The King`s Commission

'The only important thing about our wretched English society is to be discreet, and one may do anything one wants,' Betty Hillwood said with a sneer. 'And if one has money, then no one will even utter one peep of remonstrance. You won't hear sermons preached against anyone like me, as long as I give to the alms box and pay the Poor's Rate on time. One only gets exposed when one goes broke.'

'Or gets too careless?' Alan finished for her, taking a sip of wine from an offered glass.

'Exactly, though I hardly have to tell you that, Alan dearest. You're discreet in your visits to me, I trust.'

'Completely,' he assured her. The last thing he needed was for anyone to know that he was courting Lucy Beauman and rogering Betty Hillwood at the same time.

'Who knows, you may even wish to return to England with me.'

'Eh?'

'After the war, when the seas are safe, I'll go back to London where I may live in a proper style,' Betty prophesied, downing her gin and pouring another. 'You shall be on half-pay by then, and as you say, London will not have gotten any cheaper. My husband can stay here and rot for all I care… he's probably peppered to his eyebrows with the pox by now, anyway. You would have servants, fine clothes, anything your heart could ask. And you would have me. And I could have you, every night and day. We could live together, or apart, but only a bit apart. I would want you to spear me and split me until I scream for sheer joy.'

Now what do you say, fool? Alan thought, trying to plaster his most disarming smile on his face as he pondered this new development. She may be a good ride, but I'm damned if I want a steady diet of Hillwood mutton. And I'm not so poverty-stricken I need to be supported. Tis flatterin', I'll grant, but she's a little long in the tooth for more than a few hours.

'You must know, Betty, that I've been up to the Beauman place quite often.' He temporized, trying to be honest without hurting her feelings. 'Their daughter Lucy and I… well, nothing's been said one way or the other, but eventually, I would wish to settle down and wed… somebody, wouldn't I? And where would that leave you? I mean,' he added with a sudden burst of inspiration, 'it takes an Act of Parliament to get a divorce, and your husband could maybe stand going his own way, but no man wants to be known as an outright cuckold. Why risk his anger and your reputation going for more than we have now?'

'He's been cuckold since 72!' Betty declared, exasperated with his sudden cold feet. 'Not, I'll grant, by anyone that could even approach your talent at it, dearest. And as for the Beaumans… that pack of 'Chaw-Bacons'! For all their airs, they've not been long off the hay-wagon, with the manners of stable-hands. Oh, they're rich, I'll allow, and you see security with that little chit, do you? Well, let me tell you, she's not been pining away for you to sail back into her life. No party is complete without her, and her pack of admirers just slavering for a grope at her, and she's not exactly been shy at being groped at, I'll wager.'

'Now hold on!' Alan grunted, not wanting to hear anything bad about Lucy. He was indeed fond of her, money aside, and the last time Mrs. Hillwood had given him the dirt on someone, Lieutenant Kenyon for instance, one of his grandest illusions had been shattered. He would hear no smear on Lucy's character. 'You may dislike the whole family. And frankly, they are a bit rough around the edges, I'll admit, but that's no reason to slander her.'

'Oh, poor dear Alan,' Betty muttered cynically. 'Do you think you're the only buck pawing the ground she's walked on? She's young, beautiful and ungodly rich into the bargain. But could she ever give you half the pleasure I've given you just this day? Or would she most likely be so shy and inexperienced a jaded rogue like you would scare the breath out of her? Though where she gets her purity is beyond me.'

'What do you mean, damnit?'

'Peace, my love. I speak of the Beaumans, of course. Father off with a girl he keeps… in one of my apartments, I might add.'

'Really?' Alan blurted, sitting back on his heels at some really lively gossip.

'Hugh, the eldest son,' Betty smirked, swaying her hips seductively as she came back to the bed and stretched out near him, 'he's right fond of 'fancies,' he is.'

'Fancies,' Alan stated; he'd heard the term before back in the Carolinas with the Chiswick family, but hadn't known what it meant.

'Very pale, very elegant-looking Samboes. House-servant quality, half white or almost white. You've seen them around town.' She chuckled, swinging her glass back and forth, without spilling a drop. 'Hugh can't get enough of them. Over on Portland Bight, where they have one of their sugar plantations, Hugh keeps a stable of them; not in the house except when Anne and the children are in town, though. I believe Mrs. Beauman is the only one that doesn't know about her own men-folk, but I could be wrong. But then, many women suffer in silence for the sake of the children, or their security. Unlike me.'

'Well, stap me,' Alan said, amazed at the ways of the world, though he should have known better by then. 'The whole damned family?'

'Mrs. Beauman, no,' Betty sighed. 'She really is a sweet thing, but not too observant of most goings-on. Anne, Hugh's wife… well, I think she's aware of it, but as long as she doesn't have to be enceinte over and over, I doubt she minds that much. No woman wishes to have a child a year and never have another hope of anything else until her womb shrivels. There was the most delicious doings two years ago, my dear!'

Betty snuggled closer to impart her intimate information.

'Do tell,' Alan replied, leaning closer.

'During the slave revolt, all the women-folk came into Kingston for safety, while the men were off with the militia and the troops.' Betty snickered in glee. 'And there was this one glorious young officer from the garrison, a captain, who took a particular fancy for the handsome Anne Beauman. As far as decorum allowed, they were inseparable.'

'And did you rent him rooms, too?' Alan mocked.

'No, but it was powerful wondrous how often Anne had to go out to shop, and never found anything worth buying, and how often young Captain Mclntyre was away from his quarters. A friend of mine, Mrs. Howard, the frumpy one you met? Well, servants may come and go with no notice, and she set her maid to watch, and it appears that Captain Mclntyre would enter certain lodgings every day, and soon after, the lovely Anne Beauman would enter those same lodgings and stay for three or four hours at a stretch. Then they would leave separately, she first, and him about a quarter-hour later.'

'So what happened?'

'Ah, the estimable young captain was carried off by the Yellow Fever after he went back into the field, and Mistress Anne was seen no more about Kingston for about a year, off to Portland Bight, no matter that the slaves were still in revolt. 'Twas said Hugh came back in a furious choler and dragged her off.'

'Damme, that's amazing. I'd have never thought her capable.'

'When disappointed or crossed, anyone is capable, Alan dear,' she told him condescendingly. 'Not only capable, but eager and willing to do almost anything to get their own back.'

He succeeded in getting the subject changed to one she liked a whole lot better, which did not require words, avoiding any more speculation on her offer as well. And once she took on a larger cargo of Holland gin than was good for her trim, he could leave her snoring it off. He sponged down once more, dressed and headed out, and the servant girl slipped back in the door as he slipped out, still as silent as the Sphinx. Down the steps to the courtyard with its fountain, fish pond and flower beds off which all the lodgings opened, then out the double iron gate to the bright street, which shimmered in heat.

He stood there a moment, almost sneezing at the change from a fairly cool, thick-walled building, to the sharp warmth of late afternoon.

I'm going to break this off, he decided. Good as Betty Hillwood wanted to be to him, and as wanton a ride as she was, her proposition was nothing he wanted to be part of. While he did not consider himself one of God's innocents, Betty Hillwood could make him feel like a gawking choir-boy with her sour, jaded outlook on the world, and he wasn't sure he was ready to share her state of mind.

'I mean, damme, pleasure's fine, but my God!' he groused as he began to stroll off, trying to stick to the shadows where the sun did not strike with such ferocity. I've never heard a good word pass her lips 'bout anyone or anything, have I?

He had just finished four straight hours with a woman who would fulfill his every desire, and he should have been skipping and laughing with delight at his good fortune. She had given him a chain and fob worth an easy fifty or sixty guineas, but he had little joy from it.