She read the note once more and flung it into the fire, watching with glittering eyes as the flames de­voured it. Velvet tasted fear. How wickedly impulsive she had been to have her portrait painted as a naked Venus. Now her sins would catch up with her, for she had no doubt that Cavendish would do as he threat­ened and cause a shocking scandal.

  As Velvet sat gazing hopelessly into the fire, she re­membered the lessons that had been drilled into her as a child. Never show fear; it is a contemptible sign of weak­ness. Timidity, anxiety, alarm and panic are other names for wmardicel Pride must always take precedence over fright.

  Emma opened the door and hurried in. "Whatever happened, my love? Lady Suffolk's maid told me that you fainted in the Presence Chamber."

  "Don't be alarmed, Emma. I'm feeling much better now." On the inside she was riddled with fear, but the face she presented to her woman was calm and col­lected. She stood and went into the dressing room.

  "What are you doing? You should rest, my dear child."

  "I am going to wash my face and brush my hair. Then I am going back downstairs."

  "If you are hungry, I can fetch you a tray."

  "Thank you, no, Emma. I am hungry—ravenous in fact." I am going to make a meal out of Lord Bloody Cav and lick my lips over the bastard! Velvet selected an ostrich feather fan from the wardrobe and swept from the room.

  Downstairs, she stalked through the chambers like a predator hunting its prey. She finally spotted him in the ballroom, dancing attendance on Mary Butler.

  Velvet approached him directly, without hesitation. She knew that at all costs she must present a bold fa­cade.

  "Your attempt at blackmail is pathetic. You will get Roehampton over my dead body!" She wafted her fan with the assurance of a royal empress. "As for my naked portrait, you may display it in the Presence Chamber for all to admire." Her smile was a bold chal­lenge. "Do your worst, my lord."

  Velvet didn't sleep well that night. She wished she knew some way to get her portrait from Lord Cav's clutches, and worried hour after hour of what the consequences of her bravado would be. She fell asleep just before dawn and had a nightmare.

  When she awoke, the sun was high and Emma was tiptoeing about so that she wouldn't disturb her. Velvet threw back the covers and set her feet to the floor. The moment she sat up, she vomited. "Oh, dear, I had no warning."

  “That is how morning sickness takes you, my love."

  Velvet's eyes went wide. "Do you really think I could be having a baby, Emma?"

  "Of course you are. You fainted last night, and now your morning sickness confirms it."

  Velvet counted on her fingers the days since the last time she had bled. "Emma, I think you are right! Oh, this is marvelous ... a baby of my very own to love and cherish. I cannot believe my good fortune!" Her joy swept away her worry about Will Cavendish and put the paltry matter of her naked portrait into perspective.

  Emma began to clean up the mess. "No more jumping out of bed like a cricket. You must lie quietly for a few minutes after you open your eyes in the morning."

  "I'll clean it up, Emma. You shouldn't have to do it."

  “What nonsense. You cleaned up after me when I was seasick coming from France. Now I can return the favor."

  Thank you. Oh, I'm so happy, Emma.... My heart is singing!"

  "You need to nibble on dry toast and sip some ginger wine. I shall go to the kitchen and get some, if you'll be all right?"

  “I'm perfectly all right. In fact, I'm euphoric!"

  When Emma departed, Velvet went to the mirror and put her hand on her belly. "Flat as a fluke," she muttered, but when she looked at her face, it was wreathed in smiles, and joy shone from her eyes. She immediately thought of Greysteel and wondered what his reaction would be.

  "He'll be proud as a peacock." Velvet was thankful that she had married Greysteel Montgomery. He would be a perfect father. She thought fleetingly of the coolness that had developed between them before he departed, but quickly dismissed it. Her momentous news would heal their silly rift and draw them closer than they had ever been.

  The following day, she again experienced morning nausea. This time, however, by moving slowly and sipping watered ginger wine, she found it soon passed off.

  Velvet decided to visit her dear friend Christian at Bishopsgate and share her wonderful news. She de­cided too that she would mention the despicable ac­tions of the dowager's grandson. Perhaps Christian could help get her portrait back.

  As her driver, Ned, was harnessing her carriage horses, one of the king's Royal Guards rode into the stables.

  "Fenton, are you back from Dover?" Velvet asked hopefully.

  "Aye, Lady Montgomery. The captain sent me to deliver a message to His Majesty."

  "You are alone, then? My husband isn't with you?" Velvet could not hide her disappointment.

  "No, ma'am. The good news is that Princess Mary and her entourage have landed safely in Dover." Fen­ton bent closer so he wouldn't be overheard. "Captain Montgomery will do his best to herd the gaggle of ladies as quickly as he can."

  Velvet laughed. "I can see the relief on your face that you were not chosen to ride herd. It will take four or five days."

  "Yes, ma'am—at least, ma'am."

  “Mydearest child, that is the most wonderful news I’ve heard since I learned Montgomery carried you off and married you." Christian rang for tea. "When your husband came to collect Mr. Burke last month, he never mentioned a word."

  "Greysteel doesn't know! It happened when we were at Audley End, so I'm only about two months. I can't wait to tell him. You knew that he went to Dover to escort Princess Mary to London? Her ship has fi­nally arrived, so he will be back in a few days."

  "Yes, the queen is looking forward to Mary's visit. You are absolutely blooming, darling. Has anyone at Whitehall guessed your secret?"

  "I believe the entire Court knew before I did. I tainted one night and everyone immediately assumed I was enceinte."

  "What a dramatic way to announce you were carrying Eglinton's heir. Let's hope it knocked Castlemaine from the center of attention for once."

  Velvet laughed. "Barbara is my friend."

  All the more reason to rub salt in her wounds whenever you get the chance, especially when you are the one who has inflicted the wounds. She must seethe with jealousy every time she looks at your flawless complexion, darling."

  "Ah, that reminds me. I have brought you some of your favorite face cream."

  "Thank you so much, darling. I have a flagrant fondness for your miracle cream. My skin used to be chafed and red as a lobster before you concocted your luscious face cream. You must try it on your belly—I trow it would prevent stretch marks."

  "Stretch marks?" Velvet puzzled.

  "Darling, you are such an innocent. Babies ruin your figure, especially large ones such as your hus­band is likely to father. Henrietta Maria and I used olive oil. It didn't help the queen much. She was such a tiny thing, and carrying Charles stretched her belly out of all proportion."

  "I refuse to let that spoil the pleasure I am taking in this baby. It's a price I'm willing to pay."

  Christian rolled her eyes. "The things we do for love."

  Velvet sipped her tea slowly, and nibbled on a bis­cuit. "Did you by any chance tell your grandson, Cav, that Grey steel had deeded Roehampton to me?"

  "I believe I did, darling. He asked me if I thought Montgomery would be interested in selling the Eliza­bethan manor to him. I told him your husband had signed it over to you as a gift and that you loved the place so much, there was no chance you would sell it. Did I guess right?"

  "Yes ... I would never sell it. But Cav didn't offer to buy Roehampton; he tried to get it by blackmailing me."

  "Blackmail? Whatever are you talking about, dar­ling?"

  "It's a long story." Velvet sighed.

  "Well, I have all day and vow to keep you prisoner until you confess all the delicious details."

  Christian listened avidly as Velvet
told her about asking Mary Beale to paint her in the nude, and by the time the tale was finished, the dowager was agog.

  "You actually told him to display it in the Presence Chamber for all to admire? Darling, how I wish I had been there to witness your triumphant declaration!"

  It was all bravado—I was a quivering jelly on the inside! I'm afraid I said it in front of his fianceé, Mary Butler. She may refuse the match."

  “Mary Butler is a child of fifteen and has no say in anything whatsoever. Ormonde will see that the match is brought off. The Devonshire fortune is the largest in England," Christian said dismissively. "My grandson always did lust after you. So now he has the nude Venus and you would like to get it back?"

  "I thought it a total calamity that brought every­thing crashing down around me. Then I found out I was having a child and suddenly the portrait's impor­tance in the grand scheme of things has become almost insignificant."

  Men are so venal, especially Cavendish men. This can actually work in our favor, if we stoop to their tac­tics. Naturally, I wouldn't hesitate to blackmail my grandson."

  "Do you think it would work, Christian?"

  "All I have to do is threaten to withhold my signa­ture on a couple of documents pertaining to his inheritance, and voilà, your portrait is miraculously returned. When I come to visit Princess Mary, I shall issue the young lecher an ultimatum."

  “I shall be forever in your debt."

  "Yes, you will have to name me godmother to your babe."

  "Thank you, Christian. That will be a great honor." Velvet set her teacup down. "I wish it were Minette who was visiting—we were such close friends. I've never met Princess Mary."

  "It will be interesting to watch the byplay between Mary and Henry Jermyn," the dowager said with a coy look.

  "The Earl of Saint Albans? Really?"

  "Really! Gossip had them secretly wedded at one point, but Henrietta Maria stoutly denied that to me. Mary was a widow at nineteen, so who could blame her for taking a lover?"

  "You amaze me. You know all the Court intrigue."

  "Yes, one of the advantages of being a confidante of the queen. Old women indulge in endless gossip." Christian leaned forward confidentially. "One of Princess Mary's ladies is Anne Hyde, the chancellor's daughter. I have it on good authority that she is in love with Charles's brother James."

  "The Duke of York has a reputation as a rake, I'm afraid."

  Christian's laugh trilled out merrily. "Velvet, you never cease to amaze me. There is no greater rake in England than Charles Stuart, yet your infatuation for him blinds you to his blatant lechery. In your eyes, the king can do no wrong."

  Velvet blushed as she thought about the long-legged dancer Charles had amused himself with at Roehampton. She thought of the fair Countess of Fal­mouth and the very pregnant Barbara Palmer. "No, I'm not blind to it any longer and his lax morals have cured me of my infatuation, but he will always be my friend, no matter how many mistresses he keeps."

  "That is most creditable, darling. You will make a wonderful mother, Velvet."

  Montgomery had never been so glad to see the smoke and church spires of London in his life. Princess Mary and her entourage of maids of honor traveled at a snail's pace, no matter how organized the captain and his King's Guard had been.

  Unloading the ship from The Hague had taken two full days because the ladies had brought their horses as well as a mountain of baggage that included beds and furnishings. Princess Mary had stayed abed for forty-eight hours to recover from mal de mer. In addi­tion to carriages, Montgomery had had to hire bag­gage carts, dray animals and drivers. With great efficiency he had sent a man ahead to reserve accom­modation in Canterbury for their first stop after Dover Castle. This was a scant fifteen miles, yet he was greatly irritated to realize the royal party would not cover that reasonable distance.

  Montgomery curbed his impatience and made al­ternate arrangements for the ladies. On the second day, his planning was more realistic and he sent a man to reserve lodgings only ten miles hence. The captain, however, had reckoned without the rain. Princess Mary adamantly refused to travel anywhere until the sun came out.

  This is England, woman! Grey steel kept his tongue between his teeth, while he silently cursed royal ladies, their addled attendants and every other spoiled female on earth.

  By the fourth day Montgomery had a damned good idea why shrewd Charles Stuart had not come himself to meet his sister. He thought with affectionate longing of the young men he had commanded in the army. Under horrendous conditions they had never com­plained, never bemoaned their lot, never been peevish or spiteful or thankless as were these pampered bitches.

  On the sixth day he offered up a prayer of thanks that Velvet was an angel to live with, compared with these women. If his wife ever behaved as they did, he would take her over his knee and tan her arse, which was exactly what this lot needed.

  It was day eight before they reached Southwark and prepared to pass over London Bridge. Montgomery dispatched one of his men to alert His Majesty that they would arrive at Whitehall sometime before dark. He scribbled a note to Charles, telling him the number of ladies as well as a tally of the baggage wagons, and advised that it would take at least two dozen servants to unload everything.

  As it turned out, Beatrice, one of Princess Mary's ladies, began to feel poorly, and Mary herself devel­oped a headache from the raucous sounds of London traffic. As a result they urged Montgomery to make all speed for Whitehall and the entourage arrived at five in the early evening.

  While the baggage carts trundled into the court­yard, and the ladies' horses were taken to the stables, the carriages they were riding in stopped at Whitehall Palace's main entrance. The weather had turned bitter cold and the ladies, all proclaiming they were freezing, pulled their voluminous fur capes close as they stepped from their coaches.

  King Charles, James, Edward Hyde, Henry Jermyn and the ever present Buckingham were there to greet the royal party. Montgomery dismounted and es­corted Princess Mary to her brother. He waited while Charles embraced his sister, in case the king had fur­ther instructions for him.

  His Majesty conveyed his gratitude with a speaking look and murmured, "I deeply appreciate this service you have done me. I am well aware it was a thankless task, Montgomery. I now grant you leave to be about your own affairs, but I shall miss you."

  "Thank you, Sire."

  Montgomery and his guards proceeded to White­hall's vast stables to tend to their mounts. The Blues took great pride in their horses and never left the grooming, feeding and watering to the stablemen.

  Charles greeted all his sister's attendants gra­ciously. His easy charm was in complete contrast with Mary's personality. She was cool, aloof and haughty, as she thought befitted her station, and the king had no illusions that she felt much affection for either him or the other members of her family. He watched with melancholy eyes as Chancellor Edward Hyde and his daughter, Anne, had a touching reunion.

  "Mary, my dear, an entire wing has been prepared for you and your ladies. I want you to be happy here and if there is aught we can do to make you more com­fortable, please let us know. I took the liberty of ar­ranging a formal reception to welcome you tomorrow night, assuming you would wish to rest this first evening at Whitehall."

  "I have a fierce migraine and I am frozen to the bone. I ask that your servants set up my bed immedi­ately."

  "My dear, the beds are all aired and awaiting you."

  "I insist on my own bed and feather mattresses, Charles. I would never sleep otherwise."

  "It shall be as you wish, Mary. Apartments have also been readied for you at St. James's Palace, where Mother resides. The building is not so ancient and di­lapidated as Whitehall. You may reside at either palace or alternate to suit yourself."

  "How is Mother? Riddled with guilt over Henry, I imagine."

  "One would imagine so, though she shows no trace of it. Ah, here we are. This entire floor is yours, to en­sure privacy."
br />   It was close to seven by the time Montgomery tended his horse and then supervised the unloading of the baggage wagons. He could have left it to the palace servants, but he wanted them to know which carts held Princess Mary's bed and baggage and the items she would demand immediately. Though he was glad his duty was over and done, his temper was still some­what testy. He decided tomorrow would be soon enough to turn his guards over to their new captain and thank them for their loyal service.

  He had brought a small gift for Charles that the king could experiment with in his laboratory. From a vessel in Dover he had obtained a canister of sodium nitrate known as saltpeter and another of potassium nitrate known as gunpowder. Greysteel carried the gift up to the king's private rooms and gave it to Prodgers. "This is something I picked up for His Majesty to use in his laboratory. I got it off a ship from China."

  "Thank you, Lord Montgomery. That was most thoughtful. His Majesty will be most pleased." Prodgers cleared his throat. "There is a matter I wanted to see you about, if you have a moment, my lord?"

  "Of course, Prodgers."

  "From time .to time, ladies of the Court often send gifts to His Majesty. They give them to Will Chiffinch, who in turn passes them to me for presentation to the king."

  Montgomery listened patiently, wishing he'd get to the point.

  "Chiffinch passed along to me a portrait of Lady Montgomery, which I haven't yet presented to His Majesty."

  Montgomery's mouth set. He'd no knowledge of Velvet having her portrait painted, but if she wished Charles to have it, it didn't surprise him. "Is there a problem?"

  "The matter is a delicate one, my lord. If you would come into the anteroom for a moment?"

  Montgomery looked at the crate Prodgers indi­cated.

  "Take a look at the portrait, my lord."

  Greysteel began to lift the painting from the crate. "Judas Iscariot!" Velvet's naked likeness smiled at him seductively and he quickly shoved it back into the crate. "Who the hellfire has seen this besides you, Prodgers?" he demanded.

  "Will Chiffinch gave me the crate, but I have no idea if he looked inside."