The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 298: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ELE LL ALL LOLOL 784 of that bright red fire,—in an atmosphere flooded with the serenely mellowed light, and filled with a delicious fragrance,—she seemed resolved as it were to abandon herself wholly to the pleasure of the present moment in order that she might the more deeply luxuriate in the enjoyments that were soon to come. Thus were her passions gradually exciting themselves and her desires being worked up to the highest degree, not only by the scope which she allowed her imagination to take and the bliss in which she permitted her fancy to run riot, but also by the surrounding influences of the scene. At length, when she was becoming absolutely impatient of delay and wondering wherefore Sir Douglas Huntingdon came not, a gentle tap at the door reached her ear and thrilled like a galvanic flood of ecstacy through her entire frame. She rose —she unlocked the door—and then she flew back to the sofa, a sudden but momentary feeling of shame seizing her at the idea of appearing in that semi-nude condition in the presence of one to whose embraces she was as yet a stranger. She heard him enter—close the door—then lock it again with strictest caution; and a moment afterwards he was by her side, snatching her in his arms and covering her with caresses. But, heavens! what words can depict the surprise—the amazement— nay, even the consternation which seized upon her, when instead of being strained to the breast of Sir Douglas Huntingdon, she found herself in the arms of the Earl of Curzon! But at the same instant—yes, atthe very same moment that she made this discovery—did the truth flash to her comprehension. She must have given the wrong letter to the Earl! ‘There could be no doubt about it: it was the only way to account for the present occurence—and moreover, it was an ac- cident that after all might so easily have happened, secing that neither note was addressed to any parti- cular individual. Thanks to that consternation which thus seized upon Venetia at the moment she found herself clasped in the arms of the Earl of Curzon, she gave vent to no cry—no ejaculation: and her pre- sence of mind instantaneously returning, her resolve was taken almost as soon as the discovery of the misadventure itself was made. This resolve was to resign herself to circumstances! Refusal would be impossible as well as ridiculous in respect to a man who not onJy had her at this instant in his power, but who doubless could also produce the letter in pursuance of which he had come thither. Besides which, the ardent kisses that Curzon lavished upon her, speedily renewed those sensuous feelings which she had herself been irritating by her imagination and fostering by her fancy: and thus was it that in a very few moments the Earl became the object of all those desires with which the image of the Ba- ronet had inspired her! * ¥ * * * * x * * * * It was between eight and nine o’clock in the | morning that the Earl of Curzon stole forth from OE ST Venetia’s boudoir and crept back to the chamber which had been allotted to himself. To say that he was happy were to say nothing: his countenance was radiant with triumph! Pecuniary embarrass- ments—troubles for the present—anxieties for the future—and the dark suspicion that still rankled in ———— eee THE MYSTERIES OF TITE COURT. —— een emt aaa his mind relative to his own wife,—all, all, were forgotten—all utterly lost sight of—all absorbed as it were in the one grand ecstatic reflection that Ve- netia—the incomparable Venetia—had abandoned herself to his arms. But how strange—how passing strange was this consummation—this sort of realization of the pledge which he had made two months back when he stood in her presence at Acacia Cottage! He had then said, “ I have sworn to possess you, and I will keep my vow. Be you guarded by all the angels of heaven, I will invoke all the devils of hell to succour me in carrying out my resolve!” But without violence—without craft—without the suc- cour of any of those infernal powers which he had threatened to enlist in his service, he had obtained the object of his wishes. It was scarcely a triumph: no—it was not a triumph, because there was no preliminary resistance offered. He had been in- vited to take possession of the citadel at a moment when he had not been dreaming of making warfare against it; and it had surrendered not merely at discretion, but willingly, cheerfully, joyfully ! Such were the Earl’s thoughts on regaining the chamber which had been assigned to him. But perhaps his vanity would have been somewhat shocked, although his sensuous satisfaction might not have been less, had some little bird whispered in his ear the secret that it was purely and simply through a mistake he had been blessed with Vene- tia’s love that night! Immediately after the Earl of Curzon had stolen forth from the boudoir, Lady Sackville rose from the couch of illicit pleasure and rang the bell. Jessica speedily made her appearance; and the business of the toilette then commenced. Still bent upon retaining that empire which she had already gained, over the mind of Sir Douglas Huntingdon, Venetia took considerable pains with herself in order to set off her charms to the greatest advantage. She ordered Jessica to allow her hair to fall in long flowing masses over her shoulders and down her back ;—and she chose adress which, fitting close to her shape, developed its noble con- tours in their luxuriant fulness and their rounded plumpness. Nor did Jessica, who loved her mis- tress and was proud of her,—more than ever proud of her, indeed, since she had become a peeress and also the favourite of the Prince Regent, — Je» sica, we say, did not fail to lavish her usual praises, encomia, and compliments upon Venetia’s charms. * Assuredly your ladyship has the finest hair I ever saw,” observed the abigail. “Here it is a shining mass of gold where the light falls upon it. | —there it is of a glossy velvet darkness where the shade remains. If your ladyship were a queen, this glorious hair would render a crown needless. And your ladyship’s neck—it is of dazzling white- ness—arching so gracefully too. Permit me to arrange the body of vour ladyship’s dress. There! now it exhibits the fine slope of the shoulders: | how ravishing a picture to the eyes of a male admirer! Pardon me, my lady, for venturing the observation—bat your bust is the grandest—the finest—the most superb that ever woman pos- sessed. There is but one lady I ever saw who can at all compare with your ladyship in this re- spect ——” | ‘“And who is that?” asked Venetia, with a smile } en teal oe eee ae > —~ JOOKS:/EO