The Decadent Duke (37 page)

He took the sheet of paper embossed with the ducal crest, and immediately recognized his brother's negligent scrawl. He saw it was addressed to the Duke of Manchester and dated February 3, a month before Francis had died.

 
John felt his gut knot.
You bastard, Francis! With your dying breath you swore to me you had not asked Georgina to marry you.

He handed the letter back to Susan. “I assured your mother that Francis held Lady Georgina in the highest esteem and that his intentions were honorable.” John cursed silently. “Obviously, I should have said more. When I am in London tomorrow, I will call upon the Duchess of Gordon and apologize.v

“Your call will be in vain. My mother has closed the Pall Mall house and been forced to take my sister out of the country to quell the scandal that you could have so easily prevented. Georgina's reputation has been torn to shreds. Her prospects for a future marriage have been ruined. You are duty bound to restore her honor!”

John's heart sank. “Your sister has gone to Scotland?” he asked bleakly.

vScotland, my arse! The little vixen has gone to
Paris.
”

“You are welcome to stay here in Russell Square with me while your wife is in Paris,” John told his friend Henry. “The place seems so empty, I'd appreciate your company.”

“Thanks, John.” Holland threw down his napkin and picked up his glass. “Since your chef is superior to mine, I
will
stay for a couple of days. Have you taken your seat in the Lords yet?”

vNot yet—later in the week, perhaps, when I've taken care of some business. I've decided to ask Humphrey Repton to landscape the gardens at Woburn. They are in a dreadful state of neglect.”John picked up his glass. “I shall miss the Commons. Perhaps I can work behind the scenes to help get William Pitt reinstated.”

“Damn good idea. Under Addington, parliament is dysfunctional.”

“Well, at least one thing got done this spring—Cornwallis negotiated the Peace Treaty of Amiens with France's first consul.”

“According to my wife's letters, half of London flocked to Paris, all clamoring to meet Napoleon and the Bonaparte family. They apparently hold court as if they were royalty.”

“Either they don't see the irony, or don't give a damn.”

“The English aristocrats or the Bonapartes?”

John laughed for the first time in weeks. “Both, I suppose.”

“The nightlife is more spectacular than anything in London. Beth is invited to a ball or dinner party every night.”

“No doubt her dress bills will be astronomical.”

“Undoubtedly. She reports the English fashions are outdated, and though the Paris gowns are shocking, all the ladies are buying them. She is trying to persuade Lady Georgina to stop wearing her mourning weeds and go shopping with her.”

At mention of Georgina, John remembered how pale and wan she had looked in the black gown. “I hope Beth succeeds. I wish Lady Georgina could regain her vivacity. Perhaps Paris will diminish her sadness.”
I want Georgy to laugh again, and flirt, and say saucy, outrageous things.

“According to Beth, Georgina has already made a conquest. Napoleon and Josephine's son, Eugene Beauharnais, is hopelessly lovesick over the young beauty, though she discourages him.”

John's dark brows drew together, and he felt the familiar knot in his belly. “The Duchess of Gordon should protect her daughter from unwanted attention.”

“If I know Jane Gordon, she will do everything in her power to secure Eugene as husband for Georgina.”

John was stunned. “You cannot be serious?v

“I'm perfectly serious. The Duchess of Gordon is a ruthless matchmaker. She's made it her life's work to marry her daughters to men of high status. Napoleon and Josephine's son is the equivalent of a French prince. Jane won't be able to resist.v

John changed the subject, and they discussed politics until it was time to retire. But once he was in bed, thoughts of Georgina flooded his imagination.
Eugene Beauharnais is her own age. By all accounts he is handsome and has proved himself on the battlefield. She is bound to find him attractive.

The disturbing thoughts kept him awake for hours. He wanted her to stop mourning Francis, yet perversely he did not want her to give her heart to any other man. Though he had tried to curb his longing for Georgina Gordon, he had not succeeded.

“I want her for myself.” For the first time he said it aloud. The admission added to the guilt he felt at desiring the woman his brother had chosen. John thumped his pillows in frustration, and vowed to stop being obsessed with her.

 
Next morning at the breakfast table, John realized his obsession was stronger than ever. “Henry, at the risk of offending you, may I broach a subject that is personal?”

“I don't offend easily.”

“When Beth's husband divorced her, how did the two of you survive the scandal?”

“She suffered a great deal of shame and guilt, and I was powerless to stop the gossip. But, amazingly, once we were married and she became Lady Holland, we were accepted back into society as if it had never happened. Surely you know there is nothing more hypocritical than the British aristocracy?”

“You are right, of course. When my wife died, I was completely ostracized by her sisters. But the moment I became the Duke of Bedford, both Lady Bath and Lady Bradford wrote me ingratiating letters, suddenly expressing belated concern for my motherless sons and hoping they would be welcome at Woburn.” John laughed bitterly. “Not a bloody chance.”

“What prompted you to ask about Beth's divorce?”

John glanced at Henry and their eyes met. “There is a lady I am interested in. She has been touched by scandal, and I am deeply concerned for her. Since I am in double mourning, I am afraid my attentions would be deemed decadent and fuel horrendous gossip—I do not wish to cause her more pain.” John looked away.

Good God, you are in love with Georgina Gordon.
Henry chose his words carefully. “Tongues will wag, of course. But if you make the lady Duchess of Bedford, the
ton
will fawn upon her.”

John was suddenly filled with misgivings. First and foremost was the fear that she would refuse him, and on top of that, he wondered what possible excuse he could have for showing up in Paris. Yet he knew his longing was eating a hole inside of him. John cursed himself for a coward.
What the hellfire is the matter with you? If you want her, go and get her!

 
“Georgina, you cannot go to the Tuileries Palace reception in that drab gray dress. You look like a dowdy old maid.” The Duchess of Gordon was garbed in sapphire-blue lace with an ostrich feather fan dyed to match. “Ah, here is Louisa. Look how deliciously feminine your sister looks in her lavender tulle. Go and change at once, Georgy.v

Louisa spoke up quickly. “There's no time, Mother. Marquis Cornwallis and Charles are waiting in the carriage to give you a ride. We cannot be late.”

“Mother, go with Louisa. I shall stay home.”

“Stay home? That is out of the question. You know Eugene Beauharnais is smitten with you. He's been dancing attendance on you for a month—we cannot let
this
one slip through our fingers.”

Louisa looked from her mother to her sister. “Did I miss something while my eyes were rolling?”

“She's at it again ... shoving me into the arms of another suitor before the last one is cold in his grave.”

“Georgina, this is the chance of a lifetime. Josephine Bonaparte will give her son anything he wants, and it's perfectly obvious to everyone that he wants you. Go and change.”

“There's no time. It's rude to keep the marquis waiting.”

“Off you go, Louisa. You may tell Marquis Cornwallis to send the carriage back for us. Georgy and I will be fashionably late.v

When they were alone, Jane rounded on her youngest daughter. “You have a rare opportunity to outdo all of your sisters in the marriage market. A connection with Napoleon Bonaparte's family will be a
dynastic
match. All London will be agog!”

“I'm already the talk of London,” Georgina said with asperity. “Eugene is a boy . . . this is just an infatuation.”

“A boy your own age. You should be able to wrap him around your little finger and have him panting to get you into bed. If you'd just seduce him, you could be the most envied woman in England and France. I shall wait for you while you go and change into something that will—v

“Make him pant?vGeorgina asked sweetly. “In that case, Mother, you will be waiting until dawn.”

 
“Welcome to Paris, Your Grace.vLord Charles Whitworth, the British ambassador, shook John Russell's hand warmly. “I have had a suite prepared for you here at the embassy.”

“I appreciate your kind hospitality, Charles.”

“I know it's short notice, but having the Duke of Bedford accompany me to Napoleon's reception at the Tuileries Palace tonight will lend me a good deal of consequence.”

“I would be honored.” An invitation to the Tuileries on his first night in Paris could not have fit in better with his plans.

When John and the ambassador's party arrived, they ascended the Tuileries stairs, which were guarded by double rows of French grenadiers. Then they passed through three antechambers where uniformed musicians were playing military music. In the gold salon he was presented to Josephine, who was arrayed in diamonds. John was amused that her slumberous eyes frankly assessed his tall physique, and her sensual smile told him she liked what she saw.

As they moved into the great hall where they would dine, liveried footmen lined the walls.

“This is far more ostentatious than anything at Saint James's Palace.” John's polite smile hid his amusement.

“The formality of Napoleon's court
is
rather extraordinary,” Whitworth conceded.

John's glance swept the mirrored chamber, searching among the guests for Georgina. He longed to see her, yet at the same time he hoped she would not be in attendance. The ambassador stopped to speak with Marquis Cornwallis and his son, Lord Brome. John's eyes were drawn to Brome's beautiful wife, and he realized it was Georgina's sister Louisa. She wore a diaphanous gown in the latest Parisian style, which exposed her breasts in a daring fashion. John's amusement deserted him.

Whitworth introduced him to Markoff, the Russian ambassador, and then a fanfare of trumpets silenced the guests as Napoleon and Josephine entered the glittering chamber. As the first consul escorted his wife to the dais and John saw that she stood head and shoulders above Bonaparte, some of his amusement returned.

Once all the guests were seated, the liveried footmen moved as one to the long tables and began to fill the glasses with French champagne. Napoleon proposed a toast to his guests, and then the servers began to bring in the first course.

The Duchess of Gordon swept into the chamber, not disconcerted in the least that she and her daughter had arrived late. She marched down to the dais, sank into a curtsy, and with great aplomb took a seat on the front row.

John's gaze was riveted on Georgina. She was wearing a gray silk gown with a demure neckline. Her eyes were downcast, and her lashes formed dark crescents on her pale cheeks. His heart went out to her as he silently cursed Jane Gordon's brazen audacity.

He was surprised to see a young man and a young lady eagerly jump up as Georgina approached. The pair guided her to a seat they had obviously been saving for her.

John immediately identified the young man as Eugene Beauharnais, and guessed that the young female was his sister, Hortense. John's heart sank. Their attentive familiarity showed that they adored Georgina.

It was easy to see that young Beauharnais was enamored of the English beauty, but John was shrewd enough to suspect that Bonaparte's insatiable thirst for power would drive him to seek a marital alliance for Eugene with a European princess.
The boy's heart may be broken, but he will obey Napoleon's orders.

After dinner, the guests mingled in yet another sumptuous chamber of the Tuileries Palace. Whitworth introduced John to many foreign dignitaries, but after having to politely greet three French generals, he excused himself.
They were our bloody enemies only two months ago.

Determined to see Georgina, he spotted the Duchess of Gordon and her daughter Louisa holding forth with Josephine Bonaparte. Some distance away, Georgina stood talking with Hortense and, as luck would have it, Lady Holland. John did not approach them, but stood quietly, content to simply admire her from a distance.

As if Georgina sensed his presence, she raised her lashes and gazed at him in amazement. “John.” She moved toward him, mesmerized. “You came to Paris.” Her eyes were filled with wonder, and a light blush tinted her pale cheeks.

Lady Holland turned and saw him. “John, darling!” she cried happily. “How lovely to see you. The change of scene will do you a world of good. Where are you staying?”