Bui divine had nothing to do with how Charlotte intended to spend her time in Sussex. The Mad Monks were meeting for their debauched revels, and she was to be a part of them.

The trip in Lina's well-sprung barouche had been almost too short. At Lina's suggestion she wore a bonnet that concealed most of her face, and kept her head down. Her height likely gave her away—there were few women quite as long-limbed as she was— but she had every intention of managing a crablike scuttle to appear shorter and more subservient. It was to be hoped that anyone who gave her a second glance would assume she was Lina's maid, because even amid full debauchery a lady still needed her personal attendant. Meggie had been brought along as well, and had anyone asked, the answer would have been that the Countess of Whitmore required her own hair dresser. In fact no one asked. Such concerns over propriety had been absent. By the time they were settled in the distressingly normal rooms at Hensley Court they had seen no one, not even their ailing host, and Charlotte's nervousness began to decline.

"It's very simple, darling," Lina said airily as they drank their afternoon tea, thoughtfully provided by Montague's excellent staff. 'The monk's robe will cover you completely, from the top of your head down to the very tips of your toes, and you're so tall everyone will assume you're a man. Just try not to hunch, dearest. Throw your shoulders back but keep your head bowed. You won't need to say a word—your vow of silence is evidenced by the brown color of your robe, and your watcher's status is signaled by the white trim on your sleeves. You may move freely around the grounds, though on no account go near the Portal of Venus. All rules are off there, but I'll point it out to you before I get... er...distracted. You can go anywhere else, unless a door is locked, but that's usually signaled by a gentleman's neckcloth attached to the outer door. As long as those remain the couple or group inside don't wish to be disturbed."

"Group?" Charlotte said faintly. What had started out as a lark was becoming far too real, and she wondered whether it was too late to change her mind, if she'd wanted to, that is.

“Sweetheart," Lina said patiently, "that's what an orgy is. Two people is simply sex, three 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 them 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 of the buttons she often struggled with, and the ugly thing tumbled to the floor.

"They do. Men find them exciting. Women do too, both the ones wearing them and the ones...er... enjoying the women who wear them."

"I still don't understand how that's possible," Charlotte said, not noticing as the maid began to unfasten her stays. "Nor do I understand how men..."

"With luck you'll get a thorough demonstration," Lina said, surveying her critically. "My dear, you have quite a lovely bosom. Why do you strap it down like that?"

Charlotte slapped her arms around her chest. "They get in the way," she said, disgruntled.

“Off with the hoops too, dearest. Those will give you away even more than your breasts."

"Could we please stop discussing my breasts?" Charlotte begged, her color fiery.

Lina hesitated. "My dear, I really don't think this is a wise idea. You're too innocent..."

If there was one thing Charlotte detested it was being told how innocent she was. She'd been half tempted to cry off, but she despised cowardice almost as much as she hated being thought an innocent girl. She was a woman, scientist, and there was nothing she need hide from in her quest for knowledge.

She wanted to know what men and women did. It was a perfectly reasonable curiosity on her part, with no chance for harm to befall her. The Mad Monks were poseurs, playing at vice. Her own biggest risk was a long night of boredom.

She slid off her demi-hoops, standing there in her plain white chemise, knickers, stockings and garters. 'This will do," she said firmly.

Lina shook her head. "No, love. Take the rest off. And if I were you I'd remove the stockings-they might impede you if you decided you wished to move swiftly.”

Charlotte looked at her, taking in the ominous words. "And why should that be?"

Lina shrugged. 'There are undoubtedly some tiresome people here, though they're mostly on their best behavior. I promise I'll be nearby, in case you run into a problem. But humor me. The black chemise and nothing else. You'll adore the sense of freedom it gives you."

Charlotte doubted that, but she did as she was told, divesting herself of every last piece of her own clothing. "Where's the robe?" she demanded nervously.

Meggie produced it, muttering darkly. She'd been against this from the beginning, but Charlotte had been adamant. The monk's robe was made of heavy brown cloth, doubtless far more elegant than traditional monk's garb, and she slipped it over her head, feeling it settle down around her body like a soft caress. She pulled the capacious hood up and breathed a sigh of relief. The sleeves were long enough to cover her delicate hands, her face disappeared into the shadows of the hood. She could do what she wanted with no real fear of discovery.

Lina came up to her with a strip of white cloth, tying it around her sleeve. "Mustn't forget this, darling. It's your safe passage."

Charlotte eyes it doubtfully. "What would happen if I lost it?"

Lina had an odd expression on her face, like a mother sending her child away to school for the first time. "Nothing very terrible. If you lost the riband and someone accosts you simply tell them no. They're honor bound to obey."

"Honor?" Meggie said with an indignant sniff.

"Of a sort," Lina said. She looked at Charlotte.

"Are you ready, my dear? It's not too late to change your mind. It's already getting dark, and once the sun sets we're due at the Abbey."