"I'm going to do the morning room and the salon in yellow and cream," Lucinda told Caroline. Then she turned to her brother. "I want The Five Graces, Georgie. That portrait you had painted of Caro and the children really belongs in the place of honor in your house, not a painting of your five troublesome sisters." She smiled at him.

"It is yours," he replied generously, smiling at her, knowing he had pleased his wife by his answer. The Five Graces would be a worthy addition to Lucinda's husband's home. Wherever that was to be.

Lucinda hired an agent to act for her while she was out of London. She spent the next several weeks arranging for her new dwelling to be painted, carefully choosing the colors herself; dealing with the draper for the fabrics that would be made into draperies and curtains for her windows; speaking herself with Mr. Chippendale about the furniture she was ordering from his shop; and choosing the magnificent Oriental carpets that would grace her floors. There was china from Dr. Wall's Royal Worcester potteries to be chosen from a pattern book and all manner of household items that would be needed. A gardener was hired to restore the walled garden behind the house.

"I shall hire the servants when I return," Lucinda told her brother.

"Excellent! Excellent!" her brother replied. "Do you have any idea of when you wish to depart for Julia's, m'dear?"

"I believe I can be ready in another fortnight," Lucinda said, smiling. "You have been so helpful, Georgie. I'm certain you and Caro will be happy to have the manse back to yourselves. I know if it were my house, I should feel that way, no matter how much I love you."

"I shall make all the arrangements, m'dear," her brother said. "I know it shall be a most eventful summer for you, Luci."

Finally the morning arrived for Lucinda's departure. Her trunks were packed and put atop the large traveling coach that stood before the London house the bishop had been renting. George Worth had told his sister that she would travel across country to Cardiff. From there she would embark for Ireland. She would not, the bishop assured her, have to see her sister Charlotte. Charlotte would not even know she was in the vicinity. As her trip would take several days, her accommodations had been booked at respectable inns and were already paid for by her brother. "My little gift to you," he said as he kissed her goodbye. "I shall come to London to see you when you return, m'dear." Then the Bishop of Wellington helped his sister into her traveling vehicle and waved her off with a smile, and not the least twinge of a conscience.

The weather fair, and the roads dry, Lucinda's carriage traveled relatively swiftly over the day. A basket lunch had been provided. The mistress shared it with her maid, Polly. In late afternoon they arrived at the Silver Swan, a delightful inn at Maidenhead. Lucinda was ushered into the building with all the deference she expected. A two-room suite had been booked for her. She was served a light supper of roasted turkey breast with new peas, fresh bread, a local cheese, and a dish of June strawberries. The wine was the most delicious she had ever tasted, but she was quickly sleepy and had to be helped to her bed by Polly.

"Gracious," she murmured as her maid helped her to undress, "traveling has obviously done something to my head." Then falling upon the bed she was immediately asleep, even before her hair could be undone and braided.

Polly put her mistress's clothing neatly away and laid out her garments for the next day's travel. Then helping herself to the remaining wine, she drank it all and was quickly asleep herself on the trundle. An hour later the door to the little suite opened, and several cloaked gentlemen, their faces carefully obscured, entered. Lucinda's possessions were gathered up and removed. Both she and Polly were carried to the waiting coach. In the morning, the innkeeper, well paid in advance, would assume his guest had departed early in the morning. The elegant vehicle slowly and quietly exited the inn yard, disappearing into the darkness.

Lucinda awoke. Her head was throbbing. Why was the bed so hard suddenly? She tried to turn over, only to discover that she could not. Despite the ache in her head, her senses abruptly sharpened. This was not the inn where she had gone to sleep last night. She was in a tiny, cell-like cubicle. A shutter barred the window, but she could make out a narrow ribbon of gray light coming through it. She was not upon a bed, but a straw pallet. And she was chained by one arm to the wall! Her eyes swept the little space for Polly, but the maid wasn't there. Lucinda wondered if she had been kidnapped, and where Polly was.

"Hello?" she called out softly, and then as her courage returned, more loudly, "Hello?"

She immediately heard footsteps outside her chamber, and the door opened to admit someone. The shutter was flung wide to allow in the bright light of early morning, the fresh country air. She could see the figure of a man. He turned about to face her, and Lucinda was unable to restrain a gasp of both surprise and shock. The man was quite tall, having a beautiful and extremely well formed body. Lucinda stared. He was bare-chested, and wore the tightest fitting breeches she had certainly ever seen. They followed every line of his body, displaying long legs with shapely calves just above his boots, and well-rounded buttocks. She had never seen such a garment before and thought it deliciously indecent. When he had turned, she saw he was masked so that she could not view his entire face. Then she gasped again. There was a narrow slit in the front of the man's breeches, and his manhood was hanging out quite boldly for her to see. It was, she considered, a most healthy and sizeable organ.

"Good morning, Lady Lucinda," he said.

"Who are you?" Lucinda demanded in a most imperious tone, tearing her eyes away from that most fascinating temptation.

He smiled, and she saw a quick flash of white teeth, "I am known as The Master, m'lady," was the reply.

"Where am I? I demand to be returned to the inn. Have you any idea of who I am? My brother is the Bishop of Wellington," Lucinda said angrily. She lifted her arm and rattled her chain. "Take this restraint off at once, sir! My skin is already chafed from it."

"Impossible," he replied. "Your wristband is lined in lamb's wool. It is not my intention to harm you in any way."

"Then, why am I here? And what the hell is this place?" she demanded of him.

The Master knelt next to Lucinda. "You have, my dear, offended several gentlemen with your sharp words and your less-than-gentle feminine behavior. You are, I fear, too independent, my Lady Lucinda. Tonight you will be brought before the court of the Devil's Disciples where you will be judged for your bad conduct. I am told you will be put into my hands then for mastering. When I deem you suitably trained, you will return before the court, where you will display your new attitude to all the gentlemen present. The three suitors you have so scorned will then each have their way with you. Afterward you will choose the one you favor best. Only then will you be returned to your own world where your engage-, ment will be announced, followed by your wedding."

"I have already told that trio of fools that I should not have any of them," Lucinda said fiercely. "My late husband said that when I wed again, it must be for love and no other reason. I do not love Rexford, Hargrave, or Bertram. There is nothing you can do that will make me love them, sir. Now, unchain me at once. If you release me now, I shall not go to the authorities, but continue on my way to Ireland. If I do not arrive when I am scheduled to arrive, my sister, Lady Rafferty, will inform the authorities. You will be found out, and I shall see you are prosecuted to the full extent of the law, sir!"

The Master burst out laughing. Then as quickly his amusement was gone. He kissed Lucinda hard, his lips forcing her lips apart, his tongue thrusting deeply into her mouth where he caressed her tongue. As suddenly his body forced hers back upon the pallet, lying atop her. "You are going to be a great deal more fun to master than the little governess who was brought to me last time," he told her wickedly. "I am going to enjoy taming you, Lady Lucinda. And you, I promise, will enjoy it, too."

She could feel his manhood rising through the thin fabric of her silk night garment. His body was both warm and hard. For a brief moment she was terrified. Then the feeling dissolved, and she said through gritted teeth, "You, sir, can go to hell!"

With another laugh he stood up. Then looking down at his manhood which was now engorged, he said with a grin, "Until tonight, my dear," and he turned toward the door.

"Wait!" Lucinda cried. "Where is my maid, Polly?"

"In my bed," came the surprising reply. "She's a damned good fuck, your Poll. I'll send her to you after I take care of this," and he gestured to his swollen penis. Then he was gone out the door.

What was going on? Lucinda asked herself. The Devil's Disciples? Her brother would have been shocked to learn that Lucinda had already heard about them. Just bits of gossip, whispered secretly in hushed tones by the ladies at various social functions. They would shiver deliciously and roll their eyes at the mere mention of this group. It was a secret gentlemen's fellowship, a rival to the Hellfire Club, where the men were alleged to sport themselves in all manner of debauchery with women both willing and unwilling. And there bad, indeed, been talk of Lord Meldrew's governess this season past.

From what this man who called himself The Master had said, she gathered that her three rejected suitors had arranged for this kidnapping of her person. They were indeed as big a trio of fools as she had ever known. When George learned of her disappearance, he would certainly raise a hue and cry. They were going to pay dearly for this outrage. Thank God she was not some little virgin whose lily white reputation could be destroyed by such actions. And while they might brag on seducing a governess, they would certainly not dare to boast of kidnapping and ravaging a lady of quality. If she could not escape them, then she intended seeing that the gentlemen of the Devil's Disciples were taught a stern lesson for their presumption.

The door to the little room opened again, and Polly crept in, bearing a tray of food. "Ohh, m'lady," she began, but Lucinda cut her quite short.

"Do not play the innocent with me," she said. "That bandit who has us in his power says he has bedded you. Is it true, you little bawd?" Lucinda fixed her maid with a fierce eye.

"I couldn't stop him," Polly wailed.

"You were a virgin?" Lucinda said. "The truth, you shameless trull, for I shall ask him, and he is not loath to brag upon it."

"I weren't no virgin," Polly admitted, sniffling as she put the tray down.

"Did you ever… with my husband?" Lucinda demanded.

"Never, my lady! Lord Robert were a real gentleman!" Polly cried indignantly.

"My brother, then?" Lucinda probed further.

Polly flushed, and hung her head.

Lucinda laughed. "I thought I heard Georgie creeping about in the night. You know I am a light sleeper, and the floorboards on the stairs to the attics creak. Is he a good lover, my brother?"

Polly shrugged noncommittally.

"In other words as dull as his sermons," Lucinda noted. "A swift kiss-me-quick, and a poke, and Georgie's finished, eh?"

"M'lady!" Polly's pretty cheeks were quite scarlet now.

"It was never that way with Robert Harrington," Lucinda said. "He was a man who knew how to love a woman, Polly." Then Lucinda's eye turned to the tray. Upon it was a beautifully poached egg surrounded by a delicate cream sauce flavored with dill, a little slice of pink ham, a slice of warmed bread, already buttered, a dish of honey, and a beaker from which rose the aroma of fine India tea. Lucinda ate it all, asking Polly to cut the ham for her as she had not the use of both of her hands.

Polly departed, returning in midafternoon with another tray. This one contained a slice of capon's breast, another slice of buttered bread, a dish of tiny strawberries, and a goblet of wine. It was the very same wine she had had the evening before, and while Lucinda knew it was probably drugged as the previous beverage had been, she drank it anyway. Then she slept. Sleep was better than sitting about with her thoughts as she had all morning. When she awoke again, she could see the summer twilight was upon the land.

The door to her chamber opened, and The Master entered the room. Bending, he unlocked the manacle about her left wrist, freeing her from her chain. "Come, Lady Lucinda. It is time for you to greet your accusers and face the judgment of the Devil's Disciples."