His house was delightful, built, as she suspected, in the reign of the first Elizabeth when his family had made their fortune in the beginning of the Indies' trade. Their title, he said, predated their short-lived wealth. It went back to the times before King William, he who had come from Normandy. It was, Lucinda felt, a home before it was a great house. The walls were paneled; the floors, wide boards. Both were black with age. There were fine, but worn, Turkey carpets in the public rooms, a wonderful library and a picture gallery filled with portraits of the ancestors.
"Do you look like any of your antecedents?" she asked him one day, and he had laughed.
"No," he said. "I look like my mother, and there is no portrait of her as there were no monies to pay an artist when she was alive." He tipped her face up to his, and asked softly, "Does it matter to you what I look like, Lucinda?"
"No," she said, "but you cannot expect me not to be curious, Robbie. For two months we have been lovers, and you have been masked the entire time when you are with me. Even when we ride out across your lands. I understand your reasons for keeping your face from me, but I shall never wed a man who inhabits high society. It is unlikely we would meet socially."
"But if we do one day, and you have not seen my face, then you shall not be ashamed or embarrassed," he replied.
He never spent an entire night with her, disappearing after their lovemaking to his own bedchamber next door, which was firmly barred to her, and to Polly. " I must know who he is!" she said to her maidservant. "I must know!"
"Shouldn't think you'd care given the skillful way he wields that big cock of his," Polly answered saucily. "I asked John what he looks like, and he says he ain't anything special."
"You and John are rather thick," Lucinda noted.
"He wants to marry me, m'lady," Polly confessed.
"You'd marry a man who practices such a profession as he does?" Lucinda was surprised.
"John's pa wants him to come home to Hereford and take over his smithy, m'lady," Polly said. "He only went into service to better himself, but he says now he realizes he's better in the smithy."
"Do you want to marry him, Polly?" Lucinda asked her maid.
"Oh, yes, m'lady, I do!" the girl said. "I'd have me own house and everything. John's pa is a widower."
"You two seem to have discussed this quite thoroughly," Lucinda said thoughtfully. "When do you plan to leave me?"
"John and me both agree, m'lady, that we won't go till this is over and done with. I explained everything to him, and he thinks you're ever so brave to do what you must do to have your revenge," Polly told her mistress. "He says The Master has been a good master, and he knows he's not going to do this any more after you are gone."
"Do you mean to tell me Robert is retiring as The Master of the Devil's Disciples?" He had really meant it, Lucinda considered, excited.
"Yes, m'lady, he is. He says he is bored and tired of it."
"I must learn his true identity," Lucinda said, "but how?" She looked to Polly. "Would John know?"
"He might," Polly said, "but I don't think he'll betray The Master, m'lady. Why is it so important to you? Certainly you won't ever want to meet this gentleman after we have left here. You may not wed the duke, the marquess, or his lordship, but one day you will certainly marry again. What if your husband knows this man? Or you meet him at a ball, or a rout? Tis better you don't know, m'lady."
"The Master," Lucinda told her surprised servant, "is the only man I will marry, Polly. He has promised to come to the Countess of Whitley's ball where my brother must announce my betrothal. If I don't know who The Master is, how can George announce my engagement?"
Polly's eyes were big with her astonishment. Finally she regained her voice, and said, "But what if The Master ain't a gentleman, m'lady?"
"I know this house is his. His ancestors hang in the portrait gallery, Polly. He is a gentleman. One, I realize, of small means, but a gentleman nonetheless. There has to be a way of learning his true name and rank. There has to be!"
Polly shook her head. "I'll tell John what you've told me, m'lady. He'd like to see The Master happy as we're happy, I know, and he'll keep yer secret if I asks him to keep it."
To Lucinda's surprise it was the footman who approached her several days later. "If your ladyship were to go into the library some day," he said quietly, "she would find a large volume upon an oak stand, where the answers she seeks are to be found."
"When?" Lucinda asked softly.
"He has to be away all day tomorrow negotiating with a prince who wishes to purchase one of Rhamses's ungelded male offspring for his own stud in Turkey. The prince is staying nearby at Lord Bowen's home. Dick and Martin like to sneak into the village when The Master's away. The barmaids at The Frog and Swan are most accommodating, and as The Master ain't let them at you, m'lady, they're right randy. I've had some time of it keeping our Polly safe from them two, I can tell you. When they've gone off tomorrow, I'll send Polly to fetch you. Then it's up to you to find the information you need."
"Can you tell me nothing of him?" Lucinda queried the footman.
John shook his head. "We actually know little more than you do, m'lady We was told when we arrived that we was to call him The Master. We was all in service at Lord Bowen's. Dick and Martin will go back, I'm certain, when this is finished. Lord Bowen only told us that The Master was a titled gentleman, and because of what he would do for the Devil's Disciples, he wished to remain anonymous. We've seen his face, of course, but we had never seen him before we came here. Lord Bowen, you understand, spends most of his time in London. Besides, none of us can read, so it wouldn't do us no good to look in that big book."
Lucinda nodded. "I understand, John, and I thank you for your help in the matter. I shall see you and Polly have a fine gift on the occasion of your wedding."
"I must go over to a friend's this morning," The Master told Lucinda the next day. "I fear I shall be gone for several hours. Do you mind being alone?"
"I should welcome it," Lucinda said. "I know the hardest of my lessons are to come very soon, my darling Robbie. It is already September first, and the full moon will be upon us shortly."
He kissed her tenderly. "If there were another way," he said.
"I know," she told him, and indeed she did. If The Master allowed Lucinda to escape, her suitors would take their revenge on him. Then they would hunt their prey down, and one of them would force her to the altar. No. If she was to have her revenge, she would have to pretend to be mastered and yield herself to the hateful trio.
He left her, and shortly afterward Lucinda, gazing out her bedchamber window, saw Dick and Martin hurrying off down the lane in brown homespun breeches and linen shirts, their livery left behind. She waited patiently until Polly came to say it was safe for her mistress to go downstairs into the library. Lucinda hurried down the stairs. How quiet the lovely old house was this morning. Curious, she wandered about for a moment, opening doors. There was a beautiful little Great Hall with a single enormous fireplace. The tapestries on the wall were dusty, but well woven. It was obvious that the house had never been modernized since it had been built in fifteen hundred and one, for that was the date etched into the fireplace wall. Sunlight filtered through the dirty high windows. The furniture was good country oak. Cleaning, polishing, and some accessories would do wonders, she thought. Then she smiled to herself and went to the library, opening the door cautiously as if she expected to find someone there, but the paneled room was quite empty.
There! There by one of the casement windows was the book stand, and upon it the volume John had spoken of to Polly. There was a simple crest upon it. A crescent moon d'or surrounded by five-pointed gold stars upon an azure field. It was artless, but unique, Lucinda thought. Slowly she opened the book. A History of the Earls of Stanton, the title page said. Lucinda wasted no time in turning to the back of the book, and it was there she found it. Lucían Robert Charles Phillips, born August nineteenth, seventeen twenty. And after that there were no further entries. His mother's and his father's births, marriage and deaths were registered as was his paternal grandmother's.
It was all she really needed to know, but her curiosity not completely satisfied, Lucinda returned to the front of the book to discover that the Phillipses were a very ancient and honorable noble family. Family deaths matched all major battles fought in the king's name. There were at least two Earls of Stanton who had gone on crusade. Before Lucinda knew it the morning had gone, and the afternoon was upon her. Polly came to seek her out.
"Have you found out what you need to know, m'lady?"
"I have," Lucinda replied.
"Then come and have something to eat," the servant said.
Lucinda followed Polly into the garden where a table had been set up with her luncheon. John was waiting to serve her. He held the chair for Lucinda as she sat down. "I know what I need to know now," she began. "I prefer to keep my knowledge to myself for the interim. When we have returned to London, Polly, I shall tell you both. John, I want you to come with us until after the Countess of Whitley's ball is over. Then I will see you and Polly are transported safely to your father's home in Hereford. I think you should be married as soon as we get to London, however."
Polly was disappointed, but John said, "I understand perfectly, my lady. A London wedding would be most suitable. Your kindness toward us is appreciated, especially considering how we began," he finished with a deep blush.
Lucinda's vivid blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "I believe the less said about that small moment in time, the better off we all are, John. You may serve me now."
"Yes, m'lady," the footman said, all business again.
Afterward when she and Polly were alone, sunning themselves on the camomile lawn, the maidservant said, "You'll tell me now that my John's gone, won't you, m'lady?"
Lucinda shook her head. "No, Polly, I meant what I said. The Master's true identity will remain a secret until we are back in London, but rest assured he is a titled gentleman. But even if he weren't, I should be content."
"Is his name really Robert?" Polly asked.
"It is one of his Christian names," Lucinda replied, with a smile. "He has two others as well."
"He is a real gentleman," Polly said, sounding impressed.
Everyone knew that only real gentlemen had several Christian names.
The Master returned from a successful day in an excellent mood. He and Lucinda sat that evening dining at opposite ends of the highboard in the Great Hall. It was the first time she had been invited into the hall.
"As I rode back from Lord Bowen's today," he began, "I had an inspiration, my pet. I believe I can save you from being publicly ravished by those three villains who seek to marry you. I cannot, however, be certain it will work, but I believe, knowing the personalities involved, that I can tweak their pride so that they will not embarrass you."
"How?" she demanded of him.
"I do not want to tell you," he said. "Better it not appear as if you and I are in collusion, Lucinda."
"As much as I should like to avoid having any of the trio use my body, if I do not allow it, how can I have my revenge upon them? I want them always to remember I was the best, and the most memorable, fuck any of them ever had. Each time they couple with a woman after, I want them to remember me and ache with my loss. If you save me from them, then how can I accomplish what I have set out to do?"
"I may not be able to save you," he reiterated. "Their lust for you may overcome their vanity and their hauteur. You may well have to yield to them, but if I can rescue you from such a fate, you can still accomplish your purpose. I shall tell the assembled that night that your brother will announce your betrothal the night of Whitley's ball. That ball celebrates the end of the fall hunting season and the return to London of society's most important denizens. Everyone who is anyone will be there, my pet. What a coup for the winner of your fair hand to have your betrothal announced that night. And you may keep your swains eager before that evening. Privately, of course, but if I can keep you from public humiliation, Lucinda, I should like to do it," The Master told her. "And then when no an-nouncement is forthcoming, what delicious public humiliation for the trio, for you may be absolutely certain each will have bragged to his friends that it is he you will choose. Then when they come to you outraged afterward, you can threaten to expose the Devil's Disciples and their wicked ways."
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