The Irish Duke (21 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

BOOK: The Irish Duke
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“Lady Lu, I have thought of a way to make your fondest dream come true. What if I could arrange for you to sing and dance on Covent Garden’s stage for just one night?”
“That’s quite impossible. My parents would never allow it.”
“They’d never know. No one would know. If you wore a red wig, everyone would assume you were Kitty Kelly.”
She drew in a swift breath and her eyes filled with wonder. “You could arrange it?”
“Absolutely. Are you up to the challenge, Lady Lu?”
His proposition was almost too tempting to resist. “At what price?”
James looked deeply into her eyes. “What price would you be willing to pay?”
She thought about it for a full minute. As she hesitated, her longing threatened to overwhelm her caution. But she guessed exactly what price Abercorn was asking. She raised her chin and said primly, “My answer is no.”
 
When the carriage arrived in Belgrave Square, Charles rushed out of the house to speak to his friend James. He flourished a piece of paper. “I got confirmation. I’ve been accepted into the Household Cavalry as a first lieutenant.”
“Congratulations, Charles. Your fondest dream has been realized,” James replied.
His choice of words was not lost on Louisa. He was subtly pointing out that dreams could be realized, if you went after them. “I’m very happy for you, Charles.” She turned to James. “Thank you for your escort, Abercorn.”
Her brother did not follow her into the house. He remained outside talking to his friend. Louisa went upstairs, removed her hat, and washed her hands. When she came back down, her sister was waiting to hear all the details.
“Was I right, or was I wrong? Did Abercorn try to kindle your passion, or was it strictly platonic?”
Louisa blushed. “Don’t be silly, Georgy. We’re not even friends—we’re more like antagonists.”
Charles came into the house. “I was on tenterhooks about being accepted into the Household Cavalry. The regiment has height restrictions. At five feet, eleven inches I just made it.”
“Being accepted had more to do with who you are than your measurements,” Georgy asserted. “Our family is friends with both the king of England and the prime minister. There was never any doubt you’d get into the regiment of your choice.”
“That’s a damned lie, Georgy. I’m an honors graduate of Oxford and meet all the academic and physical requirements. Watch your tongue, or I won’t escort you to Almack’s tonight.”
Louisa looked surprised at his authoritative tone and Georgy rolled her eyes. “Charles thinks he’s in charge because Father has gone to Campden Hill. Mother sent a note that Rachel has chicken pox, and she thinks Alexander has caught it too.”
“Oh, poor little monkeys,” Louisa sympathized.
“She says they are not very ill. She’s having a devil of a time keeping them in bed.”
“Since they don’t want to bring the infection to their precious daughters, they won’t be returning to London for at least a week. In the meantime, I’m the authority figure here, so don’t you forget it.”
Both sisters gave him a mock salute. “Aye-aye, Lieutenant Bloody Russell.”
“Don’t expect me to dance attendance on you tonight. I’m only going to gamble.”
“And to brag about your commission!” Georgy taunted.
“I invited James to join me.”
“Why the devil did you do that?” Louisa demanded.
“Misery loves company—that’s why. The place will be filled with matchmaking mothers, desperate to unload their simpering daughters.”
“I’m neither simpering nor desperate,” Lu declared. “Perhaps I won’t go.”
“Don’t be selfish! The season is so short; I can’t afford to pass up any opportunities to socialize with the opposite sex. I plan to wear my new ball gown.”
 
In spite of having threatened not to attend, Louisa was ready and waiting by the time Charles came downstairs wearing the requisite knee breeches. She had been preoccupied with James Hamilton’s proposal ever since he made it, but she was determined to put it from her mind. She reasoned that a night at Almack’s would surely divert her thoughts.
It was almost ten o’clock when they arrived. Charles did his duty by his sisters and remained in the ballroom for half an hour before he disappeared upstairs.
Louisa kept a sharp watch for Abercorn’s arrival while she filled out her dance card and was led onto the floor by various partners. She agreed to dance with Ned Turnour, Earl of Winterton, and was pleasantly surprised when he did not speak of cricket. Next she danced with Lord Seymour. He was a Whig Member of Parliament and spoke of the reform bill that her brother Johnny was sponsoring.
“I’m sure Lord John will welcome your support, Adolphus. He shouldn’t have any trouble in the Commons, but when it goes to the Lords, it is not a certainty.”
“I’m sure my father will follow my lead, Lady Louisa.”
She smiled at him.
The Duke of Somerset is a leader, not a follower.
By eleven o’clock when Abercorn had not arrived, she knew that Almack’s doors would be closed and no more patrons would be admitted. Disappointment clouded her mood and she accepted Lord Kerry’s offer to escort her to supper.
It was one o’clock in the morning before she saw her sister. “Are you enjoying yourself, Georgy?”
“Most of the men dancing are second sons, looking for heiresses. I danced twice with Maurice Berkeley, before I realized it was his brother who is the earl. I walked past the gaming rooms and all the interesting gentlemen are playing cards, not dancing.”
“I don’t suppose Charles will be ready to leave for hours,” Louisa guessed.
“I thought I had a lively prospect when the young Duke of Queensberry asked to partner me. But after the dance, Lady Cowper made a point of telling me the lecherous devil took a wife last year.”
“Speaking of Lady Cowper, her husband is nowhere to be seen, but Lord Palmerston is dancing attendance on her.”
“So I see! The patronesses of Almack’s are supposed to be beyond reproach, but Cowper proves that’s a load of codswallop,” Georgy said, laughing.
“Hush, she will hear you,” Lu warned.
Because James Hamilton was absent, the hours dragged for Louisa. In her mind she relived her afternoon at the theater with him over and over. Finally, around four in the morning, Charles came downstairs to take them home. His pockets were to let, and he vowed that was the last time he would ever attend Almack’s.
Louisa lay abed but sleep proved to be elusive. Abercorn’s offer to arrange for her to dance at Covent Garden loomed more tempting with every passing hour. She had longed to do this all her life. She knew she could fill the role and even surpass Kitty’s performance. The only thing stopping her was paying Abercorn’s price.
Girls on the stage have lovers . . . men who expect sexual favors.
Lu turned over and thumped her pillow.
It boils down to two things—either you want to perform onstage or you don’t.
She knew she wanted it more than anything she’d ever wished for.
It’s a chance of a lifetime. Will you grab it with both hands, or will you take the coward’s way out and primly refuse?
Louisa made up her mind in an instant. With the dilemma resolved, she fell promptly asleep and didn’t awaken until afternoon.
 
“I’m going to visit Aunt Charlotte and tell her that Mother has gone to Campden Hill and will likely be there for at least a week because of Rachel’s chicken pox. Would you like to come with me, Georgy?”
“And have to sit there and listen to Sophie rabbit on about her wedding plans? Not bloody likely.”
Louisa smiled her secret smile. She knew that was exactly the answer her sister would give her. That was the reason she’d chosen Fife House as her fictitious destination.
She left the house, opened her red parasol, and walked down Grosvenor Crescent. She strolled through Green Park, then crossed Piccadilly. Though Half Moon Street was very short, she had no idea which townhouse belonged to Abercorn. She went up the steps and knocked on the door of the first residence.
A servant answered. His eyes swept over her and focused on the red parasol. Since she had no maid with her, he decided she was no lady. “Yes, Miss?”
“Does the Marquis of Abercorn live here?”
“No, Miss.” He tried to shut the door.
Louisa pushed it back open. “Do you know which house is Abercorn’s?”
“Yes, Miss.” Again he tried to shut the door.
“Damn your insolence, sir.” She closed her parasol and, holding it as a weapon, threatened him. “Point out his house to me, or you will feel my point!”
The servant pointed his finger at the house across the street then slammed the door.
Louisa crossed over and knocked on the door. When a manservant answered, she was ready for him. With the light of battle in her eyes, she pointed the parasol at him. “Lady Louisa Russell to see the Marquis of Abercorn. Announce me, or else.”
He grinned. “Or else ye’ll give me the Chinese torture. This way, m’lady.”
She followed him into the front hall. “What, pray, is the Chinese torture?”
“Sure an’ that’s when ye shove yer closed parasol up my arse and pull it down open.”
Before Louisa could whoop with laughter a voice from above thundered, “Phineas!” James Hamilton rapidly descended the stairs and dismissed the servant. “I’m sorry, Lu. Please come upstairs.”
She didn’t try to hide her amusement. “One Irishman apologizing for another, begod! What is the world coming to?” She followed him up to a tastefully furnished sitting room but did not take the seat he offered.
James knew exactly why Louisa had come. He had been waiting for her. He had proffered the sugared mouse, and though it had taken a little time, he was sure she would not be able to resist the bait.
“I’ve decided to do it!” she said quickly, before she could change her mind.
“Do what, Lady Lu?”
“Take over Kitty’s part at Covent Garden Theatre for one night. That is, if you can arrange it for me.”
“I can and I will,” he promised.
If Kitty will do whatever you ask, she must be your mistress.
“Which night would you prefer? Choose one when you can be away from home all night, without arousing suspicion.”
Louisa almost asked
why
? Then she remembered she would be spending the night with him. She told herself it was a small price to pay to achieve her lifelong dream, but she didn’t convince herself for one minute. She couldn’t decide on a night.
“How about Wednesday? You can watch Kitty at the matinee and then take over for her at the evening performance.”
“Yes . . . yes. Wednesday would be best,” she quickly agreed.
He glanced at the parasol she was clutching. “Why don’t you put that down and have a seat?”
She knew she must look ridiculous and attempted a joke. “You wish to render me defenseless.”
“Your weapons are useless against my powers of persuasion, Louisa.”
In that case you may as well take me to your bedchamber now, you Irish lecher!
She did not voice the sarcastic remark but said sweetly, “Ah, will you stay me with flagons?”
“I won’t offer you wine, but I beg you stay for tea.”
“Thank you.” She took a seat and pretended nonchalance. “I have an ulterior motive.”
“Would you care to enlighten me?”
“Of course. I want to see if Phineas is capable of making and serving tea.”
In a remarkably short time after James spoke with his manservant, Phineas rolled in a teacart. Over one arm was draped a starched linen towel. There was an assortment of dainty watercress and cucumber sandwiches and some
petits fours
, along with the tea things. He proceeded to set up a small table beside her, with a damask napkin, a porcelain plate, and a small cream and sugar pot. Then he poured tea into a matching cup and saucer and handed it to her. “Will there be anything else, m’lady?”
“No, thank you, Phineas.” She could see the china was Spode. It had a claret border with a gold rim and Louisa was impressed, not just by the porcelain but also by the man who served it.
When he withdrew, James smiled. “Never underestimate an Irishman, Lu.”
She looked him in the eye over the gold rim of her teacup. “Forewarned is forearmed, Lord Abercorn.” She changed the subject to something less personal and spoke of the reform bill that Johnny was working on.
“Lord John has the potential to hold high office,” James declared.
“Father hopes he will be appointed to the cabinet. Prime Minister Grey includes him in cabinet meetings when the reform bill is being discussed.”
“And rightly so. I predict he will go far.”
Louisa had a sandwich and two cakes. She dabbed her lips with her napkin, then rose and picked up her parasol. “Thank you for the tea,” she said formally. “And for . . . the arrangement,” she added awkwardly.
“Your wish is my command,” he said lightly.
Until after my performance. Then your command will be whatever you wish, no doubt.
“Good-bye, my lord. I hope to see you on Wednesday.”
 
On Tuesday night, Louisa retired early. She practiced her dances and the words to her songs for hours. When she went to bed, she was far too excited to sleep and went over her performance in her mind’s eye again and again. To keep her fear at bay, her thoughts did not stray beyond the curtain coming down.
After lunch on Wednesday, James picked her up and took her to Covent Garden Theatre. Before they went through the stage door, Louisa put on the red wig and tucked in all her dark tendrils.
James escorted her into the dressing room, where Kitty greeted them eagerly.
“You can watch the matinee from the wings, Jane. I’ve told the other girls in the chorus that you’re performing in my place tonight, and the principal actors won’t notice. They never look at lowly chorus dancers.”

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