The Duke's Disaster (R) (10 page)

Noah had needed that reassurance, for his own parents had staged rows that had made Drury Lane look boring and Waterloo a friendly skirmish.

“I will try not to provoke you, Thea, but I am by nature a cautious man, and our marriage is off on a bad foot.”

“It isn’t the Siege of Rome,” she said, tossing back the covers and bouncing to the bottom of the bed, “and we haven’t come to blows or embarrassing the servants yet.”

“Nor shall we.”

As the words left his lips, Noah didn’t know if he were uttering a promise or a prayer.

* * *

“Marriage must agree with my brother.” Patience offered the observation casually, but Thea understood it as a warning shot prior to an interrogation. Harlan was showing Nonie the third-floor conservatory, while Noah and James were closeted in the game room, leaving Thea to fend for herself.

As usual.

“I’m not sure marriage agrees with His Grace,” Thea said, “but he likes to accomplish what he sets out to do, and he set out to find a bride this Season.”

“Well put.” Patience slipped her arm through Thea’s. “And most of these fellows”—she waved her other arm at the portraits marching the length of a fifty-foot wall—“set out only to wench, swive, and occasionally take up arms for King and Country. Noah is a changeling in our family.”

“Do you mean that literally?”

Patience paused before a dark-haired, blue-eyed, laughing courtier in hose and ruffed collar.

“This one was supposedly a favorite of Good Queen Bess,” she said. “A particular favorite, whose exertions to please his monarch resulted in elevation of the title from viscountcy to earldom. Noah is a Winters by blood. Of that, there can be no doubt.”

The fellow had a handsome smirk and looked on the verge of winking.

“Noah would never do such a thing?” Thea asked.

“He would not.” Patience moved on to the next portrait, an equally rascally looking fellow. “Noah seldom comes to the portrait gallery, in fact, because these rakish fellows make no sense to him. I’m sure he tells himself they were from an earlier time. They weren’t evil, they might not have enhanced the family coffers, but until recently, they didn’t decimate them either.”

They all certainly dressed well. “Until recently?”

“I shall be blunt,” Patience said, pausing before a portrait of a smiling couple in elaborate wigs and embroidered finery. “I doubt Noah spelled it out for you when he was doing his, what, three days of wooing?”

Whatever he’d done, he hadn’t spent those days wooing. “Four.”

Patience moved the frame half an inch, so the portrait hung squarely. “You let him get away with this, Thea. What could you have been thinking?”

“Honestly? I was thinking the settlements were very generous, because they provided not only for me, but for Nonie and any daughters of our union as well. If I asked it of the duke, I believe he would take my brother in hand too.”

Though Thea hadn’t wanted to ask Noah for much of anything lately.

“Ask it of him,” Patience said, strolling along. “Noah thrives on responsibility. You want to know about our family finances? When Papa was alive, the duns were circling, threatening to foreclose on the unentailed properties, for he’d mortgaged them all to pay for his lightskirts and queer starts. My late uncle was no better, though of the three, he was the least profligate. Uncle Meech is on a stipend, and while it’s generous, Noah is adamant that Meech manage within it.”

“I have not met this Uncle Meech,” Thea said. “He was rusticating at the time of the wedding. Noah holds him in affection, though.”

Noah held his brother, his sisters, the little girls, his roosters, his horses…all save his duchess in great affection, or so Thea felt.

“Meech was one of Noah’s guardians when Papa died, and he’s not a bad sort.” Patience frowned at a portrait of a lady holding a small, walleyed dog wearing a jeweled collar. “My grandmother in her salad days.”

The one who’d loved flowers? “She must have adored that dog. Noah has retrieved the finances from ruin?”

“I was only a girl when Papa died, and Harlan wasn’t even born,” Patience said. “I knew the servants were always exchanging portentous looks over the mail tray. I noticed the frequent callers from the City who were received only in the parlors that had no windows, that sort of thing. Noah dealt with it all, and James says the situation was frightful, because he and Noah were barely out of public school.”

“Then Noah never had those useless years,” Thea said. “The ones immediately after university, when young men get into so much trouble and nobody holds them to account?”

When they had fun, made mistakes, got their hearts broken, and made silly wagers.

“Noah has never had the fribbling years, while Uncle appears trapped in them, along with his other cronies and partners in mischief.”

Thea took a seat on a velvet-cushioned bench, not wanting the conversation to end prematurely, for Noah would never share this information with her.

“Is he received, your uncle?” she asked.

“Oh, everywhere,” Patience said, peering at a painting of a woman with a shepherdess’s crook and several fat, woolly sheep about her. “Meech and his set are a regular fixture at the house parties, in the ballrooms during the Season, and in the autumn reprise of the Season. They circulate all the best gossip, and are considered minor arbiters of fashion.”

Even the mention of house parties made Thea uneasy. “While for your family, Rome might have been burning.”

“Well, the footmen certainly weren’t being paid as promptly as they should have been. Nor the maids, or the merchants.”

Thea rose to inspect the shepherdess, because from a distance, the sheep appeared to be smiling.

“Do you suppose Noah thinks he must buy his way through life?” she asked.

Patience linked their arms again. Like Noah, she was apparently a toucher. “What a lonely notion. I would say Noah believes he must work his way through life. He’s too serious by half, and doesn’t know how to go on unless he’s solving some problem or other.”

Or
creating
a
problem.
“But you love him.”

“Oh, yes.” Patience’s smile was radiant. “I love him, so do my sisters, our husbands, and so will our children. Noah’s tenants love him, and household staffs love him. We owe him a great deal, and always will.”

Thea wasn’t sure what to say to that, because a man so thoroughly loved and appreciated should not be limited to buying his bride.

Across the gallery, the laughing courtier smirked at Thea, the walleyed dog eternally panted, and the sheep milled about at the feet of their titled shepherdess.

They all seemed to say the same thing: the duke who’d bought his bride, however much Thea might lament his approach to courting, did not deserve damaged goods for his coin.

* * *

At dinner, true to his word, Noah’s demeanor gave no hint of discord between him and his wife. Thea held up her end of the bargain, smiling and steering the conversational barge to topics of general and cheerful interest. Patience excused herself from the drawing room civilities when the ladies rose to take their tea, and a particularly tender look passed between James and his lady.

What would Thea have to do to earn such a glance from her husband? Noah was watching her, not tenderly, but with a regard Thea couldn’t quite discern.

He tucked her hand over his arm as they approached the drawing room.

“Dear Wife, you must not wait up for me. Subduing James over the cribbage board might be a lengthy undertaking. He is to be a papa, you see, and his pride needs a sound drubbing.”

Hence that tender look.

“Here we go,” Harlan said from where he was escorting Nonie behind them. “The battle of the gods, but they leave the decanter undefended in their absorption with the hostilities.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Patience observed, “you will be expected to ride out with these old warhorses, and in your case, the decanter will have been painfully victorious.”

“Heed your sister,” James said, “for the rain has stopped, and I’ve a notion to see how Wellspring is getting on.”

Noah paused outside the parlor door. “Thea, I bid you a pleasant evening, and please do not think to give up your slumber in the morning for a soggy ride. I’m sure you’ll want to visit with your sister.” He kissed her cheek and departed after good nights all around.

Nonie had been oddly subdued for most of the day, but when Thea closed the door to the drawing room, Nonie wrapped her in a hug.

“Oh, Thea, you truly are a duchess, aren’t you?”

She was and she wasn’t. “What does that mean?”

Nonie gestured to the room in general. “This whole house is what I mean. Did you know Noah has been to North and South America? Harlan said he’d been to Egypt and the Levant as well. That’s four continents, Thea, and he’s rich as a nabob and owns property in seventeen different shires and counties, including Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and France.”

“Five continents,” Thea countered. “But no, I wasn’t aware he was so well traveled. Tea, dearest?”

Nonie plopped down onto a sofa. “Please, for I must settle my nerves, Thea. Harlan is absolutely delicious, and so is James. I’ve called upon the others too, since the wedding breakfast, and they are all lovely, and they all wanted to descend on you here at Wellspring, but James wasn’t having any of that.”

Thea let Nonie prattle on until two cups of tea later, when she finally sputtered to a pause.

“But are you happy, Thea?”

Thea was married.
Happy
didn’t signify. “I am pleased. Anselm has dowered you generously, Nonie. Very generously, and you are welcome to live with us when I’ve found my bearings here.”

“I haven’t spent a summer in the country for ages,” Nonie said, glancing about as if heaven might have sported the same wallpaper as this very drawing room. “Will Harlan be here?”

For the next twenty minutes, Nonie’s conversation was peppered with references to Harlan-said and Harlan-told-me and Harlan-thinks.

Thea smiled into her tea, wondering if she’d ever, ever been that innocent, particularly where a male of the species was concerned.

“James says we aren’t to think of wandering the house parties while Lady Patience is in a delicate condition,” Nonie went on. “Patience said she doesn’t want to be tied to the foaling shed until she’s at least having to alter her gowns, but James can be very firm without even raising his voice.”

Thea’s tea tried to go down the wrong way. “House parties are much overrated, Nonie. I’ve told you this.”

Nonie popped a tea cake into her mouth—a pink one. “You can speak from experience, because your employers dragged you hither and yon while they made the rounds. Isn’t the gossip at least entertaining?”

No, it was not. Gossip was a weapon that could destroy a young lady overnight.

“Gossip might be entertaining to some, Nonie, but it’s nasty talk about people’s lives, and it serves no purpose.”

Another pink tea cake met its fate. “You should never have gone into service. You didn’t used to be so serious, Thea. You enjoyed a little gossip. You even flirted with Tim’s friends.”

“They were younger than I, and I thought it was harmless.” Tim’s friends had flirted with Thea, rather. She went to the door and signaled a footman to take the tea tray. “I’ll show you up to your room, Nonie. You have to be exhausted after all the excitement today.”

“I am,” Nonie said, wrapping two more tea cakes in a serviette and tucking them into a pocket. “Today has been a lovely day, Thea. Still, I wish you were a little more
in
love
with Anselm. He’s a good-looking fellow, if somewhat deficient in charm and overburdened with muscle.”

And Nonie had seen the duke only fully clad.

“That good-looking fellow is deserving of your humble gratitude, Antoinette Collins. He is making it possible for you to have the security of a decent match, rather than be parceled off to whichever of Tim’s friends he owes the most money to.”

Nonie halted in the middle of the stairs. “Is that what sent you on such a flight, Thea?”

Nonie was approaching the age at which Thea had accepted employment from Lady Bransom. She was so painfully young, and yet Nonie was no longer a child.

“Something like that, though Tims never overtly threatened me.”

“Threats are more effective when they’re subtle,” Nonie replied. “Every governess and tutor knows this.”

How had Nonie learned it?

“All’s well now,” Thea reminded her as they reached Nonie’s bedroom. “You’re enjoying your visit with James and Patience?”

Nonie wrapped her arms around Thea. “Oh, absolutely. Life has become quite lovely, Thea, and all thanks to your marriage. You’ll be happy with Anselm, won’t you? I couldn’t bear it if you weren’t.”

“I will be happy,” Thea said, her smile never faltering. She was a duchess, after all.

Nonie padded off to bed, and Thea took herself to her own room, there to bathe and retire without any sign of her husband. Hours later, she thought she heard the door between their dressing rooms creak open, then slowly close. She caught a whiff of Noah’s lavender-and-rose scent and anticipated the familiar sounds of him undressing, then washing.

But she waited, and waited, and still heard no Noah-going-to-bed sounds. His weight didn’t dip the mattress; his arms didn’t slide around her and pull her into the warmth of his body.

For the first time since their wedding, Thea tried to sleep through the night without her husband. Despite their differences and troubles, she was unable to banish a certain new and profound sense of loneliness caused by his absence.

Ten

“You are a traitor of the most shameless sort, to me, to your calling, and to your kind.” Noah lowered himself to Thea’s bed and passed a steaming cup of tea through Thea’s field of vision. “If you didn’t catch the occasional, and I do mean occasional, mouse, you would be relegated to the stables for the rest of your indolent days.”

“Tea.” A plea disguised as a groan. Noah was growing wise to his duchess’s habits.

“Good morning, Wife.” Noah leaned down to kiss her cheek. “You’ve allowed a trespasser into your bed.”

“We’re married.” Thea struggled to rise, her expression bewildered and grumpy. “It isn’t trespassing if we’re… Oh, aren’t you a
lovely
little kitty.”

“She’s two stone if she’s an ounce,” Noah groused. “One never sees her eating, though, because she subsists entirely on huge bowls of cream, which she charms Cook into leaving in conspicuous locations.”

Thea set the teacup aside after only a single sip. “What’s her name? She’s magnificent.”

“She’s a disgrace, and her name, accordingly, is Bathsheba. Evvie smuggled her in from the stables two years ago, a bedraggled, pitiful excuse for a kitten, and now
this
.”

Bathsheba, a glorious specimen of quintessential feline in long black fur and brilliant green eyes, squinted contentedly at Noah, then delicately licked the finger he extended toward her.

“We’ll shear you next spring, cat,” he threatened. “You’d better perfect your bleating.”

“She kept my feet warm,” Thea said, retrieving her teacup, “when a certain husband was absent from his proper location.”

Had Noah really expected Thea to let his absence go unremarked? Part of him was pleased she’d bring it up; another part of him was tired from a bad night’s rest.

“You weren’t supposed to mention that, Thea.” Noah took her teacup from her and appropriated a sip. “I was trying to be considerate of your exhaustion, and now you complain. I expect at least a touch of gratitude for my thoughtfulness.”

Though a touch of pique was acceptable too.

Thea gave the pillows a smack. “I expect the comfort of my husband’s nocturnal company.”

“You are entirely without civilities first thing in the day, aren’t you?”

“I was without my husband all night.” Thea sat back and appropriated her teacup, though it was now empty. “And you say this dear kitty is a disgrace. I like sleeping with you, Noah.”

This again.

“You won’t be sleeping with me tonight.” He rose to pour a second cup of tea from the service on the cart. He prepared it exactly to Thea’s liking—cream and a mere gesture of sugar—then propped himself at the foot of the bed, where he commenced petting his traitorous cat. “I’ve some business in the City, and I’m accompanying James and Patience back to Town.”

“Without your untrustworthy wife,” Thea muttered.

“Even were we in Town,” Noah said gently, “you would not accompany me to the solicitors’ offices, but if you’re determined to force the point, then you’re right: I do not want us socializing until certain matters have been resolved beyond doubt.”

Or a certain duke had found his balance with his duchess.

“I don’t blame you for your caution, Noah, but I’d like to look in on Tims. He can be difficult, and Mrs. Wren tends to dither and then the maids feud, so the footmen—”

Sibling anxiety Noah understood very well. “I’ll look in on dear Tims. You might have asked.”

Thea narrowed her gaze at him over her second cup, like a dragon might yawn and stretch outside her lair.

“
When
might I have asked? You’re telling me your plans only now, when you’re on your way to the very stables.”

Noah crawled up the mattress, past the cat, and settled in beside his wife at the head of the bed.

He held up a stocking-clad foot. “I’m not quite ready to ride away. I’d look silly saddling up without my boots, wouldn’t I?” He took Thea’s hand, while the cat sat at their feet and groomed her long black whiskers.

Thea closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the pillow. “I have a latent talent for bickering, and marriage has brought it to the fore. I am sorry.”

Another apology, a genuine, remorseful apology, and Noah resented Thea for being the first to offer one.

“You aren’t generally quarrelsome, Thea, or surely Marliss would have remarked upon this shortcoming. I really do have business in the City, and I frequently will. That’s part of the reason I typically summer here and not at one of my grander holdings. Harlan likes Wellspring, and I’m not far from Town.”

Or from his sisters, and their fellows.

“Patience said you thrive on your commerce.”

What else had Patience said? James might know, and he might not. “The family coffers thrive on commerce, but you are sworn to secrecy, of course.”

“Of course.”

Noah settled back on the pillows. “No one of significant standing must be seen to engage in trade, but in any given ballroom, I will be approached by no less than six gentlemen, some of whom outrank me, asking me if I’ve heard of any interesting opportunities lately, or if my man of business is available to meet with theirs. Perhaps I have a pound symbol painted onto my evening jackets.”

“And on your riding jackets when you hack in the park?”

“Yes.” Noah turned onto his side, the better to regard his duchess, to whom he was whining. “How badly was Hallowell bothering you?”

This had bothered him as he’d tossed and turned for hours in a cold, lonely bed.

Thea tugged the covers up a good half a foot. “Now who lacks civility first thing in the day?”

“I’m your husband,” Noah said quietly. “Tell me.”

Thea turned to her side too, so they faced each other. “He was getting worse, but I knew Marliss would soon marry, and my days in that household were limited. I resolved to be very cautious, and Marliss understood what was afoot.”

The conspiracies of women never failed to impress—and surprise—Noah. “Marliss?”

“You gentlemen often think you see
the
truth, when what you see is only
a
truth, and a version of it that you want to see.”

Noah rolled off the bed rather than wade into that verbal swamp. “I cannot argue that point in present company. Harlan will bide with you here. He hates Town unless his mates are about, in which case he loudly professes to love it.”

“What about you? Do you hate it?”

“I don’t…” What did it matter if Noah loved or loathed the crowded, stinking, hectic social cesspit that was Polite Society in Town? “I don’t hate it. One does what one must. You may reach me at the town house. I’ll take care of appointments this afternoon, have dinner with Wilson and Prudence, and likely ride out with Heath in the morning. For the sake of domestic tranquillity, I will break my fast with Penelope tomorrow, tend to more appointments, and likely be back here by late afternoon. You’ll manage?”

Thea gestured for Noah to pass her the wrapper hanging from the privacy screen. She flipped her braid out from the collar of the dressing gown in a gesture at once sensual and brisk.

“If you’ve no objection, Noah, I’d like to discuss the girls’ routine with their nursery maids, and maybe ride out with Harlan when the roads are dry. I’d also like to tour the vegetable garden, meet with the housekeeper, look in on Mr. Erikson, and so forth.”

“Erikson?” Noah poured wash water into the pot suspended from a swing on the hearth, and pushed it over the coals, then set Thea’s slippers by the side of the bed—pink slippers embroidered with white rosebuds. “What need have you of his company?”

“He’s a brilliant botanist.” Thea untangled herself from the bedclothes and made her way to the edge of the mattress. “His conservatory is a few doors away from two very curious little girls. I want to make sure they don’t pester him, unless he’s willing to be pestered, in which case I will suggest he turn their visits into botany lessons.”

“See that he isn’t willing to be pestered in any regard you’d come to regret, Thea.”

Noah’s comment should have merited him pursed lips, Thea’s chin in the air, and a mighty, wifely huff of indignation.

His duchess was apparently getting wise to his tricks.

She smiled wickedly and tossed a pillow at him. “Enjoy your appointments in Town, Husband, and don’t worry about us here. We’ll contrive without you somehow.”

The dragon was awake and ready for a serving of toasted duke. Noah considered stomping out in high dudgeon, stocking feet notwithstanding. He picked up the pillow, put it back on the bed, and wrapped his wife in his arms.

“You will behave,” he said as she bundled into his embrace. “I want no reports from the magistrate about my womenfolk when I return, no petty rebellions among the servants, no wild starts from my brother. The peace of my kingdom rests in your dainty paws, Wife.”

“Safe journey.” She kissed his cheek. “My regards to your sisters, Husband.”

* * *

“Running.” James gave the word a gratingly musical inflection as the horses plodded toward Town. “Run, run, running.”

“I’ve business in Town, the same as you,” Noah replied, “and Thea asked me to check in on her brother.” Well, she had, more or less.

“Grantley,” James said, humor disappearing. Their horses splashed along the mucky road for a few paces. “Not an impressive specimen, from what I’ve gathered.”

“The earl is young, but he worries my duchess, and I cannot have that.”

“So you’ll charge forth to vanquish her worries,” James surmised, “when she’d really rather have you toddling about underfoot at the castle.”

True took exception to a rabbit darting across the path, or to having an inattentive rider in the saddle.

“Being on the nest has curdled your meager store of brains, James. You’ve grown besotted with domesticity.”

The remainder of the journey into Town was a testament to how badly James had been longing for a child, for James’s conversation was sadly peppered with musings about how many names the baby might be reasonably given. He’d toss a crumb in the direction of business matters, then veer right back into whether Patience would be better served by a son or a daughter as their firstborn.

By the time Noah reached the City, he was relieved to be free of his brother-in-law’s company.

Though what would it be like, to be that enamored of one’s future, and one’s mate?

Noah dispatched with business matters, then turned True toward the outskirts of Mayfair. At midafternoon, Henrietta Whitlow would likely be rising from her bed.

Henny, and very possibly some lucky, toothsome, well-heeled fellow with her.

The thought should have given Noah a pang, for he liked Henny tremendously, but his reaction was curiously uninterested.

Henny was not uninterested in her former protector She welcomed Noah with kisses to both cheeks, then stepped back and gave him a stern look over folded arms.

“You mustn’t start presuming, Anselm. The bracelet was extravagant, but your privileges are at an end here. You know that.”

The male half of Polite Society had likely known it too. Noah tucked Henny’s hand over his arm.

“I would have humbly accepted the butler’s admonition that you were not home, my dear. I’m sorry I did not send a note.” Apologies weren’t that difficult, once a man had some practice with them.

“I am glad to see you in any case,” Henny allowed. “Join me for some tea.”

Henrietta Whitlow was a woman fashioned by male gods, on their scale, to their specifications for what was most desirable in a woman. With masses of flaming hair and big green eyes, she was majestic. Noah had always liked that she was shamelessly indulgent in all her appetites. Honestly indulgent.

“Tea would suit,” Noah said, particularly because tea with Henny meant sustenance as well.

“How is married life?” Henny asked as she slid gracefully into a padded wicker seat on her shaded back terrace.

“Trying,” Noah said, reluctant to embellish in any way that might reflect poorly on his wife. “I am not accustomed to being in double harness.”

“You aren’t.” Henny paused mid-reach for the teapot. “Do sit, Anselm. You’re more likely used to being the leader of a six-in-hand.”

Noah took the place opposite her, when for nearly a year, he’d taken the place right beside her. Thus did marriage reach into every corner of his life, though not as uncomfortably as he might have guessed.

“You’ve concluded I’m a poor candidate for marriage?” he asked.

“You have been head of your family for half your life, Anselm.” Henny poured him his tea and passed it to him. “You don’t realize how much time you spend picking up after Meech, checking on Harlan up at school, harrying your brothers-in-law on the subject of your sisters’ happiness. You’ll adjust to being married, but I don’t envy your duchess. Toast?”

Henny had forgotten Noah liked his tea with cream and sugar. A small oversight, but reassuring, because it implied her focus was no longer on him and hadn’t been for some time.

Thea would not have forgotten how Noah took his tea, not after three decades, much less three months.

“Toast with jam and butter,” Noah said, stirring his own sugar into his tea. “You’re faring well?”

“You didn’t believe Meech’s reports?”

“I have not seen my uncle since before my nuptials.” Noah hadn’t missed him either.

Henny ran a pale finger around the rim of her teacup, stirring a memory Noah couldn’t quite place.

“Meech is sniffing about, more so he can boast to Pemberton that he’s visited here than because he’s of a mind to take me on. I haven’t permitted him past the parlor, though I don’t find him egregiously offensive.”

She found Meech mildly offensive, then, as Noah occasionally did.

“Meech can’t afford you, Hen,” Noah said gently. “Not consistently.” Henny also deserved better than Meech, whose grasp of politics, international affairs, and literature paled compared to Henny’s.

“I do prefer consistency.” She reversed the direction of her finger circling the teacup’s rim. The gesture might once have appeared erotic, though Noah no longer found it so. “One man at a time is trouble enough, but I’m taking a repairing lease.”