The Duke and The Governess (5 page)

‘Compromised how?’ Verity asked softly, still waiting for John to end the topic, but he seemed distant and uncaring.

‘Well, the word on the
ton
is that she was caught in the shrubbery
enflagrante delecto
with him
...’ Verity watched John flinch and close his eyes.
‘...
at Lord Devon’s ball
last week
and that Lord
Carruthers
had her skirts up around her waist and his britches around his knees!’ He laughed vulgarly. ‘I’ve always said Misses like the shrubbery!’

‘Edward!’ John said firmly. ‘Don’t be so vulgar in front of my mother.’

‘Sorry John,’ he replied without any sincerity. ‘I just thought you ought to know what kind of a girl she turned out to be!’

John had made the mistake of telling Edward all about his infatuation with the beautiful Jessica Gordon one night when in his cups. Edward had delighted in telling Victoria about it, so that she would clear a debt or two. A fact she never let him forget. Every twist of the knife was said sweetly alongside the name of Jessica Gordon.

‘Who discovered them?’ Verity asked still softly.

‘That’s the strange thing, nobody is owning up to ha
ving witnessed this event. I find it most peculiar. But I understand that Wilbur Gordon and Stephen
Carruthers
have made an agreement for the marriage. Miss Gordon or as she will be Lady
Carruthers
, will have to live with the Earl’s family while David is in Portugal. No doubt to provide a good home for the hei
r that should arrive in nine
months time!’

The carriage jerked to a halt and the footman opened the door.  The Duke allowed the ladies to disembark first and he sat and looked at Edward as if he’d crawled out from under a stone. ‘Do you believe that it’s true?’ He asked softly.

‘Who in the
ton
believes in truth!? It’s the story doing the rounds. Gordon and
Carruthers
have forced a marriage, so there must be some truth in it.’ Edward finished, surprised at the hurt expression on John’s face.
‘Why are you interested in it?’ Edward asked impertinently and John shook his head and turned away.
‘Christ, John. She’s a whore, like all of them. Just a hole to be fu....!’ His
words
died on a gurgle as the Duke suddenly had him around the throat and was forcing him against the front bulkhead of the carriage.

‘Never speak about her in that fashion in my hearing or I’ll kill you!’ John spat forcefully into his face. He watched the colour drain from Edward’s face and he
jerked his head up and down a few times
before John released him and slumped back onto his seat. Edward straightened his cravat, rubbed his throat and eased himself out of the door.

The Duke sat for a moment after Edward had climbed down and shook his head. He vividly remembered the beautiful Jessica Gordon
smiling at him during their first dance
, although he’d never seen her again af
ter that night
. He was saddened that she had been so compromised, even if there was no truth in the allegations, her reputation was ruined and John was very aware that the slow disintegration of her reputation started the night he danced with her. ‘Poor Jessica.’ He murmured. ‘I hope you love him and he loves you, otherwise your life will be as unhappy as mine.’
He scrambled out of the coach and wearily climbed the steps to his ancestral home, easing his cloak off his shoulders and handing it to Butcher, the butler, along with his hat.

‘It’s still very wet out there, Your Grace.’ Butcher said softly.

‘Yes, the vicar was in a hurry to get her in the ground before the grave overflowed.’ The Duke said just as softly and looked keenly in Butcher’s eye, giving him a knowing smile.

‘And Her Grace would have complained about that too!’ Butcher said, turning away and handing the garments over to a footman.

‘That she would!’ The Du
ke said. ‘I just need to pop up
stairs and change. Will you see that the guests are entertained in the main drawing room, when they come down?’

‘I will Your Grace.’

‘And tell my mother’s and Verity’s maids to start packing. They are going to London with Edward this afternoon.’

‘I will, and will they need the large Landau, Your Grace?’

‘I would think so, Butcher. Probab
ly the luggage cart as well.’ He
sighed and gave the butler a small smile. ‘Thank you.’ he said softly and strode across the hall to the staircase
and climbed them two at a time. He walked into his chambers, shedding his soggy jacket, to find Masters
had
already
laid a bath and was in the process of
laying out fresh mourning clothes for him
.

‘How did the service go, Your Grace?’ Masters asked solemnly. John had been surprised that none of the staff wished to go. Not even the Duchess’s maid. Victoria, in her three years at Charlecote had managed to offend and ostracise every single member of staff from Butcher the butler, down to the lowliest scullery maid. As he strip
ped off his clothes and sat in
the hot bath
before the fire, he remembered Butcher’s indignation at the Duchess’s invasion of the kitchen. She had stormed into the kitchen, lashed the cook with her acerbic tongue, shouted at the kitchen maids and slapped the scullery maid, all because the breakfast she’d had delivered in bed was cold.
He sniggered when Butcher told him that the next time the breakfast had been so hot, that she had to wait to eat it
. Cook had threatened to resign and the scullery maid took to hiding in the pantry every time the door to the house opened. And that was nothing to the importuning the poor head groom had had to suffer at Victoria’s hands. Because he refused to service the Duchess, she dismissed him and George, the coachman, had told the Duke. John took the greatest pleasure in re-instating the groom and telling Victoria to refrain from sacking his staff
just because they wouldn’t fuck her
. She had stood in his study and blustered, twisting the knife again about his lack of virility and John became so angry that he stood up from behind his desk, looked her coldly in the eye and said firmly ‘If you fall pregnant to some other man in this household, I won’t sack them, I will divorce you instead!’ Then she made the ultimate mistake and shouted ‘You wouldn’t dare!’ He had smiled in such a way that Victoria suddenly recognised the vulnerability of her position. ‘I would.’ The Duke spat. ‘And I would leave you penniless and give the child away to a deserving family.’
He had sighed deeply. ‘Please don’t forget that I’m the Duke. All of this is mine, not yours, and if I choose to remove you from my life, it will be very painful for you. You would be completely ostracised from the
ton
, the scandal would be immense and your entire fault!’ After that Victoria had been the epitome of the good wife, for about a week.

‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready, Your Grace?’ Masters asked from the window
, jerking the Duke out of his reverie
. ‘The guests will wonder what’s keeping you.’

‘Yes, Masters.’ He looked up at his faithful valet. ‘You and the staff have been very patient and kind, thank you.’ John said softly as
he stood in the bath and rubbed himself down. Stepping carefully out he sat in the fireside chair and continued to dry himself and then
he slipped on the sto
ckings that Masters handed to him
.

‘It’s nothing, Your Grace.’ Masters replied evenly. ‘We’re just doing our jobs.’

‘No, it’s more than that and you know it.’
The Duke muttered as he yanked his black britches over his hips.
‘You could all have resigned before she died.’

The valet tightened the buckles at his knees before
the Duke forced his feet into a pair of shiny Hessians
, Masters
pulled himself to his impressive height and looked down on the Duke. ‘I have always served the house of Warwick and I will continue to do so until my dying day.’ He held out the fine linen shirt for the Duke. ‘No
wicked Duchess is going to
force me to leave.’ He reached for the cravat as the Duke buttoned himself up to the collar
, tucked his shirt in
and turned around. ‘And I’m surprised you thought she could, Your Grace.’ Mast
ers finished as he tied a sombre
knot in the black cravat.

‘My apologies, Masters.’ The Duke murmured, as he turned ag
ain and stuck his arms out for Masters to jerk the fitted jacket over his arms and shoulders. He turned back and smiled. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you. Your loyalty has been the only good thing in the last four years.’

Masters pulled the jacket straight, smoothed the creases from shoulders and arms, picked up a clothes brush and flicked it over the jacket in a proprietary way. ‘That’s all right, Your Grace. No offence taken. It was the Duchess we didn’t like, not you.’ Masters stepped away and John checked his appearance in the mirror.

‘Very good, Masters.’ He smiled again. ‘I think I’ll stop by the nursery on my way downstairs. After all, it’s not her fault, is it?’ he asked rhetorically and strode from his chambers, leaving Masters smiling in his wake.

John entered the nursery with trepidation.
Would the wet nurse be feeding his child?
He thought as he opened the door to hear a baby crying. He walked cautiously into the school room, to find the wet nurse pacing the floor and rocking his baby with a soothing voice.

‘Is everything all right?’ he asked and she jumped and spun on her heel.

‘Oh! Your Grace!’ she blurted and dropped into an inelegant curtsey. ‘I didn’t expect to see you.’

‘Why ever not?’ he asked indignant.

‘Well, it being today.’ The nurse said cryptically
.

He frowned at her for a moment and then nodded at the bundle of rags in her arms. ‘What is wrong with her?’ he asked.

‘It’s just
some colic, Your Grace.’ The nurse said and jiggled the baby in her arms. He looked carefully at this young girl and could see dark circles under her eyes.

‘How long has she
been
crying?’ he asked and approached the nurse.

‘Since last evening, Your Grace.’ The nurse said and he could hear the quiver in her voice, as if she was afraid.

‘I’m afraid I know nothing about babies.’ The Duke said uncomfortably. ‘I’ve only seen her once.’

The nurse smiled brightly at him. ‘In that case, Your Grace, it’s time you learned.’ She said and offered the screaming bundle to him.

‘How do I hold her?’ he asked and smiled back. The nurse manoeuvred the baby into his arms and suddenly he looked down into his daughter
’s
face, beetroot red and scrunched up in her discomfort. ‘What is colic?’ he asked.

‘Trapped wind, Your Grace. Most babies suffer from it.’ She looked at the rocking chair. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll show you the best ways to get rid of it?’

Without a thought, John stepped over to the fire and sat in the rocking chair. The nurse spread a towel over his legs. ‘Now, lay her on her face.’ John had no idea how to even manoeuvre the baby in his arms and looked at the nurse in trepidation. ‘Have you ever handled a puppy or a cat?’ she asked and the Duke nodded. ‘Then this is much the same. Don’t be afraid of her, because she will sense it
. Just lay her on your lap.’ The nurse opened the blanket as John laid the wriggling body on his knee. ‘Now, put your hands under her arms and roll her over your hand onto her face.’ John complied with these instructions and suddenly his daughter was draped over his knee. ‘Now pat her back.’ John laid his hand over her back and was surprised that it covered her from her head to her thighs. ‘Just gently pat her with your fingers.’ The nurse said as she moved his hand into the right position. Slowly he followed the nurse’s instructions and lightly tapped his fingers on the baby’s back. ‘You can do it harder than that. The idea is to shift the wind.’ John patted more firmly and was surprised when the baby stopped screaming and settled to a pitiful wail. John patted a little harder and the cry turned to a whimper, and then suddenly a large eructation emitted from her backside and silence reigned supreme. ‘Just the ticket.’ The nurse murmured. ‘Why couldn’t she do that an hour ago?’
She bestowed a beaming smile of the Duke. ‘You’re a natural, Your Grace.
Have you thought of a name for her?’

‘A name?’ he asked and looked up at the nurse. ‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Well, you’ll have to have a name for her christening.’ The nurse said helpfully. ‘You can stop patting her now. Just rub her back to keep the contact.’ She smiled again. ‘In fact, you could pick her up and hold her against you chest, so that she can hear you
r
heart-beat.’ John gingerly turned the baby over and the nurse wrapped the blanket
around her flailing limbs. ‘Her
mother’s heart-beat has been in her ear from the moment she was conceived.’ She went on to explain, ‘and that’s what she listens for. She’s usually quiet while I feed her
.’