The Irish Witch Read online

  The girl had auburn hair and fine blue eyes. Her name was Susan, and she was Roger Brook’s daughter. She had been presented at Court the previous season and was just over seventeen.

  Her companion was Charles, Earl of St. Ermins. He had inherited the tall figure and dark good looks of his ancestor, King Charles II, and was some six months older than the girl. His mother was Georgina, now, by a later marriage, Duchess of Kew.

  Georgina and Roger had been life-long lovers; but, as a secret agent, he had spent much the greater part of the past twenty years abroad. In consequence, as Roger’s wife Amanda had died when giving birth to Susan, Georgina had played the part of a mother to her. She had shared a nursery with little Charles and they had been brought up as brother and sister, sharing every joy, anxiety, distress and naughty prank.

  Both had long held the opinion that neither could be equalled by any contemporary of the other sex and, at the age of twelve, they had secretly and solemnly become engaged. Neither of them had ever referred since to the matter, but both took it for granted that in due course they would marry and, after greeting Susan in her bedroom that morning, Charles had given her, if not a lover’s kiss, something very near it.

  That night Georgina was giving a New Year’s Eve ball for them. For a few minutes they talked of a new dress that Susan meant to wear, then Charles said, a shade nervously:

  ‘M’dear. I hate to break it to you, but you will have to choose another partner for the supper dance tonight.’

  Susan’s blue eyes opened wide and she exclaimed, ‘What mean you? I fail to understand. We always have the supper dance together.’

  ‘I know it and am much distressed.’

  ‘Oh, come, Charles! We agreed long since that both of us should amuse ourselves with such flirts as we wished. And you’ve made no secret of it that your latest is that Irish wench, Lady Luggala’s daughter—what is her name?—yes, Jemima. Surely you do not intend to break our custom on her account?’

  ‘No, no!’ He shook his head. ‘I find Jemima most amusing company, for she is witty and no prude. But I’d not cut a supper dance with you for any woman. ’Tis that after we have seen the New Year in I have another party that I have promised to attend.’

  Susan frowned. ‘A party of what kind?’

  ‘It is with friends I made whilst in London during the autumn. It is a very special occasion for them, otherwise I would not desert you.’

  ‘Dam’me, I don’t believe you.’ Her voice rose angrily. ‘Naught but a woman could induce you to throw me over in this way.’

  ‘Nay, you are wrong in that. There will be women there, of course, but no-one to whom I am especially attracted. It is, in fact, just a club that provides unusual diversions in which I have become interested.’

  ‘A club indeed! What sort of club? Charles, be honest. Is it that, now we are again in London, you mean to explore the pleasures of a brothel?’

  He bridled. ‘No. This is no brothel. Though had I no prospect of relieving the emotions you arouse in me with some attractive woman, I’d not hesitate to go to one. Anyone of my age needs such an outlet from time to time. I told you last summer how I had first achieved man’s estate with Mama’s maid Harriet, and before she married our coachman last month enjoyed her a number of times. I told you, too, how I paid a midnight visit to Lady Wessex’s bedroom while she was staying with us at Stillwaters over Christmas. In neither case did you show any undue perturbation, so why question my actions now?’

  This was true enough. Susan had accepted the canons of her day and age that, from their late teens men were entitled to seek sexual satisfaction where they would, whereas girls of good family were required to remain chaste until they married. Then, if it was a love match, a wife could expect her husband to remain faithful to her, at least for a few years. Later perhaps both might seek pastures new, but in all other ways remain loyal to each other. Knowing that she aroused Charles’s desires, she had felt it would be unreasonable to object to his satisfying his physical passions with other women; but only with the proviso that she retained his love.

  And now that was the crux of the matter. For Charles to be slipping away from a ball given in his own house seemed to her a certain indication that he had started an affair with some woman, and had become so enamoured that he could not bring himself to refuse her demand to celebrate the New Year by sleeping with her. To probe the matter further, she asked:

  ‘This club you speak of, with its unusual diversions. What form do they take?’

  ‘That I cannot tell you,’ he replied. ‘I have been sworn to secrecy.’

  Tears started to her eyes. ‘Charles, you’re lying to cover up an intrigue. Are we now, after all these years, to start having secrets from each other?’

  ‘That is the last thing I would wish,’ he protested, then tried to take her hand. But she snatched it from him.

  Hesitantly he said, ‘I pray you bear with me in this. Although I am bound to secrecy about what takes place, I can at least give you some idea of the type of gathering I mean to attend. Have you ever heard of the Hell Fire Club?’

  She nodded. ‘I’ve heard vague talk of it. Back in the last century, statesmen and other prominent men used to meet on an island up the Thames. There was a ruined abbey there, in which they performed strange rites and copulated with women whom they imported for that purpose.’

  ‘You are right. And it is to a revival of the Hell Fire Club that I belong. I find the secrets of the occult that are disclosed to me there most fascinating.’

  ‘And, no doubt, the woman you are taking with you.’

  ‘I am taking no-one. We draw lots for the women who are to partner us in the rituals.’

  Forcing back her tears, Susan cried angrily, ‘Charles, I do not believe you! For you to have bedded pretty Harriet and Lady Wessex was no shame. But to pleasure any slut that is thrust upon you is a very different matter. I do not believe that you would so demean yourself. All this is a tissue of lies designed to cover the fact that you love me no longer and have become besotted by some woman who insists that you sleep with her tonight. Very well then, do so. But what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.’

  Charles came to his feet with a jerk and stared down at her in horror. ‘Susan! Susan, you cannot possibly mean.…’

  ‘Why not?’ she retorted sharply. ‘Surely you are aware that on reaching their teens girls are subject to the same urges as young men? Since I came out last season, half a dozen handsome beaux have implored me to give them a rendezvous. For your sake I have kept my virginity, but I’ll admit that their petting has oft excited me. Why should I now deny myself the delights which several of my young married friends unashamedly extol?’

  ‘But, Susan! You are a girl of good family. How can you possibly contemplate lowering yourself by taking a lover?’

  ‘Lowering myself, fiddlesticks! What of your Mama? Other mothers are oft stupid enough to keep their daughters in ignorance of such matters, but from the time I started to become a woman she has always talked to me frankly about the mating of the sexes. All the town knows that, whenever he is in England, my father is her lover; and, despite her marriages, has been for many years. Once when I pressed her, she confided to me that he first had her when they were both no more than fifteen.’

  ‘I know it, for it was a revelation that you in turn confided to me. But, as you are well aware, my mother has gipsy blood, so she is an exception to the rule.’

  ‘Rule be damned! Well-born girls are no less passionate than those of the lower orders. Why should we suppress our desires? Go, have your new love if you will tonight, but in future, should I feel inclined I too will indulge myself with any man who takes my fancy.’

  Charles was appalled. He argued vehemently, and pleaded with her to change her mind, but in vain. At length, as she remained adamant, he said:

  ‘Since you have now revealed to me that you crave physical love, why should we not get married this coming Spring?’

  She shook
her auburn curls. ‘I would like to, but I am convinced that we should rue it later.’

  ‘Why so?’

  ‘Because, Charles, you are still too young. I will now admit that the thought of your embracing Harriet with some frequency and then that older woman, pained me sorely, but I had good reason to conceal my feelings. Among other things your mother told me was that a wedding night can prove an unpleasant experience for the bride if she be still a virgin and, should the husband be a virgin too, the night may prove a disaster for them both. On the other hand, the more experienced the man, the sooner he will bring his bride to reciprocate his pleasure. You can as yet be only an amateur at this game, and must learn much from going to bed with a variety of women. I am resigned to that, and prepared to wait.’

  ‘You are wrong about me, Susan. Harriet had had half a dozen lovers before me, so taught me much. And with Maria Wessex I did it no fewer than five times in a night. She complimented me upon having become as able a gallant as any woman could desire. That is proof that I’ve had experience enough. Now will you marry me?’

  Again Susan shook her head. ‘No, for there is another reason why I will not. I have always accounted fools girls who marry at sixteen or seventeen. By burdening themselves with the cares of a household and bearing children when so young, they deprive themselves of what should be some of the most pleasant years of their lives. I’ve long decided that nineteen, or eighteen at the earliest, is the age at which a girl should marry. I intend to enjoy at least one more London season free of all responsibility.’

  Charles thoughtfully stroked his black side whiskers for a few moments. He had never allowed himself to take a liberty with Susan; but, now she had suddenly disclosed to him that her flesh and blood were just as warm as his own, he looked at her with new eyes. A trifle hesitantly he said:

  ‘I’ll agree there’s sense in what you say about not saddling yourself for another year or two with the duties of a wife. But now that you have told me you feel an urge to take a lover, can we not come to a new arrangement? I would gladly give up the Hell Fire Club and vow absolute fidelity to you if you, for your part, would make me that most fortunate of men.’

  She smiled at him. ‘I’ve oft thought on that, and what bliss I would experience in your arms. But, alas, dear Charles, it cannot be. For one thing I could not bring myself to deceive your dear mother by having a hole-in-the-corner affair with you. For another it would spoil for us the joyous anticipation of becoming man and wife and of your possessing me for the first time as your bride. ’Tis better by far that you should get out of your system the craving I am convinced you have for some woman with whom you intend to sleep tonight, then amuse yourself with others for the next year or two. And that, while you are doing so, I should follow my own inclinations.’

  He scowled. ‘God dam’me! The thought of you being possessed by some other man would drive me crazy.’

  ‘Charles, you are being foolish and making a mountain out of a molehill. Surely you must realise that love and passion are two entirely different things? The fact that you have become irresistibly attracted to some other woman does not mean that you love me, in the true meaning of the word, any the less. And, should I give myself to another man, that will not lessen in the least my enduring love for you. For both of us it will mean no more than the enjoyment of a delicious fruit, or the joy of outriding a companion whom one believed to be better mounted than oneself—a most pleasurable experience at the time, but forgotten in a week.’

  Reluctantly he nodded. ‘’Tis an argument difficult to refute. I’ll admit that since Harriet left us to marry, I have hardly given her a thought.’

  ‘It will prove so, too, with your present infatuation and with other women whose bodies attract you for a while. Such physical contacts are of no real moment in one’s life. What matters is the unity of minds, and that we have. The years we have spent together have forged between us an indestructible bond. ’Tis that, not casual fornication, that constitutes true love.’

  He continued to frown. ‘About the difference between love and passion you are unquestionably right. You are right, too, in maintaining that physically a girl of breeding must be subject to the same urges as a low-born wench. But, for the most part, the latter give themselves while still unmarried, either from lack of principles instilled when young, or to escape from poverty. You can plead neither excuse and, I repeat, the thought of you playing the wanton is positive torture to me.’

  Susan shrugged. ‘Do I decide to do so, you will have brought it on yourself. About you sowing your wild oats I make no complaint; but for you to have become a slave to some other woman—that I will not tolerate.’

  ‘Dam’me! There is no other woman!’

  ‘Prove it then by not leaving the house tonight.’

  For a long moment Charles considered, then he said, ‘No. This meeting is of great importance to me. Should I not attend it, I’d forfeit my membership of the club.’

  ‘Go to it then, or rather her. And in future I’ll do as I list. Now leave me, for I am overlate in beginning to make my toilette.’

  ‘As you wish. But should I hear your name coupled with that of a gallant, I’ll call him out and kill him.’ Pale with anger, Charles turned away.

  4

  The New Hell Fire Club

  Susan’s revelation about her maturity gave Charles good cause for feeling both miserable and apprehensive. The Duke of Kew was his mother’s fifth husband, and he had learnt from Harriet that, apart from her life-long affair with Roger his mother had taken many other lovers during the long periods Roger had been out of England. So, with his passionate half-gipsy blood on one side and that from the Merry Monarch on the other, he had accepted it as natural that his thoughts turned frequently to satisfying his amorous inclinations.

  That auburn-haired Susan shared his disquieting cravings had never occurred to him. But thinking it over, he recalled what pretty Harriet had told him about Roger and his mother. She had a gift for painting and owned a studio out on the hill above Kensington village; but she used it also as a petite maison in which to spend nights of love-making with Roger. Both of them trusted Harriet and never bothered to stop talking when she was within earshot. Several times she had heard snatches of conversation when Roger was gaily describing affairs he had had while on the Continent. Harriet had concluded from this that he was ‘the very devil with the women’. Should that be so, it could well account for his daughter Susan also being hot-blooded.

  It was now clear to Charles beyond all doubt that he and Susan shared the same outlook about uninhibited immorality; but, while he had never questioned his own inclinations, he found it hard to reconcile himself to her giving free rein to hers. Even so, since she refused to marry him for at least a year, or become his mistress, he saw that he had no option but to accept her declaration that ‘what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander’. No other course being open to him, he decided that he could only pray that she would not, after all, allow one of her beaux to seduce her; and, hard as it might be, do his utmost to put such a possibility out of his mind by keeping it occupied with his own diversions.

  He had not lied to her when he had declared that he had not become temporarily bewitched by some other woman, and that it was a meeting of the re-created Hell Fire Club to which he was going that night.

  For several generations past the occult had provided one of the principal interests of a large part of high society, in all the capitals of Europe. Such men as the Comte de St. German—who asserted that he possessed the secret of the Elixir of Life—Cagliostro and Casanova, had all intrigued many royalties and wealthy members of the nobility by holding seances and performing mystical rites. Where trickery ended and the application of unrecognised scientific laws began, no-one could say but, shortly before the French Revolution, Dr. Anton Mesmer had undoubtedly effected many cures by means of his magic tub.

  In the previous October Charles had been in London for a week, to be measured and fitted by his tai
lor for some new clothes. It was then that a friend of his had introduced him at the revived Hell Fire Club. On that first visit he had been allowed only to witness the opening of a fascinating occult ceremony, and had his fortune told by a lovely woman who played the rôle of High Priestess.

  Having then eagerly expressed his wish to be made a member, in mid-November he had thought of an excuse to go again to London, and had been duly initiated, the ceremony ending by his possessing the beautiful priestess-witch.

  His lovely initiator then told him that he was now entitled to attend any of the meetings which were held once a week, and that there were five when attendance was obligatory: New Year’s Eve, Lammas in February, May Day’s Eve, Beltane in August and All Hallow’s Eve. Failure to be present, unless a valid excuse could be given, meant expulsion from the club.

  Charles had replied that he might have to remain in the country until after Christmas, but he would greatly look forward to New Year’s Eve. He had not known then that his mother intended to give a ball that night. Her first mention of it, a few days later, had greatly perturbed him; but the knowledge that he would be debarred from the club for good if he did not attend the New Year ceremony had determined him to do so, even at the cost of upsetting Susan.

  In consequence, at the ball he booked no dances for after midnight and, having drunk the usual toasts, slipped away unobserved to collect his cloak, then left the house by the back door which gave on to a mews.

  It had been raining hard, but now the rain had lessened to a drizzle. He had his own coach, which his mother had given him as a seventeenth birthday present, and earlier in the day he had ordered it to be waiting for him in Bruton Street. It was standing near the mews entrance, and some thirty feet beyond it stood another coach with a man and woman nearby.

  By the light of the flambeaux in the sconces fixed to the railings on either side of the front door of the house opposite, Charles saw the man hand the woman into the coach. As he did so the light glinted on the auburn ringlets that dangled from beneath a scarf his companion was wearing over her head. Instantly Charles realised that she was Susan.