Island of the Swans (83 page)

“Not a farthing more than we agreed upon, do you understand?” he growled. “Not for Kinrara, and not for here!”

“Of course,” Jane replied with icy control. “I realize full well you must save your pennies to pay for the passel of
bastards
you’ll be fathering by that bloodsucking wench of yours!”

She yanked her arm out of his grip and fled the chamber, clutching the papers to her breast.

Lady Madelina Gordon was duly married to Sir Robert Sinclair in a small ceremony on the second of April. Jane and Alex hardly spoke, which, accordingly, cast a pall over the event.

In early May, the Duke and Duchess of Gordon and their children made a command appearance at a lavish dinner given in honor of the king’s recovery by Sir Simpson Gideon, a wealthy M.P. This time, Jane severely doubted she could go through with another evening pretending to be the dutiful, affectionate duchess she had once been.

Fortunately, in view of Alex’s refusal to increase her allowance, Jane could wear her Windsor court dress of blue, scarlet and white. Like the other ladies, she had a bandeau around her head imprinted with the words God Save the King. Still, it was against her better judgment that she consented to go.

As the gala evening progressed, Jane took satisfaction in being asked to dance by nearly every gallant in the room. Even the king himself, acknowledging publicly all she had done for his cause, led her to the floor for a lively strathspey.

“You dance with uncommon agility,” the portly sovereign complimented her, slightly out of breath from his exertions.

“Why, thank you, Your Majesty,” she beamed. “’Tis a dance from one of the loveliest regions in the kingdom.”

“The Spey Valley?” he inquired vaguely. “That’s in Scotland, isn’t it?”

“Aye… Scotland,” she repeated, nonplussed that he should not know that.

“I’ve never been there.” he added. “There was that unpleasantness of the Rebellion of Forty-five, you know…”

“Well, that’s mostly forgotten, sir,” Jane said, whereupon she immediately felt she’d committed a heinous betrayal of everything Thomas had stood for in her life. “’Tis time those wounds were healed completely,” she amended.

“You are right, as usual!” her sovereign agreed, leading her with great politeness to Alex’s table where, Jane was pleased to note, Colonel Charles Lennox, heir to the Dukedom of Richmond, was conversing avidly with her daughter Charlotte. “You must tell me more of Scotland sometime, Your Grace,” declared King George before repairing once more to his waiting queen. “Perhaps we will someday pay a visit to that part of our realm.”

“We would be honored mightily, should you chose to come to Gordon Castle,” Jane murmured and sank into her chair.

Louisa, her pink cheeks glowing with the excitement of attending such a glittering affair, sat down next to Alex.

“Papa… didn’t Mama look magnificent, dancing with the king!”

Alex briefly appraised his wife’s flushed condition and nodded shortly.

“P-Papa…” Louisa ventured timidly, “I know I’m only twelve, but I would so like to dance with you… Huntly refuses to be my partner, though I begged and begged… would you dance with me… just a short one?” she finished with a rush.

Jane held her breath and watched Alex gaze at Louisa somberly. He looked as if he were about to assent, when his glance rested briefly on the lass’s deep rich garnet curls.

“You’re far too young to be gallivanting like a strumpet before the king. No. Absolutely not. What in the world gave you such an impudent notion?”

Jane’s throat ached at the sight of Louisa’s stricken face. She could see the girl’s eyes filling with tears.

“Huntly!” she said sharply to her son, who was leaning against a nearby wall discussing the merits of several horses soon to be offered at auction. “The ‘Gay Gordons’ is on the program tonight. When you hear them strike up the tune, you will dance with your sister Louisa, is that clear?”

Lord Huntly appeared startled by the angry tone he detected in his mother’s voice. He glanced at his younger sister and noted the look of misery creasing her pretty features. His father was staring impassively at the dancers gliding across the floor.

“Oh, all right, poppet,” Huntly said kindly. “I didn’t realize dancing with your brother was of such consequence.” He made a teasing bow. “Your servant, madam,” he added, kissing his young sister’s hand.

As if nothing were amiss, Alex poured some wine into an empty goblet and offered it to Jane. Startled, she took it from his hand, aware when his slender fingers deliberately brushed against hers.

“No minuets with Mr. Pitt?” he asked with an ironic glint in his eye.

“He doesn’t dance,” she retorted, “and besides, he’s ten years my junior. We’re merely friends. Of course,” she added for good measure, “’twould be impossible for you to understand, with your notions of women as merely playthings
or property.
”

“That’s right,” Alex agreed evenly, as if his exchange with Louisa had never taken place. “Would this piece of baggage I own care to dance? I too am a ‘Gay Gordon,’ remember? Tis only fitting the Duke and Duchess of Gordon should lead the set, don’t you think? And besides, ’tis an old favorite of ours, isn’t it?”

“No!” she snapped. “I wouldn’t like to dance with you!”

“But you
do
remember how much we both like this one, don’t you, my dear?”

Jane refused to answer. Her eyes darted about the room, hoping someone—anyone—would come and rescue her from Alex’s miserable company.

Alex stood up abruptly and clasped her hand. Jane glared at him, but allowed herself to be led to the floor to avoid an embarrassing scene. As they began the familiar steps of the dance, Jane, in order to avoid returning Alex’s piercing gaze, surreptitiously observed Lord Huntly and Louisa. The girl’s countenance had brightened considerably as she threw herself into the steps of the lively dance. Couples formed an enormous circle around the room. They paced four steps forward, and four steps back, with the lady circling gaily under the gentleman’s arm. Then, the last measures of each chorus were spent in skipping cadence, as the entire company whirled madly around the room.

As Jane twirled in Alex’s arms, refusing to look him full in the face, she caught sight of Charlotte and young Charles Lennox. The Third Duke of Richmond’s heir was the great-great-grandson of Charles II and his mistress Louise de Keroualle. The slim, handsome young man had just the qualifications to satisfy Jane’s growing ambitions for her children.

“I don’t like him,” Alex whispered in her ear, as their bodies passed close to one another. “He can be an ill-humored lout. Known for mutilating prey when he hunts, rather than making a clean kill. I’d steer her clear of him.”

“Oh, do be quiet!” she whispered back, a fixed smile on her lips. “He’s merely high-spirited, and I won’t have you interfering—”

“I… interfering with a matchmaking Mama?” he snorted, twirling her under his arm. “Heaven forbid. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t encourage it, Jane,” he continued sotto voce.

“I don’t need to,” she whispered back tartly. “They seem to be doing splendidly on their own!” They bowed to each other with mock gracious-ness as the music drew to a close.

The Duke and Duchess of Gordon, both panting furiously from their exertions, reclaimed their seats. They glanced at Charlotte and her suitor, who were staring into each other’s eyes.

Jane suddenly felt a hand on her knee and jumped. The hand belonged to Alex.

“I’d like to go home now,” he murmured. “To protect the virtue of my daughter and destroy that claimed by my wife.”

“As the king and queen have withdrawn, I am happy to comply with your first request, but I pray you, sir, put the second far from your mind.” She was still seething from Alex’s casual dismissal of Louisa. The air in the stuffy ballroom suddenly seemed insufferable. She stood abruptly, urging her brood to make their farewells, and, in a trice, they were all heading home for St. James’s Square.

“Colonel Lennox has asked to call, Mama,” Charlotte confided excitedly when Jane came to her bedchamber to bid good night. The other lasses were already fast asleep from sheer exhaustion and excitement.

“How wonderful!” Jane replied. “When?”

“Tomorrow,” Charlotte said shyly.

Jane’s spirits rose. An alliance with the Dukedom of Richmond would relieve her nagging anxiety about Charlotte’s future, but what of Alex’s objections? Were they merely grounded in spite?

“Well,” Jane replied carefully. “We’ve just had one wedding. Perhaps we shall have another before long—but only if he’ll agree to settle twenty-five thousand pounds on you as your very own!”

Shades of her mother, Jane thought grimly. But what choices did she have? She still had three other daughters whose futures she must attend to, and Alex seemed steadfast in his refusal to grant her a larger allowance.

Charlotte threw her arms around her mother and hugged her.

“Do you find him kind?” Jane asked quietly, taking her daughters hands in hers. “Do you find Charles Lennox a man you can talk to like a friend?”

Charlotte looked puzzled.

“Not like Madelina or you, Mama,” she replied, her brows knit. “But, when he squeezes my hand, shivers run up my spine,” she added shyly.

“Um…” Jane replied. “It takes more than shivers to make a life together, dearheart,” she said lightly. She thought of the piles of bills awaiting her attention on her desk downstairs. “But, I’m glad he makes you happy, pet.”

Charlotte slipped into bed and pulled the bed linen to her shoulders. She stared up at her mother with a serious frown puckering her brow.

“’Tis time I married, Mama, especially now that Madelina’s a wife. ’Tis by far the best proposal I’m likely to get, that is, if I do get one… and with Papa so tight with the purse strings…”

“That’s none of your concern!” Jane said more sharply than she intended. Charlotte averted her eyes and stared at the bed linen. “You’re a lovely lass, and you can have your pick!” she continued, but, as Charlotte and she locked glances, they both knew the truth of the young girl’s observations.

Jane found Alex leaning on the mantel, sipping a whiskey, as she opened the door to her suite of rooms.

“Lennox wishes to pay suit?” Alex asked abruptly.

“Aye,” Jane answered warily. “Pray, why are you in my bedchamber? I believe earlier I made my preference clear to you.”

“I came to tell you I’ve heard the lad’s had some sort of skirmish with the Duke of York. There’s talk of a duel.”

“That impudent royal puppy! All credit to Lennox, then,” Jane exclaimed.

Alex arched an eyebrow, but remained silent on the subject of Charlotte’s new suitor. Then he stared for a moment into the amber liquid in his glass.

“I also came to claim my sacred conjugal rights…” he said over his glass with a wolfish grin.

“You cannot be serious!”

“I am your husband, I will remind you.” He smiled mockingly. “Wasn’t it
you
who said that we could continue to appear to be man and wife?”

“In
public
, and certainly not after… after…”

“After what?” he asked, apparently puzzled.

“Not after the meanness you constantly display to poor Louisa… nor the way you are forever goading me about Pitt and Burns!”

“Jane. Why don’t you ever realize I do that as a kind of tribute to your charms?” he asked lightly, ignoring her first accusation, because they both knew his behavior troubled him more than he was willing to admit.

“’Tis no tribute to be accused of cuckolding you.”

“Ah, but you did, in fact, cuckold me,” he replied shortly.

“And you, me… and continue to do so—so we’re even.”

“What a good place to begin a new chapter,” he said huskily, reaching suddenly for her hand and kissing the inside of her palm.

“Or a new battle,” she replied, pulling her hand away from his. “’Tis no good, Alex. We’ve tried and tried…”

“Let’s try one more time,” he coaxed, grasping her chin between his fingers and pulling her close to him. “I watched you tonight, Duchess. You were radiant… the center of attention. Even our dotty old king couldn’t resist your charms.” He leaned forward and his lips probed hers in a sensuous kiss. “I wanted to take you right then and there—right on the floor—in the middle of all those mincing dancers.”