Read The Irish Duke Page 7


  Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof,

  Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,

  Have in these parts from morn till even fought

  And sheathed their swords for lack of argument.

  Dishonor not your mothers. Now attest

  That those whom you called fathers did beget you.

  Be copy now to men of grosser blood,

  And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,

  Whose limbs were made in England, show us here

  The mettle of your pasture. Let us swear

  That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not,

  For there is none of you so mean and base

  That hath not noble luster in your eyes.

  I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,

  Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot.

  Follow your spirit, and upon this charge

  Cry, ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’ ”

  A moment of awed silence was followed by deafening applause and shouts of “God for Harry, England, and Saint George!”

  Johnny took a bow and the curtains closed. He left the stage and seated himself beside Abercorn amid rousing congratulations from the entire assembly.

  Georgy took her place at the harpsichord and waited until the noise died down. She held her fingers above the keys and then brought them down in one loud chord.

  The curtains swung open to reveal Lady Louisa affecting a dramatic pose. Her dark hair was pulled back smoothly, and a large crimson rose was pinned above one ear. She wore a flowing skirt and red silk shawl, and carried a black lace fan that concealed her face below her eyes.

  Everyone drew in a swift breath of appreciation as the staccato music began and she raised her hands above her head, clicking the castanets in perfect rhythm to the pounding notes. Her red skirts billowed out, revealing black silk stockings and stiletto- heeled shoes. She danced a perfect paso doble, stamping her heels in quick tempo as the music pulsed and reverberated around the audience. The haughty, dramatic look on her face befitted a proud Spaniard. Her performance was theatrical, vivid, and striking. At the end, when she twirled her shawl, the illusion of the bull was tangible.

  The applause was deafening as Louisa took her bows and cries of “Brava!” went up in the theater.

  “She has a marvelous talent,” Johnny declared.

  “Yes, she’s incomparable,” Abercorn agreed. “Someday I intend to make her my wife.”

  Chapter Five

  The affable Duke of Clarence sat quaffing claret in Woburn’s library in the company of his host and a crowd of male guests.

  John Russell signaled his son Jack, who spoke up on cue. “We have arranged a hunt tomorrow in your honor, Your Highness. The pheasants are particularly plentiful this year. There will be no need to beat the bushes—the dogs will flush them out. You won’t get better shooting in all of England.”

  “Splendid! I was hoping for a game shoot and brought along my guns, just in case.”

  “Jack has agreed to help me manage the estate. For our many friends who come to Woburn for the game, my son has agreed to organize all the hunts from now on.”

  “You are indeed lucky to have such fine sons, Bedford. You are blessed.”

  Abercorn kept a straight face, though inwardly he was amused. The king’s brother had sons aplenty, albeit illegitimate. He had fathered five sons with the Irish actress Dorothea Jordan, who all bore the surname FitzClarence.

  Once the Duke of Clarence had been fortified with wine and mollified with the promise of a good hunt, John Russell brought up the subject of his son’s ambitions for a naval career. “Now that Edward has completed his studies at Oxford, all he talks about is joining the military. I told him he could seek no better advice than yours, William. No man breathing is more informed about the navy than the former Admiral of the Fleet.”

  Abercorn was amazed at how adroitly Bedford handled the Royal Duke. With a combination of charm, flattery, and familiarity, he induced Clarence to use his influence and put in a word for Edward at the Admiralty, which would ensure a plumb naval commission. Edward is extremely fortunate to have John Russell for a father. My stepfather, Aberdeen, is so dour and abrasive that he offends everyone he deals with.

  Bedford refilled Clarence’s glass. “Drink up, William. It will fortify you against the impromptu ball the ladies have planned for this evening.”

  In the Venetian drawing room, the ladies were regaling Princess Adelaide about the birthday ball they were holding that evening.

  “Oh, I simply love to dance,” Adelaide admitted, “but I’m not sure I brought a suitable ball gown.” She put her hand up to her hair, rather self-consciously.

  “Nonsense, Your Highness. We are completely informal here in the country. We don’t wear Parisian fashions at Woburn, I assure you. And if you like, I’ll have my maid do your hair in the latest style,” Georgina suggested.

  “Princess Adelaide, you have such lovely thick, shining hair,” Louisa declared. “If it were fashioned into large curls and pinned up high with glittering ornaments, it would be extremely flattering.”

  “I shall take your advice, my dear. I find it decidedly pleasant to be surrounded by young people. It makes me feel alive,” she confided.

  Lady Sophia hurried into Louisa’s bedchamber. “I hear the pipers and the violins. I don’t want to be late for the dancing. Will you help me fasten my gown, please?”

  Georgy threw her sister a look of disgust. “I told you our dresses were out of style, Lu. Slim empire gowns are decidedly old-fashioned. Waists are back to their natural place, and everyone in London is wearing full skirts and puffed-out sleeves.”

  “It won’t matter tonight, Georgy. The young men from Oxford won’t know what the latest styles are,” Louisa assured her. “Mother will have new gowns made for us before we make our debut. She’s very fashion conscious.”

  “We have only three bachelors to partner us tonight, Sophia, so please don’t push yourself forward and take advantage. You’ll have to seek a husband elsewhere.”

  “Georgy, I’m not husband hunting. As a matter of fact, I’m being courted.”

  Georgy’s mouth fell open. “By whom?” she demanded.

  Sophia blushed. “His name is Thomas . . . Lord Thomas Cecil.”

  “I believe Cecil’s brother is the Marquis of Exeter,” Louisa declared.

  “Damn and blast! I must be the only twenty-year-old in England without prospects!”

  “The night is young—you may very well have prospects before the ball is over.”

  The musicians had finished tuning their instruments by the time the three young ladies arrived in the ballroom. All the married ladies had their husbands in tow. When Georgina arrived with the duke and saw that the bachelors were conspicuous by their absence, she lost no time in going below and rounding them up. She herded them to the third floor and signaled the musicians.

  The first dance was a quadrille, and when Teddy Fox asked Georgy to partner him, she was eager to comply. Then Abercorn bowed before Princess Adelaide. She bestowed a radiant smile of thanks upon him and tripped forth as lightly as a girl.

  George Grey partnered Lady Sophia, and Johnny clasped Louisa’s hand and led her onto the floor. Lu wasn’t embarrassed that her brother partnered her. He was one of the few males with whom she felt comfortable. These four couples formed the first square and went through the eight intricate figures that made up the dance. By the time the quadrille was over, the ice had been broken and everyone was laughing.

  Georgina announced that a mazey dance would be next. Teddy Fox bowed before Louisa. “Would you guide me through this one? I’m not sure of the steps.”

  She smiled at him. “Everyone gets mixed up in this one, though it’s simple enough. The ladies and gentlemen form two lines facing one another. Then the top couple raises their arms to form an arch and the other couples dance beneath it.”

  The dance went smoothly enough until G
eorge Grey, who was partnering Georgy, forgot it was their turn to form the arch and the entire thing became a muddle of confusion. Good-natured laughter ensued until they all managed to straighten themselves out and finish the dance.

  The duchess and her best friend had concocted a plan. Beth whispered to Georgina, “I think now would be a good time.”

  Georgina held up her hands to gain her guests’ attention. “We will now have a cotillion, where everyone changes partners when the music stops. But Lady Holland tells me the latest craze in London is a kissing dance. So when the dance ends, the gentleman will kiss his partner!”

  Whistles went up from all the males in the ballroom.

  Louisa drew in a quick breath and she felt her cheeks grow warm. Mother and Beth have come up with this plan because I told them I’ve never been kissed. I should leave! An inner voice told her this was the only way she could win her wager with Georgy. When George Grey asked to partner her, she was on the horns of a dilemma. Should I run or should I stay? For a moment Louisa was rooted to the spot and then George took her hand and led her into the dance.

  Each time the music stopped, there was a tangible air of anticipation. When it started again, everyone laughed and changed partners. The dance went on and on, as the musicians played a few bars, ceased playing for a beat or two, then resumed the music.

  Georgina watched the couples closely. When at last she saw James Hamilton take her daughter Louisa as his partner, she signaled the musicians to end the dance.

  When Louisa heard the music stop, she drew in a swift breath. Oh, please, please, play on! She waited as three beats stretched into four and she was suddenly gripped by panic. This cannot be happening to me! She glanced up and her eyes met Abercorn’s triumphant gaze. Her long black lashes swept down immediately and lay fanned against her pale cheeks. She stiffened as she felt Hamilton’s powerful arms envelop her. She could hear her heartbeat thudding inside her eardrums as fear spiraled through her belly.

  To Louisa, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. She felt the pressure of his hands on her back as he drew her close. Her lashes flew up in time to see his dark head bend toward her and his lips descend slowly to take possession of her mouth. She gasped for breath and as her lips opened, her eyes closed and Abercorn kissed her.

  She held herself rigid, but gradually his compelling closeness overwhelmed her. She stopped thinking and starting feeling. Her stiffness melted and her lips softened beneath his possessive mouth. His male scent stole her senses and his hard, muscled body pressed against hers, luring her to raise her arms and cling to him. She heard the whisper of her gown as it brushed against his marble- hard thighs. Her lips could taste the raw desire of his mouth as he bent her to his will. And then it was over. She felt dismay that the kiss ended and she staggered as he withdrew his powerful arms from her. She gazed up into his dark eyes. I’ll remember your kiss forever.

  Louisa blinked as if awakening from a trance. Dear God, you must never let the dominant Irish devil know the effect he had on you! She raised her hand and slapped his face. She knew immediately it was the worst thing she could have done. He grinned down at her knowingly. The slap told him exactly how devastating his kiss had been.

  She heard everyone clapping and her cheeks burned with chagrin. When she glanced around at the other couples, however, she realized they were not looking at her and Abercorn. All eyes were on the Duke and Duchess of Bedford, who were locked in a passionate embrace. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind: Darling, a kiss is such an insignificant trifle. Louisa now realized that was a blatant lie. There was absolutely nothing trifling or insignificant about Abercorn’s kiss. Or her parents’ for that matter.

  The musicians began to play a slow waltz. Hamilton swept her into his arms and led her around the floor in sweeping circles. Louisa did not protest. She was determined to show him that she was indifferent to both his looks and his charm. One thing was certain. She must never allow him to kiss her again.

  John Russell gazed down at his beautiful wife. “I love you, little girl.”

  Georgina touched his face tenderly. “I know you do, my darling.”

  “Will you waltz with me?”

  “I would love it above all things!” She had more good sense than to ask him if he was up to dancing.

  “There’s method in my madness,” he confessed as he led her slowly about the floor. “After this dance, the Scottish reels will begin, and all hell will break loose.”

  “I remember the first time you put on a kilt and partnered me in a Strathspey.”

  “I remember it too—the bloody kilt swung up and revealed my bare arse!”

  “You have a very manly arse, old man,” she whispered provocatively.

  “Flattery, begod!” he teased.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. My sister Charlotte is waltzing with the Duke of Clarence! I’m willing to wager she is the one who asked him and not the other way around.”

  “That’s a safe bet. The Gordon sisters are all bold as brass.”

  “Poor John. You got the runt of the litter, I’m afraid.”

  “I got my heart’s desire. Not many men can say that.”

  Georgina stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “At midnight, it will be Georgy’s birthday. I think we should give the girls their presents tonight. What do you think?”

  “I want what you want. Always have . . . always will,” he vowed.

  “And that’s the reason I love you.” She smiled up into his eyes.

  For the next two hours the pipers took over and the dancers became raucous as one Scottish reel followed another, interspersed by lively Strathspeys. It was thirsty work and the champagne and whiskey imbibed by the Russells and their guests induced them to cast aside their inhibitions and celebrate life to the full.

  At midnight the assembly moved to the supper room. As a large candle-lit cake was wheeled in, everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to Georgy and Louisa.

  Georgina presented the birthday girls with identically wrapped presents. All the guests gathered round to watch the sisters open the gifts from their parents.

  Louisa carefully removed the ribbon and paper to reveal a velvet jewel case. She caught her breath as she raised the lid and saw the glittering necklace. She had always been in awe of the famous Russell diamonds and was thrilled that her father and mother were bestowing part of the exquisite collection on her. She glanced at Georgy, knowing she was opening a similar gift of diamonds. In all, there were four necklaces, as well as numerous brooches, bracelets, and pairs of earrings.

  Louisa threw her father a radiant smile. As her mother fastened the necklace about her throat, she asked, “How can you bear to part with them?”

  “Jewels should be worn, not hoarded away in boxes. Display them proudly, darling, but always remember that your own beauty outshines any diamond.”

  As her mother fastened Georgy’s necklace about her throat, Louisa caught a fleeting look of disappointment on her sister’s face. It was gone in a trice as all the ladies gathered round to admire the precious gems, with oohs and aahs.

  William’s wife Elizabeth turned on her heel and abruptly left the ballroom. Her husband followed her reluctantly, knowing he would feel the brunt of her jealousy.

  “Bessy!” he called after her, but knew she would neither turn around nor wait for him, as she rushed in outrage to their suite in the east wing. The moment he closed the door, she turned on him like a wounded tigress.

  “How dare she?” She beat her clenched fists against his chest. “The diamond collection is part of the Russell inheritance. She has no right to adorn her wretched daughters with jewels that belong to the Russell family. They are priceless heirlooms. I want you to go to your father immediately and tell him that we object. Strenuously object. The audacity of the woman is beyond belief!”

  Elizabeth drew in a swift breath as a low knock came on the door.

  William opened the door and admitted his brother Johnny.

  Lord John spoke quietly
. “The woman, as you call her, is the Duchess of Bedford.”

  Bessy turned away in anger and paced about the chamber. Then she returned to face her husband’s brother. “To our great sorrow she is the duchess. But that doesn’t give her the right to give away the Russell diamonds.”

  “She has every right. My father gave her the jewels as a wedding present.”

  “She has him wrapped about her little finger. Without doubt she is the most flagrantly extravagant woman in England. She entertains as if she were royalty.”

  “I would give the pair of you a little advice. Don’t make Georgina your enemy. Father truly loves her. She has it within her power to get him to change his will. If he chooses, he can disown the sons he had with his first wife and leave everything to Georgina’s children.”

  “What Johnny says is true, Bessy. You must stop being vindictive toward her.”

  “William, you are weak as water. You don’t have the courage of your convictions.” She threw Johnny a contemptuous glance. “Why do you champion her?”

  “When Georgina married Father, she gave him both love and support—things that were lacking in his first marriage to our mother. She also loved me as if I were her own son. I know she can be extravagant and outrageously outspoken, but her generosity of spirit simply outweighs all her flaws.”

  “I think our absence will be noted, Bessy. It’s best that we return.”

  “I refuse to worship at the shrine of Georgina and her daughters. You may return and kowtow if you choose, William. I bid you good night, gentlemen.”

  Caught between the devil and the deep, William chose to return with Johnny. “Unfortunately Bessy has a haughty and unbending nature.”

  “I warrant she may never feel affection for Georgina, but she would be wise to show a little respect,” Johnny advised.

  By two o’clock, most of the men were legless with drink and declared they had danced enough to last them a lifetime. Some of the ladies retired, but Georgina and the birthday girls joined the more intrepid gentlemen in the long gallery where the gaming tables lured the revelers to try their luck.