Virginia Henley - Unmasked

  A lump rose in her throat that almost choked her. If I did that, they would all know that Greysteel has broken my heart.

  Her pride took precedence. Defiance and audacity came to her rescue. She would show Montgomery and the rest of them just how indifferent she was to mar­riage. Her cavalier attitude would demonstrate that faithfulness and wedding vows meant less than noth­ing to her.

  She lifted her skirts and wiped her nose on her pet­ticoat. "How fortunate that I came to Roehampton today. What a pathetic creature I would be if I'd been kept in ignorance."

  By the time she returned to the house, her husband had joined the other men and they were eating break­fast. "Oh, please don't get up, gentlemen. Good man­ners go by the board in the country." She avoided looking at Montgomery, but could feel his eyes on her.

  "I'm having a second breakfast, since I'm eating for two," Barbara declared.

  "Won't you join us, my dear?" Charles invited.

  She shook her head. "But don't let me stop you from indulging your appetites." Everyone but Barbara understood Velvet's exquisite sarcasm.

  She went into the kitchen and found Mrs. Clegg piling slices of gammon ham on a platter. "Good morning, Bertha."

  Oh, my lady, I never thought I'd be cooking for His Majesty the King. Imagine the shock I had last night."

  Velvet poured herself wine and put some water in it. "Imagine the shock I had this morning!" She refilled her glass.

  "I'll put everything back to rights as soon as every­one has left," Mrs. Clegg promised.

  If only you could. Velvet drained the second glass of wine. "I want you to burn the sheets on my bed." Burn the bed! Burn bloody Roehampton!

  With a careless smile on her lips, Velvet conjured a false air of gaiety that got her through the day. She laughed, jested and made audacious remarks that kept everyone entertained, save Montgomery. She made wagers on the races that became more reckless with each passing hour, and ironically, her wildest bets won her the most money.

  The crowds of spectators on the Downs made way for the royal party. Not only did they gaze in awe at the king, but they also stared agog at the two beautiful females, wearing resplendent wide-brimmed hats, who accompanied him.

  Velvet tucked her arm into Lauderdale's and ca­joled, "Come on, Johnnie, show them you're not a tightfisted Scot and wager some of your gold. I'll pick you a winner!"

  Barbara was in her glory. On top of the excessive amount of attention from the crowds, she also had Charles's adoration. Nevertheless, she was loath to lose money. "Lady M., you have the Devil's own luck."

  Velvet laughed. "The M stands for moneybags, I as­sume?"

  "The lady knows a thing or two about horses," Charles said.

  "And about horses' arses," Velvet murmured to Lau­derdale.

  "Speakin' of Buckingham, where is the laddie?"

  "He's over yonder, talking to some jockeys. He's ei­ther seeking inside information or an assignation. You decide!"

  Johnnie clapped Greysteel on the back. "Yer lass is priceless—I'm havin' such a guid time I may not give her back."

  "I may not take her back," Montgomery threatened.

  Velvet laughed and tucked back a wayward curl that escaped her hat. "You may not get the chance."

  The Epsom races did not end until the last after­noon light had faded from the sky. The ladies were helped back into their carriage, and the day was de­clared a success.

  Barbara kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the opposite seat. "Lud, I'm exhausted. You may count your winnings, but I intend to sleep on the ride back to Whitehall. I warrant His Majesty won't give me any rest tonight."

  Velvet sank back against the squabs. She removed her smile and closed her eyes.

  Late that night, alone in his chamber at Whitehall, Greysteel Montgomery mulled over the events of the weekend. He had averted disaster from Charles, at great cost to himself. He had a wry sense of humor and clearly saw the strong element of comic farce that had unfolded, but there was nothing amusing about the look he'd seen on Velvet's face when she had opened their bedroom door.

  He was convinced that he had done the right thing, the only thing under the circumstances, and knew if he had it to do over, he'd make the same decision to shield the king from Barbara's vengeful wrath. He was Charles's friend; he had no choice.

  Velvet should trust me! Her lack of trust in him was what had caused all the trouble between them from the beginning. Greysteel's resolve wavered. Velvet had walked into their room and found him with another woman. What other possible conclusion could she have come to under the circumstances? He was tempted to go to her and explain what had really happened.

  She left me on the eve of our wedding and it took the king's intervention to make her change her mind. Deep down inside of him that still rankled.

  She has no faith in me and never has had. Not only did that anger him; it also mauled his pride that his wife was always ready to believe the worst about him. He stubbornly refused to admit that he had given her just cause.

  Once more his resolve wavered. With all his heart he wanted a loving relationship with Velvet. He knew that his military training made him view things in stark black and white, but perhaps where Velvet was concerned he might have to be more reasonable and accept some grey areas if there was ever to be peace between them.

  If Velvet loved me, she would trust me. He knew he had put his finger on the heart of the matter. Velvet did not love him. It filled him with hopelessness and made him feel bereft.

  Because she was his wife, he had been confident that he could teach her to love him. But now he feared that love wasn't something that could be taught. It had nothing to do with the mind, or the body for that mat­ter. Love sprang from the heart, the soul and the spirit. It needed room to blossom and flourish. He had been far too possessive of her. Love couldn't be forced. It must come from her, a gift given freely. Montgomery vowed to be patient.

  Velvet was sure she had never felt this lonely before. Prior to the Epsom races, she had hoped that Greysteel would get over his suspicious jealousy and move back into their apartment, but the infidelity she had wit­nessed at Roehampton had torn their marriage asun­der. She felt betrayed and angry, but underneath, she also felt unloved and insecure. With a wounded heart she decided that the separation would be permanent, but each day they were apart, she became more fragile and vulnerable.

  In August, when Christian visited, Velvet did not mention her marital problems, but let the dowager do the talking.

  "My grandson is about to become engaged. His par­ents are extremely gratified at the great match."

  "Who is the lady?" Velvet asked with apprehension.

  "Mary Butler, the daughter of the Duke of Or­monde. She is a great heiress. He owns Kilkenny Cas­tle and vast landholdtngs in Ireland, as well as the valuable property here in England that the king be­stowed upon him for his years of loyal service."

  "Mary is barely fifteen!" Velvet protested with dis­may.

  "What has that to do with anything? I was wed at twelve. Ormonde must be over the moon. My grand­son is heir to the wealthiest dukedom in the kingdom."

  "But riches don't bring love and happiness!"

  "Marriage seldom brings love and happiness, dar­ling, but it's far easier to tolerate if you are well com­pensated. I have decided to let my son have his inheritance of all the Devonshire estates—Chatsworth, Latimers, Leicester Abbey, Ampthill and Hardwick. He'll pass a couple of them along to young Lord Cav and his bride. So you see, there is no need to feel sorry for Lady Mary Butler."

  "No, of course not," Velvet said faintly. She was loath to vilify Will Cavendish to his grandmother. "What will you do?"

  "I shall retain Bishopsgate and enjoy my old age without having the responsibility of all those properties. Devonshire, of course, has his own stewards so Mr. Burke will no longer be in charge of overseeing them."

  "What will Mr. Burke do?"

  "Your husband has been after Mr. Burke since he bought
Roehampton. Then when he inherited Bolsover, he asked him again. Out of loyalty, Mr. Burke stayed with me, but now he's going to be Montgomery's head steward. Didn't Greysteel tell you, darling?"

  "He... he seldom discusses business affairs with me."

  "That's not wise, darling. When men control the wealth, women have to go begging whenever they need money. You should tell him you want a say in things. Surely you have him wrapped around your lit­tle finger by now?"

  "Oh, yes. I lead him around by the nose."

  "Better to lead him by the prick, darling. Have you learned nothing from your friend Barbara?" She stood up. "Well, I'm off to my sitting with Lely. I wish I'd had my portrait painted when I was your age. Now I'm a wrinkled old prune."

  "Barbara is having her portrait done by Lely. He's all the rage with the Court ladies. Perhaps I should have mine done."

  "It's an absolute must, darling, before your figure is ruined by babies. It would be a lovely surprise for your husband. Why don't you come with me now and make an appointment?"

  A short time later, they alighted from the carriage in Pall Mall, where Lely had his studio. Velvet's hopes were dashed when she learned there was a long wait­ing list for the artist's services and he was booked up for a full year. An artist named Beale was recommended. Beale was a friend of Lely's who also had a studio in Pall Mall.

  "Velvet, while I'm having my sitting, why don't you go along and take a look at Beale's work? He's sure to have a portrait gallery to display his paintings."

  Lely's assistant took Lady Montgomery to a studio that was close by, and introduced her to Charles Beale, who led her into a room where three full-length por­traits were displayed on easels.

  Velvet was extremely impressed by the colors and exquisite detail.. "You are a magnificent artist, Mr. Beale. This portrait of George Savile is so lifelike,... I've seen Lord Halifax at Court."

  "Thank you, but I am not the artist, my lady. My wife, Mary Beale, is the paintress. I just do the ac­counts."

  "Why, I think that's absolutely marvelous! Her vs work is every bit as good as Lely's. Do you think she would be able to paint my portrait, Mr. Beale?"

  "It would be an honor, Lady Montgomery. It's not easy for a female artist to become established. If you would sit for Mary, perhaps other ladies of the Court would follow suit. Would you like to come through and meet her?"

  Velvet followed him and he introduced her to a young woman holding a baby. "Dear heart, this is Lady Montgomery from, Whitehall, who would like you to paint her portrait." He took the baby from her. “I'll leave you to have a chat."

  "You'll have to forgive my husband. He's so proud of me and tries to extol me as a great artist."

  "But you are a great artist. I'm amazed that he al­lows you to do this without feeling threatened by your talent. Most men like to be in control."

  "I couldn't do it without my husband's help. He does all the accounts, prepares my canvases, some­times even mixes my paint and doesn't mind looking after the baby."

  "He's a man in a million, Mary. Tell me how it all began."

  Mary told her she had been born in the village of Barrow in Suffolk and that her father was a clergyman who dabbled in oils. She'd painted as long as she could remember. Then Kathryn, Lady Barrow, had be­come her patroness and paid for her lessons. The vil­lage was close to Newmarket, and she painted portraits of people who came to the races. She met the great artist Lely, who was commissioned by the nobles in the area, and he encouraged her to come to London and open a studio. After she married Charles Beale, her husband pushed her to take the chance.

  "I'm doing a self-portrait. Would you like to see it?" Mary uncovered a canvas that stood on an easel.

  Velvet was stunned. It was a painting of Mary and her baby and both were nude. "Oh, it takes my breath away!"

  "I should have done the self-portrait before I had a child," Mary said, laughing. "My figure has thickened."

  "Oh, no, you look absolutely beautiful." I want to be painted naked. But it would be too shocking—I couldn't do it. Don't be such a bloody coward! Suddenly, Velvet felt reckless. She knew an overwhelming need to be auda­cious and defiant.

  "Mary, would you be willing to paint a nude por­trait of me?"

  "Of course, my lady. Do you want me to come to Whitehall?"

  "Oh, no, I'll have my sittings here at your studio."

  "Very good. Let's work out a schedule."

  When Velvet went outside, she leaned against the wall, convulsed with laughter. She lifted her chin and said aloud, "Top this one, Barbara Palmer!"

  Chapter 21

  Velvet's facade of gaiety as she moved about the Court did nothing for her reputation. Now that gossip was rife that the Montgomerys kept separate chambers, her behavior had become devil-may-care and her laughter had become brittle.

  At the archery butts, she challenged Bess Lauder­dale and Anna Marie Shrewsbury to a contest. "Five guineas says I can hit a bull's-eye before either of you." After many wild arrows and numerous lost wagers, Velvet was ready to move on to another diversion. The three women strolled past the cockpit and slowed as they arrived at the tennis court.

  Velvet spied Mary Butler watching her father, Or­monde, play tennis. She desperately wanted to warn the young heiress about Will Cavendish. "Hello, Lady Mary. I hope you've been well."

  Lady Mary raised her chin defiantly. "I've been very well, thank you. I am engaged to be married to Lord Cavendish."

  "Mary, you are so young. I urge you to take your time. Don't rush into marriage."

  "You are just jealous! I know all about your affair with Cav, but I assure you it is over. He has pledged his love to me and I trust him with all my heart." She turned away from the women.

  Velvet gasped. Anna Marie and Bess exchanged smug glances. "He's filled her head full of lies because I spurned his advances," Velvet assured them.

  "There isn't a man breathing can be trusted," Bess declared.

  Velvet had the decency to flush. Bess's husband, Johnnie, had given her his undivided attention at the Epsom races.

  That night, Velvet had a vivid dream. Lady Mary was in it, steadfastly declaring her devotion to Will Cavendish. I trust him with all my heart. Bess Lau­derdale scorned, What a fool! There isn't a man breathing can be trusted. Tell her what Montgomery did to you, Vel­vet!

  She was back at Roehampton, floating in the lake. Greysteel held her hands and took her deeper and deeper into the water. Trust me, Velvet. Trust me to keep you safe. The scene changed and she stood outside their bedchamber. She turned the knob and the door swung silently open. She stared at the tableau before her in disbelief. Her husband was standing silently beside their bed, his intense grey eyes staring directly into hers. Trust me, Velvet! If you loved me, you would trust me!

  Velvet awoke and stared at the empty place beside her in the bed. I did trust you and you betrayed me! She curled over into a ball and began to cry. She turned her face into the pillow so that Emma would not hear her from the other room.

  * * *

  The next evening, Velvet joined Barbara in the gaming room. "I'm sick to death of this place. We do the same thing every evening with the same people. I'm ready to scream."

  "You're right. We need a diversion. Buckingham is attending a private party tonight at Suffolk House. Why don't we go?"

  "Won't His Majesty miss you?"

  "I sincerely hope so. I make myself available far too often, and what thanks do I get? Today, the king signed a contract that will make Catherine of Braganza his queen. He dragged his heels until Portugal offered England the cities of Tangier and Bombay and sud­denly, miraculously the price is right!"

  Velvet remembered how Charles had told her he could not afford the luxury of love when he married.

  “Yet he can't sign a warrant to make me a count­ess!" Barbara was working herself into a fury. "Come on, let's go."

  Suffolk House was next door to Whitehall, so it didn't take them long to get there. After half an hour, Barbara cornere
d her cousin. "George, this is without doubt the dullest affair I've ever attended. Why the devil did you come?"

  "I thought it good manners to come and congratulate the Countess of Suffolk. The king has asked her to be a Lady of the Queen's Bedchamber."

  Barbara's face seemed to freeze for a moment. “What a coincidence! I too am to be a Lady of the Bed­chamber." She opened her fan. "Lud, it's close in here. Lady Montgomery and I fancy going to that new gaming hell in Tothill Street."

  He bowed to Velvet. "I am always ready and will­ing to corrupt a lady, providing she doesn't fear her lord's wrath."

  Velvet laughed recklessly. "I'm trembling with ter­ror!"

  The next day, Velvet bought herself a small carriage. She was sick and tired of relying on others for trans­portation and it also gave her a sense of freedom. She could now travel wherever she wished without ob­taining her husband's approval.

  Velvet went to Mary Beale's studio in Pall Mall for her first sitting. She had to overcome her innate mod­esty in the small dressing room where she removed her clothes and put on a loose robe, but when she emerged, Mary assured her of complete privacy and put her at ease. "My lady, you have the loveliest skin I've ever seen. It is like flawless alabaster."

  "Thank you; with my hair color I'm lucky not to be freckled."

  They discussed various poses and Velvet chose to be painted as Venus, reclining upon a couch with a graceful scallop shell at her feet, and her red gold curls cascading over one delicate shoulder.

  Later that week, Barbara Palmer threw a party at her King Street residence, but did not invite His Majesty.

  "I hear you lost a small fortune last night in Tothill Street." Anna Marie Shrewsbury was piqued. "Next time you go carousing until all hours, I expect to be in­vited."

  Bess Lauderdale overheard the conversation. "Why don't we ladies of the Court form a Cabal, as the king has done? We could all be Barbara's advisers."

  Velvet laughed. "I doubt I could advise, but I'd be willing to aid and abet."