“And a full belly, I’ve not a doubt,” her brother said bitterly.
“So much the better,” Autumn told him. “I shall not be easily forgotten then, Charlie, and my child will profit too.”
“How have you become so hard?” the Duke of Lundy asked his sister. “What has happened to you, Autumn?”
“Oh, Charlie, I am not our great-grandmother, who could joust with a queen and make her own great fortune. I am not Mama, who is clever with her business investments. I am more like my grandmother Gordon, who while brave of heart was forced by life to accept what was offered her and not go out to get what she really wanted. I would have been happy to remain Sebastian’s wife forever. To bear him a child each year. To live the simple life of a chateau owner on the Cher. It was not, however, to be. Widowed, I was forced to become King Louis’s mistress for several weeks each year. I was a convenience, like Chambord itself. While Louis is fond of me, he has no heart, even as this English king has no heart.
“You say you know your cousin. If that is so, then why did you bring me to court? No one need tell me I am beautiful, brother. I see it in my own mirror. And you have yourself said that King Charles enjoys beautiful women. Surely you knew he would seek to seduce me. And that being the case, why are you angry at me for accepting the inevitable? I could not refuse King Louis. I cannot refuse King Charles.”
“I wasn’t aware that Barbara had withdrawn from the court,” Charlie said despairingly. “Oh, I knew she must, and soon, but I did not realize she was already gone, and the king on the prowl once more, or I should have never brought you. He seems to be a man who cannot do without a woman, I fear. I just hate that the woman is my own baby sister.”
“Who will be twenty-nine in three weeks’ time,” Autumn reminded him, now amused.
“Mama is going to be furious,” Charlie said.
“We will distract her by seeking a wife for you instead,” Autumn told her brother.
“I don’t need a wife,” he groused. “Oh, I know I tell Mama that I do, but I don’t. Besides, I have two sons for Lundy.”
“Two sons you haven’t seen in several years, who are growing up wild savages at Glenkirk,” Autumn replied. “You should really bring them down from Scotland before the winter sets in, and Sabrina too.”
A crafty look came into Charlie’s eyes. “You’re right!” he said. “You, my clever little sister, are absolutely right! We will distract Mama from your situation by giving her my trio of brats to civilize! I’ll wait a few days to see you settled here at court. Then, if you will release me, sister, I’ll ride for Scotland without further delay. When I appear again on my own doorstep at Queen’s Malvern, I shall have my brood with me. Mama will have little time to ask questions that I don’t really want to answer. That, dear sister, will eventually be your problem, not mine.”
“Agreed,” Autumn said cheerfully.
“Come and meet some of the people you should know,” Charlie said, and led her off to introduce her to George Villiers, the second Duke of Buckingham, and Gabriel Bainbridge, the Duke of Garwood.
“My parents were friends of your father,” Autumn told Buckingham. “They called your father Steenie, didn’t they?”
“I never knew my father,” George Villiers said. “He was killed when I was an infant, and my mother ripening with my brother.”
“How sad,” Autumn told him. “I am so glad I knew my father!”
“You were indeed most fortunate, madame la marquise,” the Duke of Buckingham said.
They returned to Charlie’s apartment to collect her cloak, then descended to the Great Court, where the coach waited. Autumn turned to enter her carriage when a soberly dressed gentleman came up to them. “Madame la marquise,” he said, “I am William Chiffinch, his majesty’s servant. I have been sent to fetch you to the king. If you will follow me, please?”
Autumn’s face darkened with her anger. “Sir,” she said in steely tones, “you may tell his majesty that I am not some common whore to be fetched from the streets. I make my residence at the Earl of Lynmouth’s house on the Strand. If his majesty wishes to see me, he will come there whenever it pleases him.” Then, without another word, she climbed into her coach. “Charlie, are you coming, or will you remain here at Whitehall?”
Wordless, the Duke of Lundy waved his sister off, not knowing whether to laugh or not as her vehicle moved out of the Great Court into the street beyond the Whitehall Gate.
It was Buckingham who broke the tension. “Well, damn me! If your sister don’t beat all, Charlie,” he said. “A woman who will have the king her way. I can’t wait to tell my cousin Barbara. If he goes, she’ll be absolutely furious, though even Barbara is not dense enough to believe the king will remain celibate until her return. But she’s never been as bold as your sister. Still, there is nothing she can do right now, for her big belly impedes her. Aha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” he chortled.
“You don’t think the king will be insulted?” Charlie said.
“Hell no!” Buckingham replied. “He’ll be as intrigued as can be by this woman who refused to follow Mr. Chiffinch meekly to the royal bed. Eh, Mr. Chiffinch?” the duke said with a good-natured poke at the servant’s chest.
“It is not for me to say, your grace,” William Chiffinch replied, but there was indeed a faint hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.
“Well, go and tell your master, Chiffinch,” Buckingham told him. “I’d give a gold piece to hear what the king says when you do, but I don’t suppose you’d let us go with you, Chiffinch, would you?”
“I’m afraid not, your grace,” the servant said quietly, and then he withdrew, bowing to them before he went.
“Come on,” Buckingham said, “let’s go and play some cards, gentlemen.”
As they moved off, Gabriel Bainbridge, who had been silent, said angrily to the Duke of Lundy, “How can you allow this, Charlie?”
“How can I prevent it?” was his answer. “Autumn isn’t a child, my lord. She’s a grown woman with children, and her own wealth.”
The Duke of Garwood sighed. “I wanted to get to know her,” he said, almost forlornly.
“You will have your chance,” Charlie said. “When Madame Barbara returns to court she will see my sister gone from it. Autumn is but a diversion. The king and Lady Barbara have grown up together, suffered exile together. They have far more in common than my sister does with the king. Besides, his majesty will shortly have to choose a queen. Then, my friend, there will be no time for anyone or anything else.”
“You speak so casually of your sister’s dishonor,” the Duke of Garwood said.
“There is no dishonor in being a king’s mistress,” Charlie told him, “or so the women in my family have always been assured. You recall my sister as that brave, foolish girl who shot your trooper, Gabriel. She is no longer that girl. She is a woman who has loved, borne her husband a child, suffered his death, and enjoyed the favors of King Louis, who sought her out a year after Sebastian died. Her second daughter is Louis’s child. Autumn is a grown and mature woman.”
“Your sister was correct when she said she was no common whore,” the Duke of Garwood replied, suddenly angry. “She is a courtesan of the first rank, my lord, and you no better than her pimp!”
“I shall not demand satisfaction for those remarks, my lord, because I can see you have an unrequited tendre for my sister. You are disappointed and choleric, but I will excuse you this time. I. have been in love myself.”
“I am not in love!” the Duke of Garwood protested.
Charles Frederick Stuart smiled knowingly, grinning at the duke. “Your time will come, sir,” he said, “but be advised that neither I nor my brothers will allow you to treat Autumn with contempt or disgrace her. You do understand that, sir, don’t you?”
“You need not fear, your grace, for I shall have nothing further to do with the wench at all,” Gabriel Bainbridge replied stiffly.
“It will be your loss, sir,” Charlie said, wondering what his sis
ter would think of all this; but then, he didn’t intend telling her. Autumn would have her hands full soon enough. If she really believed being King Louis’s discreet mistress each October had thoroughly prepared her to be Charles Stuart’s temporary and most public mistress, she would soon find out she was greatly mistaken.
Autumn’s thoughts as she returned to Lynmouth House were quite clear. She was through being a helpless plaything for men. If the King of England wanted to bed her, then she would make certain that she was in control of the situation at all times. And she would get more out of the relationship than a baby this time. Sebastian, why did you leave me? her heart cried out, as it had so many times since the day he died. And why is it all so damned hard ? Perhaps I should return to France, she considered, but she knew that that would not be the answer.
She hurried into the house, telling Betts as she came, “We may be having a rather important visitor this evening. I want the bath filled immediately!”
“But, madame . . .” he began.
Autumn cut him short. “This is not a matter for discussion, Betts, nor am I soliciting your advice. Do as I say immediately!” She halfran up the stairs to her apartments, where Lily and Orane were dozing as they waited for her. “Awaken!” she told them. “We will be having an important visitor shortly.”
A footman ran into the house. “Where shall we set the tub, m’lady?” he asked her.
“Before the fire in the day room,” she instructed.
“But you had a bath before you went out this evening,” Lily protested to her mistress.
“Come, help me disrobe, both of you,” Autumn said, not bothering to explain further. “Quickly! Make certain the water is good and hot,” she called to the footmen before disappearing into her bedchamber.
Off came her bodice and gown, her petticoats and her chemise. When Orane knelt to remove her stockings and slippers Autumn stopped her with a shake of her head. Orane’s eyes grew wide at the implications. Lily, wiser, took a cream-colored silk chamber robe, and wrapped it about her mistress. She touched her mistress’s ruby necklace.
“No,” Autumn said.
“Does madame wish her hair brushed tonight?” Orane inquired.
“Yes,” was all Autumn replied, and she sat down upon a small chair.
Orane pulled the pins from her mistress’s long mahogany-colored hair and began to brush it with smooth strokes.
“See to the bath, Lily,” Autumn said. “Put some sandalwood oil in the water, and get out a cake of the soap.”
“Yes, m’lady,” Lily replied, returning to the day room, where the footmen had just finished. She poured a generous dollop of oil into the great oak tub. Then she laid out the soap and towels, which she placed on a heating rack by the edge of the fire. She hurried to light several candles and then returned to the bedchamber, where she adjusted the lighting to a more subtle glow. A knock upon the outer door sent her scurrying to answer it. Opening the door, the maidservant gaped, and then gasped with her surprise. She had never seen King Charles before, but she sensed immediately who he was. She curtsied deeply even as Autumn came from the bedchamber with Orane by her side.
“Make your curtsey,” Autumn whispered to Orane. “Then be gone.”
Lily had recovered enough to take the gentleman’s hat, gloves, and cape. Then she looked nervously to her mistress.
“Put his majesty’s things on the chair, Lily, where he may easily retrieve them when he departs,” Autumn said quietly. “I will see you both in the morning. Good night.”
The two young women backed from the day room, closing the door firmly behind them.
“Are you hungry?” Autumn asked him. “I see Betts has put a tray on the sideboard, along with some wine. I am happy to say that every member of this family has a good stock of our French relations’ wine.”
“Give me some wine, madame,” he told her.
Hiding a smile, Autumn went to the sideboard and poured the king a large silver goblet of rich, fragrant red wine. Turning, she handed it to him, then poured herself some of the potent liquid.
The king drank and then, slamming the goblet down forcefully, he said, “You are the boldest damn woman I have ever met, Autumn. I was not particularly pleased when Mr. Chiffinch returned with your reply to my most generous invitation.”
“And yet,” Autumn said bravely, “here you are, Charles Stuart.”
“Yes, here I am,” he answered her.
“Have you come to scold me and then leave?” she taunted.
“No, my dear, I have come to fuck you,” he responded, half-angrily.
“Not before you have had a bath,” she told him.
“What?!”
“You men will play in mud puddles as boys, or swim naked in an icy sea, but suggest a bath and you go all to pieces,” Autumn said as she briskly removed his short jacket first and put it aside. Then her slim fingers nimbly undid his shirt, pulling it off. Next came his belt, and then Autumn pushed the king into a chair so she could yank his boots and stockings off. When this was done she ordered him up, but he pulled her into his lap, his big hand sliding quickly beneath her robe to fondle a breast. She struggled up, laughing.
“Oh, no, sire, not until you have been properly washed.” She jerked his breeches and drawers down. “Step out of them,” she ordered sternly. When he had she led him to the great oak tub. “Get in. Do you know how to bathe yourself, or shall I do it for you?”
“As tempting as the thought of you washing me like a babe is, madame, I shall do it myself to save time,” the king told her.
“Your buttocks are most shapely,” she remarked.
He laughed and slid beneath the water. “You’re a proper hussy,” he told her. He had decided to be amused by all of this. After all, had Mr. Chiffinch brought her to his bed as he did so many women, it might have proved uninteresting in the sameness. His first thought, however, when his servant had delivered her reply to his invitation, was to either ignore her from then on or drag her back by force, if necessary. Then it occurred to him that her saucy proposal was an adventure. He had had enough of adventures these eleven years past, but erotic adventures were far different than the hazardous ventures he had previously experienced. He chuckled as he scrubbed himself thoroughly. “When did you last bathe, madame?” he asked her.
“Earlier this evening,” she replied. “Come out of the tub now, Charles Stuart. I shall dry you off. It would not do to have you catch cold in my care. I don’t want to be accused of treason.” Then she threw aside her chamber robe and picked up a towel from the drying rack, where it had been warming.
Exiting the tub, the king’s dark eyes widened in appreciation. “Madame, you are, I can see, a proper minx,” he murmured. She was naked but for her red striped silk stockings, her ruby-studded shoes, and the rubies she wore about her neck and in her ears. Her stockings were held up by golden garters that fastened with small golden cupids. Her breasts were absolutely exquisite, and far surpassed the promise he had anticipated. She had a slender waist, and her belly was just faintly rounded. Her torso long, her legs short. He reached out for her, but Autumn eluded him.
“Nay, sir, not until you are properly tended to,” she told him as she began to rub him briskly. He was quickly dry, and his skin tingled. Seating him, she knelt to dry his feet, doing each toe carefully. When she had finished she put the towel aside and, slipping between his legs, took his manhood in the warm cave of her mouth and began to suckle upon it.
The king gasped, surprised, but then he closed his eyes, almost purring as she ministered to his love lance, which was growing hard and throbbing with his excitement. He thought surely she meant to drink his juices, but again she startled him by releasing him from her mouth and climbing upon his thighs to sheath him in her welcoming body. “Jesu!” he exclaimed as she rode him to completion.
Feeling his hot, boiling tribute, Autumn sat back, her arms about the king’s neck. “There,” she said with a satisfied sigh. “We have taken the edge off your lust, s
ire, and may now spend the next several hours enjoying ourselves.” She dismounted him and, taking the wash rag from where he had left it, she cleansed herself first, and then him.
The breath was finally coming back into his body. “Is that a French custom? The washing afterwards?”
“No,” she said. “I taught Louis. It is a custom of my mother’s homeland. She taught me, and my sisters. Come on, Charles Stuart, I’m cold and want to get into bed now.” She walked into the bedchamber and climbed into the bed, flipping the coverlet back in invitation. “Unless, of course, you are satisfied and wish to leave.”
“No!” he said, and then, “I believe it will take some time for you to properly satisfy me, Autumn.” He climbed into the bed next to her. “Come here, you delightfully wicked bitch. I want to play with your tempting little breasts. Such exquisite fruits, my darling. They are so perfectly round, so soft.” His dark head dipped, his mouth enclosing itself over a nipple. “Mmmmm, so delicious,” he pronounced.
Autumn lay back amid the pillows and closed her eyes, enjoying his attentions. She now had the upper hand over this lustful king who was so much like his first cousin, King Louis of France. There was, however, a difference. Louis had been yet a boy; Charles was very much a man. She had a trunkful of surprises that would keep this king enthralled, and desiring more. For now she would caress his ego so that even while she ruled him, he would think he was in total command of their passion.
Autumn emptied her mind of all thoughts now, allowing herself to receive the pleasure he was so skilled at giving his lovers. His mouth was strong and tugged upon her nipples in turn. She could feel the excitement beginning to build within her nether regions. His mouth was suddenly upon hers, his dark mustache tickling her slightly. Her lips softened beneath his, allowing his tongue to enter in, where it danced and parried with her tongue until she was hot with desire.
Intrigued Page 37
