The Duke and The Governess (27 page)

John shook his head. ‘No. I can vouch for the fact that she was a virgin. Apparently Carruthers started the rumour to protect his affair with Lady Saddleworth and he went to the Peninsular to escape his gambling debts.’

‘You had her at that house party!’ Norfolk whispered in awe.

‘I did and it was the best damned night of my life.’ John replied, ‘unfortunately I had to leave the next morning to deal with Edward and although I wrote a letter, she either didn’t receive it, or she ignored it.’

‘Well, I would suggest you get yourself around to Queen’s Walk as fast as possible. She’s going to give Carruthers some grief when she finds out about the bout.’ John only nodded. ‘I suppose this blows out the rumour about you and Lady Wilhelmina?’

John almost choked on the sip of wine he’d just taken and promptly sprayed it back in the glass. ‘Dear God!’ John spluttered in between gasping for air and coughing his lungs onto the table. ‘Have you seen her?’ Norfolk was laughing so hard, the tears were streaming down his face. He nodded. ‘That’s desperation.’ John said as he recovered his breath. ‘The Duchess of Richmond almost made me dance with her, but I’ve a fondness for my toes, so I graciously refused and left her ball on the run!’

‘Her father own half of England, you know?’ Norfolk said as he speared a roast potato. ‘She might suit your brother-in-law.’

‘What Edward?’ John blurted and then sat and thought about it. She had a fortune, and although he didn’t hold a title of his own, he was connected to a Duke, but her pockets were so plump even Edward would have trouble spending it all. ‘I don’t think he’ll fall for it, but you never can tell.’ He closed his eyes and could envision Edward’s face when he looked at her.
There’s rich and there’s rich, Farrington!
Edward would say, before he ran out of the room in terror.

They finished their lunch in amiable conversation about the current bills before returning to the House for the afternoon session.

~*~*~*~

Jessica had decided to attend the Duchess of Richmond’s Tea Party two days later. She dressed in her finest silk day dress. She donned the matching Spenser, making sure it buttoned right up to her throat and the matching bonnet, kid gloves and a reticule to go with the gown. Mary dressed in her best and accompanied her, making herself scarce to the kitchens during the party.

The Duchess greeted her affably, introduced her to Lady Wilhelmina Bantock making Jessica wonder about the accuracy of the Duke of Norfolk’s supposition. She just couldn’t see John Farrington even thinking about filling a nursery with the bluestocking before her, although she had to admit she had a pretty face and it only needed somebody to bring her out from behind her disguise. She wandered the salons and it wasn’t long before Jessica was face to face with her mother again. This time she didn’t even look at her, but turned her head away as she glimpsed Lady Helen out of the corner of her eye. She moved into another room, out of the french doors onto the terrace and leaned against the wall to recover her composure. She listened idly to the chatter, not really taking it in until she heard somebody talking about the Earl of Dean.

‘I tell you, the young Earl will definitely win. Warwick is getting in his dotage for this kind of exercise.’ The first voice said.

‘How ridiculous. The Duke is extremely fit. Only last week I saw him at fencing practice.’ A second voice joined in.

‘Well it’s a good job it’s not pistols, that’s all I can say. The Duke is a crack shot!’ a third added. ‘Anyway, does anybody know the reason for it?’

‘Something to do with a Lady’s honour is all I’ve heard.’ The first voice said disconsolately.

Jessica turned in at the door to be confronted with three men she had never seen before. ‘Excuse me for being nosy, Gentlemen. But what is going to happen between the Earl and the Duke?’ she asked politely.

‘My dear Lady Carruthers!’ one spluttered. ‘They are having a pugilism contest.’

‘A fight?’ she asked indignantly.

‘A fist fight.’ Another confirmed. ‘It’s supposed to be happening soon in the Duke’s back garden.

Suddenly the Duke of Norfolk was there. ‘Gentlemen. I think you have said enough.’ He was looking at the horrified expression on Jessica’s face. He clasped her elbow firmly and steered her away from the terrace.

‘That’s why you came, isn’t it?’ Jessica demanded and looked at him fiercely as she stumbled along beside him.

‘Yes, Madam. I was to inform the Earl that he struck the Duke at White’s and Farrington was offering him out for a boxing match.’

‘Why not pistols at dawn?’ she asked in a daze.

‘Because neither of them wanted to upset you.’ Norfolk was still walking her towards the front of the house. ‘He told me.’ He said softly and smiled compassionately. ‘You should go home now that you know. This will be difficult if you stay, because they will speculate which woman he’s compromised all day.’

‘I have no interest in the Duke; my only concern is the Earl.’ She said coldly, all the while her heart pounded in her chest, making her breathless.

‘Nevertheless you should go home.’

‘When is this stupid fight?’ she asked as they arrived in the hallway.

‘Now,’ Norfolk said, coldly. ‘Good afternoon, Lady Carruthers.’ He bowed formally and hurried away, leaving Jessica with her mouth open. She looked at the Duchess’s butler, asked for her maid and called for the carriage.

They hurried down the steps and she looked at her driver. ‘James, do you know where the Duke of Warwick’s residence is?’

‘I believe it’s here in Grosvenor Square, your Ladyship.’ And he pointed across the square.

‘Good. Then take us there.’ She told him and climbed in the carriage after Mary.

It was a very short coach ride, as The Duchess only lived across the square. Jessica lurched out of the coach and practically ran up the steps. The footman on duty wouldn’t even open the door. He shrugged his shoulders and turned his back.

‘Damn and blast!’ Jessica swore, turned on her heel and went back to her carriage. ‘Around to the mews, James!’ she ordered and climbed back in the coach.

~*~*~*~

The Duke had staged this as a proper boxing match. There was a proper ring, a referee and each man had a second and a third in their corner. The Duke of course, was accompanied by Masters and Butcher. Both experienced pugilists.

The Earl had selected two of his friends from Oxford and the audience were a mixture of staff from the Square and local gentry.

The Duke sat on the stool and waited. Masters was massaging his shoulders to loosen up his muscles. ‘There must be half the nobs from the square here.’ He said jovially.

‘I believe they are abandoning the Duchess of Richmond’s tea party.’ John murmured. ‘I won’t be popular tomorrow.’

Right then, Norfolk appeared at his side. ‘She overheard some idiots talking about it at the Duchess’s. I’ve already informed your footman not to let her in, but she will probably find a way.’

‘Can you keep her out? I wouldn’t like her to see me do this.’ John said softly.

‘It’s not you she’s worried about.’ Norfolk said and looked at the young Earl across the ring. ‘It’s him.’

‘Maybe he’s offered for her.’ John said disconsolately.

‘You’ll only know that when you pluck up the courage to talk to her.’

The referee called the two men forward and stated the rules for the bout. ‘There will be no kicking, biting, head butting or hitting below the belt. This is a boxing match, not a free for all and if there is a knock down, the count will be to twenty.’

The referee blew his whistle and the protagonists started circling each other. They each threw short jabs at the other, to gauge the strength and reach of the opponent and then they really started to fight. John had learned to defend his face really well and held his fists up in front of his face. He shuffled his feet and kept his hands at the ready, throwing a left jab, followed by a right hook and making Anthony pay dearly for his temerity.

It wasn’t long before both men were sporting cuts. The Earl’s eyebrow and the Duke’s lip. At the sight of the blood the crowd went wild, screaming and shouting. And in the background, Edward was doing a roaring trade in bets for John Farrington, the Duke of Warwick.

~*~*~*~

As they reached the mews the roar of the crowd was almost deafening. Jessica let herself in the back gate and just looked at the spectacle. Both men had bare chests. Both men were already bleeding and she could see Elizabeth at the nursery window as plain as day. It took a few minutes to force her way through the throng.

As the referee blew his whistle for a short break, Jessica rushed forward. ‘Are you mad?’ she screamed at the Earl.

‘No. I’m defending the honour of a Lady!’

‘Anthony!’

‘Jessie, you should not be here.’ She looked across the ring and saw John Farrington looking at her calmly. She looked up at the back of the house and then hurried away. She barrelled through the back door into the kitchen. ‘Where is Mrs. Beaton?’ she demanded.

The cook jumped and turned on her heel. ‘Mrs. Beaton left earlier on to visit her sister, your Ladyship.’

‘Then who is supposed to be looking after the Baroness?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know, Your Ladyship.’ The cook replied curtly.

Jessica saw a footman arriving. ‘You there! Escort me up to the nursery at once!’ she demanded and the footman didn’t argue. ‘And send for my carriage from the mews!’ she ordered another one without even realising she sounded exactly like a Duchess.

She hustled the footman upstairs and found Elizabeth crying at the window. ‘Miss Jessica!’ literally burst from her as she ran across the room and threw herself into Jessica’s arms. ‘My Daddy’s fighting down there.’ She said through the tears cascading down her face.

Jessica picked her up and clutched the small child to her chest. ‘You should not be here.’ Elizabeth was bordering on hysterical, so Jessica walked down the stairs. In the hallway, she told the footman. ‘The Baroness will be at the Earl’s residence in Queen’s Walk, when the Duke remembers he has a daughter.’ And she stalked from the residence and climbed in her carriage.

‘Home, James.’ She said sadly, rocking the distressed child on her lap.

~*~*~*~

John Farrington saw Jessica as he sat down. She was furious and
it crackled around her like lightening. She
looked glorious
in her rage, like an ancient queen
.
He could see the six hundred years of her noble parentage in her stance.
Now I know what I’m fighting for.
He thought and watched her look up at the back of the house with an expression of horror blooming on her face. As she rushed away he turned his head to follow her and stood to watch her vanish through the kitchen door. He sighed and looked up at the back of the house to see Elizabeth at the window and his heart almost faltered in his chest as he realised his daughter was watching. ‘Damn!’ he said and turned to Butcher. ‘Get one of the maids to remove Elizabeth from her room.’  The butler nodded and sprinted to the house. Butcher intended to see to it himself and was just in time to see Jessica storm out of the front door with Elizabeth firmly clutched to her chest.

His Grace isn’t going to be happy about this.
Butcher thought as he made his way back to the garden.

Round two had already begun and the Duke was under a concerted attack by the Earl.

‘I’m glad you sent her away.’ The Duke said as the Earl’s fist whizzed passed his ear.

‘If you’d kept your britches buttoned I wouldn’t have had to do this!’ the Earl spat venomously. The Duke dropped his guard as he stared at the Earl in surprise and the Earl took advantage, giving the Duke a left roundhouse that almost took his head off. He staggered away and dropped to his knee, bringing in the referee and the count began. He didn’t rush, but was back on his feet before the count of ten and raised his fists and faced his opponent.

‘Is that what she told you?’ the Duke demanded. ‘That I forced myself upon her?’ and threw an economical jab at the Earl’s chin, which was blocked by a forearm.

‘No, she was adamant that it was consensual.’ The Earl said firmly, ‘otherwise I would have insisted on pistols in Hyde Park!’

‘Damn it! I offered her marriage!’ the Duke spat, to which the Earl stopped in surprise.

‘She doesn’t seem to think so.’ The Earl replied and received a thundering blow in the gut, which folded him over and onto his knees, his breath whooping out in a gust. The referee hopped in between them and they waited for the Earl to regain his feet.

‘I wrote to her offering marriage!’ the Duke spoke harshly as the Earl’s fist smeared the skin off his cheek.

‘Well, she didn’t receive any letters.’ The Earl said as he danced back out of range. ‘As far as she knows, you had your way and left with alacrity, just like that!’

‘But that’s just not true!’ the duke expostulated as his fist again found the cut on the Earl’s eyebrow, opening the cut wider.

The referee blew the whistle and the peers returned to their corners. Edward Asquith was rubbing his hands with glee. ‘You need to finish this now.’ He told the Duke. ‘Go for the knock out, so that there won’t be any question of who won.’