The Dark Earl (29 page)
Harry went still.
Good God, she’s talking about my grandmother Georgina, Duchess of Bedford. Her heroine’s lover is Edwin Landseer, and their love child is Rachel.
She licked her lips, which had suddenly gone dry, and made a suggestion. “Couldn’t you write it without actually revealing who the father is? It could have an air of romantic mystery if you let the reader decide if the child was her husband’s or her lover’s.”
Good God, she’s talking about my grandmother Georgina, Duchess of Bedford. Her heroine’s lover is Edwin Landseer, and their love child is Rachel.
She licked her lips, which had suddenly gone dry, and made a suggestion. “Couldn’t you write it without actually revealing who the father is? It could have an air of romantic mystery if you let the reader decide if the child was her husband’s or her lover’s.”
“That could be rather titillating. The important thing is to write the story of a lady who makes the decision to take a lover. I want to make it wild and sensual. I intend to make it the most romantic story I’ve ever written.”
Rachel is so enraptured over having a lover that she cannot wait to tell the world about how it feels to have a delicious, secret affair.
Lady Abercorn came downstairs with Lord Butler, who had also miraculously transformed himself into a respectable gentleman. He politely offered his arm to Rachel, and everyone went in to dinner.
“When did this happen?” Lord Butler demanded as he read the urgent letter from his brother’s wife, Frances, Marchioness of Ormonde.
“Three days back, sor,” the messenger from Kilkenny Castle replied. “I rode as swiftly as I could, m’lord.”
“Whatever is amiss, James?” Rachel asked as she saw the look of grave apprehension on her lover’s face.
“My brother John has had a riding accident. He is in a coma. Frances asks that I return immediately.”
Rachel turned pale. “I’m so sorry, James. You must go home without delay. I hope John is recovered by the time you get there.”
“Harry, take the messenger to the kitchen, and I’ll have Mrs. Kennedy plenish a room for him. You cannot set out until morning, James,” the duchess advised their guest.
Harry led the man to the kitchen and poured him a mug of ale as Mrs. Pithers made up a plate of food for him. Before he finished his ale, Butler arrived.
“Mick, this letter tells me next to nothing. You saw John after his accident. He will recover, won’t he?”
Mick glanced at Harry. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m afraid I have me doubts, yer lordship.” He shook his head gravely. “Doctor says Lord John fractured his skull, an’ not likely to come out of his torpor. Lady Ormonde is beside herself.”
James looked at Harry. “I need to talk with Rachel.”
She accompanied him back to the great hall. “Rachel, why don’t you take James upstairs? He needs to talk to you in private.”
Lord Butler paced across Rachel’s suite. “I spoke with the messenger and he holds out little hope that my brother will survive. Since John’s eldest son is only ten years old, I will have to take on the responsibility of running Kilkenny if my brother doesn’t survive.”
“James, I hope you don’t have to suffer such a tragic loss, but your family could have none more capable of taking charge.”
James took her hands and bent to kiss her brow. “Rachel, I want you to be my wife.”
Rachel smiled up at him. “And I want you to be my husband.”
James bit his lip. “If John does die, I’ll have to observe a mourning period before I can marry.”
“Darling, I understand perfectly.”
“No, you don’t understand. What I mean is that we should marry while he still lives. I want you to marry me tonight, so that you can come with me tomorrow.”
Rachel caught her breath. “If Abercorn can arrange it, of course I will marry you tonight.”
He held up his hand. “Before you make your decision, I want you to know what you’re getting into, my love. John is only forty-six years old. He has seven young children who I will have to father if, God forbid, he doesn’t survive.”
Rachel stood on her toes to kiss him. “I don’t mind sharing you, James. You have enough love to go around.”
“You are very generous, Rachel. That’s why I love you so much.”
“Come, let’s go and tell the family, and ask Abercorn to help us.”
While Abercorn went into Omagh to get the priest from St. Peter and Paul’s Church, Harry helped Rachel to pack. “In spite of the dreadful circumstances, I’m glad you are getting married tonight.”
“James didn’t want to wait. If his brother dies, he’d have to observe a long mourning period. It’s strange how things we have no control over can change the course of our lives in an instant.”
Harry thought about how her life had changed the day she found Trixy and D’Arcy together. “Perhaps the universe has a plan for us. Man proposes; God disposes.”
“The Marquis of Ormonde is only forty-six, and his oldest child is only ten. If John dies, James will be head of the family, and will have the running of Kilkenny Castle. His responsibilities will increase tenfold.”
“I warrant it is fate that the two of you fell in love. James will need the help and comfort of a wife. You will bring him much happiness, Rachel.”
The entire staff of Barons Court gathered with the family in the great hall to witness the hastily arranged marriage between Lady Rachel Evelyn Russell and Lord James Wandesford Butler. Abercorn had brought the priest from Omagh, and stood ready to give the bride away.
The wild Irish roses quickly gathered for the bride’s bouquet filled the air with their heady fragrance, and Harry knew that from now on she would always associate the scent with weddings. As the priest intoned the solemnization of marriage, Harry’s imagination took flight.
There is a superstition that weddings come in threes.
There is a superstition that weddings come in threes.
When James and Rachel were pronounced man and wife, the groom kissed the bride, and Lady Lu directed a footman to bring champagne. The family and the servants drank a toast to the newlyweds and wished them a long, happy, and fruitful marriage.
“James, if you would like me to travel back to Kilkenny with you, I am at your service,” Abercorn declared.
“Thank you for your kind offer, but I don’t believe it will be necessary to disrupt you. Your time at Barons Court is limited this year. I’ll apprise you of John’s condition when we get to Kilkenny.” He slipped his arm about his bride. “I truly appreciate your making it possible for Rachel and me to exchange our wedding vows on such short notice.”
“On our return journey, I think we should go by way of Kilkenny,” Louisa suggested. “Couldn’t we sail back to England from the coast near Waterford?” she asked her husband.
“That’s an excellent idea. I’ll have my captain take his ship and anchor it in Waterford Bay, and then we can sail across to Bristol. From there, it will only take one day’s coach ride to London.”
I won’t be able to visit Shugborough on our way back.
Harry felt a pang of regret.
Still, Thomas won’t be there. By September, he’ll be back in London.
Harry felt a pang of regret.
Still, Thomas won’t be there. By September, he’ll be back in London.
Harry hung back until the newlyweds retired and then she climbed the stairs with Jane.
“That’s the second rushed wedding,” Jane murmured. “When I marry, I want to be formally betrothed, receive a ring, and have an engagement party. I want a beautiful gown, lots of bridesmaids, and a reception with a towering wedding cake. If I were Rachel, I would feel cheated.”
“I can assure you Rachel doesn’t feel cheated. She feels blessed that she has found a husband who loves and adores her. When all is said and done, that’s the only thing that truly matters.” She kissed her sister’s cheek. “Good night, Jane. Sweet dreams.”
Harry lay awake for a long time as she thought about the day’s surprising events.
I’m so relieved that James asked Rachel to marry him. Once they became lovers, there was no guarantee that he would make her Lady Butler. His brother’s accident spurred him to propose because he didn’t want to leave her behind. I think Rachel was so taken with the romantic idea of becoming his mistress that she threw caution to the wind.
A full-blown picture of Rachel and James making love in the grass came into Harry’s mind.
I know it wasn’t their first time because Rachel felt no pain—only pleasure.
Harry could see Rachel’s legs wrapped around her lover’s body.
She knew exactly what to do.
I know it wasn’t their first time because Rachel felt no pain—only pleasure.
Harry could see Rachel’s legs wrapped around her lover’s body.
She knew exactly what to do.
The encounter Harry had witnessed had taken
some
of the mystery out of the physical act that took place between a man and a woman, though certainly not
all
of it. She hadn’t the faintest idea what it felt like. She could only imagine such passionate joy.
some
of the mystery out of the physical act that took place between a man and a woman, though certainly not
all
of it. She hadn’t the faintest idea what it felt like. She could only imagine such passionate joy.
As she drifted off to sleep, the fragrance of flowers stole to her.
That’s not wild rose—that’s the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle,
she thought as her dream began.
That’s not wild rose—that’s the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle,
she thought as her dream began.
Harry was swimming in the lake. She had transformed into a black otter, and a sleek, dark male began to chase her. To avoid him, or perhaps to lure him on, she dived deep, knowing he would follow. Not only did he catch up with her; he swam in circles and fancy patterns around her. He came so close that their bodies brushed against each other in what could be only a mating dance. His insistent male attention stirred her senses and called to the wild spirit that lay hidden deep within her. Her resistance to him gradually melted away and was replaced with an instinctive hunger for a soul mate.
When the male otter climbed from the water, he waited silently, hoping she would follow wherever he led. After an initial hesitation, she gathered her courage and emerged from the lake. He moved off into the long, green grass. Unable to resist his dark, dominant allure, she followed him.
He stretched his sleek body in the grass and she lay down beside him, admiring his male beauty. She felt the primal heat of arousal in her belly and rolled playfully onto her back, yielding to his dominance in feminine submission.
Slowly, she was transformed into a woman, and in the grass beside her lay dark and dominant Thomas Anson. The electricity between them was palpable. His animal magnetism was irresistible to Harry. She caught her breath as his fingers trailed across her cheek. She moved against him in invitation. She thrilled when his muscular arm swept about her, and when his mouth took possession of hers, she opened her lips. She gave in to temptation and threaded her fingers into his thick black curls. The heady fragrance of jasmine and honeysuckle saturated her senses.
Her dream changed once more. Suddenly before her eyes, Thomas was transformed into a magnificent black centaur. His glittering silver eyes flashed, demanding that she follow him into the forest. She was filled with an age-old knowledge that the adventure that awaited her promised to be glorious. She raised her head and pawed the ground impatiently. He towered above her; then he nuzzled her neck, and she accepted him.
Side by side, they loped through the long grass of the meadow and entered the woods. They ran faster and faster, galloping hell for leather in a wild frenzy of joy, relishing their freedom, ecstatic that they had found each other. When they entered a clearing in the heart of the forest, she stopped and waited for him to claim her. He did not mount her as she expected, but knelt down before her in homage to her lithe beauty.
In that moment she knew that he loved her.
“Worrisome circumstances apart, Rachel’s wedding is the second one we’ve celebrated recently. There is bound to be a
third
,” Lady Lu predicted as she glanced at Harry. “When we return to London, I shall invite the Montagu family to a dinner party.”
third
,” Lady Lu predicted as she glanced at Harry. “When we return to London, I shall invite the Montagu family to a dinner party.”
Mother is hoping for a match between William Montagu and me,
Harry thought.
Harry thought.
“I know that I am only seventeen, but if I receive a proposal of marriage, will you allow me to wed?” Jane asked.
“Darling, is this a fantasy or a real proposal you are speaking of?”
“Well, it’s real enough to me,” Jane declared.
“Since you’ll soon be eighteen, I see no reason why you should turn down a proposal if it comes from a noble whose family is worthy of a duke’s daughter.”
Jane is hopelessly infatuated with Will Montagu, but Mother has marked him for me. ’Tis plain she does not consider Thomas Anson’s family worthy in any way.
“The notion that marriages come in three is just silly Irish superstition.”
“The notion that marriages come in three is just silly Irish superstition.”
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