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    Love And Joy
    Love And Joy
    Love And Joy
    Ebook131 pages1 hour

    Love And Joy

    By Virginia Henley

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Love And Joy is a novella set in Restoration England.
    Joy Ashley lost her ancestral home when Cromwell came to power, forcing her to take a position as a maid.
    When King Charles II regains the throne she mistakenly believes that Ashley Hall will be restored to her.
    When her dream is shattered, she becomes the governess of Lord Noel Huntingdon's precocious daughter. The little tyrant rules the roost and that's when the fun and games begin. Not only does she transform Amanda from a petulant child to a happy, loving hoyden, she teaches her new master a few things about "Love and Joy".
    This heartwarming story sweeps you back to 17th Century England. It moves from the magnificent estate of Lord Huntingdon, who is a personal friend of the king, to the glittering Whitehall Court of King Charles and his new bride, Queen Catherine.
    The playhouses in the City of London have been reopened and the people who had suffered repression are more than ready to indulge themselves in fun-loving, risque, entertaiments, and close their eyes to the loose morals of the Royal Court.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherVirginia Henley
    Release dateJul 15, 2011
    ISBN9781465932532
    Love And Joy

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      Book preview

      Love And Joy - Virginia Henley

      Love And Joy

      by Virginia Henley

      Original Copyright 1996 Virginia Henley

      Ebook copyright 2011 Virginia Henley

      Cover Copyright 2011 Marsha Canham

      Smashwords edition published July 2011

      First published by Dell Publishing, December 1996. All rights reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical without permission in writing from Virginia Henley.

      Chapter One

      Stop! Joy Ashley cried, fleeing across the big kitchen.

      "Don't you mean: Stop, my lord?" corrected the young man who'd had far too much to drink.

      Astonished, she blurted, You're not a noble of the realm!

      'Ods balls, Richard, there's insolence for you, drawled his friend Carlton. A scullery maid with the airs of a lady.

      I warrant a lady would be more forthcoming with her favors than this little baggage, Dick Humphries complained, cornering the maid once again.

      Leave me alone! she bade both young men in her sternest voice, knowing from experience it would do little good. They had come home for the weekend from the University, and had had more than their share of drink this night.

      "I only wish to share a little Joy with my friend, Richard said. Where's the harm in that?"

      Carlton St. Clare laughed at the witty word-play on the little wench's name and moved across the kitchen to aid his friend. And I want the same, to share Joy with Dick, he added lewdly.

      You're drunk and disgusting! Joy cried, spying her opportunity to push her employer's lecherous and spoiled son up against the hot kitchen oven.

      As she shoved him, he staggered back, more from drink than force, and though his knee breeches and heavily embroidered waistcoat protected him from the cast-iron oven, he did burn his hand slightly when he saved himself from falling. Little bitch! he hissed. It's time you learned to respect your betters.

      I may not be able to read or write, but that doesn't make you my better! A Cambridge education obviously hasn't turned you into a gentleman.

      Carlton roared with laughter. She's right, old man, you can't make a whistle of a pig's tail.

      Richard made another grab for her and as she tore away from his grasp, the cloth of her much-washed cotton dress ripped apart, revealing a pair of deliciously tempting breasts. A foul epithet dropped from his lips. He glared at his companion, demanding, Can't you help me?

      I'd rather help myself, Carlton drawled, suddenly realizing the little wench had a rare beauty.

      A plump figure immediately filled the kitchen doorway. For very shame, Master Richard! cried Bessie Bumble, the cook whose kitchen they were despoiling. The little maid has bin on her feet for fourteen hours. The last thing she needs is to fight off a ravishing!

      Shut your mouth and get back to bed, old woman, if you want to keep your job here. Dick Humphries' tone was so threatening, Bessie Bumble stepped back in alarm.

      The two gallants managed to corner the maid between the pantry and the Welsh dresser that boasted a collection of pewter Joy had polished to look like silver only this morning. Her breasts rose and fell as she panted with apprehension. All she could think of was the knife drawer, but it was forty feet away on the other side of the kitchen.

      When Dick Humphries' hands took hold of her breasts, as if they were peaches ripe for plucking, Joy dipped her head and fastened her teeth into his thumb.

      You shouldn't have done that, you little whore. With deliberation he tore what was left of her dress and petticoat from her trembling body.

      With a sob, Joy snatched off her mobcap and held it in front of her to cover her nakedness. The moment she did so, a mass of red-gold curls tumbled down about her shoulders.

      Glory of God, she looks like Botticelli's Venus rising from the waves, Carlton St. Clare said with appreciation. Since I'm your guest, Richard, 'tis only fitting I go first.

      Not bloody likely, but you can hold the little wildcat for me, then I'll return the favor, Dick said, fumbling with the front of his breeches.

      Bessie Bumble panted up the backstairs holding a shawl over her night rail with one hand and a fluttering candle with the other. She rat-a-tatted on the master bedchamber door, then tried to catch her breath.

      Presently, the mistress of the house, Hortense Humphries, opened the door and demanded, Whatever is it?

      Oh, ma'am, ye must come downs to the kitchen and put a stop to the shameful goings-on.

      "What is going on?" Hortense again demanded.

      It's Master Richard, ma'am, and that friend of his... they're foxed, ma'am, and making a shambles of my kitchen.

      How dare you? My son has never been intoxicated in his life!

      No, ma'am, Bessie said, but ye'd better come quick to put a stop to their fornication.

      Hortense's long face froze. Lewd language is forbidden at Humphrey House, Mrs. Bumble.

      It's lewd acts ye should be worried about, Bessie muttered under her breath.

      Hortense was about to ring for her ladies' maid, then decided to put on her dressing gown without help. You do realize it's after midnight? Hortense said darkly as she followed Bessie down the backstairs.

      The lamps still ablaze in the kitchen lit the room up to reveal to Mrs. Humphries exactly what was happening. One word from Hortense was enough to shrivel her son's rampant desire along with his cock. Richard!

      As the two young wastrels stepped away from the girl, their long waistcoats covered their private parts, but revealed Joy Ashley's nakedness in all its youthful glory.

      I am appalled to learn what has been going on in my own kitchen! Hortense Humphries' lips were stiff, her words stilted. Ashley, you are dismissed. I will not tolerate a strumpet on my staff. Collect your things and begone!

      Nay, ma'am, Bessie Bumble protested, 'ye cannot put the lass out on a London street in the middle of the night!"

      It seems to me the street is where she should be plying her trade. Oh, very well, I suppose I'm a soft-hearted fool. The girl may stay until morning. But she had better be gone by the time you cook breakfast or you may find yourself accompanying her.

      The male miscreants had slipped through the doorway unscathed, vanishing into the upper east wing before Hortense had even rendered her verdict. With one last disdainful glance at the servants, the mistress herself swept from the kitchen to return to her bedchamber.

      Bessie pulled off her shawl and wrapped it about Joy's shoulders. Are ye all right, love?

      Thank you, Mrs. Bumble, they had me cornered.

      Don't thank me, I managed to get ye sacked.

      Joy shuddered. It's not the first time and I don't suppose it will be the last.

      Yer shivering; go to bed, child. Ye'll catch yer death standing on this cold flagstone floor. We'll figure out something in the morning.

      The cook's room was off the kitchen and Joy's cubbyhole adjacent to it. As she lay in the darkness, she thought, Why am I always a victim? The answer of course was as plain as the nose on her face. She was a servant, a member of the underclass. She had been trained as a ladies' maid, but once the lady of the house discovered the fatal attraction Joy Ashley had on the male members of the family, be they husband or sons, she was either dismissed or relegated to the rank of scullery maid where her pretty face and figure were never again seen above-stairs.

      Joy had not been born into the servant class. Her father, Thomas Ashley, had been a captain in the king's army. They lived in a lovely manor house on two acres of land on the banks of the river Thames in the country outside London. Then Fate reared its ugly head in the form of Civil War.

      Her father was a king's man, known as a Cavalier. He was garrisoned at Oxford, only fifty miles from home, and they saw him frequently. His tales of the Roundheads kept Joy wide-eyed, but never afraid, for her handsome father was the strongest, bravest man in the world who would protect both her and the king from all harm.

      But on Joy's fifth birthday, January 30, 1649, the Parliamentary forces, bent on regicide, beheaded King Charles I. Her father along with the other Cavaliers rallied round the king's son, but were forced to flee the country as fugitives. Only a year later, Thomas Ashley was killed at the Battle of Dunbar in Scotland.

      Joy's pretty, laughing mother was devastated, but that was only the start of their misfortunes. Without her husband's pay, Mary could not feed and clothe them and keep up with the expenses of lovely Ashley Manor. So she rented it out and found a live-in job in service where she was allowed to keep her child.

      Joy didn't have many happy memories of that time. Her mother had taught her the alphabet, but now Mary worked such long hours, there was never time or energy to teach Joy her letters properly. Her pretty mother stopped laughing and Joy learned to be quiet as a mouse as she sat in a corner of the kitchen while her mother worked.

      In bed at night, Mary told Joy of her plans and dreams. By the end

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