Two Notorious Dukes (15 page)

Robert had to read the letter three times, before
he could believe that she’d said yes. Even though the
brightly coloured front page should have left him in no
doubt. He ran back to the breakfast room, but it was
empty. He flew up the stairs like a demented idiot and
literally hammered on the door of his Grandmother’s
suite. The maid opened the door with alacrity and
Robert burst into the parlour.

His Grandmother looked at him with haughty
disdain. ‘Is there a good reason that you hammered
down my door and frightened poor Francine to death?’

Robert tried to be contrite, even though he was
hopping from one foot to the other, but she maintained
her icy exterior. She knew what he was going to tell her,
it was written all over his face. He was almost irradiated
with joy!

‘I’m sorry Nana, but I have some good news for
you.’
‘Really? Has the Prince Regent lost his mind like
his father?’ she asked impertinently. ‘Or has Napoleon
dropped dead!?’ She laughed at his expression. ‘I’m
sorry. What’s your news?’ she asked politely.
‘I’m getting married!’ burst out of him like a
geyser as he threw himself to his knees and buried his
face in her lap. She sat quietly and stroked his head as
his shoulders heaved and he sobbed with the emotions
coursing through him.
‘I am very happy for you both.’ She said softly.
‘Maybe I’ll get some more great grandchildren to dandle
on my knee, before I go. And the house of Roding might
be saved after all.’
He sat back on his heels and wiped the tears
from his eyes. ‘It would have been saved anyway Nana.
I’d reached the stage where I was telling myself it had to
be done, but I never envisioned myself falling in love
with someone.’ He looked up at her and her heart
nearly broke with the expression on his face. ‘I thought I
would have to accept one of the debutantes sooner or
later and prayed that I could give her a child. But I
suppose at that point it wouldn’t matter if it was mine,
only that it had my name.’
‘I’m very happy for you and Elizabeth, and if
you’ve been tupping her, then in all likelihood she could
already be pregnant.’ She smiled benevolently. ‘So you
should get your business finished here and get off back
to London, where you can marry her as soon as you
like.’
‘I would marry her tomorrow, Nana, but she’s
not in London, she’s at Boscombe Manor with Johnny
Argyll.’
‘Is that because of Craanford?’ she asked
insightfully.
‘Yes.’ He admitted. ‘She wasn’t safe in London,
and she won’t be until I have the ring on her finger and
have added the title to her name.’
‘Then don’t waste a moment.’ She said and he
gave her his best rakish smile. ‘Be off with you, Robbie!’

Two weeks later Elizabeth awoke lazily in his
room. Mary bustled in, knowing her mistress was in the
Master suite, organising the bath behind the screen that
had been moved in from another room. She got the
maid’s organised and then she went to see to Elizabeth
and open some curtains.

‘Good morning, Lady Elizabeth.’ She said politely
and swished the curtains from across the window.
Suddenly the sun blazed into the room and Elizabeth
squinted at the bright light. Mary turned to the bed and
looked at Elizabeth with a ready smile. ‘Oh! My Lady,
you look so pale this morning, do you feel all right?’
Mary asked solicitously.

‘Come to think of it, no. Not really. I feel a little
queasy, as if something I ate yesterday didn’t agree with
me.’ Elizabeth said and frowned. ‘In fact, I feel very
sick.’ She said and lurched out of bed, managing to
reach the porcelain wash stand before the hot acrid
contents of her stomach erupted from her throat.

Mary was all business and a hot, wet flannel was
washed over Elizabeth’s face. Mary hustled her back to
the bed and made her sit down, before she fell as her
legs were trembling. ‘Gosh, I feel as weak as a kitten!’
she said and laughed nervously. Mary handed her a cup
of tea.

‘Try some tea, Countess; it could just be that
your stomach is empty.’ Mary said offering a cup of tea.
‘Yes, thank you, Mary.’ She sat calmly on the
edge of the bed and sipped the hot beverage as her
mind roved over what she ate the day before. ‘Do you
know if anyone else is sick this morning?’
‘No, My Lady. I’ve not heard a sausage.’ Mary
bustled out with the porcelain dish from the wash stand
and the maids finished with the bath.
Elizabeth finished her tea and felt stronger, so
she went behind the screen, stripped off her nightgown
and plunged her body into the hot water. She loosened
the plait in her hair and, getting on her knees, she
dunked her hair in the clean water. She picked up the
dark amber lozenge of Pear’s soap and started to lather
her hair. She knew that Mary would come back to help
her so she concentrated on getting the top of her head
done. Her eyes were looking down her body without
really seeing, until suddenly the colour of her nipples
caught her eye. They were darker than normal. A deep
dusky pink, instead of a coral pink and the milk ducts
looked distended. She swished her hand in the water
and inspected her nipples thoroughly and suddenly she
knew why she’d been sick. The signs were
unmistakeable. She continued to absently wash her
hair, as she counted back to her last course. She was
late, very late and as she thought about it, she should
have had her menses the week after Robert left for
Roding Hall.
She felt and overwhelming urge to scream and
shout, dance around the room and jump for joy. She
started to laugh and then she cried and that’s when
Mary returned and Elizabeth clamped down on her
emotions and concentrated on her hair.
‘There must be an easier way of doing this?’
Elizabeth said irrationally. ‘It takes an eternity to get the
soap out.’ She said and then plunged her head under
the water as Mary swished the tresses around to flush
out the soap. Using a jug or two of fresh water, one with
some vinegar in, Mary rinsed her hair until it squeaked
and then wrapped it in a towel for Elizabeth to finish her
bath.
She lay back in the water and contemplated her
condition.
I’m Pregnant!
She almost gloated over it.
I
am enceinte! With child! In colloquial parlance I’m up
the stick or I have a bun in the oven!
She tried to
smother the laugh that erupted from her throat, but
couldn’t.
Oh! Robert, my love. You’re going to be a
father and we shall have many children. All sons if I can!
She got on with soaping her body and then Mary was
there with the jug to rinse her off.
She could not hide the joy in her face, or the
bloom of her condition. Mary already suspected she
was with child and this morning’s vomiting just
confirmed it for her. She had seen Elizabeth start and
lose three babies and she knew that this time, Elizabeth
would be very careful, even though she didn’t have a
brute of a husband to come home and kick her all
around the house because he didn’t like her news.
‘I’m very happy for you, Lady Elizabeth.’ She
murmured as she held a towel out.
Elizabeth looked up sharply and almost lost her
balance as she was stepping out of the tub. Mary
grabbed her arm to steady her. ‘Sorry, My Lady. I
shouldn’t have said that until after you were out of the
bath.’ Mary said chastened by almost causing her
mistress to fall. She briskly wrapped the towel around
Elizabeth and ordered the maids in to empty the bath.
‘How did you know?’ Elizabeth whispered when
she was at the bed.
Mary gave a small knowing smile. ‘You forget,
My Lady, I’ve seen it three times already, so I know.’
‘How long have you known?’ Elizabeth asked still
whispering. Mary took another towel and started to rub
Elizabeth’s feet and legs.
‘I think I first suspected on Tuesday, when you
looked quite pale and then when you fainted on the
terrace, I was certain.’ She smiled. ‘I tried not to laugh
when the Duke asked if he should get you a doctor.’
‘I’ll need to see one soon, but I don’t think I need
one just yet. It’s not as if I don’t know what will happen
over the next few months.’
‘Yes, My Lady. But just remember what Surgeon
Adams told you the last time, no riding.’ She sighed.
‘Just a stroll in the morning, you’re not to tax yourself.’
‘Mary, you’re fussing.’ Elizabeth said firmly. ‘I
promise not to ride, but other than that I won’t change
anything.’
She finished drying herself and started dressing
in the clothes Mary laid out for her. She carefully pulled
on her chemise and tied the ribbons at the top. She
stood looking at the stays and then picked it up,
manoeuvring the small garment across her back and
around her breasts. Mary helped position it correctly
and started to tighten the lacings. ‘I didn’t think you
would wear your stays until the heat broke, My Lady?’
Mary ventured.
‘It seems prudent to wear them now. My breasts
are going to get heavy both during and after pregnancy.
I think it’s best to support them from the start.’ She
looked at the abbreviated corset in the mirror. ‘Just
don’t pull the laces too tight. I still would like to be able
to breath.’ She slipped her stocking on and adjusted the
garters until they were comfortable.
Mary fetched a very pretty petticoat out of the
drawer and Elizabeth nodded resignedly. ‘I suppose if I
must.’ She said and Mary helped lift it over her head.
Her ensemble was finished with a fine lawn top dress,
which was split down the front to display the petticoat,
in a pale lemon. Mary pinned her hair up, leaving most
of it free to dry and Elizabeth put on her shoes and went
down to breakfast.

John Argyll, Duke of Goring, was quite aware
how difficult it was for him, to be in this house almost
alone with Elizabeth, Countess of Craanford. He had
made Mrs. Simmons aware of his discomfort on the first
morning after his mother took Sarah back to London. He
could imagine them up to their armpits in lace and
finery, visiting every couturiére in London for the right
gown and accessories. He shuddered at the thought and
was glad he was here for the moment. Mrs. Simmons
had ordered one of the footmen to be with Lady
Elizabeth and the Duke at all times. It was probably
unnecessary as Elizabeth’s maid, Mary was always sat in
the corner, sewing.

Elizabeth breezed through the door with a bright
‘Good Morning!’ for him. She was dressed in a pale
lemon gown of exquisite cut, which highlighted the rich
colour of her hair. She sat gracefully in her place as Mrs.
Simmons laid a plate in front of her.

‘Just some toast, please Mrs. Simmons.’ She said
as she eyed the huge platters of fried food.
‘Does your Ladyship not feel well?’ Mrs.
Simmons asked.
‘I feel fine, Mrs. Simmons, but I don’t fancy a
huge breakfast this morning.’ She helped her herself to
tea and Argyll watched her from the other side of the
table. She was positively gleaming with good health. Her
cheeks were rosy, her eyes were clear and bright and
her hair shone in the sun filtering through the window.
She also had a small secret smile on her face. Argyll had
never seen a smile like that on a woman’s face before
and he wondered what portent it foretold. He cleared
his throat.
‘I’ve had a letter from Robbie this morning.’ He
said as an opening gambit. She looked up at him and he
could see the joy radiate from her.
‘What did it say?’ she asked excitedly.
‘He has released me from my promise and told
me to go to London.’ He said evenly. ‘I must admit that
there are issues I need to address at home, but I’m
prepared to stay if you want me to.’ Argyll said softly.
‘He included a note for you.’ he said and handed over a
letter.
Elizabeth broke the seal and opened it at the
table. She couldn’t afford to waste time, she wanted to
know what it said now!

I’ve released Johnny from his promise.
I would still wish you to stay and wait for me to
return, but I understand that there will be many things
to attend to and as we both wish for a speedy ceremony,
I think you are right and you should go with Johnny.

‘It would appear he doesn’t object to me
accompanying you either.’ She smiled up at Argyll.
‘Good, because I can’t organise anything from here. Not
even a veil for my head.’ She returned her attention to
the letter.

My Grandmother is excited that you accepted my
proposal and she is impatient for me to get on with it.
She nags me daily about when I’m going back to
London. So I will be in London by the 24
^th
and then I’ll be
able to tackle our wedding.

Our Wedding. It makes me smile just to think
about it. I’ll be able to call you the Duchess of Roding
then.

‘Robert is going to be in London by the 24
^th
.’ She
said and looked up at Argyll to see him looking at her
strangely. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I was going to ask you the same thing.’ He said
and frowned. ‘You fainted on the terrace the other
afternoon and now you look the picture of health, but
you only want toast for breakfast?’

I did too!
She thought.
God! It was the most
embarrassing moment of my life!
She had just sat down
in a chair, luckily. He legs felt wobbly before she sat and
then the world just darkened around the edges and she
was falling out of the chair and John was holding her
and calling for Mrs. Simmons.

‘What are you implying?’ Elizabeth asked rather
haughtily.
‘I don’t think I’m implying anything.’ Argyll said
with a laugh, ‘but when a woman smiles secretly, she
has something important to tell the man in her life!’
‘Possibly I do. Maybe it’s the fact that I love him
and don’t quite know why.’ She said steering him away
from her health. ‘Isn’t that how you feel about Sarah?’
she asked.
‘Yes, and I probably never will understand why I
love her, I just know that I do.’
‘Then we are the same.’ She smiled. ‘Put my
good health down to Robert.’