Bertrice Small - Fascinated

Lucinda thought a moment. Her brother was being very reasonable, and he was right. London's reputation in summertime was foul. "I shall go to Ireland to visit Julia and her Brian," she decided aloud. Julia had always been fun. Her other sisters bored her.

"I shall write to Julia myself," the bishop said to his youngest sister. "When you have concluded your business, m'dear, I shall arrange for your travel. I have been given to understand that Dublin is quite lively even in the summertime."

"You have been so good to me, George," Lucinda said to him. "I am sorry it has taken us so long to come to terms. But now we have, and everything is going to be all right."

"Oh, indeed it will, m'dear," George Worth agreed. Lucinda would be taken in hand by The Master, and tamed. When The Master had concluded his instruction, Lucinda would be an obedient and proper woman. Her suitors were willing to allow it and wait. In the end she would have to pick one of them. There would be no other road for her to take. She would be well married by Christmas just like his other sisters. One day she would thank him for having taken a firm hand in securing her good fortune. The bishop smiled at his wife and his sister, pleased with his own thoughts. "You had best send for Mr. Wythe," he told Lucinda. "You don't want someone else to snap up your house, m'dear."

By the day's end, however, the house at Three Traleigh Square was the property of Lady Lucinda Harrington. The next morning, key in her gloved hand, she entered her new property in the company of her brother and sister-in-law. George Worth had to admit that his sister had an excellent eye. The house, while not large, was charming. It would resell quickly. On the main floor was a morning room, a formal salon, a library, and a dining room. Below the stairs were spacious kitchens opening onto a large back garden with an apple tree. On the upper floors there were several bedchambers and dressing rooms. The attics were light and airy so that the servants would be more than reasonably comfortable. On a corner of the square, the house had more windows than its neighbors'. The previous owners had not left any furniture, and it needed paint and general decor.

"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.