Scandal at Vauxhall (Pleasure Garden Follies) (8 page)

“I am not even
close to being done. Your late husband also lost a sizeable fortune to
Downsbury. But not nearly enough that you would need to consolidate your
husband’s holdings. He apparently lost the deed to your country estate. With
your permission, of course, I could have my man of affairs act in your stead to
meet with Henry’s solicitor and see what other debts might be outstanding?”

She sat back,
shooting a wary glance. “You would do that for me? Even after all the trouble
you have gone through to get this much information?”

Nathaniel pulled
her into a tight embrace.
I would do
anything for her. Why would she question my honor now?
“My dear, I would
cross pirate-infested seas, battle the fiercest of warriors in the East, and
walk over hot coals if it meant I could be with you. When we get to the bottom
of this, Isabel, it is my deepest wish to right the wrongs of our past. No
matter who objects, I will not settle for less than you.”

“Are you sure,
Nathaniel? This is too risky.”

“My dear, risky
was our liaison in the gardens. What was said on the matter will soon be
nothing but a shadow. Considering the Duchess of Downsbury will have her own
scandal posted soon, I would not give it a second thought.”

The carriage
came to a halt. Some shouting ensued, and he shushed her.
Who the hell is stopping our carriage to engage in a very public
argument?

“I desire to
speak to my son, this instant!”

Nathaniel gave
her grace a displeased frown. “I am truly sorry, in advance, for anything that
comes out of that woman’s mouth.”

“Do not say
that, Nathaniel. She is your mother!”

“She is my
mother all right, and as insane as they come. I suppose we should get this over
with.” He hated being put on the spot and even though they were in public, his
dear mother would not hold back her wicked tongue. Was it any wonder that she
drove his father to drink? He patted Isabel’s leg and knocked on the window,
acknowledging he was stepping out.

The moment the
door opened, his mother already stood there, preventing his exit. She pushed
her way in and glanced over to where Isabel sat quietly, wide-eyed with shock.
He looked behind to see his sister, mouth gaping wide and speechless by their
mother’s forwardness.

“My Lady, it is
highly improper to bully yourself into one’s carriage,” Nathaniel growled.

The countess
snorted. “I will do as I wish, and you will not say another word until I am
finished.” Pointing her wiry finger at Isabel, she continued her berating, “You…you…miserable
excuse for a duchess! You will never have him for a husband, and that you can
be sure of!”

“Enough!” Nathaniel
barked loud enough that all of Hyde Park could have heard. He gritted his
teeth, barely able to stand another syllable from the intolerable woman. No one
had the right to talk to Isabel that way, no matter their station. “Get out, Mother,
before I toss you out. If you do not cease this nonsense immediately, I will
have my sister removed from your care, and then we will see what you have to
say.”

“You would not
dare,” his mother scowled.

“I would.”

Without so much
as another word, the dowager countess exited the carriage.

Relief washed
over him. “We are ready. Drive on.” He sat back and released a heavy breath. “Well,
I for one am glad that is over. You have my humblest apologies, Isabel. Once
the old bat gets started, she tends to carry on.”

Isabel smiled as
she rested her head on the window closest to her and closed her eyes. It had
not occurred to him how tired she might be. And to think, he had carried her
out of the house as if he was some ancient Celt, stealing himself a wife.

Good Lord, he
had behaved so barbarically. He had not shown her an ounce of consideration.
Next time, he would plan them a picnic with the help of her staff.

* * * *

Her butler
rubbed the back of his neck and pressed his lips together.

“Edmonds, what
is the matter with you? You look as if you have been caught doing something you
should not have. Out with it.”

He blew out a
long breath. “Well, Your Grace, it would appear that Lady Broxton has arrived
again, and I…permitted her entry.”

Isabel winced.
Will this day not end?
“Please, Edmonds,
no more visitors after Lady Broxton leaves. I do not feel very well. I am
beyond exhausted, and I really need the time to think everything over.”

She took a step
forward and swayed on her feet. The corridor would not stop moving. Her head
spun, and gravity pulled her forward. Her vision clouded, and she gasped for
air.

“Your Grace!” Hands
came to her aid, steadying her.

“I am fine. I am
fine.” She swatted Edmonds’s hands away. “As I said a moment ago, I am quite
exhausted.”

Lady Broxton ran
out of the parlor. “Your Grace, let me assist you to the dais. I can imagine
how exhausted you must be, so I will not keep you for long.” Her guest took her
by the elbow, leading her into the room and seating her in her favorite seat by
the fireplace.

“Thank you for
your assistance, Lady Broxton. My curiosity is piqued, and I am dying to know
why you are here a second time today. Surely whatever news you bring could have
waited a few more days?”

“I am truly
sorry for the inconvenience, Your Grace, but sadly, it could not. There really
wasn’t enough time. The invitations had gone out while Your Grace was out of
town, and our garden party is tomorrow. I came with haste to invite you, that
is, if you are feeling well enough?”

“Thank you for
the invitation, Lady Broxton. If I am well enough, you can rest assured I will
attend. Although, I am sure you are aware that my attending such an event
before my year of mourning is over might be cause for even more scandal.”

“
Pish
, posh. All of London, one way or another, is involved
in their own scandal. And if you are not aware of it already, Her Grace, the Duchess
of Downsbury, is rumored to be with child. Though, secretly, we all know it is
not the duke’s, either.” She winked.

Isabel’s head
pounded relentlessly while her guest went on and on. Finally, she coughed and
rose from her seat. “Lady Broxton, while I would love to converse some more, I
really must lie down. I am not sure if it was a lack of rest, or perhaps
something I ate while at Bath. I have to ask you to leave.”

“Of course, Your
Grace. Do be seated, and I will see myself out. Thank you for your time.”

Once the front
door closed, Isabel collapsed into her chair.
I just need to close my eyes for a bit. I am going to be all right….

Isabel squinted
as morning light flooded her bedchamber, illuminating every corner and bouncing
off her looking glass on the dressing table.
Good Lord! I feel as if I have slept for a century.

Stiff, parched
and light-headed, she rang for assistance. She all but managed to slide out bed
and wrap herself in her silk robe when her housekeeper came barreling in. She loved
the woman dearly, and praised her for her efficiency, but every time she ran,
the bloody floorboards shook.

“Your Grace, you
are awake!”

“Of course I am.
Why wouldn’t I be?”

The housekeeper
only started at her with wide eyes, lips pursed.

“Oh, never you
mind. I have Lady Broxton’s garden party that I must get ready for. I could use
some tea and a bit of toast.”

The woman only gawked
then curtsied. “Yes, Your Grace. Right away.”

Isabel’s day was
only beginning and something did not feel right. She did not fear facing some
of London’s notorious wagging tongues today, but she did not relish the fact that
she had to sit with them for tea.

Her personal
life and misadventures would surely be the main subject. She did not doubt,
even for a moment, that the dowager countess had gone to work in attempting to
further damage her reputation. And to think, Nathaniel insisted on making her
his bride. His mother would certainly have an apoplectic fit.

Nathaniel’s
threat to remove his sister from their mother’s care also gave her pause in how
doting of a brother he could be. Both his mother and sister were fortunate that,
unlike some other young men around town, he cared very much for his family, no
matter what controversial things they had done.
Why, it was only weeks ago that he had heard of what his sister had
done after he had left the ball six months ago.

Isabel giggled,
remembering the horror splashed across Lady Balfour’s face.

“Good
heavens! She actually beat Broxton at
Vingt
-et-un.
The wager was set at twenty-five pounds when Lady Thompson realized what she
had done. Poor Lord Broxton never had a chance to escape the sound
tongue-lashing her mother gave him on propriety.”

“Your breakfast
is ready, Your Grace.”

“Thank you.
Could I trouble you to bring me today’s edition of the daily?”

Isabel enjoyed
the comic relief that came at the expense of foolish young ladies. Nathaniel’s
sister clearly did not enjoy being confined to the strictest of rules when it
came to proper decorum and imagined she was quite the handful at the best of
times.

She had
overheard the ladies talking one evening regarding why young Miss Thompson had
been discharged early from the academy. While the details were sketchy, apparently
hitting another young lady with a fan, and then pulling said girl’s hair,
nearly incited a riot. The antics resulted in candles being knocked over, a
small fire being started, and the headmistress losing her only wig to the
flames. The child was a magnet for trouble, maybe even more so than she.

Her housekeeper
slipped into the room, quietly dropping the news near her tray. The warmth of
her tea soothed the dryness in her throat, but the toast was hardly sitting
well with her. Isabel scrunched her nose at the aroma. “This smells awful—”

Then as if
receiving a blow to her delicate stomach, Isabel fled to the water basin. A
cold shivering sweat coated her silk-covered body. Her muscles contracted, and
for the first time since her childhood, she succumbed to a wave of nausea. In
between heaving, both the butler and the housekeeper rushed in behind her.

“Your Grace—”

“Enough of this
nonsense,” the butler announced. “I’ll fetch the physician myself.”

When Isabel
finally quit, she slid back under her covers, curling into a ball.
It was only toast.
Never in her life did
a crispy piece of bread elicit such a reaction. The sounds of Mrs.
Pitts’s
feet shuffling while cleaning up her dreadful mess
washed away with slumber, striking her fancy once again. But before—
heaven forbid
—she was granted any rest,
the edge of her bed dipped, and the warmth of her housekeeper’s hand rested on
her forehead.

“Your Grace, you
have not had your monthly yet, have you?”

Isabel blinked,
furiously trying to remember when her last cycle passed, and the more she
thought, the more she was coming to the same conclusion.
Good God! The day in the carriage—it would have been the only time—

A single tear
fell, followed by an onslaught and a steady stream.
What will Nathaniel do? Will he cut all ties to her? Will he wed Lady
Eloise Morton?
She had certainly gone and mucked it up now. But she was
certain of one thing. She would never give the child up and no one could make
her. Nor would she allow the child to be raised by a woman as self-serving as
the dowager countess.

* * * *

Nathaniel paced
the morning room, undecided on what to do first. He had not heard back from his
solicitor, nor had he received a response from Isabel. He expected he would have
heard from her by now, but his instincts were beginning to confirm his earlier
suspicions of someone in Isabel’s household keeping his letters from her.
But who? And what could they possibly gain
from keeping me away from her?

A carriage
pulled up the drive, and his mother, on cue, floated past him. “Ah! Just in
time. We pay the servants handsomely, why in heavens are they not outside?” she
shouted.

Their butler and
two servants rushed to the door, opening it in perfect synchronization as the
footman was about to knock.

“Ladies Eliza
and Eloise Morton, your Ladyship!”

Nathaniel
blinked and swallowed a lump the size of a brick. Clearly the butler had a
sense of humor.
Why on earth are they
here?
Mother
. Mother and her
scheming, and of course, he had already heard the rumors and read the bets in
the books at White’s. He approached the entrance casually, glaring daggers at
the matriarch of the Thompson family.

“Ladies.”
Nathaniel strained to smile and offer them the courtesy of a simple bow. “We
are delighted to receive you. What would be the occasion?”

The elderly Lady
Morton disregarded his comment and turned to his mother. “You said things were
settled.”

He craned his
neck to listen in on what the ladies were discussing, but to no avail, the
moment they caught him watching, they began whispering.
Will this never end? The last I checked, I was head of this house!
Ignoring
the nonsense and the lone Eloise, who now stood down the hall ordering the
servants around, Nathaniel rushed out the door.

He needed
information, and he needed it now. Once business with his solicitor was clear,
he would stop in and visit Isabel. If they would not let her respond, then it
was up to him to show everyone that he was not to be trifled with.

Nathaniel had
only reached his horse when a willowy shadow blocked his exit. “You know, most
people would find your behavior inexcusable. But I find it part of your
devilish charm, Lord Thompson.”

“Lady Morton, I
need you to step out of the way. I have errands that I must take care of.”

“I am sure you
do, My Lord. However, it would be highly irregular were it known our host ignored
us, let alone kicked us out to the curb. In pursuit of a ruined dowager duchess,
no less.” She stalked toward him like a cat in heat, waiting the precise moment
to pounce.

“I mean no
disrespect, My Lady, but I have business with my solicitor.” He walked his
horse, past the arrogant chit, knowing all too well what kind of disaster
awaited for him when he returned home.

“Her Ladyship
invited us, but many others are expected. It would be terribly foolish for you
to leave right before all your guests arrive.”

Nathaniel
stopped dead in his tracks.
What in the
world is she talking about?
His stable master approached and reached for
the reins. Nathaniel nodded, allowing him to take the beast back to its stall. “Just
exactly how many people did my mother invite?”

She paused and
pursed her lips. “Well, I do believe she mentioned some of your available
friends from Oxford would be in attendance, as well as the Duke of Downsbury,
Lord and Lady Broxton, and a few others.”

He cringed as
anger mounted in him.
She invited
Downsbury! How could she?
The woman was hell bent on forcing him to his
knees. Perhaps he should consider retreating to their family’s hunting lodge and
plan an extended trip to the continent for his mother. He returned to the house,
bracing himself for the tension beginning to plague his neck, and only stopped as
he pulled his butler aside privately.

“I need you to
send word to my solicitor. I would like to meet with him in my library within
the hour and not a minute later.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Nathaniel
shuddered at the thought of what he would do with so many visitors. His limited
privacy would impede his efforts to sneak away. Unless he waited for his guests
to retire for the evening, but then again, he must do his best to avoid more
scandal. Tonight would surely be interesting, and the only thing he looked
forward to was keeping an eye on Downsbury.

* * * *

Isabel’s heart
sank, and the tears wouldn’t cease flowing. Henry’s physician confirmed her
pregnancy, and in the same breath, he had delivered the strictest of orders she
was to rest. Thankfully, he had enough sensibility to not question who the
father might be. She did not think she could handle the embarrassment of acknowledging
Nathaniel having played a part in her condition.

Not to mention
the unfinished business with Downsbury and the family’s country estate. As soon
as the matter was dealt with, she would leave London permanently and live in
the country. Somewhere she could raise the little one in peace and away from
money-grubbing dukes.

The thought made
her wonder sadly about the status of the Duchess of Downsbury.
If she really is with child, who had
fathered the babe? Was it Henry, or another gent of nobility and wealth?
The mere thought of her being shipped off to remain hidden until the child was
born, only to have to give it away made Isabel want to weep.

“Your Grace?”

“Come in.”

“Well, now that the
worst of it is over, we will need to have some new gowns made up for you and
prepare a nursery.”

“There will be
no need to clear out one of the rooms. I have no intention of remaining in
London. Once I have received clearance, the townhouse will be sold, and I have
every intention of moving to the country. I have no desire to raise a child in
a home that harbors nothing but terrible memories. No. We shall embark on a new
life, in a new home.”

The housekeeper
paled at the news. “Your Grace, but what of the staff?”

“I will not have
a need, nor the room, for a full staff in a country cottage. I will offer
everyone a handsome compensation for your years of service, but I think it is
time I do something for myself. Once I am settled, I will send word to my
parents, who, hopefully by then, will have forgiven me for my course of
actions.”

“Your Grace,
while I understand your need to do things on your own, you are not thinking
clearly—in your condition, you should not be making drastic decisions,” the
woman exclaimed.

While she had a
point, Isabel simply could not sit idle any longer. Days had passed without any
word from Nathaniel, and the pain, mixed with longing, confused her to no end.

* * * *

Nathaniel’s
appointment with his solicitor had gone better than expected. Isabel’s country
estate had been the only casualty of her late husband’s idiocy, which meant
everything went to her, as he had no heir. Absolutely everything had gone to
Isabel, and he doubted she even knew how much his fortune spanned.

Estates on the
continent and in Scotland, to investments in the Americas, all monies belonged
to her. And for a woman who prided herself on her independence, she was about
to become the wealthiest dowager duchess he had ever known.

Such a pity she
had to endure the humiliation of her husband’s affair, and even their own tryst
at Vauxhall. Nothing would ever take away that embarrassment. He had never once
considered Isabel a conquest. Yet, he never stopped himself from leading them
into compromising situations.

He eased into
his seat in the parlor when Downsbury spoke up.

“So, how exactly
does one get away with scandalous affairs at the Pleasure Gardens, my lord? I
am vastly amused at how quietly the House of Lords has been handling your
indiscretions.”

Nathaniel choked
on the port he had been sipping and cleared his throat. Everyone from Avonlea,
his mother, Eloise and her mother, and the various other guests were silenced.

“Your Grace,
while I am not one to listen to what the wagging tongues of London have to say
about anything or anyone, I will remind you once again, I do not discuss my
personal life. Not in private, nor in public. And I find it particularly rude
and inconsiderate of you to even bring up such a discussion before delicate
ears.