The Irish Duke (12 page)

Rachel touched Louisa’s wet cheekbone with a tiny finger. They both turned as the door opened and their mother arrived.

“I’ve arranged that dinner be put back to seven to accommodate the hunters.”

“I think I’ll eat with Rachel tonight,” Louisa announced. “I’ll enjoy bathing her and putting her to bed. I don’t spend nearly enough time with her.”

“Thank you, darling. I’ll have a tray sent up for you. It will give me more time to entertain our guests. Just make sure you don’t undermine Nanny’s rules.”

“Wave bye-bye to Mama. Now, what shall we do?”

“Dobbin!”

Louisa carried her over to her rocking horse and set her down on its back. Rachel swayed back and forth, rocking faster and faster, chortling with glee. When the maid arrived with the food, Rachel refused to get off the horse.

“Let’s have a tea party,” Louisa suggested. “We can invite your dolls and your bunny rabbit.”

“And Cracknut!” Rachel climbed off the horse and ran to her dollhouse, which was a replica of a castle. She pulled out a stuffed animal that resembled a dormouse.

“That’s her favorite doll,” Nanny said.

Louisa stared at the tattered animal that had been patched over and over with new material. “This used to be mine.”

“Mine!” Rachel asserted possessively.

“Yes, darling, Cracknut belongs to you. Sit her down at the table and I’ll bring your other guests.” Louisa sat the dolls and the rabbit in miniature chairs and her little sister did the same with the dormouse. Rachel took her own small chair and Louisa sat down on the floor. The child refused to wear a bib until her big sister agreed to wear one.

Louisa’s stomach balked at the thought of food, but to encourage Rachel she pretended to enjoy the soup and a small portion of cheese soufflé. When Rachel took the carrots from her plate and gave them to her rabbit, it brought a smile to Louisa’s lips. “Bunny rabbit can only eat imaginary carrots.
You
have to eat the real ones.”

Rachel turned up her nose.

“Carrots are magic. Little girls who eat carrots can see in the dark.”
I shouldn’t tell her lies. She’s so sweet and innocent; she’ll believe anything I say.
Louisa’s thoughts began to stray to the scene she had witnessed earlier.
Innocence is precious. Life’s sordid reality will intrude all too soon
—e
specially if Bessy spreads her ugly suspicions about baby Rachel.
She vowed to spend more time with her little sister and do everything she could to shield her from gossip.

After Rachel ate a raspberry tart and drank her milk, Louisa read her a story. Then she bathed her in a tin tub before the fire and put on her nightdress. She picked her up and held the child in her arms, pressed against her heart. She sang a lullaby and rocked Rachel until she drifted off to sleep. As she laid her in her bed and covered her up, she whispered, “Sweet dreams, darling. If I ever have a little girl, I want her to be exactly like you.” Again Abercorn intruded into her thoughts, but she quickly banished him.

Louisa returned to her own bedchamber and stood gazing out into the darkness with unseeing eyes. She vowed that she would not think ill of Georgy.
I mustn’t let her know what I saw.
But she knew that a few more of her illusions had been shattered.
Perhaps there is no such thing as love . . . mayhap it is a fanciful illusion. From what I’ve seen, lust is the compelling force that rules men’s lives.

Suddenly she heard a man’s deep voice from the adjoining bedchamber. She hadn’t heard the words, but she sensed that it was Abercorn in her sister’s room. She hurried across to the door and put her ear against it.

“James! Thank you for keeping your promise to return my diamonds.”

“Are you all right, Georgy?”

“Swear you will never tell anyone what happened at the lake?”

“You have my word of honor.”

Louisa closed her eyes as a wave of anguish swept over her.
Honor? You have no honor, you lecherous Irish swine!

“F
ather, if I’m going to be elected as the Member for Horsham, I warrant I’d better start campaigning.” Teddy Fox wanted to get away from Woburn. Abercorn’s presence made him uncomfortable, and if his parents learned of his intimate encounter with Georgy Russell, they would expect him to make an offer for her.

“I think that’s a sound idea,” Lord Holland agreed. “The Tories may already have someone running for the seat. In the past I’ve bought ale from William King, who owns a brewery in Horsham. If we get King and his employees stumping for us, it’s in the bag. You’ll need to be a resident of West Sussex. I’ll come along and lease a house for you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll go and start packing. Edward is coming to canvass with me.”

 

James Hamilton sought out the Duke of Bedford in the library. “I want to thank you for your generous hospitality, Your Grace. Much as I would enjoy spending the entire summer at Woburn, I have plans to visit Ireland before I return to Oxford. I promised to take my younger brother Claud to Barons Court. He has a consuming interest in politics. His ambition is to become a Member of Parliament for County Tyrone.”

“A
Tory
Member, no doubt,” Bedford teased.

“I’m afraid so, Your Grace. It’s in the Hamilton tradition.”

“James, I extend an open invitation. You are welcome at Woburn anytime.”

When Abercorn took his leave of the Duchess of Bedford, Georgy and Louisa were present. Both girls were relieved that he was departing, though for very different reasons.

“James, I hope you enjoyed your first visit to Woburn and devoutly hope that it won’t be your last. You have been a perfect guest. Not only did you make lifelong friends with the duke and Lord John, you gave my daughter her first kiss.”

Louisa felt her cheeks burn. She wished the floor would open up and swallow her. “Mother, a kiss is such an insignificant trifle.”
Compared to the things your perfect guest has been doing with your other daughter.

“Ah yes, but a lady always remembers her
first
kiss,” the duchess insisted. “My husband tells me you’re off to Ireland. I have such fond memories of the time I spent there as vice queen.” Georgina laughed. “That sounds so deliciously wicked.”

Abercorn kissed her hand. “I deeply appreciate your generous hospitality.”

“I shall expect to see you in London at my daughters’ debutante ball in September, and you must bring your brother Claud. Until then, I shall bid you
au revoir
and Godspeed on your journey.”

He bowed politely and withdrew to bid his friend Charles good-bye.

“Why on earth did you invite him to our debutante ball?” Louisa demanded.

“Darling, we will need all the bachelors we can get. Two of them are departing today. That leaves only George Grey to practice your feminine wiles on.” She gave her daughter a look of speculation. “You must admit that James is handsome.”

Lu darted a glance at Georgy. “Yes.
Sinfully
handsome.”

The following day, the Russell family and their guests were enjoying brunch on one of Woburn Abbey’s shaded verandas. The Duke of Clarence had just been served with a brace of partridge he had bagged in the shoot that had been arranged in his honor. He hadn’t taken more than a few appreciative mouthfuls when Mr. Burke appeared with a courier in tow. The man was wearing royal livery.

The messenger bowed to the prince and handed him a missive.

Clarence tore it open and read the letter. His face, usually florid, turned ashen.

John Russell knew something untoward had happened. “Is it bad news, William?”

“I’m afraid it is.” The Duke of Clarence hesitated. “My brother—the king—has suffered an apoplexy. He is gravely ill. I’ve been summoned to Windsor without delay.”

“Oh, my dear, we must pack and leave immediately.” Princess Adelaide wrung her hands in distress.

John instructed Jack to have William and Adelaide’s carriage made ready.

“I shall have my maids assist you, my dearest Adelaide.” Georgina added, “And I’ll have a hamper of partridges packed for your journey.”

After Georgina had instructed her servants and her daughters to help the Duchess of Clarence prepare for her journey to Windsor, she took the courier to Woburn’s kitchen and plied him with food and drink. She was a man’s woman and prided herself on being able to loosen the tongue of any male breathing.

“I am so sorry you were given the dreadful task of delivering bad news to the Duke of Clarence. These difficult duties are always assigned to those who are the most worthy of trust. The king—dear Prinny—has been an intimate friend of mine all my life. Do you believe he will recover from this cruel attack he has suffered?”

The messenger finished his ale and bent toward her confidentially. “Under the circumstances, Your Grace, that would be impossible.”

She refilled his tankard and set another roast partridge before him. “Eat up, my friend. This is likely the last meal you will get today.”

Georgina went directly to her husband. “I believe George is already dead.”

“If you are correct, my dear, we have just entertained the new king and queen of England.”

Discreetly, Georgina passed along the momentous news she had gleaned to her children and her guests. By the time the Duke and Duchess of Clarence descended the stairs, the company was gathered in Woburn’s main foyer to bow low and bid a respectful adieu to the royal couple who were now in actuality the reigning king and queen of England.

Within the hour the Duke of Bedford, Lord John, and Earl Grey were conferring in the library.

“If what we believe is true and King George is actually dead, it means an automatic election,” the duke declared.

Lord John nodded. “Now is our chance to put the Whigs in power.”

“We’ve all supported Wellington and his Tories, but all that must change now. We must strike while the iron is hot.” Earl Grey, who had sat in Parliament since he was twenty-two, cleared his throat. “If I run for prime minister, can I count on your support, gentlemen?”

“Absolutely,” Bedford agreed.

“Because the Whigs support reform, we stand an excellent chance of winning.” Johnny Russell was convinced they must seize the moment.

“Too bad our friend Henry and his son left yesterday. I’ll write him a letter and dispatch a messenger immediately,” the duke decided.

The Russell ladies, Lady Holland, and Lady Grey repaired to the blue drawing room. They were all politically savvy, and the Duchess of Bedford, as the leading Whig hostess, realized that King George’s death could put their party in power.

“Though we must all regret poor Prinny’s demise, fortune has indeed smiled upon us. The close relationship we forged over the last few days with King William and Queen Adelaide is bound to reap us rewards.” Georgina poured wine for everyone.

Mary Grey leaned forward. “I tell you this in confidence, ladies. My husband has entertained ambitions to become prime minister for some time. Now, out of the blue, an election will be called.”

Lady Holland could not suppress her excitement. “If the Whigs win the election and Teddy wins the seat from Horsham, both my husband and son will be majority Members of Parliament.”

“And it cannot hurt that they will be close friends of both the prime minister and King William,” Georgina added.

“Johnny’s standing will rise considerably,” Louisa pointed out happily. “He will stand a very good chance of getting the reform bill passed.”

Georgy listened to the ladies’ congratulatory chatter with a look of angry disbelief. “What about me?” she demanded. “Prinny’s demise will throw the Court into mourning. Once again my season will have to be postponed because someone died!”

“It is dreadfully inconvenient, darling,” her mother said with sympathy. “The Court will observe a formal mourning period, but I warrant the
ton
won’t forgo balls and entertainments longer than three months. The coronation of the new king and queen won’t likely take place until next spring. But only think . . . after that you will be able to attend Queen Adelaide’s drawing rooms at St. James’s Palace. When it becomes known that you are a personal friend of the queen, suitors will absolutely fawn on you.”

Somewhat mollified, Georgy lowered her voice and spoke to her sister. “We’ll be going to King George’s funeral. I’ll get to see Teddy Fox again.”

“Teddy? I thought you had set your cap for James Hamilton,” Louisa said coolly.

Georgy tossed her head. “My only interest in Hamilton was getting my diamonds back.”

Louisa’s heart skipped a beat.
Damn you to hellfire, Abercorn!

 

Damn you to hellfire, Aberdeen! This estate belongs to me, thanks to my grandfather.
James Hamilton rode into the courtyard of Bentley Priory at Stanmore on the outskirts of London. His stepfather had treated the priory as if he owned it, turning it into a gathering place for Tory politicians
. I shouldn’t feel resentment. At least it provides my mother with a lovely home.