Virginia Henley Read Online Free Page A

innate shrewdness proved more valuable than any silver spoon. At twelve he crewed on a merchant ship; at fifteen he owned it. At twenty he was rich enough and shrewd enough to seduce an earl’s daughter.
    The unholy alliance he had formed with William Montague a few years after his marriage was absolutely inspired. Montague’s brother was the Earl of Sandwich, a commissioner of the British Admiralty who was appointed first lord of the Admiralty during England’s war with America. For Shamus O’Toole it was like having a license to print money, and he built Kathleen the Palladian Georgian mansion Greystones. He made sure it was bigger and better than any the wealthy, aristocratic Anglo-Irish were building all over the Pale. When Sandwich became the vice-treasurer and receiver of revenue of Ireland, it was like manna from heaven. O’Toole, with the aid of Montague, had the County of Dublin in his well-lined pocket.
    *   *   *
         W hen William Montague opened the invitation to the celebration at Greystones his lips compressed with satisfaction. His high position in the Admiralty allowed him to control people, ships, and cargoes. Thanks to his partnership with O’Toole, he had grown wealthier than his titled brother, but Montague’s first love was power, not money. A feeling of omnipotence stirred his loins as he decided he’d wear his best uniform and sail his own Admiralty vessel into Dublin, loaded with arms intended for his country’s war with France.
    His mouth curved with carnal sensuality as he pictured the effect the invitation would have on Amber. What wouldn’t she do to be allowed to attend? His balls tightened pleasurably as he imagined her sexual inducements. He flung open his office door and bellowed, “Jack!”
    William had brought his nephew with him to the Liverpool Admiralty Office to act as his secretary, and the lad was proving himself indispensable. “Did you make inquiries about that brothel in Lime Street?”
    “I did, my lord.” A simple
sir
would have sufficed, for William Montague held no actual title, but Jack knew power was an aphrodisiac to his uncle. “They cater to special tastes, and have girls trained in obedience … Oriental,” he added, unable to hide his sudden erection.
    “Good lad!” William noticed the youth’s randy condition. “You may accompany me,” he said, throwing down his pen.
    Venery did not shock Jack Raymond. His father, the Earl of Sandwich, was a notorious profligate, nicknamed “Lord Lecher.” He was married to an Irish viscount’s daughter who had suffered so many miscarriages, she had become mentally unstable. When that happened, he moved his mistress, Martha Raymond, into his town mansion on Pall Mall and maintained a ménage à trois. Jack was one of five illegitimate children from that union and, fortunately for him,the only male. Though his future was probably secure, Jack suffered from the insecurity of bastardy and he would never be satisfied until he found a way to change his name to Montague.
    As the pair left the Admiralty building, William was in an expansive mood. “How would you like to accompany me to a celebration the O’Tooles are throwing next Sunday? I’ll be sailing the
Defense
to Dublin; you can act as my lieutenant.”
    “I would enjoy that, my lord. I’ve never experienced Ireland. What are they celebrating?”
    “Birthdays—O’Toole’s sons’.” Montague fell silent, his mouth turned down at the corners. He envied O’Toole his sons. He and Shamus had both wedded FitzGeralds, but all Amber had produced was a useless daughter and a sorry excuse for a son, who cowered when his father so much as looked at him. And while cowering was desirable in a female, in a male it was contemptible.
    “Will you be taking Emerald and John, sir?”
    Montague hadn’t considered it, but now that Jack made the suggestion, he realized it had merit. Having his children aboard would allay any suspicion regarding the cargo.