The Duke's Reform (22 page)

     
‘You’re being ridiculous, sir. However, I shall bow to your position as head of
the household and follow your instructions. In future I shall expect you to be
downstairs at seven o'clock each morning to accompany me on my walk.'

      'A
hit direct, my love. I shall be delighted to come with you. I am also certain
the two outside men who must check the grounds before we go out will be equally
thrilled you wish to walk so early.' He grinned. 'I'm relieved I don't have to
thunder off to London today. My thigh is deucedly painful.'

'I'd quite forgotten you have an
injury. Indeed, you've been racing about these past days without the slightest
sign of a limp.'

He clutched his chest and fell back in his chair. 'I'm
in need of your loving care, sweetheart. See— I'm swooning.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Alexander. You're perfectly
well.' Her smile slipped, he did look a trifle pale. 'My dear, shall I fetch
Bill to take care of you?'

'Absolutely not!
I'm funning— my leg is sore, but
will be perfectly fine by tomorrow.'

      There
was little point in changing to dine so she spent a further delightful hour
discussing the high price of corn, the woeful provision for ex-servicemen and
whether it was now safe to tour the continent. When Bill came in to announce
dinner was served she could not remember having spent such a relaxed afternoon
with Alexander.

      After
dinner he smiled at him as he lounged at the table. 'Do you wish to remain on
your own to drink port? I warn you, I shall be retiring soon, so if you linger
long I won't be in the drawing-room when you come through.' Isobel had been
persuaded to drink a glass of champagne in
honour
of
the passing of her
abigail
. The unaccustomed alcohol
had quite gone to her head making her feel as skittish as a school-girl.

      'I've
had sufficient to drink, thank you, my dear. I've finished off the bottle— far
more than I normally have.'

      She
snorted inelegantly. 'Your
normal
intake, if I remember rightly, would
include three bottles of claret, port
and
a decanter of brandy. Heavens!
I would consider what you have imbibed this evening as a mere bagatelle.'

      Not remaining to
hear his reply she almost skipped through the communicating door into the
drawing-room. She was not unduly surprised to hear his chair crash back and to
see him right behind her.

      'I've changed,
sweetheart, I no longer drink
to excess nor do I gamble. I
am a reformed man in every way.'

      'I've come to a
decision, Alexander. The more I think about it the less I want
Mr
Bentley to have anything to do with Newcomb. Neither can
I, in all conscience, abandon this baby. You were quite right to point out
children need both parents in order to prosper.'

      His eyes
widened, he looked shocked. Did he not want her to remain? Then he was beside
her and before she could tell him to desist she was in his arms. She meant to push
him away, but her hands crept around his neck and buried themselves in his
hair.

      He drew back
before matters progressed to their inevitable conclusion. 'Darling, we can't
make love here. We must retire to your bedchamber.'

      Her lips glowed from
his kisses, every inch of her tingled from his touch, there was nothing she
would like more than to feel him inside her, to experience the ecstasy they'd
shared at the beginning of their marriage, but common sense returned. This was
not the time to let him get closer, and she wasn't certain such activities
would not be harmful to the baby.

 'No, Alexander, we must not do
this. I don't feel my pregnancy is secure enough to risk such vigorous activity
especially after the double shocks I've suffered today.'

At her words his
ardour
shrunk, the hectic colour along his cheekbones faded and his eyes returned to
their normal blue-grey. 'I've no wish to
jeopardise
the health of the child. I hadn't
realised
something
so pleasurable could be harmful.' He smiled ruefully. 'It's just I find you
damn near irresistible. I shall have to find other outlets for my energy.'

      'There's
something else I wish to tell you. If this baby is a boy then my role as your
true wife will be ended; I shall live here in the east wing, but not depart
from Newcomb entirely.'

      'And if it's a
girl?'

      She could not
look away. She was pinned like a butterfly on a board beneath his gaze. 'If our
child is female then I shall remain with you as your wife until you have your
son and heir.'

****

Alexander tried to school his features, not
show his elation for she might misinterpret his reaction and think it was
triumph, not joy. He knelt down beside her and took her hands within his own.
They were all but lost beneath his. 'Then, my darling, I shall pray every night
that this baby of ours is a girl.'

      'And I shall
pray for the opposite. I might never be able to produce another child, remember
we thought I was barren. I thought securing your title was everything to you?'

      Gently he raised
her fingers to his mouth and kissed each one in turn. 'No, Isobel,
you're
everything to me. I shall count myself a lucky man if we produce a dozen
daughters if it means that you remain as my loving wife.'

      Giggling she
snatched back her hands. Good grief! She was a trifle bosky. Would she have
committed herself if she had been entirely sober? He must pray she did not
recant in the morning. 'Come along, Isobel, I shall carry you up to bed. It
isn't
I
that has consumed too much alcohol tonight, but you, my love.'

      He left her in
the capable hands of her new maid and returned to the drawing-room to wait for
the coffee tray to arrive.
were
still aspects of
today's events he was not happy with
.
I
t
seemed odd these renegades should choose to burgle Newcomb in
broad daylight.

God's teeth! The men had known the
house would be empty, Jed would have mentioned the girl's funeral whilst he was
in the village and had, no doubt, told all and sundry that his master was allowing
the entire staff to attend. The vagabonds must have seen this as the perfect
opportunity. If Othello had not found them, God knows what might have happened.

      He stretched out
his legs on the day bed; Isobel's scent lingered on the upholstery and he
sniffed appreciatively. She was almost convinced he had become a man she could
love again, but he wanted to do something else, something tangible, to prove
his credentials as a loving and caring husband.

      When he
eventually retired he was sure he had the perfect solution. What he planned to
do for her would not only surprise her it would make her life at Newcomb more
enjoyable.

****

Something woke Isobel. Had Alexander changed
his mind, ignored her strictures to remain out of her bed? The all-too-familiar
heat spread from her toes to her fingertips. Despite her protestations she knew
she could not refuse him.

      'I should not be
here,
darling,
I promise I haven't come to importune
you. I've come to tell you what I plan to do next door.'

      'Could it not
wait until tomorrow? I can't think of anything that will make up to the fact
that you have woken me up in the middle of the night.'

      By this time he
was lighting candles and she had no option but to sit and listen to his
proposal. She was forced to admit her irritation was mainly because she was
disappointed he had not come to make love to her.

      'There, my dear.
Tomorrow I am going to move the kitchen at Newcomb so that in future you shall
have your meals served to you hot.'

Whatever she had expected him to
say, it had not been this. What an extraordinary conversation to be having at
midnight. 'Move a kitchen? It can't be done.
What about the
chimney, the scullery and all the other paraphernalia involved with preparing
food.
The kitchen was put where it was for a reason …'

      'I know what
this was, it was to make sure we had unpalatable and unpleasant food and that
all our staff ate better than us.'

      His playfulness was
infectious. 'In which case might it not be better for us to move into the
servants' quarters and for the servants to live in Newcomb proper?'

      'A sound idea,
my love, but I've a better one. I still have the drawings the architect made,
and have been perusing them these past hours. We have more rooms on the ground
floor than any sensible family could ever use, I doubt I've been into half of
them and I've lived here all my life.'

She yawned and was too late to
disguise it. 'Tell me tomorrow, Alexander. Go away now,

and
let me sleep.'

      In answer he
strolled across and sat on the edge of the bed. 'There's something else I wish
to tell you, darling girl, I’m irrevocably in love with you. No, don't protest,
I don't expect you to reciprocate my feelings, but I wanted you to know.' He
leaned down placing his hands on either side of her and his kiss was sweet and
loving. The ice around her heart finally melted.

 
Chapter Seventeen

'What kind of day is it today, Ellie? Do you think it will
be hot?'

      Isobel's
abigail
flung back the shutters letting the sunlight pour into the bed chamber. 'It's a
beautiful day, my lady, I reckon as his grace was right to delay your move back
into the main building until them April showers had gone.'

      'Have you seen the
improvements, Ellie? I've not been allowed to peep. Do you know, I've not felt
so excited since I was a small child waiting for my name
day.
'

      Her brow creased. Today was
in fact her anniversary and she would be one and twenty. Alexander had never
acknowledged her birthday. Indeed, she had no notion when
his
birthday
was, but he must be well into his thirties. What a ridiculous situation! How
could she have been married to a man without actually knowing how old he was?
High time this matter was cleared up.

      'I've not been in; no one has
apart from them that are working in there. That lot who came back from London
are the only ones who know what's been done.' The girl carefully placed the
tray on the bedside table. 'Shall I put out the pale green dimity, my lady?
The one with the pretty daisies sewn around the neck and hem?'

      Isobel stretched and the baby
protested by punching and kicking as if desperate to get out. The eminent
medical man who had come down from Town last month had assured her she was in
perfect health and that her hips were wide enough to produce the infant she was
carrying. Her delivery could not come soon enough. She felt like a brood mare
about to drop a foal. Maintaining any sort of normal activity was becoming
increasingly difficult. Alexander still

insisted on accompanying her on her early-morning promenade
even though the small band of renegades had long since been arrested, but even
this gentle stroll would soon become too much.

      Only a few more weeks and
then she would be holding her baby in her arms. What must take place in order
to produce this miracle she did not dwell
upon.
Mary
had told her what to expect as she had produced three stillborn infants in the
early days of her marriage.

      Alexander had been remarkably
elusive, spending all his days either overseeing whatever was going on next
door or about the estate. Regular reports were sent from Grosvenor Square by Mr
Bentley who, it would seem, was all but betrothed to one Miss Amelia
Workington, the pretty daughter of a minor aristocrat. The young man was to
visit with the family when the season was over but would not be returning to
take up residence in the east wing until the renovations and repairs were
completed.

      She no longer bothered to
wear a multitude of petticoats or silk stockings, she did not go about in
public and Alexander scarcely seemed aware of her nowadays. No, that was not
quite true. Every evening they dined together in perfect harmony, he was witty
and charming but treated her as if she was a sibling rather than his wife.

      'I shall get dressed
immediately, Ellie. I intend to demand to be taken next door. I shall eat my
breakfast on the terrace outside the breakfast parlour.' She smiled at her
maid. 'Tell Cook I shall eat nothing further until I am established in
Newcomb.'

      She stood tapping her foot in
her sitting room. Why was Alexander tardy? Every morning he came to escort her downstairs
as if she were a decrepit octogenarian not a healthy young woman with nothing
wrong with her. Admittedly having his arm to support her as she negotiated the
staircase was a boon. Pregnancy was making her decidedly unbalanced, as if she
might tip forward from the weight she carried in front of her.

      Eventually the door opened.
'My love, forgive me, you must have wondered where I was. Come, shall we go
down?' He drew her arm through his, his eyes tender. 'Being with child has made
you even more beautiful,
sweetheart,
every day I thank
God you came back to me.'

      Isobel returned his smile.
'And every day I begin to believe I made the right decision.'

      Downstairs the hall was
empty, the usual footmen absent, no sound of parlour maids. Good gracious! Even
her dogs were missing. Where was everybody this morning? He led her straight
outside, not pausing to ask if she wished to break her fast before her morning
walk.

      A thrill of excitement
rippled through her. 'Alexander, are we finally going next-door? I've been
beside myself with curiosity these past few weeks. Why have you chosen today?'

      'Why do you think, darling?'

      She pursed her lips and
glanced up at him. 'It's Mayday?
The first day of summer?'

      His free hand came round and
cupped her face, turning it towards him. 'No, you pea-goose, it's your name
day. I thought this the perfect time to surprise you.'

      Her feet stuck to the ground,
her eyes filled. 'I didn't think you knew, I can't tell you how much this means
to me, Alexander. I shall never forget today.'

      His eyes flashed and he
dipped his head, his lips covered hers in a kiss so sweet she wished it could
go on forever. He raised his head and kissed away her tears. 'I love you,
Isobel,
I hope one day you'll be able to reciprocate. Now, I
want to show you the changes I've made.'

      He guided her around the
corner of the building. A huge cheer from the assembled staff rocked her back
on her heels. They were all freshly garbed and waiting to greet her. To her
astonishment Mary, magnificent in navy blue bombazine, stepped forward and
curtsied formally.

'Welcome, your grace, I am
housekeeper here, Watkins at your service.'

      Then Bill resplendent in
black tailcoat was
beside
her bowing deeply. 'Welcome,
your grace, I am Brown, butler here, at your service. Allow me to present your
staff.'

      Isobel could scarcely believe
her eyes. Alexander had appointed
her own
dear staff
to run his enormous establishment. 'Thank you, Alexander, having my own people
in charge here is the best birthday gift you could have given me.' She could
hardly ask what he intended to do with Maynard and Foster, but as long as they
were not here she didn't care. They were both well past retirement age,
hopefully he had pensioned them off and she would never have to endure their
supercilious behaviour again.

      'My love, you haven't had
your birthday gift yet; I've more to show you. However, I am delighted you
approve of my selection. I want you to be happy here and I know you were not,
under the old regime.'

      Bill, keeping a commendably
straight face, introduced each of the footmen from senior to junior and there
were a prodigious amount of these. Mary did the same with the females. As each
one heard their name they bowed or curtsied appropriately and she nodded
regally, by the time she reached the front door she was biting her lips trying
to hold back her giggles.

      Alexander must have felt her
vibrating because he raised his eyebrows in a comical manner which was almost her
undoing. It would be most unkind to laugh when the
staff were
taking the matter so seriously; but the fact that she knew each one of them
already made the whole business risible. She was relieved to be escorted inside
leaving the servants to disperse behind her.

She breathed deeply trying to
control her amusement. The sweet scent of hothouse flowers filled her nostrils.
Everywhere she looked there were vases overflowing with beautiful blooms, it
lessened the austerity of the vast rectangular entrance hall, made it seem more
welcoming. 

Forgetting they had an interested
audience of several dozen she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.
The old Alexander would have pushed her away a look of distaste on his face
because she'd made a public display, but the new one laughed out loud and swung
her around like a child. What the poor baby thought of
all
this
she could not imagine, it must think its mother had run mad.

      'Darling girl, you haven't
seen everything. I want this to be the happiest day of your life, I want you to
remember the day you came of age as a turning point for both of us.' He gently
set her down but kept his arm around her waist in case she was disorientated by
his flamboyant

gesture
.

      'I shall keep flowers in the
hallway always, it makes such a difference. Perhaps you could commission some
studies of the grounds and they could hang in place of the gloomy portraits.'

      'I'll have you know, my girl,
you're casting aspersions on my ancestors and the ancestors of our children.'
He grinned and dropped a feather-light kiss on the end of her nose. 'But I
agree
,
they shall be banished to the east wing for
Bentley to appreciate.'

      'I am decidedly sharp set,
Alexander. May I have my breakfast now?' He looked quite dejected at her
suggestion; he obviously had further surprises awaiting her attention.
'However, I am quite happy to wait until you have shown me everything, as long
as you promise to sit down with me when we've finished.'

      Like a boy his expression
lightened and he almost whisked her off her feet as he took her down a
passageway she didn't believe she'd ever traversed before. 'Where are you
taking me this time?'

      'To see the new kitchens, and
other offices which are now fully functioning on this
floor.
The downstairs rooms have been given over to the staff. There's a separate hall
for the senior servants, a bathing room and an apartment for the butler.' He
grinned. 'I've also refurbished a neat house in the grounds for Mr and Mrs
Watkins.'

     
'How kind
of you to think of them.
They have always had to make do, apart from the
year they spent in the other cottage. I don't believe I've the energy to go
down and inspect all that, show me the new kitchens today and I shall see the
rest tomorrow.'

      The rooms that had been
converted were ideal for the purpose, having access to the cobbled backyard in
which the barnyard creatures were kept. No expense had been spared— a massive,
closed range had replaced the open fireplace and this would reduce the
temperature and the smoke which had always been a nuisance in the kitchen area.

      Finding Mrs
Boothroyd
, her own cook, in charge was no more than she
expected. What was a surprise were the numerous scullery maids, kitchen maids and
other minions the cook now had under her control. She prayed Alexander's faith
in her inexperienced staff would not be misplaced.

      'I am most impressed with the
changes, I can't credit how much you have done in the few weeks you've had at
your disposal. In future I shall eagerly anticipate my meals instead of
dreading them.' She gazed imploringly at him as her stomach gurgled loudly.
'Can I have my breakfast now, please, Alexander? I shall faint quite away if I
don't eat soon.'

      'Not quite yet, you might
have noticed they were getting it ready whilst we were observing them. I
believe we have a quarter of an hour at our disposal.'

      His arm once more encircled
her and she found herself back in the entrance hall and without a by your leave
he slid his second arm under her knees and carried her upstairs. Even he could
not have love-making on his mind, not at eight o'clock in the morning and her
the size of a heifer.

      'I can walk from here thank
you, my dear. Have you redecorated my apartment again, is that why we are
here?'

     
'Yes and
no, my love.
Contain your impatience for a few moments longer if you
please.'

      His arm was once more around
her and when she tried to turn into her old apartment she was whisked on her
way and he did not stop until they were at the rear of the house. This was the
part of Newcomb that abutted the east wing in which she had been living. Why
had he brought her here? As far as she could
recall there
were
a series of dreary and unwanted chambers in this wing, rooms used
for accommodating such people as governesses or companions.

      'Here we are, sweetheart.
This is your name day gift from me.' He flung open the door he stopped beside
and stepped away her to see.

      Her mouth opened. It was a
transformation. Instead of an unloved guest chamber she saw a perfect lady's
boudoir. Two rooms had been made into one, an arch the only indication there
had once been anything else but this beautiful sitting-room.

      The furniture was exquisite,
she recognized the pieces as that of Chippendale but until this moment she'd
only seen drawings of such items in
La Belle Assemblée
and
Ackerman's
Repository
. The walls were freshly papered— she loved the pale green and
gold stripes and the carpet was patterned in similar colours.

      'I love it, how did you
achieve this without recourse to asking me my taste? The day bed and armchairs
match the curtains— green and gold are my favourite colours. I don't remember
telling you that.' She was too overwhelmed to continue. Shaking her head in
disbelief she walked from item to item, running her hands along the smooth
surfaces in delight.

      Ellie appeared from the door
that led into the bedroom. The girl was bouncing with excitement. 'Oh, my lady,
you'll never guess what you have through here.'

      Isobel wandered in a happy
daze to see what other wonders he had provided. The bedroom was as superb as
the sitting-room, the dressing room and closets everything they should be, but
the room that had caused her
abigail
so much excitement
was a genuine bathing room. She had heard about such places but never thought
to own one for herself.