Andrew and his friends talked among themselves in French and largely ignored Enid, except to turn to her occasionally and raise their glasses in leering toasts. Enid was overwhelmed with embarrassment and confusion; her most urgent impulse was to flee from the scene before her. But she did not know what sort of response this would elicit from her new husband. She was certain that, no matter how vicious his behavior, he would be firmly of the opinion that she should remain all through their wedding feast.
The sight of the massive male organ had at first aroused her slightly, but now she felt repulsed by the smirking young servants as they waited on her. With each passing moment she thought she was in the middle of a wild nightmare.
“To my wife!” Andrew slurred in English, and rose to offer her another toast. The other two joined in with drunken glee. The wig of the duchess was now slightly awry, and the grand dame looked more like a man than ever. The vicomte spent much of his time stroking the buttocks of the youthful male servants.
Enid saw the wine dribble down the front of her husband’s ruffled shirt as one of the serving boys placed yet another course in front of her. She jumped up from the table.
“You must excuse me!” she cried. “I have a dreadful headache!” She turned, and lifting her skirts slightly, ran from the room. Jeering laughter followed her exit and echoed in her ears as she raced through the corridors and up the endless stairways of the great gray stone chateau. When she reached her own room, she threw herself on the wide bed and sobbed with despair. She had not expected the wedding dinner to be a paragon of perfection, but she had not dreamed it would turn into an exhibitionist orgy.
After a little while she recovered somewhat and saw that her nightgown and robe had been carefully laid out on the bed. Slowly she began preparations for the arrival of Andrew. She bathed and perfumed her body and stood before the long mirror, inspecting herself critically. Could she match the beautiful women whom she had seen below in the dining hall?
As she gazed at her naked reflection she could not help but feel pride in her slender, curvaceous body. Her breasts were firm and uplifted, her long golden curls were repeated in miniature in the thick mound between her legs, and her hips and thighs flowed in a slim, provocative line. Surely she could offer Andrew enough to turn him from his promiscuous ways. With a sigh, she reached for her thin silk nightdress.
Before she could slip it on, the door to her room was thrown open and an irate and besotted Andrew staggered in. Seeing her naked, he sneered, “Were you in such a hurry for the bed, then?”
Holding the gown protectively before her, she replied, “It wasn’t that! I could no longer endure the dreadful things going on down there!”
“All that was for you!” Andrew gasped, swaying toward her. “Claude put on the show for you!”
“Then he needn’t have bothered!” she retorted bitterly.
Andrew moved toward her, taking off his jacket as he moved and throwing it on the stone floor. He seized her by the arms and tore the nightdress from her. Then he pressed her naked body to him and began kissing her on the mouth while his hands explored her roughly.
She tried to resist his violent attempts at lovemaking, but he had thrown her onto the bed and was feverishly undoing his breeches. His angry, sneering face loomed above her as he thrust his hard, erect member into her and began to pummel her insides. The direct attack brought such a sharp pain that she cried out repeatedly. Her moans only urged him on, and within a matter of minutes he had expended himself and withdrawn from her.
While he busied himself with buttoning his breeches, he said, “That fulfills my obligation, I trust. I hope you have not been disappointed.” With that he lurched away, managed to pick up his waistcoat, and left the chamber, slamming the door behind him.
Enid lay there, completely miserable and humiliated. She had never felt so abused in her entire life. She tried to summon a logical reason for his unforgivable treatment of her on their wedding night, but the best she could do was to come up with only a shadow of an explanation that excused Andrew in his state of disgusting drunkenness.
After a tormented sleep in which the naked young males of the dining salon flitted in and out of her dreams, Enid awakened to a sun-filled morning. She felt disgraced and very much alone. A maid brought her breakfast on a tray, but she could eat only a small portion. She dressed hastily in a new yellow cambric gown chosen for the honeymoon and went downstairs in search of her husband.
The first person she met was the young vicomte. He offered her a simpering smile. “I trust you enjoyed a pleasant wedding night?”
She did not reply directly but asked instead, “Where is my husband?”
“Andrew has gone out for a short while,” his friend said. “He will be back soon.”
“I see,” she replied tautly.
“He has many friends in Paris.”
“Really?”
“And he likes to gamble,” Claude added. “You will soon discover that.”
“I know it already,” she said in a quiet voice. “You have no knowledge of where he has gone?”
“None at all.” The effeminate nobleman appeared to be enjoying her plight. “The duchess has also left and sends her love to you.”
“How kind,” she responded in the same low tone.
His pale eyes held a mocking light as he went on. “You are annoyed at my party for you last night?”
She looked down at her slippers. “Let us say I did not understand it.”
“You will,” he assured her. “After you spend some time here, you will begin to understand the ways of my house.”
“I would hope that we would leave here shortly,” she countered bravely.
His fine-featured face registered surprise. “But why? I offer you my home as your own. You must feel free to use it as such.”
“Your offer is most generous, truly, but I feel it is unfair to begin married life under that kind of condition.”
The vicomte was amused. “But of course, you are still a little country girl. You would do well to broaden your outlook and become more a woman of the world.”
“I have no wish to change!”
“Andrew may have some ideas about that. I know he plans to remain here. There are so many things we both enjoy together. He likes the gaming table, and so do I. He has a fondness for beauty such as Paris offers, and so do I.”
“Was last night a sample of what you choose to call beauty?” Enid demanded.
“I suppose you could say that,” the vicomte replied, toying with a lace handkerchief.
“You are a single man entitled to your preferences. But Andrew has married me, and he must consider me in these matters.”
Her husband’s friend gave a small, brittle laugh. “I fear you know much less about Andrew than I.”
“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” she replied, and spun around angrily toward the stairs.
Enid remained in her room, seated by the window, until the late afternoon, when Andrew appeared. He was wearing a brown linen waistcoat and fawn breeches; his eyes were bloodshot and his face was bloated.
His opening remark was curt. “I understand you have been unpleasant with Claude.”
She rose from her chair. “That isn’t true. I told him I was unhappy here and that I wished to spend my honeymoon somewhere else.”
Andrew’s handsome face became mottled. “How dare you say such a thing when he has been so generous to us?”
“I do not care for his generosity,” she returned sharply. Then she gave her husband a pleading look. “If you love me, Andrew, take me away from here. I want to forget this place and the ugliness of last night. There is an unhealthy atmosphere here!”
He eyed her coldly. “I suppose, in the ugliness of last night, you wish to include my lovemaking.”
“If you care to call your rape of me by that name!” she flared.
He nodded as if he had expected this reply. “Let me put your mind at ease so that you may enjoy your sojourn here. I shall not inflict my crudeness on you again.”
Enid believed he was making an apology. She touched his arm and said in a more pleasant fashion, “I do not blame you. You were in a drunken state and suffering from the unfortunate influence of your friends. Another time it will be different, I’m sure.”
Andrew moved away and stood with his back to her. When he spoke again, his voice held a note of shocking finality. “There will be no other time.”
She stared at his back and gasped, “I’m not sure I understand.”
He turned to her, his weakly handsome face white and grim. “I know that you don’t, but it is better that you do. I propose that we be man and wife in name only. That we present a happy facade for the world but otherwise live as single people.”
“You are saying this because I protested about last night?”
“No. I’m saying it because it was my original intent. Only one as naive as yourself wouldn’t have guessed it long ago.”
“Our marriage is to be a charade?”
“If you wish to call it that.”
“But why?”
“Dammit, woman, must I be brutally frank? I married you for respectability, and it will be your duty to fulfill that task, and to give my name a proper tone. I do not ask for or expect an heir. I simply want you to serve me on public and social occasions, and in return I shall take care of your parents and keep you in the best of circumstances.”
She stared at him as the truth slowly dawned on her. “Our marriage is a sham—a kind of unpleasant joke!”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” he agreed.
“Your friends think so! That is why they staged that dreadful display last night!”
Andrew said wearily, “You are a most tiresome jade. Let me say it bluntly. Both Claude and I have a definite preference for young men. Do you understand me now?”
She shook her head, dazed by his brazen declaration. “I heard such gossip in London and closed my ears to it. I would not believe it!”
“That is why I have married you. Simply to put such rumors to rest. And for that you are ideal.”
“You scoundrel! I suppose you and the vicomte are lovers?”
“We are at times,” he admitted with a smile. “That shouldn’t shock you. He is a very pretty fellow, don’t you think?”
Tears brimmed in her sloe eyes. “I hate you! You are loathsome! I can never forgive you for degrading me!”
“Be grateful for our marriage agreement,” he sighed. “Your parents need worry no more. And you can become a great lady of London and the Continent.”
“A great lady whose husband despises and mocks her?”
“Not at all,” Andrew said, less hostile now that he had made his confession. “You are perfectly fine in your own way. I certainly could have chosen another young woman, but I was taken by you. And if you were a lad, you’d have no trouble keeping me faithful to you!”
“I suggest you married me because Lord Alfred Henson, even though ill and destitute, possesses a more honorable name than you do. You chose me carefully so there would be no scandal against us. My father’s name would ensure that his friends give at least a token respect to what they must know is an obscene marriage!”
“You are sharp,” he acknowledged. “I was aware of that on our first meeting.”
“How you must hate me to do this to me!”
“Don’t be tiresome, my dear. After I left you last night I joined the duchess in a round of Parisian night spots, and I’m very weary today.”
“Debauchery!”
He shrugged. “Call it that, if you like. And by the way, you were right—the duchess
is
a man.”
“A witness at our wedding!” she gasped with horror.
“I’m sure that makes it legal nonetheless,” Andrew told her. “He long ago assumed a feminine identity and a suitable name. So, you see, it takes all kinds to make up our world.”
Afraid she might faint, Enid closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. “Am I to understand that you refuse to take me away from here?” she asked.
“I will not leave here, but if you wish, I can have you moved to a hotel for the rest of the time we’re in Paris. I can visit and dine with you a few times for appearance sake.”
“You would dare suggest such a thing?”
“I’m only trying to make things as pleasant for you as I can under the circumstances. Really, Enid, I’m not a cad. I will always look out for you.”
“You are not a cad but a fiend!” she shot back.
“Whatever,” he said with a sigh. “Tell me, don’t you have a married friend who lives near Versailles? I believe you spoke of visiting her while we were here. You could do that on your own.”
Enid shuddered. “I would be ashamed to have Lucinda know what I have come to!”
“But she need not know! Surely you can be discreet.” Andrew warmed up to the idea. “Explain that I’m kept in Paris by a series of business problems and that you wished to see her for a few days.”
“I could not face her! How am I to face anyone?” Enid cried in despair.
“I’m certain you will accommodate yourself to the situation in time,” her new husband said, moving toward the door. “Since you probably don’t wish to come down for dinner, I shall have a tray sent up to you. I beg you to think about all we have discussed and to try to work out a sensible plan. If you choose to be foolish about yourself, at least think of your parents and their welfare.” With that, Andrew turned and left the room.
Enid was a proud, spirited girl who had bent herself to her husband’s rakehell behavior in order to win him over. But his blunt revelations left her with no hope. Only someone who had no intention of changing his ways would so openly flaunt his sexual proclivities.
She was beyond tears. Pride and anger replaced her former desolation. She went to the window and gazed out at the chestnut trees swaying slightly in the spring breezes. Andrew had been right about one thing at least. She had been incredibly naive to enter into this marriage. Now she was a partner in the charade from which she must somehow extricate herself as best she could. The major weakness in any line of battle she might evolve was her parents. They needed her husband’s financial support and had no conception of the depths of his perfidy. If they had known, they would never have allowed the marriage to take place.