or more is an orgy. But don't worry—there are any numbers of members who much prefer an audience for their activities. I promise you you're more likely to be able to observe an orgy than to be invited to participate
"You relieve my mind," Charlotte said in a hollow
Lina surveyed her. She was dressed in a nun's habit, albeit one made of silk and tailored to her exact dimensions. She hadn't yet taken on the headdress, and with her curly black hair and bright eyes she looked like a very wicked young religieuse indeed.
"If you've changed your mind, as I'm beginning to think you should, there's no disgrace. I can have John Coachman drive you home, with no one the wiser, or you can stay in these rooms and enjoy Montague's impressive hospitality. He has the finest chefs. And while a few of the guests return here for respite during the revels, the majority of Ihem stay at the abbey, which has been fully remodeled for this purpose, so you'd be unlikely to run into any of them. And one would need a boat to get to and fro, which discourages people from coming back. You could be quite peaceful..."
'I’m coming with you," Charlotte said firmly. "Brother Charles, at your service."
Lina shook her head. "Whatever you want, my dear. I am convinced that the only harm you'll suffer is to your innocent sensibilities, but not one will touch you. If they do, all you have to do is scream very loudly."
"Wouldn't that gather too much attention? I'm not supposed to be female, am I? I'm not wearing a nun's habit like you."
' Oh, a great many women enjoy the freedom of a monk's robe. Trust me, if you're not careful the Mad Monks will know the difference from the way you walk."
"I can walk like a man," Charlotte protested.
"Indeed, my sweet, you cannot. You have the most delicious sway to your hips, something I've been trying to emulate. To you it comes naturally—I'm very jealous. It's a good thing you refuse to dance.
If society saw the way you walk I'm afraid you'd no longer be able to disappear into the wallpaper.
Men would be flocking to you." Her voice was wry.
"I don't want men to flock to me," Charlotte protested. "I'm quite happy keeping you company. If you find my presence tiresome I can always..."
"Now you're being tiresome," Lina said lazily. "You're my cousin and the sister of my heart, the only human being I trust. And you have yet to pass judgment on me, when clearly you're dying to make me realize the error of my profligate ways. I want you with me as long as you can stand it."
"And if you marry again? I doubt your husband would want me along."
"I have no intention of marrying again," Lina said shortly, her voice oddly hollow. She seemed to be looking into the past, at something extremely unpleasant, and Charlotte had a strong suspicion what she found so troubling.
And then Lina shook herself, laughing. "And if I'm fool enough to change my mind you're to beat me soundly until I come to my sense,” She rose, reaching for the starched headdress, and a moment later turned for Charlotte to admire.
"I don't know that the lip rouge works," she said dryly.
"It's part of the plan. You need to take off those clothes. They stand out under the monk's robe." She started toward her, and Charlotte slapped her arms around her body, hugging it tight.
"Don't be ridiculous." She was not about to give up anything without a struggle.
"Most of the women wear absolutely nothing beneath their costumes, Charlotte. It's a warm spring night and those clothes can be smothering, particularly since you're covering your head."
"The only time I'm naked is in the bath, and if it were up to me I'd wear clothes there, too," Charlotte said sturdily.
'Tiresome girl." Lina said fondly. "Meggie, bring out the black gown. That will at least cover you without being indecent."
Charlotte looked at the wisp of black silk draped in Meggie's capable hands. "No."
"The only way people will believe you're a man is if you dispense with stays. Trust me, you won't believe how freeing a simple chemise feels. No one's going to be looking beneath your robe. If you want you can keep your garters and stockings on. Many women do, even when they're making love."
'They do?” she said, fascinated in spite of herself. Lina's maid began to divest her of her ugly dress, making quick work