The Decadent Duke (46 page)

“What took you so long to think of it? You
did
invite him?”

“Of course I invited Fox. Not only is he leader of the opposition, he's Henry's uncle. Charles Fox is a particular friend of the Gordons—we spent a lot of time together in Paris.”

“Yet another male rendered weak by your fatal charm.” His possessive mouth erased all other men from her mind.

After they made love, however, Georgina lay in the dark feeling acutely vulnerable. Not for the first time, at the climactic moment of passion, John had withdrawn.
He doesn't want me to be the mother of his children. He doesn't love me enough. That honor is reserved for his angelic Elizabeth.

“I love the smell of new-mown hay.” Georgina had ridden out with John's sons so they could watch the harvesting. The men scythed the tall oats and grass, and the women followed, gathering up huge armfuls and binding them into sheaves. “Are you sure you want to stay in the fields and help?”

“It's work to the farmers, but it's a novelty for us to make haystacks,” Francis assured her.

“Are you sure the attraction isn't the pretty farmers' daughters?” she teased. “I have to go and get ready. The government is about to descend on Woburn en masse.” She refrained from asking the two older boys to keep an eye on Johnny. She wanted him to become independent.

When Georgina returned to the house, she went into the formal dining room to inspect the table settings. “You've outdone yourself, Mr. Burke. The flowers are particularly striking.” Arrangements of spiky asters in the Bedford colors of purple and white decorated the side tables and filled the empty fireplace.

“You can put out the Scotch whiskey that Mother brought me. Politicians are particularly partial to a dram of whiskey.” She switched a couple of the place cards, moving Prime Minister Addington away from William Pitt and putting him next to Lauderdale.

She went upstairs, took her bath, and went to her dressing room to choose a gown. She was glad it was a warm evening since the material of all her Paris gowns was diaphanous. She decided to wear the pale green empire dress. She pinned a single white rose into the low décolletage, and put on dangling diamond earrings.

Georgina was admiring her reflection in the mirror when John came in from the other bedchamber through the adjoining door. She turned and pirouetted prettily for him.

“You cannot wear that. Our guests are all male. It is most unsuitable, Georgy.”

“What on earth do you mean?” She turned back to the mirror.

“The material is almost transparent . . . I can see the shape of your body through it.” His tone was forbidding.

“But it's the very latest style from Paris,” she protested.

“French women are known for their tasteless, seductive displays. English ladies are more refined, more respectable.”

“Really? You are a walking authority on refined English ladies, having been married to one. What is your opinion on Scottish ladies, pray tell?”

His dark eyes narrowed. “This particular Scottish lady is a precocious minx who likes to flaunt her beauty. I know you enjoy being deliberately flamboyant, Georgy, but I would appreciate it if you would change your gown. Our guests are arriving.”

She wanted to fly at him and scratch his arrogant face. Instead, she hung on to her temper and tried to see the situation through his eyes.
He made it plain he was marrying me because he needed a political hostess for Woburn.

Georgina wanted to dig in her heels and assert herself against her husband's dominant, controlling attitude. But because she knew tonight was extremely important to him, she acquiesced to his demands gracefully. “I'll change my gown. You go and greet our guests.”

Georgina changed into a rose-colored rustling taffeta and went downstairs. It was against her nature to be petulant. All her life she had been taught to use her feminine charm, and it flowed naturally from her.

John watched his beautiful young wife as she welcomed the politicians to Woburn. She moved among them with such ease, he couldn't take his eyes from her. Whether she was speaking with Lauderdale, who was rather coarse, or to Adair, who was effete, she enchanted them. When she engaged a gentleman in conversation, she concentrated her charm upon him as if he were the only man in the room, and it never failed.

The atmosphere she created at Woburn was at once elegant and comfortable. The dinner was a resounding success, and the whiskey helped the politicians of both parties to relax their guard and converse affably.

After dinner, Georgina gave John a speaking look, then proceeded to engage Prime Minister Addington. “I need your help and your advice, if you would indulge me, Mr. Prime Minister.”

“It would be an honor, Your Grace.”

“I have turned the stillroom into an apothecary of sorts. Since you are such a renowned medical man, could you come and look at the electuaries and herbal remedies I have concocted and tell me which are most effective in treating the minor ailments of our tenants?”

John joined his friend. “Henry, my wife has deliberately spirited away Addington so we may bring Fox and Pitt together. Let's hope the union bears fruit.”

That night, in the privacy of their bedchamber, John's eyes were filled with admiration. vYou were superb tonight, Georgy. I believe we made great strides toward accomplishing our mission, and you deserve a good deal of the credit.” Georgina's wicked juices were bubbling. “How gratifying. Imagine what I could have accomplished if I'd been allowed to wear the Paris creation.”

“You make me sound like a controlling devil,” he protested ruefully.

“You
are
a controlling devil. Irrational demands come only from irrational people. I let you get away with deciding what I could and could not wear tonight, but I warn you that's the last time, Bedford. Marriage should be a partnership, not a dictatorship.”

“How about a Tory-Whig alliance?”

vOnly if I'm allowed to be an
independent
Tory.” When he laughingly agreed, she went into his arms and kissed him.

 
Georgina began a portrait of Johnny for his birthday, and he decided he wanted the Abbess to be in the painting. The cat sat beside him on the sofa, purring loudly as he stroked her back.

“Who would you like me to invite to your birthday party?”

“My cousin Charlie and Uncle Huntly.”

“No, I mean your friends from school. Francis is inviting Will Cavendish and the Abercorn boy, and William wants his friends Jack Rawdon and Teddy Lister.”

Loud purring filled the silence, and she stopped sketching.

Johnny finally murmured, “I don't have any school friends.”

Cold fingers stole about her heart. “What about the boys in your class at Westminster?”

“I don't want to invite them. They laugh at me because I like to read and make cruel fun of me for being short.”

Georgina was outraged. “The bloody louts have been bullying you! Give me their names, Johnny.”

He smiled sweetly. “It doesn't matter, Georgy.”

happiest birthday ever
. “If you had a wish, what would it be?”

“I wish . . . I wish . . . I'd like to go to the theater.”

Georgina sensed that he had been about to wish for something else and was too shy to express himself. “Your wish is my command. I shall arrange for all of us to go into London and attend Drury Lane. Did you know the theater is on Bedford land?”

vDoes that mean we may attend anytime we want to?”

vIndeed it does, Johnny.”

Johnny's birthday, on August 18, exactly one month after Georgina's, was celebrated with gusto by all the Gordons, the Russells, and their friends. John, after much trepidation, gave in to his wife's pleading and presented his youngest son with his own horse. It was a young chestnut gelding, a far cry from the plodding Grey Lady that Johnny had ridden all summer.

“Thanks so much, Georgy. I know it was your idea. I've decided to call him Titus.”

Georgina winked at him. “What'd we do without Shakespeare?”

The next day, John and Georgina took the boys to a performance of
A Trip to Scarborough
by their friend Richard Sheridan. The play pricked the pretensions of people who were above themselves, and the duke thought the comedy would teach a valuable lesson.

The following week whenever Francis did something high-handed, Johnny dubbed him Lord Foppington, to the great delight of the rest of the family.

 
At the end of August, John took his eldest son up to Cambridge. “I'm going to miss Lord Foppington,” William declared, “but I can't wait for school to start. I've waited four years to be a senior at Westminster and enjoy all the privileges. I stand a good chance of becoming captain of the cricket team.”

“Your father and I will come and watch you play, William. Better start packing your trunks. Would you like me to help you?”

William flushed. “No, thank you, Lady Georgina. Mr. Burke has taken charge of it for me.”

“Then I shall help Johnny, though I doubt I'll be as efficient as Mr. Burke.” Georgina noticed that Johnny had suddenly become quiet and withdrawn now that the new school term was only two days away, and her heart went out to him.

On the morning they were to leave for London, Johnny became nauseated and threw up his breakfast. Georgina put him to bed and promised to come back and sit with him until he felt better; then she went downstairs to speak with his father.

“John, why don't you take William back to Westminster and leave Johnny here for a few days? He may be coming down with something. And William is chafing at the bit to start his senior year.”

“What about tomorrow night? Would you rather we postponed the dinner we planned?”

“No, of course not. Parliament opens in a couple of days, and we need to get the members together before that.” The Duke and Duchess of Bedford had made plans to host another political gathering, but this time they had excluded Prime Minister Addington and his close Tory allies.

 
“I'm glad you're feeling better.” Georgina watched Johnny eat his supper, and she helped herself to one of his quince tarts.

“I enjoyed walking the dogs. I think the greyhounds miss Francis and William. Will you watch over the Abbess for me when I go back to school, Georgy?”

“Of course I will. I'll feed her kipper every day. Now I must go and get ready. William Pitt is always punctual.”

Georgina bathed and had Jenny fashion her a new coiffeur. Her silken black hair was pinned up with diamond combs, except for one long curl that fell to her shoulder. She thanked the maid and told her she wouldn't need her further. Georgina planned to wear one of her Paris gowns, and she braced herself for her husband's objections.

From her dressing room, she heard John enter her bedchamber. “Ah, just the man I need. Would you fasten the back of my gown?” She saw his dark brows draw together as the storm clouds gathered.

“I'd rather you wore something else,” he said bluntly.

“But I love this pale lavender muslin. My purple slippers and gloves contrast perfectly. I thought you came to escort me downstairs, not line me up for inspection!”

John was not amused. “You have failed the inspection. You may wear this when we dine alone, but not when we entertain a houseful of gentlemen.”

She raised her chin. “Few of them, including the host, are gentlemen!”

“Guilty as charged. Change your gown, Georgina.”

Her stubborn demeanor vanished, and she heaved a deep sigh, as if she would capitulate to her husband's demands.

“Good girl. I'll go down and greet our guests.”

“You'd best go and say good night to Johnny first.”

Georgina knew it would take a few minutes for him to go up one floor and cross to the wing where his sons' bedrooms were located. She pulled on her gloves, picked up her fan, and went downstairs.

Charles Lennox was the first to arrive and she greeted Charlotte's husband with a welcoming hug. Charles James Fox arrived with his nephew Lord Holland. “Henry, you've managed the impossible . . . you're here before Mr. Pitt. Charles, let me get you a dram of whiskey.”

Fox took her hand to his lips. “You look exquisite, my dear. You are one of the few ladies I know who do justice to the Parisian fashions.”

John entered the drawing room in time to see his wife bestow a radiant smile on Fox. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he surveyed Georgina's gown. He walked a direct path to her and took a firm hold of her arm. “Would you excuse us, gentlemen?” He led her from the room, then gripped her more firmly and ushered her upstairs to her chamber. “You agreed to change your gown.”

She pulled away from him. “I agreed to no such thing. I don't respond well to orders, Bedford.”

John made an effort to control his rising anger. “Then I shall ask you kindly. Please change your gown, Georgina.”

She turned and glanced through the window. “Oh, William Pitt has just arrived. How disrespectful that we are not there to greet him. Please offer my apologies and tell him I'll be down directly, John.”

When Georgina arrived in the drawing room she greeted Pitt effusively. “William, I hope you won't mind being my dinner partner again? I would rather sit next to you than any other man in England.”

The muscle in John's jaw clenched like a lump of iron. He poured two glasses of claret and brought one to Pitt. He was about to hand the other to Georgina when it slipped from his fingers and the dark red wine splashed down the front of her gown.