ROMANTIC VENTURE

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Maurette had never seen such a bedchamber. At one end of the immense, high-ceilinged room a rosy fire blazed in a splendid fireplace carved of white marble. Soft pink variegations rippled here and there through the exquisite iridescent stone. Upon the mantel were two massive gold candelabra. The glow of the polished metal rivaled that of the purling fire that warmed and lit the room with rose-gold shadows. Tall lighted candles brushed the walls with their soft auras. Maurette gazed around at the richly appointed furnishings.

A huge bed stood at the wall opposite to the hearth. Its pale pink velvet hangings, opened on one end to the fire, were fringed in gold silk as were the rose-colored velvet chairs dotting the room. Before the fire, and in deference to more modern tastes, the rushes had been removed and a pink and gold Persian carpet laid. At its center was a low marble table of the same pristine white as the fire-place, flanked on either side by two small pink velvet settees also fringed in gold silk. The two tall window embrasures were hung with pale rose velvet.

Maurette, though used to great wealth, was agape at the pushiness of the exquisite chamber. She moved to the center and turned herself fully around to appreciate its splendor The walls were hung with delicately woven tapestries, and on every table lovely objets of art could be admired. Small porcelain vases were filled with fresh autumn foliage, and pretty statuettes of dazzling marble were placed with care. A tall chest of gleaming dark wood stood between the two windows. Inspecting its contents, Maurette found her gowns and other possessions had been stored there. She was amazed that the task had been accomplished so quickly.

She turned to find her new tiring girl standing shyly just inside the chamber door. She had been dressed in a perky muslin gown, and her hair had been neatly replaited.

"Hope the chamber suits y'," she said with a very proper curtsy.

"It does," said Maurette, smiling.

"'Twas the old lord's, m'um. Him 'n his lady shared it. Me'n Jonny 'n Ruth cleaned it up for y', m'um. An' me 'n Jonny 'n Ruth put y'r things away, too."

Maurette move to the girl. "I am amazed at your efficiency. May I know your name? And who are your remarkable assistants?"

"My name is Kitty, m'um," the girl said, bobbing another curtsy.

"What a pretty name," said Maurette.

"An' Ruth is-well, just Ruth. She does the laundry. An' Jonny is really Jonathan." The girl giggled. "Me 'n Ruth calls him Jonny just to get his goat. He puffs 'imself up whenever we do 'n sticks his skinny nose in the air and looks so funny."

Maurette smiled. She took the girl's chin in her hand.

"Well, dear Kit," she said, "Jonathan seems to have made a great sacrifice where you are concerned. The household has lost a most treasured servant, methinks."

Kitty lowered her soft brown eyes. "Oh, m'um, I'm no treasure." She lifted her gaze to look adoringly up at Maurette. "Thank y', m'um, for separafin' me like y' done. 'Tis an honor, it is, especially wi' me bein' a bastard an' all."

Maurette arched her lovely brows.

"Kitty," she said admonishingly, "I will not hear such things from you. Such things are not spoken in polite company."

Kitty lowered her eyes in shame. "F'rgive me, m'um," she said through tears that threatened to come blubbering out.

Maurette closed her eyes. There was much to teach this child, she thought wearily. But as she opened her eyes and gazed at her, she decided that 'twould be well worth the effort in the end.. Maurette had seen the spark of intelligence in the girl's bright face. What she lacked was formal training, and Maurette determined her mission would be to see that Kitty became the most mannerly and efficient tiring woman the world had ever known. She smiled kindly at the child.

"Would you help me out of my traveling clothes, Kit?"

Kitty smiled broadly, and her shame of a moment ago was a thing of the past. "Oh, m'um," she said brighdy, "'twould be an honor."

Maurette determined she must never ween Kitty from that charming spontaneity of aspect. In the midst of her teachings, she must ever be aware that the child's sweet personality must remain intact.

"To serve one's mistress is an honor, Kit," Maurette said gently, but 'tis also a job in which one must take great pride."

"Yes, m'um," said Kitty soberly.

Maurette noted the girl's chastened attitude. Kitty would be a very quick study, she decided. She led her in the ways of preparing a bath for her mistress.

Kitty watched in delighted apprehension as Maurette emerged from the warm scented water with her pale skin still attached to her body. "'Tis said by some 0' the ladies that too much water will wear away the skin," said the child with youthful glee at the gory idea.

Maurette laughed. "Water is good for us, Kit," she said. "It will never wear your skin away." She showed Kitty how to pat her dry. Placing large linen squares in the girl's hands, she guided them up and down her own body, And Maurette continued her lesson on water.

"'Tis a myth, Kitty. that I have heard, but I have been bathing all my life, and my skin is still connected to my bones. Water cleans and refreshes one. We must bathe often and well, and we must soap our hair and then rinse it till it squeaks," Maurette said patiently, as the girl nodded at each instruction. Maurette then took her through the next task, that of placing the undergarments on the body in the correct order.

The girl echoed Maurette's own distaste with the corset but squealed in delight as she carefully handled the laces and silks with which she was being taught to adorn her mistress. The child was learning very quickly. She was a most willing student, and Maurette was relieved to note that she had not made a mistake in choosing her.

Next, Maurette taught Kitty the intricacies of dressing hair. She happily realized that her pupil was probably the recipient of some previous training.

"Me'n Ruth sit for hours of an evenin', we do, an' fix each other's hair," said Kitty in response to Maurette's inquiry. The girl twisted and stretched Maurette's amplitude of golden-red waves with an authority that both astonished and pleased her.

"Kitty," she breathed when the girl had finished an intricate coif. "'Tis lovely." Pearls were wound through the shimmering upsweep of Maurette's hair. She turned from side to side to inspect the work. "You are a wonder," she said.

Kitty dimpled prettily. In her starched and perky gown, her hair brushed to a crackle and her face and hands washed, Kitty looked a very respectable tiring woman. Maurette decided that she would enjoy teaching the girl all manner of enterprising ways in which to make her work easier and more enjoyable. Perhaps, Maurette reflected, she would even teach the child to read.

Taking Kitty's hand in hers, she led her to the wardrobe. "We must choose a gown now, Kit."

Kitty was overawed by the opulence of the gowns, and Maurette encouraged her to handle the rich silks and the heavy brocades and the plush velvets. "You unpacked them, Kit, and now you must choose one for me to wear. Remember that you have just wound pearls in my hair, however, and do not choose that which is adorned with other gems."

Kitty nodded, and her wide brown eyes were deeply serious as she inspected the contents of the massive chest. She bit at her lower lip and glanced at Maurette and then back to the gowns before selecting one. Her eyes brightened when she saw Maurette's smile.

"'Tis perfection itself," Maurette approved. The gown was a pale swirl of lavender and blue brocade. Blue cording piped the deeply cut bodice and the points of the long slender sleeves. Tiny pearls were sewn into the standing collar of deep blue lace. Maurette stepped into the gown with Kitty's assistance and then surveyed her reflected image in the cheval glass. "Will I impress them, Kit?". she said with a note of uncertainty.

Kitty smiled and bobbed her head brightly. The girl understood instinctively that one of her functions would be to earn Maurette's confidence. Fortunately, she thought wistfully, gazing at her new mistress, to make this lady aware of her beauty and grace would be no problem.

Maurette entered the withdrawing room where Lydia and Dominic awaited her as a prelude to the evening meal. Ben and Geoffrey joined them soon after-Geoffrey heading straight for the side table arrayed with light refreshments and pitchers of wine and Ben advancing to the hearth. Geoffs usual banter was bright and welcome in what Maurette perceived to be a rather dour household.

While the others chatted, Maurette studied the chamber. She was impressed with the architecture and once again disturbed by the armorial insignia that threatened from the hearth wall. Deliberately, she turned her eyes from the austere and steady silver gaze of Donnnic's raven and perused the other elements that made up the room.

Noting with profound disdain the filth that she saw everywhere, she concluded that it was the result of a total lack of caring on the part of the staff. She eyed Lydia over her cup of warm cider and wondered why the chatelaine had not mobilized the servants into some sort of action against this pervasive enemy. Maurette's own chamber was immaculate, and she intended to expect that it was kept that way, but she wondered at the layer of grime she discovered here. She wondered too at Dominic's forbearance of Lydia's slovenly housekeeping. She watched the two of them now as they sat talking quietly together on the small settee near the fire.

Dominic laughed softly at something Lydia had whispered into his ear. His eyes became solemn at another proffered bit of information. He took his sister's big hand in his and patted it at still another. For her part, Lydia seemed as intimately engrossed in their communion as Dominic. It was, Maurette noted, not only their size and physical similarities that betrayed their strong sibling relationship, but also their communication that seemed as close as any a brother and sister had ever had. Maurette, while not jealous, felt a vague sense of isolation. Recognizing a kinship between Lydia and Dominic that she realized she would never share, Maurette decided that she would make an effort to come to know Lydia. There was undoubtedly great good in a woman who inspired such admiration in a man like Dominic Warbrooke.

"You were correct, Lydia," said Geoffrey, bursting into Maurette's musings. "I was unable to find the whereabouts of my lady, Alys. "TWould seem she has disappeared off the edge of the earth, though Isabella's young explorer has attempted to convince us that there is, in truth, no edge."

Ben glanced up from his huddled stance at the hearth. "'Twas nearly a hundred years past, Geoff, that Master Columbus made his discovery and, may I add, he was not young but well into his fifties at the time."

Geoffrey nodded amiably. "I thank you for the history lesson," he said and continued in his jovial fashion. "I have, 'twill please you all to hear, found a darling to replace my missing lady. Her name is Jane." Smiling triumphantly,. he continued. "She is without a doubt the most beauteous of the beauteous. She is fair of face and form, to be sure, and she is of a gentle nature. And," he added, pausing significantly, assuring himself of his company's complete attention, "she is untried." He looked at each person, awaiting their reaction. Maurette giggled into a lacy handkerchief. Lydia and Dominic regarded him with dubious smiles.

Ben adjusted himself purposefully so that he could look straight into Geoffrey's foolish smile of self-satisfaction. "There are few such," he said levelly, "and liars all are they that lie."

Geoffrey's thick eyebrows came together. "The fair Jane would not lie, Ben," he said with ingenuous sincerity.

"Would she not," said Ben dryly. "Then you had better lie with another."

Everyone laughed, Lydia in spite of herself for she was not given to burst of emotion of any sort. Just at that moment Jonathan appeared to announce dinner. He had not encountered such geniality in the household for a long time, not, in truth, since Dominic's last visit with Ben and Geoffery, and his bemusement was clear in his rheumy old eyes. The amiable sparring between the two young men continued into the family dining hall with Geoffrey still trying to make sense of his erudite friend's needling puns.

Two servants, Henry and Gwynn, supervised the serving of the food. They received generous and well-deserved praise for their roasted game birds dressed with a creamy sauce.

"You have outdone yourselves," Lydia approved. "'Tis all in honor of Dominic's homecoming," she said, raising a toast. "And, naturally, to welcome dear Maurette to our table."

"Hear, hear," Geoffrey expounded.

"To Maurette," said Lydia, looking directly into Maurette's eyes. "May she come to love her new home and that it signifies." The challenge in Lydia's voice was apparently not perceived by the others as they clinked glasses and approved the toast, but Maurette felt sure that there was more in Lydia's toast than a mere pleasantry.

Although Geoffrey's ribald humor kept the tone of the evening light, Maurette could not ignore Lydia's humorless gray gaze. It seemed to be upon her whenever she chanced a glance in Lydia's direction, and Maurette was both bewildered and annoyed at the perusal.

When the meal was over and the men were deep in conversation, Maurette remarked on Lydia's unrelenting attention. "'Twould seem that I am something of a curiosity to you Lydia," she said with a more boldness that she felt.

Lydia smiled her thin smile. "I am captivated by the brightness of your eyes and the radiance of your skin."

"Thank you," Maurette murmured, unsatisfied.

"I pray that aura will not be dimmed by loneliness and routine."

"But I shall hardly be lonely," Maurette said, startled. "Dominic will be here."

"Ah, yes," said Lydia with what Maurette perceived to be a sneer. "A man is the age-old chaser away of lonely specters. But," she added, "a well-run household requires the attention of its master, does it not?"

"Yes," answered Maurette haltingly for she did not understand the direction of Lydia's conversation.

"Dominic will have many duties here, and often those duties will call him away. You understand that, I pray."

"Of course."

"There are the estates," Lydia sighed. "These peasants are necessary though often demanding. Each tenant has his own little problems with which the master of the household must deal. And then there are financial and legal matters involved in the proper maintenance of an estate the size of Ravenshead."

Maurette's eyes widened. "How have you managed it on your own, Lydia?" She blurted.

"I sometimes wonder that myself," Lydia said with a forced weariness. "But, in truth, all of this is no concern to you."

"But it is, Lydia. I will, of course, be interested in all of Dominic's affairs."

"Oh, I shouldn't think it necessary for you to concern yourself with the drudgery of Dominic's household concerns. He wouldn't want that." The last was said with a harshness that gave Maurette pause. She sensed a hostility in Lydia and could not imagine what she had done to incur it.

"I…should think that Dominic would welcome…my interest," Maurette said staunchly but with reticence.

Lydia's eyes hooded, and she eyed Maurette obliquely. "Dominic will welcome your presence in his bed and your ignorance of his affairs, dear Maurette. He has never welcomed the attentions of a nosy woman."

Maurette was abashed. Lydia's words intimated that Dominic had brought other women here. Perhaps under the same conditions, that has predisposed Maurette's own presence. " 'Tis only that I thought to share his life." She said softly and lowered her eyes.

"Dominic's life," stated Lydia tranquilly, "is none of your concern." Tucking an errant wisp of hair into her upswept coif, Lydia leaned back into her chair. "Won't you have more wine, dear Maurette?"

Maurette shook her head. She raised her gaze slowly. "I am not ordinarily given to female rivalries, Lydia," she began slowly, "but as you have set the tone of our relationship and have made your own judgement as to whether or not intimacy will thrive between us, I tell you this. I am not to be taken as lightly as you have imagined me to be. I shall not engage you in petty quarrels; not shall I follow your example and snipe you verbally. I do not wish to make you an enemy. Perhaps, for the time that I am here, we should avoid each other's company." Maurette rose and drew away from the table. "I wish to retire," she said in a heightened tone.

The men, engaged at the other end of the table in deep conversation, looked up at her announcement. Dominic smiled.

"Of course, you are tired, little one. Will you see Maurette up, Lydia?" Dominic said.

Lydia nodded curtly and began to rise, but noting the sly, slanting gaze the older woman gave Maurette, Geoffrey rose, too.

"May I have that honor?" he said easily. At Dominic's guarded glance, Geoffrey laughed and roughly patted his captain's shoulder/ "Take your ease, my friend," he said, pushing himself from the table. "I have told you that I am otherwise occupied. Allow me, my lady," he said genially as he offered Maurette his arm. He suffered the heated flow of Lydia's hostility and moved to the staircase.

When they had reached Maurette's chamber door, Geoffrey stopped and turned her to him. "Tell me why you look so sad, Maurette," he said gently.

" 'Tis nothing, Geoff," Maurette murmured. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and she blinked and looked away. Geoffrey raised her chin with a roughened fingertip.

"She was not very cordial tonight, was she?" he said, smiling tenderly. " 'Tis that very aspect for which Ben disdains her company."

"Why, Geoff? What have I done?"

He shook his big head slowly. "No one really knows about Lydia. In one instant, she is your most protective friend, and in the next, she is a dark rival. Neither Ben nor I can figure her out.

"Dominic obviously adores her," Maurette said in a small voice.

"And he adores you," Geoffrey said easily. Do not fret that. You are not without friends here, Maurette." He pushed open the chamber door.

Kitty was waiting up for Maurette, and she gazed with awe at the big handsome Geoffrey as he led Maurette inside. He smiled at Kitty and astonished her with a roguish wink, and then he was gone.

Kitty sighed, "He has been devilish well favored," she said.

Maurette shot a glance at the girl. "You are but a child, Kit, and too young to notice such things."

"I am nearly sixteen," said Kitty pridefully as she helped Maurette out of her gown.

Maurette moved to the girl and held her face up in the firelight. She brushed at the fringe of hair that hung over the child's forehead. Could it be that the child she had thought Kitty to be was, in truth, a very pretty young woman?

Grasping the girl's hand, Maurette pulled her toward the cheval glass. Unbraiding and brushing out Kitty's bounty of soft brown waves gave further evidence to Maurette that she had been mistaken in her original assessment. She turned Kitty slowly and studied her reflection carefully. Then, with uncontained joy, Maurette pulled the girl toward her in an exultant embrace.

"But this is wonderful, Kit," she said joyfully. The puzzled girl dutifully returned the embrace.

" 'Tis wonderful that I am nearly sixteen, m'um?"

"It is," said Maurette, drawing away from the girl and twirling her around the chamber. "Tomorrow we will get your friend Ruth up here and see what we can do with one or two of my gowns. We shall make you into the young woman you deserve to be, Kit." The two embraced once again.

After a bemused Kitty had tucked her mistress into bed and snuffed the candles, she left the room to go to her own chamber and dream of some exorbitant and totally unexpected excitement that had to do with her being nearly sixteen.

Maurette snuggled under her bed covers and watched the fire, framed by the soft velvet hangings at the end of her bed. She could make no sense of Lydia's hostility nor of her implication that Dominic had shared his home with others like Maurette. Whatever jealousy she felt of those others was soon overtaken by sleepiness. The fire crackled softly, and the rose-shadowed room was at peace as was the mistress of the chamber.

Very slowly the shadows deepened and changed. I her dreamy half-sleep, light and darkness became one. Rose-colored specters danced wraithlike in the golden firelight, only to disappear into an ebon void. Soft soothing sounds emerged into her consciousness, and then silence enveloped her. The scrape of a door was sensed, the hiss and crackle of flames at a passing presence, the faint whisper of flesh against cloth. Maurette felt the warmth of a caress, the moistness of a breath, the unsubstantial, illusory firmness and yielding of flesh upon flesh. Impressions flew around her sleeping form, ebbing and fading as she found herself in Dominic's embrace.

Reaching, she entwined her arms around his neck, and her lips were taken and given in demanding kisses. Her woman's body ached for the union of their souls. The silky gown she wore was lifted above her head and discarded, and she felt the warm riot of her hair envelop her shoulders. Together the two beings, man and woman, explored each other-touching, caressing, embracing.

Fully awakened to the splendor of his love, Maurette felt herself caressed by Dominic's firm commanding lips, held sweetly captive in the embrace of his strong arms, and touched to her very soul by his overpowering hunger. She offered him own hunger- her woman's hunger. Arching to him in abandoned arousal, Maurette opened herself to his golden, life-giving essence. He filled her with the force of his need, the flaming turbulence of his desire. She offered to him the sweetness and urgency and wonder of her passion. Together they probed the height breadth of their banquet of rapture.

They luxuriated long in the ripeness of their ardor. Dominic's large hands stroked and caressed Maurette's awakened flesh, an she languidly partook of the pleasures of his warm, hard body. Before the dawn they had tasted of each other's nectar many times, savoring the fragrances and flavor of their consummate passion. The throbbing rose-gold darkness embraced them even as they embraced and explored the silken treasures of their love. Warmed by the perfection of their union, fired by the star-shatter of discovery, they burst finally with dazzling, gilded shivers upon the summit of sweet enchantment. Then, as they sank into the lambent glow of blissful contentment, they welcomed the night flower of their love. It closed around them, and they nestled into luxurious slumber of repletion.