“From the present company, yes. Would you ask young Maud to bring me the letters from Queen Victoria and Prince Edward, darling?”
Lu, with admiring eyes, watched her daughter cross the salon. James, our daughter Louisa Jane is undoubtedly the beauty of the family. ’Tis little wonder she caught the attention of a duke. You promised me more girls than boys, and somehow managed to keep your pledge.
Maud, and her cousin whose name had escaped Lu, brought her the royal letters of congratulations. “Would you like me to help you upstairs, Your Grace?”
“Under no circumstances. I shall ascend the grand staircase alone. I certainly don’t need the aid of halflings like you two.” Then she took pity on her great-granddaughters.
“You were wondering earlier how many lovers I’d had. Let’s see . . . there was a baron, a viscount, an earl, a marquis, oh, and a duke. I mustn’t forget the Irish Duke.” Lady Lu smiled her secret smile. They aren’t to know they are all the same man.
Her descendants watched in reverence as Dowager Duchess Louisa ascended the grand staircase, wafting her crimson ostrich feather fan.
When she reached the top, she turned and smiled. I’m ready for my bed. She was eager to fall asleep, so that James could visit her in her dreams and whisper in her ear, “I love you, Lu.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Louisa Jane, Duchess of Abercorn, lived to be ninety-three years old.
She was invested as Lady of the Royal Order of Victoria and Albert.
James Hamilton, Duke of Abercorn, was appointed lord lieutenant of County Donegal in 1844, and two years later he was appointed to the Queen Victoria’s Privy Counsel and became Prince Albert’s groom of the stole. In 1866 he served as the lord lieutenant of Ireland and received his dukedom.
James and Louisa had thirteen living children—seven daughters and six sons.
His brother, Lord Claud Hamilton, served as Member of Parliament for County Tyrone.
Lord John Russell became prime minister of England in 1846.
Lady Georgina Russell, Louisa’s older sister, married Sir Charles Romilly when she was thirty-two years old. He became principal secretary to the lord chancellor of Britain.
Louisa’s brother, Edward Russell, achieved the rank of admiral in 1867.
Louisa’s brother, Charles Russell, achieved the rank of lieutenant colonel.
Louisa’s brother, Alexander Russell, became a doctor.
Louisa’s youngest sister, Rachel, became a novelist of romantic fiction.
James Hamilton’s mother, Harriet, Lady Aberdeen, died less than a year after her son’s marriage.
Louisa Jane, Duchess of Abercorn, lived to see Queen Victoria’s son, Prince Edward, ascend the throne. Thus a total of five monarchs reigned in her lifetime.
*Lady Diana Spencer and her son and heir to the throne, Prince William, are among Louisa’s descendants.
Virginia Henley is a New York Times bestselling author and the recipient of numerous awards, including the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Award. Her novels have been translated into fourteen languages. A grandmother of three, she lives in St. Petersburg, Florida, with her husband.
The social scene in the month of November had been extremely active, but once December arrived it turned into a veritable whirl-wind of invitations to parties and balls.
Georgina did her best to be on hand when the post arrived so she could sort through the invitations before her mother got to see them. That way she could discard the ones she suspected would be dead boring.
Today, however, she opened one that intrigued her. It was addressed solely to Lady Georgina Gordon, and was an invitation to attend an Evening of Fashion. At the bottom in small print it said: Masks Optional. She did not know who had invited her, but strangely the address was fairly close by on Pall Mall.
She tucked the pink card into her reticule, and later that morning took a stroll past the tall stone house. She had no idea who resided there, but her curiosity was piqued. On the spot, she decided that she would attend.
The Duchess of Gordon received an invitation to a musical evening being given by Lady Lavinia Spencer for the same evening, which she accepted on behalf of herself and her youngest daughter.
At the last minute, Georgina complained of a headache and begged off.
“Since Lavinia and her sister-in-law, the Duchess of Devonshire, are not on speaking terms, the Duke of Bedford isn’t likely to attend. I don’t suppose it will hurt if you miss the party. Perhaps you should have an early night and get some beauty sleep.”
After her mother left, Georgina went up to her bedchamber, opened her wardrobe, and with a critical eye, tried to decide what to wear to an Evening of Fashion.
“I wish Louisa were still at home. She’d join me in a heartbeat. We had such jolly times together.” Georgina hadn’t seen her sister often since her wedding, as she and her young husband lived at Brome Hall in Suffolk. Louisa had attended Charlotte’s ball, but she had focused her attention on Charles the entire evening, much to Georgina’s disgust.
“I suppose I ought to take Helen with me, but she would blab to Mother that I’d accepted an invitation and gone out after complaining of a headache.”
Georgina smiled her secret smile. Masks Optional.
She donned her most sophisticated evening gown, which was the one in the vivid shade of peacock. Then, to hide her identity, she put on a wig as well as the black sequined mask that belonged to a cat costume she’d worn to a children’s party years ago.
Wearing her velvet cloak, Georgina waited at the top of the stairs until the foyer was empty of servants; then she quickly descended and hurried through the front door. Feeling free as a bird, she felt like singing as she made her way along Pall Mall.
She crushed her apprehension about the unknown by dashing up the steps, and making liberal use of the door knocker. The majordomo who appeared was wearing gold and purple livery, as if he presided over a royal residence. Georgina presented her pink invitation, and in return she received a formal bow.
“This way, my lady.”
She followed the footman up a spiral gilt staircase to a ballroom that was lit with crystal chandeliers. The walls were mirrored from floor to ceiling, giving it an aura of palatial opulence. The room was half full of people, with more men than women, and she noted that most of the ladies wore masks. She was surprised to see that the servants, who were carrying glasses of champagne on silver trays, were not footmen, but what could more aptly be described as footwomen.
The orchestra was playing a baroque piece by Handel, and Georgina saw that no one was dancing. She recognized three of the gentlemen immediately. Francis Russell was laughing with Prince Frederick and Prince Edward. She remembered that she was wearing a mask and would be incognito until she spoke with them and they recognized her voice. What fun!
The hostess came forward to greet her. Georgina knew she had never seen the woman before in her life. “My dear, welcome to an Evening of Fashion. The show will get under way shortly. There is something to tempt and titillate every taste. I urge you to be bold and bid on whatever strikes your fancy.”
She’s urging me to bid . . . That must mean the fashions will be for sale. How delightful. Georgina watched the hostess engage an older woman in conversation, and she recognized the female immediately. The gestures of Lizzie Melbourne were unmistakable. Georgina did not know the man with her, though she knew it was not Lord Melbourne.
Rather than stand alone, she decided to join a trio of masked ladies who were whispering and laughing behind their fans. They fell quiet as their hostess went to the center of the ballroom and held up her hands. “I thank you all for coming tonight. Don’t forget that Christmas is coming and presents will be expected. I urge the gentlemen to be generous and loosen their purse strings. The fashions you will see tonight are unique. They have been imported from Paris at great expense to the establishment.”
Everyone laughed.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present
the Demoiselles de Maison Rouge!”
The applause was deafening, but as the first female high-stepped across the floor, the clapping turned to whistles of appreciation.
Georgina stared in disbelief. The girl was clad in a flowing red gown that was completely transparent. As she walked, the creamy flesh of her breasts and thighs was clearly visible. The tendrils on her mons showed dark red through the sheer silk.
Before Georgina could regain her composure, another girl undulated across the ballroom floor. This one was wearing a frilly white corset, a pair of lace stockings, and sequined garters. The space between her hips and thighs was completely nude. As she crossed the room, her bare buttocks bounced. She carried a red rose and tossed it toward the whistling men.
When Francis Russell caught it and immediately bid, “Twenty guineas,” Georgina was shocked. The bidding was fast and furious, and it began to dawn on her that the men were buying more than the fashions.
A girl garbed in a black busk decorated with pink bows touched her breasts with the tiny fan she carried. When she drew it suggestively across her mons, two of the women present began to bid, and the laughter turned raucous.
Georgina’s shock turned to anger. Who the devil sent me the invitation? She gazed across at Prince Frederick, who was bidding an obscene amount of money for a statuesque blonde wearing silver tassels. Charlotte’s husband, Charles, once dueled with Frederick. Could this be his way of getting even with our family? She soon dismissed the suspicion. It had happened years ago, and the prince didn’t seem the type to carry a grudge.
She wondered if the hostess was amusing herself by inviting a debutante who lived on the same street as her establishment. What would she gain by offering such an insult to a Gordon daughter?
Georgina’s glance traveled slowly around the ballroom, and when it came to rest on the Duke of Bedford, she knew exactly who had sent her the outrageous invitation. She was not amused.
The more she thought about it, the more furious she became. She was angry with herself as well as Francis Russell. I should not have come. I must get out of here.
She glanced toward the door and was stunned to see her sister Susan’s husband walk in. The Duke of Manchester was not alone. The woman on his arm was the one she had seen in his carriage that day outside the House of Lords.
Outraged, she hurried across the room until she reached her brother-in-law. She removed the woman’s hand from his arm. “William, you must escort me home immediately.”
“Christ Almighty, Georgina! What the hell are you doing in a brothel?” he demanded.
“I am here by accident. Obviously, you are here by intent. Nevertheless, I need your protection.”
“Of course, my dear.” He offered her his arm.
She glanced back across the room, her wicked juices bubbling. “Just one moment. I will be back directly.”
With head high she marched across the ballroom until she stood before the Duke of Bedford and Prince Edward. She raised her hand and slapped Francis Russell’s face. “Pig!”
She knew he recognized her green eyes glittering through her mask. The prince, who did not recognize her, took immediate offense for the assault on his friend and grabbed her arm. She shook him off and slapped his face also. “Pig’s friend!”
The crowd about them parted like the Red Sea as Georgina swept across the floor, took the Duke of Manchester’s arm, and departed.
As they walked up Pall Mall, Georgina said, “I warrant discretion is the better part of valor. If you won’t divulge where I was tonight, I won’t reveal where you were, William.”
The Duke of Manchester saw her to her door and kissed her hand.
The Duke of Bedford felt both elation and desolation. The little vixen came! The moment Georgina slapped his face, it ignited a raging lust that ran through his veins like wildfire and spread to his loins with the inevitable result. But something else had happened when he looked into her glittering green eyes. His heart had skipped a beat as he realized the lady was utterly desirable. He experienced a twinge of despair that she might refuse to speak to him again.
“Who the devil was that bold bitch?” Prince Edward demanded, rubbing his cheek.
“Don’t you know?” Francis asked, surprised.
“She just left with Manchester. Is she one of his whores?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea who she was,” Francis lied as an urge to protect Lady Georgina suddenly came over him. “She obviously has a grudge against you, though,” he added with glee.
“She slapped you first.”
“That’s because I’m your friend. What female have you offended recently?”
“More than I can count on one hand,” the prince admitted with braggadocio.
Francis Russell perused the females parading in dishabille and suddenly lost his appetite for the strumpet in the frilly white corset. Now, if Georgina were wearing those white lace stockings and sequined garters, it would be another matter entirely.
“I fancy the one you bid on, Francis,” Edward remarked glumly.
“Then be my guest. I’m off to Brooks’s.”
It was four in the morning when Bedford returned home to Russell Square. At the club he’d lost money because his mind was not on the game but elsewhere. Thoughts of Georgina Gordon persistently intruded, playing merry hell with his concentration. Finally, he gave up, tipped the porter who summoned his carriage, and allowed his mind to fully focus on the object of his desire.
As he disrobed for bed, he played a game of “what if.” John had been nagging him to consider taking a wife, and for the first time in his life, he thought about it seriously.
Georgina would be an exciting woman to bed. She is a combination of innocence and recklessness. It would be fun to teach her to be wild and wanton. His hand went to his groin. Christ, my cock is so hard, I could crack walnuts with it!
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