The Decadent Duke (36 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

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“If, on the other hand, you diligently comply with my demands, I will compensate you for your losses. I need your sworn oath that you will immediately cease and desist. My solicitor has prepared an affidavit for your signature.”
When John returned to Russell Square, he paced about the house like a panther. Today's action had been taken to protect Georgina. He had an overwhelming desire to see her, but the thought of going to Pall Mall and speaking with her in the presence of the Duchess of Gordon was distasteful to him.
I'll send a note to Charles Lennox and ask if he'll arrange for his sister-in-law to come to Fife House, so Georgina and I can talk in private.
 
“Lord, it's almost seven o'clock. He'll be here any minute, Charlotte. Do you think I can get away with this gray gown, or is black absolutely mandatory?”
“I've never seen you more indecisive, Georgy. Perhaps you should change into the black. John is in double mourning for his wife and his brother, both of whom he loved dearly.” In spite of Charlotte's efforts to protect her, Georgina had seen the Gillray cartoon, and knew everyone must be whispering about her. “You mustn't say anything outrageous,” her sister cautioned.
Georgina's heart hammered.
Charlotte isn't obtuse. She suspected long ago that I was hopelessly attracted to John, even before he was widowed.
“John must be livid that his brother is the subject of so much gossip and speculation.” Charlotte handed Georgina the black gown and hung the gray one in the wardrobe.
“Encouraging Francis Russell to court me was the most reckless thing I've ever done, especially when I detested the man. Now I'm the talk of London.” She bit her lip to stop it from trembling.
“You mustn't let John know that you despised Francis. It would wound him to the core. Promise you won't speak ill of the dead?”
“Surely you know I would never hurt John. I assure you I won't say or do anything inappropriate or improper.”
“I hear a carriage. John asked Charles to accompany him when he learned you were with me at Richmond-on-Thames. I'll go and greet them—don't wait too long before you make your appearance.”
 
John watched Georgina descend the stairs. He was shocked at her subdued appearance. In the black dress, she was as pale as a wraith, and looked so small and vulnerable, it tore at his heart.
“I am so sorry for your loss,” she murmured softly.
I am bearing the loss far better than you, little girl.
He fought the urge to take her in his arms and comfort her. He glanced at Charlotte, then at Charles, and an awkward silence descended.
Georgina sensed John wanted them to speak in private. “If you would care to accompany me . . . we could walk down to the river.”
“Of course.” He watched Charlotte wrap a black velvet cloak about her sister, and then miraculously they were outside alone. They walked along the river as darkness descended.
Guilt lay heavily on her heart. What she had done to Francis likely contributed to his untimely death. If John ever learned of her perfidy, she knew he would recoil from her.
“I am sorry that the gossip and speculation has added to your sorrow, Lady Georgina.”
If you have seen that cartoon, I will die of shame!
She did not dare tell him how she really felt about Francis. She looked up at him with beseeching eyes. “Please, it is too painful for me to speak of it.”
“Then we will speak of other things.”
A shiver of relief went through her.
“You are cold!” He stopped walking and took her hands.
“No . . . yes. I can't seem to get warm these days. I warrant I must feel the cold more than other people. I love Scotland with all my heart, but I cannot bear the Highland winters.”
John removed his coat and wrapped it around her. It was far too long, but he was determined to keep the cold from her. “You would love Devon. It is warm all year round, and its lush vales are filled with flowers, butterflies, and songbirds.”
“It sounds like paradise,” she said wistfully.
He suddenly realized that was the place in his recurring dream where he and Georgy always rode through the sun-drenched meadow as a prelude to their passionate lovemaking. John was acutely aware that such thoughts were shockingly inappropriate when the lady of his dreams was in mourning for his brother.
The specter of Francis stood between them like a barrier that was insurmountable at the moment. They were the two people most affected by his brother's death, and all they could share was sorrow and bereavement. John wished with his whole heart that it was not so. “I had a letter from your mother.”
Her lashes flew up, revealing how apprehensive and vulnerable she was.
How can I tell her that her mother is making matters worse by insisting she and Francis were engaged to be married?
John resolved to tell the Duchess of Gordon himself.
He hastened to relieve her anxiety. “Your mother sent her condolences and expressed her deep concern about you. That's what prompted my visit. I hoped to ease your sorrow by sharing it.”
“Thank you.vHer voice was barely above a whisper.
“Georgina, perhaps it will comfort you to know that Francis's last thoughts were about you.vHe watched her beautiful eyes flood with tears, and realized it was too soon to speak of such things. Her grief touched him and, though he wished it were not so, he finally accepted that she had fallen in love with Francis.
When John returned to Russell Square, the first thing he did was write a letter to the Duchess of Gordon.
 
Your Grace:
I regret that my silence gives you offense, but I am sure you will understand that it is dictated by the respect I owe my brother's memory.
There can be no doubt that Francis held your daughter in the highest esteem, and I agree with you that my brother's intentions with regard to Lady Georgina were entirely pure and honorable. As proof of his tender feelings, Francis requested that a lock of his hair be given to your daughter.
I am sure that a lady with your delicate sensibilities must agree that keeping a respectful silence will quell the gossip and speculation. This will protect your daughter from suffering more pain, which I know is the thing a loving mother desires most.
 
He signed his name, John Russell. He still could not bring himself to use his ducal title, Duke of Bedford.
 
When the Duchess of Gordon read John Russell's letter, she was chagrined that he had neither confirmed nor denied the engagement, but at least he had put in writing that Francis had requested a lock of his hair be given to Georgina. To Jane this was proof positive that the Duke of Bedford had intended marriage, and she dug in her heels. This time she would take her campaign to the highest authority.
She attended Queen Charlotte's monthly Drawing Room at Saint James's Palace, and took a gift of fresh salmon for His Royal Highness, King George. She told the queen, and all the other noble ladies present, her story of the private engagement, and added intimate details of the love affair between Georgina and the duke that had been carried on in secret at Kimbolton Castle. “With his last dying breath Francis asked that a lock of his hair be taken to his beloved.” She waved the letter from John Russell to verify the truth of her story.
When she returned home, the duchess wrote to Susan. She told her daughter it was imperative that she and Manchester back up her story if anyone questioned that an engagement had taken place at Kimbolton. Then she gave vent to her anger, and condemned John Russell.
The new Duke of Bedford has it within his power to confirm the engagement and put an end to the speculation. Instead, the wretched man remains stubbornly silent, which puts me in the embarrassing position of having to defend Georgina's reputation.
The following day Jane wrote a long letter to the Prince of Wales. It was filled with heartfelt sympathy for the loss of his dearest friend the Duke of Bedford.
Only one who bore him such deep love and affection can understand the grief my daughter is suffering. Francis proposed to Georgina in private, and he wrote to the Duke of Manchester, declaring his intentions to publicly announce their engagement. Then tragedy struck.
Jane finished the letter with a cunning mixture of sympathy and flattery, and knew that the Prince of Wales would not be able to resist sharing the story with his friends.
Unfortunately, Prinny's mistress, Lady Jersey, read the letter. She had no love for Francis Russell, since the embarrassing encounter at the masquerade ball held at Kimbolton, and she saw an opportunity to blacken his name. She told anyone who would listen that the profligate Duke of Bedford had taken Lady Georgina Gordon as his mistress before he died and had no intention of marrying the wanton beauty.
Gossip about Georgina's abortive engagement was spreading like wildfire. When Prince Edward visited Brooks's Club and, as always, had far too much to drink, he confessed to his friends that he and Francis had a thousand-pound wager to see which of them would be the first to bed Lady Georgina Gordon.
When these rumors were repeated with relish to the Duchess of Gordon, she finally realized that all the gossip was doing irreparable damage to her daughter's reputation. Scandal was the surest way to ruin Georgina's future marriage prospects. Jane, who knew she had a crisis on her hands, began to panic. It was a dilemma that she could not solve.
It was at this precise moment that fate stepped in. News swept through London that England and France were no longer at war. The
haut ton
became consumed with talk of politics, peace, and Paris. Celebration became the order of the day, and the fashionable people of London lost interest in the doleful affair of Georgina Gordon and Francis Russell.
 
“We are going to Paris!” Louisa's voice rang through the Pall Mall house as she tossed her cloak and hat to a footman.
With a proud smile lighting up his face, Charles Cornwallis followed his wife into Jane Gordon's sitting room. “My father signed the peace treaty at Amiens with Napoleon, ending the war with the French Republic.v
“The Marquis Cornwallis—of course!vThe Duchess of Gordon smiled for the first time in weeks. “It is most gratifying that my daughter is married to the son of the king's top general.”
“Where is Georgy? I can't wait to tell her.”
“She is in seclusion with Charlotte at Richmond-on-Thames while she mourns. It has been a difficult time for your sister, and a most trying time for me. I've done my utmost to be discreet and shield her from the dreadful gossip and speculation, but in spite of my efforts, I fear her reputation has been sullied.”
“I can't bear to think of Georgy being the butt of scandalmongers. She must be devastated. Perhaps she should come to Paris with us and put the whole thing behind her.”
Jane seized on the suggestion immediately. “Paris is a marvelous idea, Louisa! You have just solved my dilemma. I will close up Pall Mall and rent a house in the French capital for the spring and summer,” the duchess declared. “London will pay the price for maligning my daughter. Let's see how the powers that be manage without their leading Tory hostess.”
 
The Gordons were not the only society ladies to descend upon Paris. It suddenly became the fashionable thing to do. The royal family sent Anne, Duchess of Cumberland and widow of the king's brother, as their representative. The Prince of Wales suggested his ally Charles James Fox take his wife, Elizabeth, to Paris, and offered to pay all their expenses in return for weekly reports.
Lady Bessborough and her daughter Caroline were among the first to arrive. Unfortunately her sister, the Duchess of Devonshire, came down with an attack of gallstones and was distraught that she had to remain in London.
Lady Georgina's sister Susan was pea green with envy that her mother and sisters had gone to Paris. Because she was expecting a child, her husband would not allow her to cross the Channel.
It's all John Russell's fault! If he'd been a gentleman and acknowledged my sister's engagement, it would not have been necessary to get Georgina out of the country to salvage her reputation.
The longer she thought about it, the angrier she became.
The sheer arrogance of the man is beyond all bearing. He thinks the Russells are a breed apart, and the Gordons not good enough to be linked with their noble English name.
 
“Sorry to interrupt, Your Grace. You have a visitor.v John Russell had plans to bring his sons to Woburn for the weekend and had refurbished three bedchambers with their personal belongings he'd had shipped from the Russell Square house. He wanted to make the boys feel that Woburn was their family home. He had just finished hanging a portrait of their mother above the sitting room fireplace when Mr. Burke made his announcement.
“Who is it?vJohn climbed down from the ladder.
“The Duchess of Manchester. I put her in the main reception room.” Burke picked up John's jacket and helped him put it on.
An image of Georgina flashed into John's mind at mention of her sister. He masked the feeling of apprehension that gripped him as he strode into the reception room. “Good afternoon. May I welcome you to Woburn, Lady Susan?” He saw that she was rounded with child. She was also tapping her foot with impatience and did not return his smile. “I'm sorry if you've been kept waiting. Please have a chair.”
“This isn't a social call, Bedford. I'm here on business.”
She's bristling with animosity.
He stood politely and waited for her to continue.
Susan pulled a letter from her reticule and thrust it at him. “Do you deny that this is your brother's handwriting?v

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