”

“All you saw were tits!” Tony said crudely.

Savage grinned. “I’m a leg man, myself.”

A few days ago Tony wouldn’t have known what he meant. Now she did. Holy Mary, men had divided up the female anatomy and chosen the parts they found most delectable!

What if women did that? She stared at him, remembering how he’d looked in only a towel. Judas, she’d be hard pressed to choose between his wide shoulders or his darkly furred chest, his strong brown hands or his sensual scarred mouth. She was spoiled for choice and she hadn’t even seen all his parts yet!

“What are you staring at?” Savage asked.

“God’s gift to women,” Tony mocked, lowering her eyes lest he see the physical impact he had upon her.

The bawdy show had definitely made Savage feel randy and in the mood for a woman. He debated where he should take Tony for his first taste of tenderloin and decided he would take him to a place where there would be a bit of fun. No sense intimidating him by visiting a house that catered to sophisticated tastes, lest he take it all too seriously.

Opposite Somerset House on the Thames was a floating bawdy house called the
Folly.
On the first deck a band entertained while water nymphs took supper with the gentlemen, who were referred to as “Tritons.”

“Where are we going?” Tony asked, as they walked toward the river.

“Do you see that barge that’s all lit up?”

Tony could hear the music and laughter now they were closer. “Are we going out on the river?”

“Yes and no. The
Folly
never actually weighs anchor.”

“Ah, is it a floating card palace?” Tony asked, becoming interested.

“No, it’s a floating brothel. We’ll take supper with some delectable water nymphs on the first deck and then when you grow tired of the world the second deck has small, convenient rooms where you may take a girl to bed.”

Tony tripped on the gangplank.

“I knew you’d be eager,” Savage mocked. “Take a stroll about while I pay our blunt.”

Savage spoke with the proprietress, letting her know it was the boy’s first time. “He’s a bit shy in these matters, but I want to be absolutely certain he loses his virginity.”

“Ah, milord, I’ve just the little nymph! She’s so eager, she’ll do all the work. She does it all, front door, back door, French door! All he has to do is lie there and breathe.”

Savage took out his billfold. “I don’t think so. Do you have a shy nymph who can pass for a virgin? One with a little more class and subtlety, perhaps?”

The madam’s painted face lit up. “I have a new girl, quiet little thing. I’m amazed at how many gents ask for her.”

“Send her to our table.” He glanced up to find three females frankly assessing him. “Ladies, won’t you join us for supper?”

Tony wasn’t hungry, her appetite had fled along with her courage. Savage must have found the seafood delicious by the number of oysters the laughing nymphs fed him. Tony knew what Savage expected of Lord Lamb and decided bravado was the only thing that would carry her through the evening. She appraised the young girl sitting
next to her and was surprised to find that she looked apprehensive. She sat as quietly as if she were in church, not even listening to the sallies of the rowdy nymphs who were lavishing all their attention on Savage.

Tony reached for her cigar case. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“May I light it for you, my lord?” the girl asked sweetly.

Tony held the cheroot in her lips while the young girl lifted one of the candles from its trident bracket and held it steady. “What’s your name?” Tony asked, hoping the smoke would mask the look of rising panic in her eyes.

“Lily, my lord.”

Tony almost choked on a mouthful of smoke as she saw Savage lift his eyebrows and waggle them suggestively. She needed to get away—someplace where those piercing blue eyes of his couldn’t observe her. She got to her feet. “Come on, Lily, let’s find a place where we can be private.”

Tony could feel those damned piercing blue eyes on her back, as they climbed all the way to the second deck. Inside the small stateroom there was only a bed and a tiny commode with a mirror and a wooden chair.

Tony sat down on the chair, propped her feet on the bed, and tipped the chair back to balance it on its back legs in a pretense of nonchalance.

Lily fell to her knees before Tony and cried, “Oh, please, my lord, be gentle wi’ me!”

What the devil was the girl on about? Tony crushed out the cigar and brought the chair back onto its four legs. Lily’s begging increased. “Hush, Lily. I won’t even touch you! Are some men rough with you?” Tony asked in outrage.

Lily turned off the wailing as quickly as she had turned it on. “I was only trying to excite you, my lord. Most gents love it when I’m afraid.”

“Well, I don’t love it, and please don’t call me
my lord.
My name is Tony.”

“Tony, would it excite you if I undressed you?” Lily offered, ready to oblige.

“Good God, no!” Tony said repressively.

“Would it excite you if you undressed me?”

“Nothing you do will excite me, Lily,” she stated firmly.

“What would you like to do with me, Tony?” Lily asked blankly.

“Can’t we just talk? Look, my guardian dragged me here against my will. Damn it, he’s hellbent on making a man of me.”

A light of comprehension dawned on Lily’s face. “I know your secret,” Lily whispered.

Tony stared at her a moment in disbelief, then let out her breath in a huge sigh. “Thank God! What a relief.”

“You need a man’s arms, not a woman’s,” Lily said knowingly. “You probably lust only for that handsome devil who brought you here. Am I right?”

Tony blushed and laughed self-consciously. “He certainly does strange things to me.”

Lily licked her lips. “Like what?” she asked breathlessly, sitting on the bed and crossing her legs.

“Well, he makes my insides feel like jelly.”

“Because of his great size?” Lily asked avidly.

“Partly. He’s the biggest man I’ve ever seen, but he’s so dominant. He likes to be obeyed.”

“Does he beat you?” Lily asked wistfully.

“No, but sometimes he looks as if he’d like to. When he slashes his damned riding crop against his boots I think he wishes he had me over his knee.”

“Riding crop?” Lily repeated with a delicious shudder. “How big is his Willie?”

“Willie?” Tony asked at a loss.

Lily laughed. “I’m Irish, we call it a Willie, but English girls call it a Peter, a Roger, or a Dick.”

The last name rang a bell. Tony knew what a dick was. She blushed profusely. “I’ve never seen it,” she confided shyly.

Lily considered for a moment, then acknowledged the lad could be telling the truth, since he’d always enter through the back door. “I can tell you haven’t been together long. Are you jealous when he comes to a place like this?”

Tony knew that she was. Secretly she longed to have Adam Savage laugh and tease her, then take her to a private room. To cover her wicked thoughts she changed the subject. “What about you, Lily? Why do you do this?”

“To earn my living. My mam had six kids to feed. She took up with an Irish fighter who shagged me on the floor every time she turned her back, so when I turned thirteen, I left. Might as well get paid for it.”

Tony was appalled. She wished she hadn’t asked. Her education encompassed such a wide range of subjects these days, she realized how sheltered her life had been until she met Adam Savage.

Lily uncrossed her legs and stood up. “Look, are you sure I can’t fellate you or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Tony said doubtfully.

“Well, would you mind then if I went and served another customer?”

“Of course not, Lily. It’s been nice talking with you.”

Tony glanced about the decks of the
Folly.
It was crowded with laughing sea nymphs and their Tridents. Savage was conspicuous by his absence and she’d be damned if she’d hang about kicking her heels while he indulged his vices.

When Mr. Burke opened the front door of Curzon Street he had a bucket in his hand. She swept him up and down with a cool glance. “You’ve a damned cheek, you scurvy devil!”

As she ascended the staircase with affronted dignity, Mr. Burke grinned and shook his head; she had the role of a young lord down pat.

Whenever she found herself wide awake in the middle of the night, Tony wrote in her journal. She noticed with a little grimace that the pages were filling up and a definite pattern was forming. Each entry started out vilifying Adam Savage, cataloging his faults, listing her suspicions about his past, then spelling out her outraged sensibilities. Then philosophically came a notation whereby she rationalized or excused those faults. After that came grudging praise for either his wisdom or ability, followed by a sentence or two that clearly showed she was becoming infatuated and mooning after the man.

Tony sighed in exasperation at herself. Determined to fill a page that had nothing to do with Savage she put pen to paper.

What about her? Chances were she would never have a husband! Antonia lifted her pen as her thoughts drifted off. If she were free to choose her teacher, she knew who it would be. She began to scold herself for her wicked thoughts, then she stopped. Damnation, females weren’t supposed to indulge even in
thinking
about it. She decided to rebel, even if it was only in thought.

Tony lay back on the bed, crossed her ankles, and folded her arms behind her head. Then she conjured a picture of Adam Savage in a towel. He was easily the most rugged-looking man she had ever seen, and the darkest. His weather-beaten masculinity made her feel weak. ’Twas the fashion for men to be pale, with the soft, smooth hands of a gentleman. Their clothes ornate and colorful, their hair powdered. None of these things appealed to her.

Savage’s hands were, calloused, scarred, and rough skinned as a laborer’s, yet the thought of him touching her with those hands made her want to scream. Savage’s skin was swarthy and hirsute, tempting her to learn its texture, to feel, to lift the towel and explore … everything, everywhere.
Antonia felt warm, not just in her cheeks. Her skin began to tingle, then her bones felt as if they were melting and her insides began to ache with a sort of longing.

She wanted him to look at her as he looked at other females. She wanted him to think her attractive, special. She wanted him to kiss her … on the lips. She shivered, covered with gooseflesh, but it wasn’t because she was cold. The ache in her belly spread upward into her breasts. She cupped them and they felt full and heavy and swollen. Her nipples hardened into diamonds. She removed her hands from her body and jumped from the bed quickly to dispel the guilt that stole over her.

Adam Savage spent the early hours of the morning with his secretary. Word of his wealth had spread like wildfire even beyond the City of London. Each day’s post brought proposals for business ventures that Jeffrey Sloane screened before he took up Savage’s valuable time,. Anything with the least possibility of merit he brought to his employer’s attention.

Savage stood over a wastepaper basket with a sheaf of letters. The first scheme to hit the basket was a proposal to make saltwater fresh. The second was to extract silver from lead. The third was to transmute mercury into fine metal. Another for trading in human hair would probably prove vastly profitable, but it was distasteful to him. One of the letters concerned a new lottery scheme. Lotteries were extremely popular and the profits were obscene, but the money came from the poor who made up three quarters of the population and again it was distasteful. Savage was more interested in freight and new methods of shipping goods from one place to another. Manufactories abounded in England’s industrial towns, but methods of transporting what was produced were archaic. He scanned a proposal for importing jackasses from Spain.

He glanced up at Sloane and drawled, “Hardly necessary when there are already so many in England.”

A letter from Abraham Derby, however, who said he had discovered a method of smelting iron from coke, caught his attention, as did a proposal to build a network of canals throughout England. He told Sloane to acknowledge these proposals and set up meetings with the men involved. He especially wanted to meet a civil engineer by the name of Telford who designed tunnels, bridges, and aqueducts.

Another idea Savage knew had great potential was railroads. Stone for the town of Bath had been carried from the Combe Hill quarries by carts on rails. The day was hardly long enough for all the things Savage planned.

He intended to buy a sailing vessel to carry cargo between England and the Continent. Edenwood still needed furnishings, some of which could be purchased abroad. He must also make time for a visit to the head offices of the East India Company and today he was seeing Lord Bathurst at three with the intention of buying his seat in Parliament. Savage was willing to go as high as ten thousand for a seat at Westminster, but shrewdly toyed with the idea of offering him four. At two o’clock he expected a visit from Lady Elizabeth Foster, a looker who was so alluring, it was reported no man could withstand her.

Savage rapidly fired off acceptance or rejection of two dozen social invitations, gave Sloane a list of ladies who were to receive flowers, then finally came to the last item of business. Lord Anthony Lamb. He had put off the inevitable all morning, but he must bite the bullet and confront him. Savage cursed as he heard his manservant answer the door and let someone in. He’d have to leave by the backstairs to avoid the caller.

“Get rid of whoever that is,” he directed Sloane.

“Too late,” Tony drawled, walking into the office and straddling a wooden chair.

Savage nodded to Sloane. “Leave us.”

The moment the door was closed, Savage lashed into her. “I paid out good money last night, why didn’t you fuck her?”

Tony was stunned. “How the hell do you know I didn’t?”

“Because I paid the girl for information.”

“You bastard!” Tony spat, feeling cornered.

His ice-blue eyes froze her with a look of contempt.

“What did she say?”

“She told me you had no interest in females. She told me you only fancied men. She told me you were a bum-boy.”

“I’ve been too embarrassed to confess my ignorance. Other than kissing, I don’t really know what a man does to a woman.”

It finally dawned on Savage just how much the boy’s upbringing had insulated him against the real world. He’d been brought up by his grandmother with only a twin sister for companion. No wonder he seemed effeminate. He had never had the benefit of a father’s influence or that of any other male. He’d never had the companionship of brothers who would have boasted who could pee the farthest.
or shown him the best way to masturbate, or who had the longest cock.

“You
are
attracted to girls? I don’t necessarily mean the soiled doves on the
Folly,
I mean other females?”

“Of course I am,” Tony improvised, knowing it was what he wanted to hear and realizing Lord Lamb would have a healthy interest in the opposite sex. “Actually that little actress I met backstage at the Olympian was the prettiest little thing I’ve seen in ages. Dolly … that was her name! I’ve been trying to think of it all night.”

Adam didn’t have time right now to sit him down and explain the infinite details of sexuality. The minutiae involved in awakening desire, in arousal and foreplay. The nuances and differences between men and women, their tastes, their likes and dislikes. It would fill hours, if not days.

Savage ran his hand along the volumes in his bookcase. A lot of his books were at Edenwood, but he took out two bound volumes he had acquired in India.

One was the
Kama Sutra,
the other was the story of a concubine named Jemdanee and what went on behind the closed doors of the harem.

“Try to keep an open mind when you read these books. There are likely things in here that will shock you at first.” He put a fatherly hand on Tony’s shoulder. “If there is anything in here you want to ask me about, anything at all, don’t hesitate.” He smiled. “I’m quite willing to share any knowledge I’ve acquired about the mysteries of the opposite sex, and I’m certain Dolly wouldn’t reject the advances of a Lord of the Realm, despite your lack of experience.”

Savage walked to the door with him. “I don’t mean to chuck you out, Tony, but I am expecting someone on business.”

Tony tucked the books under her arm and walked down Half-Moon Street. Before she had taken a dozen steps, a black carriage drew up with its noble crest upon the door.
Tony felt her stomach knot as the elegant female was handed down from the coach. Then her mouth fell open. It wasn’t the lady who had visited him previously. It was another beautiful countess entirely. “Funny business,” she muttered, “bloody funny business.”

Lady Randolph’s face lit up as Tony entered the room. “Ah, you’ve been to the lending library, I see.” She patted the love seat. “Come and sit with me, darling, and we’ll both have a quiet read.”

Tony said, “Uh … is that
The Ladies’ Quarterly?”
She firmly pushed the two volumes beneath her buttocks as she sat down. “Read me the funny bits.”

“Well, let’s see. There’s a very strange new wig style called the she-dragon. It’s quite hideous. I shall talk Frances Jersey into buying one. And speaking of wigs, did you know that the ladies of Rome have created a rage for red perukes? Would you believe there are several hundred shades to choose from? The French and English, however, still have a passion for white.”

Roz turned the page. “The latest fashions in Paris are scandalous. Hoops are said to be going out of style and gowns have begun to follow the lines of the female form.”

“Hoops are a damned nuisance anyway,” Tony said. “After breeches and trousers I don’t think I could ever go back to them.”

“Hoops cover a multitude of sins. They disguise some frightfully lumpy figures.”

For a moment Antonia felt sorry for herself. Sometimes she absolutely lusted for frills and ribbons. She recalled with envy the fashion plate who had an appointment with Savage. Appointment? Ha! Assignation!

“Good God, listen to this. Here’s a recipe for ophthalmic lotion for sore eyes. Mix together white vitriol and bay salt. When the detonation is over, pour on a pint of rosewater. I presume they mean if you are not blinded by the detonation! Mix in refined sugar and apply.”

“Doesn’t sound too refined to me!” Tony grimaced.

“Ah, darling, when I was a girl, animal excrement figured prominently in most medicine. Cat dung was a particular favorite for removing a low hairline.”

“Daubing cat caca on one’s face sounds hazardous to me.”

“Not nearly so dangerous as painting your face with white lead. Lady Coventry died from it.”

Tony stood up, quickly tucked her books under her arm, and started for the door.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh … er … Eastern philosophy.”

“Good for you, darling. It’s time you broadened your mind.”

In her chamber Tony threw off her coat, neckcloth, and boots and, stretching out on the bed, opened the story of Princess Jemdanee. She quickly became absorbed in the fascinating, exotic word-pictures it painted.