The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV) (32 page)

“The footman will help you upstairs, dearest.
You are too heavy for me in your condition. I’m going to blow out
the candle in the study and then I will join you. Now up you go.”
She gave him a pat on the arm, and Robert and the footman climbed
the stairs. Fiona waited until they reached the first landing
before heading back into the study.

She quickly opened the drawer. Rifling
through the papers, she found the annulment decree and read it
carefully. She scrawled Robert’s signature on the bottom, and dug
out his signet ring from her pocket. Taking the candle, she dripped
wax on the bottom and buried the signet into it. She replaced the
candle, and blew across the ink. Done. In six weeks time she would
no longer be the Duchess of Cantin.

She locked the drawer, took the papers, and
stood. It was time to depart.

Upstairs, she first woke Merry and told her
to meet her outside in the mews. Then on silent feet, she replaced
Robert’s keys and his ring in the little dish on his dresser. He
lay on his back in his bed, snoring loudly. In his condition, she
had little doubt he would even remember their conversation or her
being in his study.

She slipped through the connecting door and
went into her room. The jewels he had given her lay in a box on the
top of her bed, along with her note. After the happenings at the
ball tonight, no one would check on her. She could count on her
mother-in-law to say she was not to be disturbed, and as Merry was
the only one she ever allowed in her chamber, no one would. She
turned the lock in the connecting door, gathered her shawl and took
one last glance around her room. She had everything she needed. She
stepped into the hall, closed the door behind her, and snuck down
the back staircase.

In the mews, Eammon and Merry stood by the
carriage. Eammon handed Merry and Fiona up, and then he climbed
aboard, flicked the reins, and they set off.

Fiona finally let go of the breath she had
been holding.

The Bainbridge Hotel was exquisite. Fiona
loved her room on the third floor. The tree just outside her window
gave the impression she lived in an aerie. And having Merry with
her in the little bedroom adjoining her suite, gave Fiona a sense
of security she hadn’t realized she needed, or wanted.

Checking in at half-four in the morning had
been no problem. Greenleigh had secured the rooms for his ‘cousin’,
the Earl of Kintyre’s daughter, who would be arriving very late.
And as Eammon wore her father’s crest on his livery, which matched
the crest on her trunk, she was led to her room with all the
civility a woman of her station was afforded.

Sitting at the small table in the half-light
of the early dawn, Fiona waited for Eammon’s return. He was to
bring back the carriage and horse, and return to the Bainbridge for
he was no longer a part of Cantin’s household.

Fiona heaved a sigh of relief. No one would
think to look for her until later today, or maybe even tomorrow.
Robert would surely remain in his comatose state for the better
part of two days together, which would give Fiona time for her own
undisturbed rest. She refused to give in to the tears that
threatened. This was the best course, and she heard her father’s
voice in her head – ‘Twill do you no good to lament over the past.
Get on with the business at hand and look to the future.

And she would. Greenleigh’s sincere offer of
assistance was a welcome advantage as she was sure Robert would
presume she would weep and thrash over his dalliance with Mary
Elizabeth. Hah! He did not know her at all. Fiona had plans to
make. She had no time for Robert or his
emotions
. She would
get on with the business at hand and that did not include him.

A soft knock sounded at the door. Eammon.

She opened the door. “Had you any trouble?”
Fiona asked.

“No, mum. All was quiet.”

“Good. Now I want you to go to your room and
get a well-deserved rest. I shall not require you until later this
afternoon say four o’clock. If you wish to eat, the kitchen will
serve you on my bill. Only do not forget to say you are from the
Earl of Kintyre’s household. Can you remember that?”

“Of course, my lady.”

She smiled. “You are a good man, Eammon, and
soon all will be right. Now get your rest.” She started to close
the door.

“Are you sure this is what you wish, my
lady?”

Fiona appreciated his concern deeply. “Yes,
Eammon. It is exactly what I wish.” Perhaps if she told herself
that enough times she would believe it.

He gave her a nod, and walked off to the
servants’ staircase. Fiona closed the door, locked it, and went
into her new bedroom. Taking off her ball gown and under-layers,
she slipped her nightgown over her head and crawled between the
covers. She went to take off her wedding rings and when she didn’t
find them, she let the tears flow freely. She had purposely left
them behind in the box on the bed at Cantin House.

Fiona found she had little trouble sleeping.
She awoke at half-one in the afternoon and felt good and rested.
Merry sat at the little table with needlework when Fiona
appeared.

“Good morning, your ladyship, I mean, to say,
good afternoon,” Merry said rising from the chair.

“Good afternoon, Merry. Tell me, have you
eaten? I hope you did not wait for me.”

“No, my lady I have not. I did not know how
to go about it.”

Fiona smiled. “I’m quite sure I do not know
how either, but let us see if this works.” Fiona walked to the bell
pull by the door and gave it a yank. “I trust you slept well.”

“I did. ‘Tis a lovely mattress. And
yourself?”

“Surprisingly, I slept very well. Very well
indeed.” Perhaps because she knew she had done the right thing in
leaving Robert.

A knock came on the door. Merry answered and
found a footman whom she ushered into the room.

“My name is Bolton, your ladyship. I am the
floor steward. How may I be of assistance?”

“Mr. Bolton, I believe we are quite famished.
However, I do not wish to go down to the restaurant. Is it possible
to have a tray brought up?”

Bolton bowed. “Of course.” He turned to the
small table by the door and handed her a bill of fare. “If you have
a special request, our chef would be delighted to accommodate
you.”

Fiona perused the menu and asked Merry what
she would like. They both settled on a rasher of ham and eggs, with
apple tarts, scones, and muffins to nibble on later, along with two
pots of tea, a pot of hot chocolate, and a pitcher of lemonade.

Bolton bowed again. “I will have it brought
up directly.”

“Mr. Bolton, could you tell me, are there any
other guests on this floor?”

“Not on this side of the hotel, my lady. Your
cousin requested you be given the quietest rooms in the house. He
did not wish for you to be disturbed.”

Fiona smiled. Greenleigh certainly was a
blessing. “Thank you, Mr. Bolton. You’ve been most helpful.”

He bowed and left the room.

Fiona turned to Merry. “I believe I will
dress now while we wait for luncheon.” She waved her hand as Merry
went to accompany her. “Do not trouble yourself. I will slip into
one of my old calico’s and return presently.”

Fiona dressed, luncheon was brought up and
while they ate, Fiona composed several letters. Just finished with
their meal, there was a knock on the door. Merry answered and she
ushered Eammon into the parlour.

“Have you eaten, Eammon? Would you care for a
tart, a cup of tea perhaps?”

“No, thank you, mum. I had my fill down in
the servants hall. I know you said four o’clock for me to come to
ye’, but I have some news I thought you might like to see.” Eammon
took a newssheet from under his jacket. “’Tis the morning edition I
filched, er, borrowed from the maitre‘d hotel.”

Fiona took the paper and unfolded it, having
to look no further than the screaming headline.

Duke of Cantin Courts Old Flame at Cantin
Ball in Front Of New Duchess

Last night at the Cantin Ball, it seemed the
Dashing Duke lost his head when his former betrothed entered the
ballroom. The lovely Lady Fiona soldiered on with a brave face when
her handsome husband cut her directly and danced the first waltz
with Countess de Lavallier, a scandalous breach of etiquette in any
Society. What next for our dear Scottish lass?

Fiona threw back her head and laughed. What
next indeed? Fiona wished she could see Robert’s face when he read
the article.

“Thank you, Eammon,” she said. “This is a
most interesting diversion. However, now that you are here, I have
several errands for you to run.”

She showed him the letters and the
package.

“And you must remember,” Fiona emphasized,
“to tell Berkely and Goss that under no circumstances are they to
contact His Grace with any memorandum concerning these documents.
The duke does not want to be reminded of his foolish marriage and
wishes to put it all behind him.”

“Yes, your ladyship,” Eammon said. “Under no
circumstances.”

“Good. And if you would not mind waiting for
a response from Greenleigh, I would appreciate it.”

“Of course, mum.”

There was a knock at the door and Merry
answered it. “Lord Greenleigh, my lady.”

“Greenleigh, how delightful, do come in,”
Fiona said, perhaps a bit too brightly. Sending off the annulment
papers had her wrestling with her conscience as well as her
emotions. However, she did not want to break down in front of her
servants, and Greenleigh was the perfect distraction. She turned to
Eammon and took the letter she had penned to the earl off the
pile.

“Thank you, Eammon. I’ve written the
direction on the package. Do you think you should need some
coin?”

“No, my lady. I have enough.”

“Very well.” She turned to Greenleigh.
“Please, do come in, where are my manners? Would you care for a
cup? Merry would you mind?” She led him over to the divan and Fiona
sat in the overstuffed chair. “Shall we sit down then.”

“I must say, you look quite fine today,”
Greenleigh said as he settled himself.

Merry brought the tea tray with a small plate
of apple tarts.

“Thank you, Merry.” Fiona smiled. “You may
finish your needlepoint if you wish.”

Fiona poured, and said, “Thank you kindly for
your compliment, Greenleigh. Perhaps a little too dowdy for a
duchess, although just enough for an Earl’s daughter. I must say,
this is an excellent hotel. Thank you so much for your kind
recommendation.”

“’Twas the least I could do. Tell me, have
you seen the papers today?” He took his cup and sipped.

“Only one. Why, is there much gossip?”

Greenleigh chuckled. “You are the talk of
Society once again, Lady Fiona.”

“What are they saying? Or I wonder whether I
should ask, who is the favorite to win?”

“I believe the odds are in your favor. At
least at White’s and Brook’s. The Countess is not doing very well
in the standings. The dowagers are in an outrage, thanks in part to
Lady Olivia.”

“How so?” It was Fiona’s turn to be
intrigued.

“I have heard Lady Olivia has rallied her
friends against the Countess in an effort to blackball her from
Society.”

“My goodness, can she even do that?” Fiona
was aghast the dowager held such power.

“Oh yes. And then some. It seems Lady Olivia
has more influence than all the hostesses at Almack’s put
together.”

“Well, it serves the Countess right for
ruining my lovely ball.” Fiona smiled.

“And your marriage,” Greenleigh said
quietly.

“I shan’t lay all the blame at Mary
Elizabeth’s feet. I must lay some with Robert as well.”

“I do not know how you can bear it, Lady
Fiona. If I were in your shoes I should be abed weeping for at
least a fortnight.”

“’Twould do no good, Greenleigh. Cantin does
not possess a sympathetic bone in his body when it comes to me.
Why, he will probably wake from his stupor and dance a jig when he
finds I’m gone.”

“I would not take a bet on that, your
ladyship. I believe you will find Cantin to be in a rage when he
finds you gone.”

“Well, then he shall surely have an apoplexy
when the annulment papers are delivered.”

Greenleigh cast her an odd look. “What are
you saying?”

“I have signed his damnable annulment
papers,” Fiona said. “He made the mistake of showing them to me in
a fit of pique several weeks ago. Last night, after he was abed, I
signed them in his name, used his signet, and just now sent Eammon
to deliver them to his solicitor. In six weeks, I shall no longer
be the Duchess of Cantin and he will be free to marry the Countess
de Lavallier.”

“Lady Fiona you cannot do that! It is against
the law! Why, it is forgery.”

“Greenleigh, who is to tell? No one knows
what I am about, save you. And I trust you will not expose me.
After all the Countess is a delectable enticement, would you not
say? If anyone should ask, I will say I presumed Robert realized he
no longer wished to be married to me and laid his signature to the
paperwork after the ball. As inebriated as he was last night, he
could have run down Marylebone Street naked and he would not
remember.”

A slow smile spread across Greenleigh’s face.
“My dear Lady Fiona, your eye for detail is exquisite. You could be
a spy for the army.”

Fiona giggled. “No, Greenleigh. I am
determined is all. My marriage was doomed from the start. I gave it
a valiant effort, but I know when to fold my cards. When Robert
danced with the Countess, I knew he would never love me the way he
loves her. I knew from…the way he held her….” Fiona choked back a
sob. “Forgive me.”

Greenleigh leaned across the small table.
“Lady Fiona. This is too much for you.”