“Well, if you intend to let everyone dictate to you, including your wife, I can clearly see your promises are just empty words.”
“Her Majesty does not dictate to me,” he said ironically, “but you, my love, fight me tooth and nail every chance you get. I swear ’tis so you can display how lovely you are when you are angered,” he said in a coaxing voice as he moved close and slid one strong hand up her arm to rest on her bare shoulder.
She flung his hand off. “I always allow you to take advantage of me. You think everything can be settled in bed,” she stormed.
“So most things can, love. Come, Barbara, you know your need is as great as mine.” His hand moved to cup her magnificent breast again and she moaned low in her throat. “No, no, noooo, Charles, not this time. When I think of the sacrifices I’ve made for you, my blood runs cold and now you won’t even take my part against them!”
“Sacrifices, Barbara?” he asked, thinking of the money, houses, and jewels he’d lavished on her.
“I’m the scandal of Whitehall—the whole court knows you’re at me in daylight hours as well as at night. I’ve sacrificed my reputation, I’ve sacrificed the goodwill of my husband.” She threw open the bedchamber door and cried dramatically, “Come with me to the nursery and I’ll show the other sacrifices I’ve suffered for you.”
“Barbara, be still! It would be cruel and thoughtless to waken the children at this hour.” He sighed deeply. “I wish you could find it in your heart to be generous toward me, Babs. I’ve just spent a miserable two hours with Her Majesty over you.”
“Have you?” She looked inordinately pleased, and went to pour herself a glass of white Rhenish wine. As she walked before the fire her luscious curves were silhouetted through the sheer nightgown and Charles bit down hard on his lip to prevent himself from seizing her and forcing compliance.
He said shrewdly, “You aren’t going to let me into your bed, are you?”
“Not until this matter is settled, Charles.”
He lifted her velvet bedgown in his long fingers. “Then for God’s sake put this on … you’re driving me mad!”
“Did you know that Her Majesty expressly forbade Hyde signing my title?” she demanded.
“Clarendon isn’t the sort of man who would let either Catherine or myself sway him from his duty,” explained Charles.
Barbara screamed, picked up a flacon of expensive perfume, and threw it against the wall. “Clarendon? Clarendon?” she screamed like a demented parrot. “So it’s true … you’ve given him an earldom while denying me my title!”
“I’ve denied you nothing, Barbara.”
She cried hysterically, drowning out his words. “I’ve been like a faithful wife to you and this is the thanks I get … cast aside like an old shoe!”
The King smiled cynically. “Wives are notoriously faithless and you’re no exception, and as for that last accusation about casting you aside, one glance will show you I’m ready, willing, and eager to make love to you the rest of the night. Trouble is, Barbara, I believe you derive more pleasure creating a scene and watching me beg than in lying with me.”
His words infuriated her. “You know that’s not true. I’m the most passionate woman you’ve ever made love to! I’m the only woman who can match your sensuality. I’m always eager to satisfy any new tastes for which you develop an appetite.”
“Yes, that is true,” he said wistfully, “but for eleven years I went hat in hand across Europe. My begging days are over, Barbara.” He donned his purple velvet coat and clapped his hat upon his head. “See an apothecary about these vapors, madame, I find them increasingly tiresome,” he warned. “I bid you good night, or rather good morning!”
Ruark Helford was faring no better than his monarch. After he left Her Majesty’s drawing room he made his way to the fashionable house he had rented in Tothill Street for Mistress Ann Ashley. He let himself in quietly then realized there was little need for quiet since she was not yet at home.
He made himself comfortable by removing his hat and coat and helped himself to a bottle of burgundy. He could not question her maid as she was nowhere to be found and so he sat back to wait with his feet propped up casually on a polished table.
After an hour and the burgundy had both disappeared he was spoiling for a fight. He opened a small drawer in the table and began to leaf through Ann’s bills. The muscle in his jaw clenched like iron as he found she had run up five hundred pounds in clothes and jewels this week alone.
She came in with her maid, saw the look on his face, and said quickly, “Leave us, Millie.”
Ruark Helford greeted her with neither word nor kiss, and she saw by his stance that he was in a very dangerous mood. She threw her fan, muff, mask, and cloak into a chair and began to undo her gown. She knew she must get him into bed as quickly as possible. She said breathlessly, “Ruark, darling, I thought you were with the King tonight. If I’d been expecting you, I wouldn’t have dreamed of going to Elizabeth Hamilton’s supper party.”
Still holding the bills, he regarded her figure from head to foot and she babbled, “I needed a new gown, Ruark.”
He slanted an eyebrow. “One?”
“Well, three then … and I thought perhaps you’d like to make me a gift of the pearls as a sort of goodbye present.” She pouted prettily. “I wish you weren’t leaving for Cornwall, darling, I’ll simply die of loneliness.”
She had removed her gown and stood before him in her busk, a small corset which uplifted her breasts, and a pair of lace stockings with pink garters. She prayed the dishabille would divert him. It did not.
“Are there any more of these or is this the lot?” He casually waved the fistful of bills.
She approached him carefully. “You’ve spoiled me so much, my love, let me thank you in the way you love best.” She removed the busk and he glanced down at her small, pretty breasts and tiny waist. She stood on tiptoe and slid her arms up about his neck, bringing her bared breasts in contact with his wide chest.
