Christmas with the Duchess (6 page)

Lady Anne stared at her, shivering. “Octavia!” she protested weakly. “Y-y-ou cannot mean it.”

Octavia looked at her scornfully. “Oh, don’t be such a lily-liver, Mama,” she said.

From the window of her bedroom, Lady Harriet Fitzroy watched Lord Camford disappear into the Lime Walk with the Duchess of Warwick. Emma had donned a dark cloak for the excursion, but it was unmistakably she.

“Well, well,” Lady Harriet said aloud. “
That
did not take long.”

Smiling faintly, the old lady sipped her tea.

It was half-past two by the time Emma and Nicholas left the greenhouses. The afternoon was as fine as the morning had been, crisp and sunny. Apart from the occasional breeze, Emma had no real need for her cloak. Their bellies were full of raw fruit and vegetables.

“Shall we go on to the lake?” Emma asked him as they reached the heights of a small hill. “Or shall we go back to the house?”

Even from two miles away, the huge house dominated the landscape, cold and white as a sepulcher.

“I suppose we’d better go back,” Nicholas said reluctantly. “My aunt and uncle will be wondering about me. I’m supposed to have tea with them in the main drawing room.”

They had strolled out to the secession houses in a leisurely manner, keeping up a light conversation as they went, but as they started back the way they had come, Nicholas’s stride was brisk and purposeful. Emma had to struggle to keep up with him as they hurried past the old tennis courts.

“Do you know the game, Nicholas?” Emma asked, slowing him down. “I’m told it is beneficial exercise. I prefer badminton myself.”

“Badminton, ma’am?” he said, fidgeting.

Deliberately, she leaned against the stone wall of the tennis court. An expression of agony flitted across his face. “Are you late for an appointment?” she asked him coolly. “Or just eager to get away from me?”

“No, ma’am!” he said with reassuring violence. “You have been everything charming.”

“Then why are we running like jackrabbits?” she wanted to know.

Nicholas’s face slowly turned crimson.

“Oh,” Emma murmured, as the light dawned. “You need to answer a call of nature? Why didn’t you say so? You can go behind the hedge,” she told him kindly. “I’ll wait for you here. Go on.”

“I couldn’t,” he stammered. “What you must think of me!”

“I think you are flesh and blood,” she said, smiling. “Really, there’s no need to be embarrassed. Besides, what is the alternative?”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, running behind the hedge.

Emma lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes. She had not slept well the night before, and she was tired. She was physically drained, too, having walked more in that one day than she had in weeks. She wondered idly if it was too early in the relationship to ask the gentleman to carry her back to the house on his back.

Presently, she heard the rustle of branches as he came back to her, but her eyelids felt too heavy to open. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips.

“Mmmm,” Emma said lazily.

With both hands at her waist, he drew her close to him. He smelled pleasantly of a light scent, of tobacco, and horses.
How odd,
she thought, as his lips found hers,
that he should smell of horses when he doesn’t ride.

Her eyes popped open, looking directly into the pale green, oddly tilted eyes of Lord Ian Monteith. “Monty!” she gasped, throwing off his hands and shrinking back against the wall. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

“I love you, Emma,” Monty announced loudly. “I have come here to make love to you. I burn with desire for you. Take pity on me. I am your slave.”

“What?” she snarled under her breath. “What about my brother?”

Monty blinked at her. “It was his idea,” he explained, lowering his voice. “Do you see those officers over there? Don’t look, for God’s sake!” he cried, seizing Emma’s face. “They are watching us. So we’d better put on a nice show for them.”

“Go away,” said Emma. “Take your hands off of me.”

“Do you think I
want
to kiss you?” he said impatiently. “Is that it? Because I don’t. It’s only to avert suspicion.”

“This is not a good time, Monty,” Emma said crossly.

“What do you mean? It’s the perfect time.”

“I’m busy.”

“No, you’re not.”

Lunging forward, he pinned her struggling body to the wall with his own. “Let’s make love,” he shouted, battering her face with loud, clumsy kisses. “Don’t be shy. Give yourself to me, angel! We’re completely and utterly alone.”

“Not quite,” said Nicholas, tapping him hard on the shoulder.

Startled, Monty whirled around, his nose connecting nicely with Nicholas’s fist. The Scotsman went down, bright red blood spraying from between his fingers as he clutched his nose. A group of officers came running up. Two of them grabbed Nicholas while a third helped Monty to his feet. “You broke my nose,” Monty complained.

“If you liked your nose, you should not have insulted this lady,” Nicholas answered, struggling to get free. “Apologize at once, or prepare to meet me on the field of honor.”

The officers scoffed. “This is Lord Ian Monteith,” one of them said. “He isn’t going to fight a nobody like you.”

“Is that so?” said Nicholas. “Well, I am Lord…I am Lord…Damn it! I’ve forgotten the name of the bloody place.”

“He is Lord Camford,” Emma said clearly. “Now take your hands off of him before I call the servants.”

“And who are you, pretty?” one of the officers demanded, but he was instantly silenced by one of his companions.

“It is the duchess,” the man whispered. “I have seen her portrait in London, in the National Gallery. It is she.”

Nicholas was released. “Apologize,” he said, glaring at Monty.

Monty now had his handkerchief pressed over his nose. “I beg your pardon, Lord Camford,” he groaned.

“Not to me, you fool! To the lady.”

“I am sorry, your grace. I was run away by my feelings.”

Nicholas took Emma’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “He doesn’t sound very sincere,” he said, scowling. “I think I’d better shoot him.”

“Please, my lord!” Monty cried. “I am contrite! I will never speak to the lady again. I swear it.”

Emma pressed her face against Nicholas’s coat. “Please don’t shoot him, my lord. I abhor violence. Will you be good enough to take me back to the house? Suddenly, I am cold.”

“Of course,” said Nicholas. As he led her away, he glanced back at the officers. “Get that man out of here before any of the ladies see him,” he snapped.

“Yes, my lord,” they said. “Thank you, my lord.”

Nicholas hardly heard their obsequious replies. “You’re shaking,” he said gently, rubbing Emma’s gloved hand between his own. “Are you all right?”

“I think so,” she said. “You won’t leave me alone, will you?”

“Not for an instant,” he assured her.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Nicholas. You’re not going to start milording me now, are you?” he complained.

“I might,” she said, smiling up at him. “I just might. You were very heroic.”

“Heroic? No,” he said. She could tell that he was pleased.

“Indeed, you were,” she insisted. “I’m afraid to think what would have happened if you hadn’t been there,” she added mendaciously, covering her face with her hands. “That man—”

“I will not let him hurt you, Emma,” he murmured, taking her in his arms. “He will never go near you again.”

“I feel so safe with you, Nicholas,” she said softly, lifting her face to be kissed.

“You
are
safe with me, Emma,” he told her very seriously.

To her disappointment, he meant it.

Lord Hugh Fitzroy entered his wife’s sitting room at precisely half-past four. Anne and her brood were already assembled there, dressed to go down to the main drawing room for tea.

“Good afternoon, Papa,” the young ladies chorused.

“Well?” he said. “What progress has been made with Cousin Nicholas?”

“What progress could there be?” cried Lady Anne. “We have not seen him today.”

Lord Hugh flew into a rage. “What do you mean you have not seen him today?”

“Harriet had him last,” Lady Anne said, desperate to avoid his wrath. “Ask your sister where he is.”

He looked amazed. “Ask my sister—! Am I to understand you have not seen your nephew since
last night?
What in God’s name have you been doing with your time?”

“I have had the headache,” Lady Anne whimpered.

“The headache! I will give you the headache, madam wife!”

“I wrote him a love letter, Papa,” Flavia said quickly.

“Well, I am glad
someone
is thinking of the main chance,” said Lord Hugh.

“It was my idea, Papa,” Cornelia shrieked. “Flavia stole it from me.”

“I am wearing my blue muslin,” Julia pointed out. “It is very low cut, and I am not tucking lace.”

“We can see that for ourselves,” Cornelia sneered. “Your chest appears to have exploded.”

Julia preened. “They are called bosoms,” she informed them. “They are Out, even if I am not.”

“Papa,” Octavia said sternly, “tell your youngest daughter she cannot go to tea looking like that.”

“It is not my fault that I have a chest and my sisters do not,” Julia argued.

Lord Hugh took out his pocket watch and looked at it impatiently. “I need not remind you idiotic females that time is
not
on our side. One of you must be engaged to him by Twelfth Night. If he makes it to London, some scheming adventuress will be sure to trap him. And then, what will become of us? When he comes of age, we’ll be nothing more to him than poor relations! He can turn us all out into the snow if he likes.”

“I know, Husband,” Lady Anne whispered.

“Then why have you been idle all day?” he snapped.

“I thought he was with you!” she cried.

Lord Hugh scowled at her. “With me? Why should he be with me? He is
your
nephew. I have been playing cards with General Bellamy.”

“Oh, dear,” Lady Anne said foolishly. “I hope you did not lose very much, Husband.”

The veins bulged in Lord Hugh’s forehead. “What does it matter if I did?” he demanded. “I have ten thousand pounds coming to me.”

Lady Anne clapped her hands together. “Husband! That is excellent news. Why, that is two thousand pounds for each of our girls. They shall have dowries.”

“Two thousand pounds is no fitting dowry for a Fitzroy,” Lord Hugh sniffed. “I should be ashamed to offer such a paltry sum to a gentleman. I would rather they find husbands who will take them for nothing.”

“We shall have to, at this rate,” Octavia said dryly.

Lord Hugh spun around to glare at her. Unmoved by his bullying, Octavia gazed back at him with chilly politeness. “You
did
say, Papa, that you would take Cousin Nicholas on a tour of the house,” she reminded him. “We all thought he was with you.”

“Indeed, we did, Husband. For no one knows the palace as well as you do.”

“True,” he said, somewhat mollified by his wife’s flattery. “I daresay, Nicholas has made some friends among the officers. I daresay we will find him in the drawing room.”

Julia jumped to her feet. “I’m so hungry I could eat the whole croquenbouche.”

The door opened and Lady Susan sailed into the room. “Well, here’s a to-do!” she said, her small eyes glinting. “Lord Camford and Lord Ian Monteith have been fighting—I should say
brawling
—in a most unsavory contest for the favors of a certain…er-hum!…lady.”

Lady Anne jumped to her feet. “Oh, no! Was my nephew very badly injured?”

“He had to be carried back to the house,” Lady Susan said ominously, freely embroidering on the truth.

Lady Anne fell back in her chair. Lord Hugh shook his fist at her. “This would not have happened, madam, if you had taken better care of him.”

Julia was confused. “But I do not know Lord Ian Monteith,” she said. “Why should he be fighting for my favors? He must have seen me in the window as I was dressing.”

“It is the duchess, I mean,” Lady Susan said irritably. “The Whore of Babylon herself!”

“But Nicholas doesn’t even know the duchess!”

“You should have been more careful with him,” Lord Hugh accused his wife. “The harlot will turn his head, and he will never think of marrying any of the girls.”

Lady Anne clutched her chest. “Oh, Husband! Surely she would not marry him herself?”

“She’s far too old for him,” Julia sniffed.

Lord Hugh looked at his wife with contempt. “Marry him! And give up her dower portion? Not bloody likely! That’s twenty thousand pounds a year she gets from the estate. Would
you
give that up? Of course you wouldn’t, you imbecile.”

Lady Anne crumpled before his contempt.

“In any case, the boy is still a minor. He cannot marry without my permission, not until he comes of age. I’m not likely to let him marry
her,
am I? But she may very well
distract
him.”

“You mean
seduce
him!” Julia whispered eagerly.

“Oh, dear! We should not have let him out of our sight, Husband,” Lady Anne wailed.

“
We,
madam?” he said coldly. “Are you suggesting that
I
follow your nephew about like a Bow Street Runner? That is
your
duty, madam, and you have failed.”

Octavia’s voice cut through the air. “Is Cousin Nicholas badly hurt, Aunt Bellamy? Has the surgeon seen him?”

Lady Susan took her time answering. “He will live,” she said finally. “But I understand it was very near thing, very near. He was unconscious for several hours.”

“But why did no one tell us?” cried Lady Anne.

“I’ve only just heard of it myself from Mrs. Camperdine,” said Lady Susan.

“Well, don’t just sit there like a bunch of wallflowers,” Lord Hugh shouted, turning on his wife and daughters. “Go to him quickly before he recovers. He will be in a vulnerable state. Nurse him back to health, and he may reward one of you with his hand in marriage. Hurry! Must I think of everything?”