Unlacing Lady Thea

After her first encounter with an overamorous rake at a ball during her first Season, she had resolved to discover exactly what physical love involved, if only to avoid unwanted advances.

Her researches had involved a fair amount of eavesdropping on her married acquaintances and discreet rummaging in the library, to say nothing of a survey of some Greek vases that had been pushed right to the back of a high shelf. And there was the Home Farm, of course. No country-bred girl could be completely ignorant, although one hoped one’s husband, if one did ever marry, had more...finesse than Hector, the stud bull. Or Anthony, she thought with a shudder.

Thea felt she was reasonably well informed about the mechanics of the thing and had even gleaned the interesting snippet that men tended to wake up in a state of readiness for the act. That was obviously what had happened this morning. All perfectly natural and normal. Nothing to feel hot and bothered about. It had been quite impersonal, just as Rhys’s hand on her breast had been the unintentional result of sleeping so close together. And presumably her own physical reaction to that sleepy caress was automatic and natural, too. Goodness, he was large.... Even yesterday on the quayside she had not quite realised.

She spared a wistful thought for their innocent childhood as there was a tap on the door and Polly looked in.

‘I’ve got your brushes here, my lady, and some water and a towel. Would you like your breakfast in here or on deck? The ship’s cook’s got some nice fried herring.’

‘Just tea and bread and butter please, Polly. I’ll take it outside. Were you all right last night?’

The motion of the boat was gentle enough now for the water in the deep bowl to lap safely at the sides when she wedged it in a corner. She washed her face.

‘I was fine, my lady, but Mr Hodge isn’t at all happy this morning.’ Polly flapped blankets vigorously as she tidied the interior of the chaise. ‘Green as pea soup, he is, and properly on his dignity when I twitted him about it. There, all that needs is the seats putting back. And did you manage any sleep, my lady?’

Thea glanced at the maid. Was that a snide question or a perfectly genuine one? She was not going to put herself in the position of appearing defensive. ‘I was very alarmed when we started to toss so,’ she said. ‘In fact, I think I cried out, because his lordship came and wedged me in with the blankets.’

‘Oh. Wasn’t he...?’ The maid caught herself up and bit her lip.

‘Wasn’t he in here the entire time? Do you assume that I am his lordship’s mistress, Polly?’

‘Oh! My lady, I wouldn’t... I mean, it isn’t my place.’

Thea raised one eyebrow and waited.

‘Well, yes, my lady. At least, I thought you must be eloping, like. Getting married abroad. Only he’s never brought women—ladies, that’s to say, home before.’ She trailed off. ‘I’m sorry, my lady. You won’t dismiss me for impertinence, will you?’

‘No, of course not. I am not his lordship’s lover, nor are we eloping. I have left home and he is accompanying me to Venice where I will join my godmother. We are old friends, that is all. It makes it quite unexceptional for him to have spent the night in the chaise under the circumstances. Why, he might be my brother.’

It sounded to her own ears like a rehearsed explanation and Polly’s pursed lips indicated that she was less than convinced. ‘Of course, my lady.’ She gathered up the pillows. ‘I’m very discreet, my lady.’

‘I am glad to hear it. If you wish to become a lady’s maid on a permanent basis, then that is essential.’ Thea would not stoop to giving the girl money for silence, for that would convince her there really was something to hide, but the subtle hint that good behaviour might result in the privileged position of personal attendant being assured was probably just as effective.

She followed the maid out onto the deck, wrapped securely into the concealing folds of the cloak. Rhys was leaning against the main mast, hands clasped round a steaming mug, watching the coastline slip past. France, the next part of the adventure.

‘I didn’t realise there would be cliffs,’ Thea observed as she reached his side. Thankfully her voice sounded perfectly normal, although she suspected she was blushing. It was strange to have intimate knowledge of his body like that, even more disconcerting than the fact that he had caressed her breast.

‘They are not as high as at Dover. We’ll be in Dieppe soon.’ Rhys sounded perfectly normal, too. He could not have realised that she had been awake as long as she had, or perhaps men were completely blasé about that kind of thing.

But he had not been indifferent about that hectic moment on the quayside in Dover. A sharp pain made her realise that she was biting her lower lip. The only thing to be done was to seem entirely unconscious of any reaction on either of their parts, and Rhys would soon realise that she had no interest in him as anything but an old friend.

Polly brought her tea and she leaned on the other side of the mast, scanning the coast for anything particularly foreign and exotic. ‘It looks just like England,’ she complained as they swung into the harbour.

‘That doesn’t.’ Rhys nodded to a life-sized crucifix set up to dominate the quayside. ‘And look at the costumes. Do you think they are fishwives?’

‘They are exceptionally clean if they are,’ Thea observed as the crowd on the quay came into focus. ‘Not like Billingsgate at all!’ The women had tight-waisted bodices with vast skirts billowing out and finishing well above their white-stockinged ankles. They wore snow-white caps with flaps hanging down to their shoulders and, as the sails came down and the ship lost way, Thea could see the glint of gold in every ear.

‘So many soldiers,’ she added as they glided closer. The crowd was full of men in greatcoats, military-looking jackets, cocked hats—all studying the ship and its human cargo with sullen faces. Thea was suddenly very grateful that she was not attempting this journey by herself. They had been at war with these people for years and, it seemed, peace had not made much difference. ‘I thought the army would have been disbanded,’ she added, trying for a note of bright interest and not apprehension. She had fought down her fears about leaving home, but it had never occurred to her to worry about dangers beyond escaping the shores of England.

‘It has, by and large. Those aren’t soldiers, at least not anymore. These are just conscripts who have returned home. Look around, virtually everyone is wearing some piece of cast-off uniform, even some of the women. They’ve been at war for years, poor devils, and they probably don’t have much else.’

‘Is there a hotel we will go to?’ Thea saw jostling porters, lads with barrows, and tried to start thinking in French. It had never been her best subject, much to the disapproval of her governess.

‘Of course. It is all arranged. We will be met—in fact, that must be the agent there.’ Rhys raised a hand and a tall, thin man in a dark suit of clothes lifted his hat in acknowledgement.

The ship bumped alongside, almost level with the top of the quay. Ropes were thrown and tied, a ladder let down the few feet to the deck and Rhys went up, then reached out to help Thea, who twitched her veil into place.

‘Monsieur le comte!’ The man was pushing his way to their side.

‘No earls in France,’ Rhys observed to Thea. ‘With or without their heads. It appears I have become a count.’

‘François le Brun, at your service, monsieur le comte.’ He whipped his hat off again as he saw Thea. ‘And madame la comtesse! I had not expected the honour.’

‘Non, monsieur. Je suis...’

‘This is Madame Smith,’ Rhys said firmly in French that was considerably better than hers. ‘A family friend I am escorting to Paris.’

‘But of course!’ Le Brun’s hands fluttered in urgent signals to indicate his total willingness to oblige. He was desperate to please, Thea realised. The returning English must offer employment and hope after difficult times. ‘It is as monsieur le comte says. Another chamber will be no problem. I have taken the entire hôtel for the convenience of monsieur le comte.’

He clicked his fingers and half a dozen men lined up beside him. ‘These will unload your carriages. I have engaged two post boys and hired horses of the best quality.’ He grimaced. ‘At least, of the best quality that is available these days.

‘If you will follow me.’ He turned, apparently unconcerned by the fight that had broken out between porters over who would load their luggage onto whose barrows. Hodge, in French almost as good as his master’s, was laying down the law to some effect and Rhys did not appear concerned, so Thea took his arm and allowed herself to be led through the crowd.

‘They are staring,’ she muttered in English.

‘Of course. We are still a novelty and no doubt they are studying us for the latest in English fashions.’

‘Then they will be sadly disappointed in me,’ she retorted. ‘How long are we staying? I must buy one new gown at the very least. I cannot bear this drab old thing for much longer.’

‘It is fine, surely?’ Rhys glanced down at her skirts, protruding limply between the openings of her cloak.