The Irish Duke (19 page)

James smiled to himself as he heard her quietly singing the lyrics. He knew that she longed to be up there performing. She was enjoying herself, so he decided to wait until intermission to make his presence known. As the curtain came down and the audience clapped and whistled its appreciation, he bent forward and murmured, “Lady Lu is obviously stagestruck.”

Startled, she turned and glared at him. “You simian dolt! I almost jumped out of my skin.”

He grinned. “Because I caught you doing something wicked.”

“I have never done anything wicked in my life,” she hissed.

“Not yet you haven’t . . . but wouldn’t you just love to?” he teased.

“I’d love to stab you in the eye with my hatpin!”

“Bloodthirsty wench. Wouldn’t it be more exciting to go backstage after the performance?”

Louisa caught her breath. “Would that be possible?”

“I might be persuaded to arrange it.”

She raised her chin and challenged, “At what price?”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “What price would you be willing to pay?”

“You devil!” She turned her back on him and made her mind up to completely ignore him.
Could he really take me backstage?

She sat with her back straight, staring at the maroon velvet curtain. She wasn’t looking at him, but that didn’t mean she was unaware of him.
How dare he follow me into the theater!
His presence behind her was both compelling and disturbing.
What is it about Abercorn that arouses my anger?
She knew the answer. He was far too perceptive
. He can read me like a bloody book!

After the intermission, the lights went down and the curtain rose. Once again she became so absorbed in the performance that she almost forgot he was there. Almost.

His presence, however, did not detract from her enjoyment. If anything, it was engagingly provocative and added a certain piquancy.

When the musical ended and the final curtain came down, Louisa applauded with great enthusiasm. She became aware of Abercorn clapping behind her and glanced over her shoulder at him.

“I take it you don’t wish to go backstage?”

She hesitated for long moments, then blurted, “You know damn well I wish to go.”

James masked his amusement. “Then I shall take you. Without any strings attached . . . this time.”

Her pulse raced with excitement. They stood together in the aisle until the audience filed out. Then Abercorn led the way backstage. Her heart hammered as she gazed about, drinking in the behind-the-scenes magic. There was a clutter of ropes, scenery, stage props, and costumes. Actors and performers of both sexes mingled about, laughing, cursing, and singing. All seemed a blur of vivid, colorful confusion that filled Louisa’s senses with exhilaration. Just to breathe the same air as the performers filled her with excitement. She inhaled the exotic scents of makeup, sweat, and musty garments as if it were the elixir of life. “It’s all so thrilling!”

James watched the wonder on her face and it filled him with pleasure. He knew he had made her happy and he realized he wanted to do it every day for the rest of her life. “This way.” He walked a direct path to a door marked
dressing room
and knocked.

“Enter,” a chorus of female voices sang out.

Abercorn opened the door and ushered Louisa inside where a bevy of females were in various stages of undress. Mirrors lined one wall and in front of the mirrors was a long shelf that held makeup and wigs. Costumes were strewn about everywhere.

“James! You stayed for the performance.” Kitty was clearly delighted.

“Yes. I brought my friend . . . Jane . . . to meet you. The stage fascinates her.” He looked at Louisa and again used her middle name. “Jane, I’d like you to meet Kitty Kelly.”

Louisa gazed at the pretty girl’s lovely red hair. “I’m thrilled to meet you. It must be so exciting to sing and dance before an audience. I’ve seen
The Brigand
twice and fully intend to come again. I already know all the words to the songs you sing and all the dance steps.”

“Sure and I’m glad you enjoyed it, Jane.”

She heard the lilt in the girl’s voice
. She’s Irish. That’s how he knows her. Perhaps she’s more than a friend
. Louisa’s blood slowed in her veins as her sister’s words came back to her:
A dancer can’t manage without a man to pay her bills. Girls on the stage have lovers to pay for their rooms, and clothes, and carriages.
She felt her heart constrict.
Kitty is his mistress!
She told herself that all young men had mistresses.
It matters naught to me . . . I don’t care if Abercorn has a dozen!

She was covered with chagrin as it dawned on her that he hadn’t followed her into the theater after all. He had come to watch Kitty Kelly perform. Louisa turned to address Hamilton. “Thank you for bringing me backstage. It was very kind of you. I mustn’t take up any more of your time. Good afternoon, Abercorn. Good-bye, Kitty.”

She turned and walked from the dressing room. It was a full minute before she realized that James was following her. “Please stay. I don’t wish to interfere with your plans.”

“Kitty and I have no plans.”

“Kitty . . . what a perfect name for an Irish chorus girl,” she said lightly.

It suddenly dawned on him that Louisa was jealous and his heart began to sing. “I do have plans, however, to see you safely back to Belgrave Square.”

“That isn’t necessary. I’m not a child, Abercorn.”

“I don’t think of you as a child, Lady Lu. To me you are a desirable woman. One who shouldn’t be walking the streets alone.”

“I have no intention of walking.”

“You’d trust yourself alone in a carriage with me?”

“Don’t be absurd.” She tried not to laugh but failed. “You are insufferable. Why do you enjoy tormenting me?”

“For the sheer pleasure of watching your face. When you are angry, your green eyes glitter like emeralds. Your nostrils flare, and you draw your lips back from your teeth, as if you are going to bite me. You have a wild beauty that I cannot resist.”

“You are a madman!” She pretended outrage, but she was extremely flattered. She watched him hail a hackney and her pulse raced as she wondered if she could trust him in a carriage. When he took the seat opposite her, rather than sitting beside her, she wasn’t sure if she felt relief or disappointment.

Silence stretched between them, as James looked out the window. A passing church jogged his memory. “My stepfather, Aberdeen, has a house on South Audley Street. When I was a boy, he made us walk to his church in Drury Lane and back home again. He was a strict Presbyterian and the use of a carriage on Sunday was strictly forbidden.”

“South Audley to Drury Lane and back? That’s several miles.”

“It didn’t harm Claud or me, but it was very taxing for my mother, at certain times.”

He means when his mother was with child
. Louisa felt outrage. “Aberdeen is a monster, and all in the name of religion. Why is it that husbands feel the need to exercise complete control over their wives?”

“Not all husbands, Louisa. I warrant your father doesn’t control his wife.”

She laughed. “He sometimes tries, but he seldom succeeds.”

“You are very fortunate, Louisa, that your parents have a loving relationship. I would wager that is the secret of a happy marriage.”

“Marriage doesn’t appeal to me,” she said quickly in an attempt to erect a barrier between them.

“You’d rather be a dancer on the stage than a wife and mother.”

“A thousand times over! But that’s impossible,” she said wistfully. “Do you still live on South Audley Street when you are in London?”

“Not a chance! I have my own townhouse on Half Moon Street.”

The hackney stopped in Belgrave Square and James opened the door, stepped down, and helped Louisa alight. “I take it you will be attending the matinee performance again next Wednesday afternoon, so why don’t you allow me to escort you?”

“How can you so easily discern my intensions?”

He smiled into her eyes. “Irish intuition, I suppose.”

She hesitated, but the lure he held out was too tempting to resist. “I shall accept your kind offer. You may call for me next Wednesday.”

Louisa had been home for an hour before she remembered the sugared mouse he had offered her at the Carlton House party when she was a child.
He offered me something I couldn’t resist and today he did it again. You are a shrewd Irish devil, Abercorn!

At dinner John Russell addressed his daughter. “Louisa, was that James Hamilton who escorted you home this afternoon?”

Louisa blushed.
Damnation, he must have seen us from the library window.
“Yes, Father.” She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t ask where she had been.

“Why on earth didn’t you invite him in? That was rather ill-mannered of you.”

Georgy was furious. “You said you didn’t have an assignation!”

“I didn’t. Abercorn and I met by accident.”

“How very clever of you, darling.” Georgina threw her daughter an approving glance. “Have you arranged any more accidental meetings?”

“No!” Louisa had to backtrack immediately. “Actually, Abercorn is escorting me to a matinee performance at the theater next Wednesday.”

“How lovely. Having a marquis pay his addresses is a feather in your cap. Did I mention that after your debutante ball, the Marquis of Lansdowne called to ask if his son Lord Kerry could pay his addresses to you?”

Louisa stole a quick glance at her sister and saw her face was like a thundercloud. She could not bear the thought of Georgy’s feelings being crushed. She improvised quickly, “Yes, Mother, you did mention that Lord Kerry asked if he could pay his addresses to Georgy and me.”

The Duke of Bedford smiled. “Did you girls know that Henry Petty, Marquis of Lansdowne, once proposed to your mother? Now it seems the Pettys are after my daughters.” He chuckled. “I suppose hope springs eternal.”

Georgy looked somewhat mollified, but the duchess was aware that her remark had hurt her eldest daughter and she deftly changed the subject. “The Royal Masquerade Ball is next week. We really must see about costumes tomorrow.”

“I can wear my Spanish dancing costume,” Louisa offered.

“But darling, everyone will know it is you,” her mother objected. “The whole point of a masquerade is to hide your identity.”

“I could wear your Spanish costume, Lu, and everyone would think I was you.”

Louisa felt alarm. Georgy got up to all sorts of promiscuous behavior.

“We will go to the
costumiers
tomorrow and see what strikes our fancy,” the duchess declared. “When I was your age, I went as Diana, goddess of the hunt.”

“Don’t encourage our daughters to be licentious, Georgina.” John Russell frowned his disapproval. “Provocative costumes invite provocative behavior.”

“Yes, darling, I remember it well,” Georgina teased.

 

The following afternoon, the duchess and her two daughters were busy trying on costumes. Bedecked in a large lace ruff and a stomacher, Georgina gazed into the mirror. “I don’t believe the Virgin Queen suits me and I know damn well your father would refuse to wear tights. I don’t think he’d demur at being King Charles Stuart, however.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Mother.”

“There’s method in my madness, Louisa. If he is Charles, I can be Barbara Castlemaine, Duchess of Cleveland. A king’s mistress is sure to cause a stir and I can wear one of those fabulous cavalier hats with a sweeping ostrich feather. I shall also need a silk mask and some face patches.” She moved toward the dressing room to remove the Elizabethan gown. “What have you chosen, Louisa?”

“It’s a dancer’s costume,” she said evasively, “but not Spanish.”

“Is it a famous dancer, darling?”

“If you must know, it’s pretty, witty Nell Gwyn.”

“Oh, how very droll. King Charles and
both
of his favorite mistresses. The
ton
will be agog. Best not mention it to your father ahead of time.” She laughed wickedly. “Better keep it as a surprise.” She called out to her other daughter in the next room. “What have you chosen, Georgy?”

“Like Lu, I shall keep it as a surprise.”

Louisa and her mother rolled their eyes and went off in a peal of giddy laughter.

 

“Dressed as King Charles Stuart, you are tempting as sin.” The Duchess of Bedford stood on tiptoe and kissed her husband. “I think it’s the slim mustache that attracts me.”

“I know what attracts me,” John said, running his finger across the swell of one half-exposed breast. “Trouble is it will attract every other male bent on seduction.”

“Then I make a perfect Barbara Castlemaine. She was never faithful to Charles.”

John turned as his daughter descended the stairs in a flowing white robe. “Now there’s a costume I fully approve of. You make a lovely novitiate nun, Louisa.”

“It is Georgy!” She lifted her white silk mask.

“Good heavens, darling, I never would have expected you to choose a nun’s habit,” her mother declared. “The wimple covers your lovely hair.”

“This is a perfect disguise. I’m going to have great fun tonight.”

When Louisa came down, she was wearing her cloak, which completely covered her costume. She had tucked her dark hair beneath a wig of saucy red curls.

Her mother laughed with delight. “Now I know what baby Rachel will look like when she grows up. The carriage is waiting . . . we’ll be fashionably late as usual. I wonder what Queen Adelaide will be wearing.”

Saint James’s Palace was lit up like a Christmas tree for the Royal Masquerade Ball, and even the liveried servants wore masks. The Russell sisters, eager to distance themselves from their parents, melted into the crowd of costumed revelers. Louisa spied Red Riding Hood and knew immediately that it was Lady Holland. A man in a wolf mask hovered behind her. Louisa tapped him on the shoulder. “Hello, Uncle Holly.”