The Irish Duke (35 page)

“I will try my best to make it so.” Louisa tried to give her a convincing smile, though on the inside she felt anything but confident about their future happiness.

“My first marriage was a love match. I suppose bliss like that only comes along once in a lifetime.” Harriet sighed. “James was witness only to my marriage to Aberdeen. That’s the reason he is determined to have a joyful marriage. I know he will do all in his power to make you happy.”

Louisa chose her words carefully. “It’s obvious you love him very much.”

“You will delight in Barons Court. It is a magical place. I envy you your summer. My time there was all too short. Promise me you will enjoy every single day.”

“I am looking forward to Barons Court. I have never been to Ireland.”
At least that is no lie.

When James tapped on the door and opened it, Louisa was relieved. The last thing she wanted was to say something that would hint at her and James’s strained relationship.

Harriet had suffered enough unhappiness and ill health, and Lu didn’t want to add to her burden. “Dinner is at seven, but if you would prefer it, I can bring you up a tray.”

“Thank you, that’s most thoughtful. But I will come down. I want to spend time with both of you. Just seeing you together gives me pleasure.”

 

As they descended the stairs, James said, “Thank you for making her happy. ’Tis obvious Mother approves of you.”

Louisa was aware of the irony in his words. “She is a lovely lady. She gives me her approval unstintingly.”

James changed the subject. “You still have to sign the marriage contract. Your father and I agreed on the terms weeks ago, and the attorneys have duly witnessed it. Your signature is only a formality, of course. Shall we go to the library and take care of it before dinner?”

“Yes, if you like.” She walked passively beside him down the long hallway that led to Gordon Castle’s library. Louisa, always sensitive to the emotions of others, could feel the cold anger that emanated from Abercorn. His polite manner emphasized rather than masked his true inner feelings.

In the library, the document sat on the huge black oak desk, which was illuminated by a pair of silver stag- horn lamps. Louisa sat down at the desk and pulled the crackling contract toward her. “I think this is a mistake. My marriage portion is five thousand pounds, not twelve.”

“There is no mistake.” James walked over and closed the library door before he came back to the desk. “I negotiated a dowry of twelve thousand, and a personal allowance for you of one thousand per annum.”

Louisa sprang to her feet. Her passivity vanished in a flash. “My father agreed to pay you twelve thousand?” she demanded incredulously. “He bought you for me! This is nothing short of a bribe!” Green fire flashed in her eyes, as she smote the desk with her fist. “You Irish swine! The insult to me is intolerable. I have never been so humiliated in my life!”

“Keep your voice down, mistress.”

“Give me no orders, Abercorn. My family is buying me a husband. The exorbitant price you have demanded is more than double my dowry, and you expect me to keep my voice down? The wedding is off! I’ll be no bartered bride.”

He stepped close and towered above her. “That is the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard—selfish, cruel, and thoughtless. Your family adores you. They want only your happiness. For evidence, look at all the planning they have put into this wedding. To thank them you want to fling it in their face and refuse to go through with it.”

Louisa was incensed to be called
selfish.
The accusation was totally, completely false. “It’s a mockery!”

“If I am willing, you should be able to swallow your self-righteous pride.”

Louisa gasped at his insult.

“You may not care how much you hurt
your
mother, but I will not permit you to hurt mine. We
will
be married tomorrow, Lady Lu.”

A picture of Harriet came full-blown into her mind. She knew James’s mother was dying. How could she hurt her?
For that matter, how can I hurt my own family?
Pride came to her rescue. She raised her chin defiantly. “My father has bought your name. ’Tis the only thing I want from you. I agree to become Lady Abercorn, tomorrow. But the marriage will be in name only.”

“An excellent arrangement. Your wishes mirror mine exactly.” He picked up the pen and handed it to her.

She plucked it from his fingers with a smile, and in exquisite penmanship signed:
Louisa Jane Russell.
Then she deliberately shook the pen and marred the legal document with myriad, ugly inkblots.

 

“They look like angels,” Louisa whispered to her father, as her young attendants walked down the aisle of the castle chapel. Little Rachel was paired with Alexander; her brothers Henry, Cosmo, and Jack accompanied her female cousins. Claud, who was his brother’s grooms-man, escorted Georgy, her maid of honor.

John Russell squeezed his daughter’s hand and led her toward the altar where James Hamilton awaited his bride.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the minister solemnly intoned.

Louisa did not glance up at the groom but kept her eyes straight ahead. The altar was draped in purple velvet embroidered with gold. Tall scented tapers in silver candlesticks flickered beside alabaster vases filled with white lilies and roses. Through her veil she could see that in the bouquet she carried, white heather was tucked between the other flowers. White heather was traditional at Scottish weddings. It was a symbol of good fortune and assured the bride that all her wishes would come true. It brought a lump to her throat.

Her mind wandered back to last night’s dinner. Both she and James had balanced precariously on the knife edge of disaster. Not by word or look did they convey to their families that aught was amiss between them. By unspoken, mutual consent they played the role of a loving couple.

“I will.”

Abercorn’s deep voice brought her thoughts back to the present and she realized the minister had asked him if he would take her to be his wedded wife. She gave her full attention to the Scots clergyman.

“Louisa Jane, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I will.”
You are always the consummate actress, Louisa.

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”

“I do.” Her father took her hand and gave it to James Hamilton.

You giveth twelve thousand pounds for this woman to be married to this man!
Louisa examined her emotions and, here in the sight of God, knew she could not lie. Though the amount of her dowry was exorbitant, the real reason she had declared their marriage would be in name only was because she was afraid. It would be her shield and buckler against intimacy with the devastatingly attractive Irishman.

They pledged their troth to each other, and then James slipped the wedding ring on her finger and the minister pronounced them man and wife. Louisa raised her veil and lowered her lashes as her husband bent his head and gave her a chaste kiss.

Ethereal voices of the choir in the gallery floated above the congregation as Louisa turned from the altar. She saw the beaming faces of her young attendants and the smiles of her family in the front row. The ancient chapel was filled to overflowing by the Duke of Gordon’s neighbors and the entire castle staff, all wearing white favors.

When the music of the wedding march began, James took her arm and led her down the aisle. As they emerged from the chapel, a flag went up, and the crowd that had gathered outside began to cheer. A piper led the wedding party back to the castle.

Amid the festive air the bride and groom were soon separated. Every guest embraced Louisa and wished her happiness. James was congratulated by the males and kissed by the females.

Long buffet tables groaned under huge platters of Spey salmon, roast beef, venison, and lamb. Stuffed game birds, running the gamut from grouse and plover to heron and swan, tempted every palate. Dishes of vegetables vied for space with salvers of shellfish and trays of fruit such as figs and peaches imported from warmer climes. Ale, port, claret, and Scotch whiskey flowed aplenty to wash down the copious amounts of food.

All the Gordon staff and tenants were invited to join the aristocratic guests and partake of the food, drink, and Scottish dancing. After a particularly boisterous reel, Claud told his brother, “The members of this family certainly know how to enjoy themselves. You are a lucky dog, James.”

When it was full dark, a towering seven-tiered wedding cake was rolled into the ballroom. On top sat a sugared replica of the chapel, with the figures of the bride and groom and their wedding attendants standing before the altar.

Louisa and James made the first cut of the cake with an ancient Gordon sword. The wedding cake was served with champagne. The toasts began and lasted for two hours, before the Highland dancing resumed.

At midnight, all who could still walk made their way outside to watch a brilliant fireworks display. Georgina took her daughter by the hand and led her to James. “Now is your chance to escape. Hurry, before I start to cry.”

Abercorn gave his mother-in-law a quick embrace. “Thank you for everything.” He took his bride’s hand and they made a dash for the stairs.

Only when the bridal chamber door closed did they feel free to drop their pretense.

“Allow me to compliment you on your performance. You made everyone happy today.” James removed his formal coat and silk neck cloth.

“Thank heaven it’s over.” Louisa removed her headdress.
But it isn’t over; it has only just begun.
She stared at the wide bed that some romantic had strewn with white rose petals. She glanced up as James walked across the spacious tower room to the far window, ostensibly to watch the fireworks.

He’s being civilized, giving me privacy to undress.
She removed her wedding gown and undergarments then slipped on the white silk nightdress that lay across her pillow. She stared at her husband’s back and realized that the gulf between them was far greater than the distance across the room.

She turned the lamp down and got into bed. “Good night, Lord Abercorn.”

Without turning from the window, he said softly, “Good night, Lu.”

James waited an hour, giving her ample time to fall asleep, before he began to undress. The chamber boasted a comfortable chaise longue where he could sleep. He picked up the nightshirt, which had been provided to preserve his bride’s modesty. When he slipped it over his head, it came down to only his navel. He realized the nightshirt had been cut in half and smiled at the innocent prank of Louisa’s young brothers. He removed it and lay down naked, which was the way he always slept.

He lay quietly but sleep eluded him. Finally he got up and moved silently to the bed. In the pale moonlight Louisa appeared ethereal. Her lovely face, in repose, had a look of vulnerability that tugged at his heartstrings.

He remembered his thoughts when he told his mother that he’d asked Louisa to marry him:
I loved her for years, but I don’t know how I feel about her now.
As he looked down at his sleeping wife, James knew exactly how he felt.
I’m still in love with her. She is my heart’s desire.
If he was being honest, it was his towering pride that had been deeply wounded at the thought that she could love another.

He picked up his coat and removed the boutonnière. Then he laid the sprig of white heather beside her on the pillow.

When he went back to his couch, he lay with his arms folded beneath his head and allowed his fury full rein.
I will find the man responsible for hurting her, so help me God!

“I
reland certainly lives up to her reputation for beauty. Every view pleases the eye and captures the imagination.” Louisa gazed through the window of the carriage at the picturesque Sperrin Mountains. “How far is Barons Court?”

“We are on the estate now. It covers twenty-seven miles. The house lies in a sheltered valley of the foothills.” James cast her a glance of admiration. “You are a very good traveler.” The day after their wedding, they had left for Glasgow, where they had taken a steamer to Londonderry.

“I warrant that’s because of your good planning. The journey didn’t take too many days.” Louisa was relieved that Abercorn had taken two cabins aboard the steamer and was honoring their agreement. He treated her with respect, which helped to maintain a polite facade, even though the strain between them was just beneath the surface.

She drew in her breath as the setting sun reflected on a lake, turning the water to glistening gold. They passed two more lakes, and then a lovely gray stone house with a clock tower came into view. “Oh, it’s enchanting!”

James laughed. “That’s just the lodge.”

The carriage drove through the arch below the clock tower into vast parkland with its own wood. Beyond the park rose Barons Court, a magnificent Palladian mansion, complete with portico and classical Roman columns. “It’s most impressive.”
It’s overwhelming. I wonder if this is the way Mother felt when she first saw Woburn? No, she was far too sophisticated and worldly to be intimidated.
Louisa raised her chin. “Mother will love it. She promised to come for a visit before summer ends.”

Before the coach rolled to a complete stop in the courtyard, James jumped out so he could help Louisa alight. The staff of Barons Court was gathered on the portico to greet the master and his bride.

“This is Kate Connelly, our head housekeeper, and her hard-working staff. I’m proud to present my wife, Lady Louisa. I know you will serve her with devotion.”