Lord Savage (8 page)

“Yes, ma’am,” Simpson said. “That’s rather the purpose, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be impudent,” I snapped. “Why would her ladyship expect her guests to appear
is such a—a state of nudity?”

“Not all her guests, ma’am,” Simpson said. “Only the newcomers. The newcomer gentlemen
will be wearing trousers of the same stuff, and without any drawers beneath, neither.
Nothing’s to be hidden, ma’am, not tonight.”

“Nothing’s to be hidden?” I repeated, my voice rising. Certainly nothing would be
hidden if I were to appear in this—this costume. “Hidden from what?”

“From the Protectors, ma’am,” Simpson said, as if this were the most obvious explanation
in the world. “Forgive me, ma’am, but didn’t her ladyship explain the Game to you?”

“No, she did not,” I said. “Simpson, go to her ladyship and tell her that I must speak
to her at once. At once!”

The maid curtseyed and left, and I sank onto the edge of the bed, the costume still
clutched in my hands. I looked down at it, seeing how the stones of my rings showed
through the silk. Not even Arthur had seen me in such a revealing garment. I could
not imagine appearing before a group of virtual strangers in such an indecent state.

It would be one thing to undress before Lord Savage, as a lover would in my bedroom,
but not
this.
With a wordless exclamation I balled up the costume and hurled it across the bed.

“Mrs. Hart?” Sounding faintly wounded, Lady Carleigh stood in the door with Simpson
hovering behind her. “I understand you are having some misgivings about my taste in
costumes.”

I came forward and shut the door behind the other woman, leaving Simpson in the hall.
I took a deep breath to compose myself, and chose my words with care. I didn’t wish
to offend the viscountess, but I did need to make my misgivings clear.

“When I accepted your invitation, Lady Carleigh,” I began, “I thought I would be attending
a house party in the country. I’d no idea that you would be turning your house into
a—a brothel, with your guests expected to parade about in next to nothing!”

“A brothel?” Lady Carleigh clucked with dismay. “Oh, my dear, it seems we do have
a misunderstanding. When I met you, I believed you were an adventurous lady, full
of spirit, and one who would contribute to my gathering.”

I raised my chin. “I am spirited, yes, but that does not mean that I am a—a slattern.”

“So what exactly does it mean?” The viscountess tipped her head to one side. “That
you are a spirited prig? That you are too cowardly to explore the more interesting
aspects of pleasure? That you are unable to trust another? That you are too fearful
to give yourself over to delights so rich that you cannot even imagine them?”

I didn’t answer, my head spinning with doubts. Explained this way, I did sound like
a prude, and worse, a coward. Hadn’t I left New York behind for exactly this kind
of experimentation? Hadn’t I wished to discover experiences that were far beyond my
narrow past?

“Especially when that pleasure would be in the arms of Lord Savage,” Lady Carleigh
continued. “He has taken a great liking to you, you know. He is most particular in
his choices of companionship, and I assure you that he was immediately drawn to you.”

“He was?” I asked, pleased. “I was drawn to him as well. Though he has been somewhat—somewhat
challenging.”

“What man isn’t?” said the viscountess, sweeping her arm through the air to encompass
challenging men everywhere. “But Lord Savage is worth that challenge, Mrs. Hart. Entirely.”

I sighed, thinking of him. If ever a man was worth a challenge—any challenge—it would
be Lord Savage.

“Nor will our delightful little game be such a terrible ordeal,” Lady Carleigh continued.
“It’s all in sport, you see, and great fun. You newcomers will now be called Innocents,
because you are. Those of us who’ve visited here before become the Protectors, protecting
and educating the Innocents in our ways. Surely you can find no threat in that?”

I said nothing. I didn’t agree, but then, I no longer quite disagreed, either. After
all, I truly
was
an innocent, in more ways than someone like Lady Carleigh could ever understand.

“As soon as all the Innocents return to join us downstairs, the next stage of our
entertainment will begin,” the viscountess continued. “Even now the Protectors are
choosing the Innocents they wish to have under their, ah, tutelage, by submitting
their selection by way of cards in a hat. It’s my role to announce the pairings, and
then the true amusement begins.”

“I see,” I said, reassured. With Lady Carleigh making the final decisions, there would
be no question of my ending up with anyone other than Lord Savage. “What occurs after
that?”

“Why, I cannot say,” Lady Carleigh said, chuckling. “Each Protector will have a different
method of instruction, just as each Innocent will have different inadequacies or failings
that will need correction. All in sport, of course.”

“Of course,” I murmured faintly. “But the pleasure that you promise—”

“Oh, it will be there, I’m certain of that,” Lady Carleigh said blithely. “For the
remainder of the week, the Innocent must do exactly as the Protector bids. Having
played the part of an Innocent myself—for I would never ask my guests to do anything
without having experienced it firsthand—I can assure you that you will enjoy yourself.”

“If you have done it yourself,” I said slowly, “then I suppose it must not be so very
bad.”

“Not at all!” exclaimed the viscountess. “While the experience of being an Innocent
may at first seem distressing, it is in fact quite, quite thrilling, and pleasurable.
Especially if you draw a Protector like Lord Savage.”

Slowly I retrieved the costume and smoothed it in my hands. It was not just the revealing
nature of the costume that concerned me; it was also how it symbolized my lack of
choice, and how I would be required to give up control to another, even if that other
was Lord Savage. “Must I wear this?”

“I fear so, my dear,” Lady Carleigh said. “To give wings to our little fantasy, it’s
necessary to strip away all our old misgivings and inhibitions. It is a costume, to
make you believe more in the part you’ve chosen to play among us. That’s all it is,
you know: playing, and pretend.”

I listened, trying to make sense of this explanation. “Playing” and “pretend” struck
me as childish, yet the so-called Game that would be played would be nothing but adult.

Lady Carleigh lay her gloved hand on my arm to reassure me.

“Consider it all a way to entertain ourselves most pleasurably for the time we are
here,” she said, “and nothing beyond that. In your role as an Innocent, you must be
dressed to reflect inexperience, even purity.”

I shook my head as I looked down at the costume. “It’s not my inexperience that I
dread showing, my lady.”

Lady Carleigh laughed. “You of all the ladies should have no fears on that count!
You are exceptionally beautiful, and I expect the interest in you will be strongly
contested.”

Yet still I hesitated, and with a sigh, Lady Carleigh rose.

“If I have not convinced you yet, Mrs. Hart,” she said, her voice and manner full
of resignation, “and you still do not wish to play our game, then I shall send for
the motorcar for you directly. You’re not a prisoner here, you know. You’re always
free to leave at any time, and return to London, or wherever you wish.”

The viscountess crossed the room, pausing at the door to smile sadly.

“Poor Savage!” she said. “He will be most grievously disappointed when I tell him
you’ve changed your mind.”

I considered the costume again, striving to imagine Lord Savage’s reaction when he
saw me in it. If I departed now, I’d never know for sure what that reaction would
be, and all I’d be left with would be regrets. If I fled to London, then I might as
well sail home to New York on the next steamship.

My grand, ambitious adventure would be done, finished before it had begun, and all
because I was too much a coward to seize the opportunity—and the man—that I’d claimed
I wanted. I’d always believed myself to be independent, but if I left now, I’d be
letting my prim upbringing win, and I’d be acting exactly like every other proper
New York widow would. I would not be the bold renegade that Lord Savage had called
me. I’d be a sheep—a proper, obedient, boring sheep.

And at last I had my answer. I nodded resolutely, my mind made up.

“If you please, my lady,” I said. “Send for Simpson, so that I might change my clothes.”

Lady Carleigh smiled and clapped her hands. “Oh, I am glad, Mrs. Hart! You’ll see.
You will not regret this, not for a moment.”

The viscountess summoned the maid, and left to return to her other guests. Simpson
said nothing, but briskly began removing the many layers of my evening dress.

“Have you prepared other ladies to be, ah, Innocents, Simpson?” I asked as the maid
unfastened the long row of tiny buttons on the back of my dress. “That is, before
today?”

“I’ve done better than that, ma’am,” Simpson said. “I’ve played the role of an Innocent
myself, when there weren’t enough fine ladies to match the gentlemen. Her ladyship
told the truth, too. It is most exciting, having all those gentlemen gawking away
at you like you was a right goddess.”

“You weren’t ashamed to wear so little?”

“What, you mean the costume?” Simpson said, unlacing my long corset. “Nay, not really.
All the other Innocents’ll be dressed the same, so that’s a comfort. We’re paid extra
wages for it, too, plus what our masters give us. I’ve earned more in a week playing
an Innocent than an entire year as a maid.”

“That must be welcome,” I said, thankful there’d be no money involved with my performance.
Having a gentleman—even Lord Savage—pay for my favors would be … distasteful.

“Extra money’s always welcome, ma’am,” Simpson agreed. “I won’t deny it. But mostly
it’s the power of the Game, ma’am. Standing there before them gentlemen, displaying
what God gave you, it makes you feel powerful to be a woman. Nothing to be a-frighted
of, ma’am. You’ll see.”

She quickly removed the last of my clothes, leaving only my shoes and stockings.

“Gentlemen prefer a pretty pair of silk stockings to a bare leg, ma’am,” Simpson explained
briskly. “And the heeled shoes show your feet and ankles to better advantage than
slapping along barefoot like a duck.”

She held the costume up over my arms and dropped it over my now-naked body. The silk
slithered and fell into place, clinging to my breasts and bottom like the merest whisper
of a caress.

“You must take off your jewels, ma’am,” Simpson said, already pulling the diamond
pin from my hair. “You can’t be wearing nothing that shows who you are, or were. Innocents
don’t have pasts, and they don’t have futures. They can only live in the present,
as their Protector sees fit.”

I frowned. “That sounds rather like my own father and his endless rules.”

“I’ll warrant it is, ma’am,” Simpson said, musing. “For aren’t all fathers and husbands
protectors?”

“I should not like my father to have seen me dressed like this,” I said.

Simpson laughed, deeply and earthily.

“Nor my own da, either,” she said. “I would’ve gotten a proper thrashing if he had.
But Lady Carleigh’s game is different, because it’s pretend. You’re not to address
your Protector unless he addresses you first, or unless he gives you leave. He can
call you whatever he pleases, but you can only call him ‘Master,’ even if he be a
lord. You’re supposed to be dependent on him for everything. That’s part of the sport.
There you are, ma’am. Have I pleased you?”

Taking a deep breath, I crossed the room to the tall standing mirror.

It was I, but not I. The woman staring back at me from the mirror was undeniably beautiful,
but in a wild, untamed way, like some shameless forest nymph. On my body, the costume
was like a magical mist, making me look more naked than if I’d been without it. Nothing
was hidden, from the round fullness of my breasts to the dip of my navel, to the shadowy
curls at the juncture of my thighs.

“Permit me, ma’am,” Simpson said, standing behind me. She reached around to fondle
my breasts and tweak my nipples. Startled, I gasped, and tried to squirm free.

“Nay, ma’am, you must trust me about this,” Simpson said firmly. “The gentlemen do
love the titties, and you’ve a wondrous pair of them. But you want to show yourself
pert and ready. Rub them yourself before you enter the room so they’ll be stiff, ma’am.
Though as soon as you feel all them eyes on you, they’ll go hard on their own.”

But my nipples didn’t need any further rubbing, from Simpson or my own fingers. The
thought of the scene that the maid described—of standing like this before a crowd
of lustful men—was more than sufficient to make my nipples into tight buds of excitement,
and bring a flush to my cheeks as well.

“Thank you, Simpson,” I said. “I believe I am ready. Will you escort me downstairs?”

We walked swiftly down the stairs and back to the Egyptian Room. Although the footmen
we passed were too well trained to stare, I was still acutely aware of walking before
them, the filmy costume drifting about my naked body and my uncorseted flesh jiggling
with each step.

I told myself I was playing a role, and that I was now a different lady altogether
from the painfully proper Mrs. Hart of New York. But then, hadn’t that been a role
as well, pretending in public that I was Arthur’s loving and dutiful wife when there
had never been a scrap of genuine feeling between us?

“How fetching you look, my dear!” Lady Carleigh exclaimed, slipping through the door
of the Egyptian Room and into the hallway to greet me. “I’m so happy you decided not
to leave us, with your Protector most grateful of all.”

“It’s Lord Savage, isn’t it?” I asked eagerly, trying to see past the viscountess
and through the barely cracked door. “Is he there?”