"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."
"Very well," Lucinda answered, allowing him to help her to her feet, "but you men are really quite ridiculous with all your secret societies and old-fashioned ideas."
"You are brave as well as bold, m'lady," he told her. Reaching up, he pulled the pins from her chestnut hair, tossing them carelessly away. "We shall see how you feel when tonight's festivities are over and done with." He loosed her thick, heavy hair, combing it with his fingers. Then taking her arm The Master led Lady Lucinda from her prison.
Chapter Two
Stepping out into the summer twilight, Lucinda saw they were deep in the countryside. Her prison had been a room in a garden shed. Now they traversed a large, very overgrown garden. The smell of roses was overpowering. Ahead of her she saw a well-proportioned, ivy-covered brick house. It was obviously quite old, possibly dating back to the reign of the great Elizabeth, Lucinda thought. But before they reached the house, he turned aside, leading her down a narrow, winding path and through a small orchard. Exiting the trees on the far side of the orchard, Lucinda saw before her the ruins of a round stone structure. It was roofless. As they entered, she thought the building reminded her of a miniature coliseum, for it was similar in design to the arena she had seen in Rome with Robert when they were on their honeymoon trip.
The scene was very well lit by torches that barely flickered in the warm June night. Above in the twilight sky the stars were beginning to twinkle. The stone benches were peopled by gentlemen in dark, hooded cloaks. An excited murmur arose from the crowd as The Master led his captive into the center of the arena. It was all wonderfully dramatic, Lucinda thought, vastly amused. The poor girls these men brought here for seduction must have been terrified. She, however, was not.
"Here is the female, Lady Lucinda Harrington, my lords, come to stand before your judgment for her crimes," The Master said in his cultured, but rough voice. "What say you, my lords?"