The Irish Duke (36 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

BOOK: The Irish Duke
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The men servants bowed and the women curtsied. “Lady Abercorn.”
“Oh please, no formality unless we have important guests.” She shook each servant’s hand. She asked them their names. Their faces were now wreathed with smiles. “Thank you for your warm welcome. I hope you will be patient with me. I have much to learn.”
“Everyone inside!” James took her arm and led the way. He leaned toward her and murmured, “Ye’ve kissed the Blarney Stone, begod. Ye’ll have ’em eatin’ outta yer hand.”
Just beyond the entrance was a large round room covered by a dome. A polished table sat at its center, holding a lead crystal vase filled with blue delphiniums. “This is the rotunda. The sun is setting now, but during the day, it lets in all the light.”
“It’s a marvelous design.”
“Yes, it has been updated. I’ve hired Sir Richard Morrison to redo portions of the house. I want you to redesign the rooms the way you’d like them. We’ll work on the plans together.”
You don’t really want my ideas. You are just being polite.
“Would ye like a tour of Barons Court, Lady Abercorn?”
“Not tonight, thank you, Mrs. Connelly.”
“I suspect all my wife wants is a bath and a comfortable bed.”
At a signal from the housekeeper, the staff returned to their duties in the kitchen or elsewhere. Only two young women remained. “Ye’ll be needing a lady’s maid. This is Meg and the plump one is Molly. The choice is yours, Lady Abercorn.”
Louisa looked at their eager faces and knew it would be cruel to choose one over the other. “I’d like both of you. Meg can run me a bath, and Molly can help me unpack.”
A manservant had brought in the bags from the carriage. “Did my luggage arrive from England, Mrs. Connelly?”
“Sure an’ all. I had everything taken to the master bedchamber. But nothing has been unpacked. I wouldn’t let anyone open your boxes and trunks until you were here to supervise.” Kate Connelly hesitated. “There was a furniture crate with a lovely dressing table set. I took the liberty of putting it in the chamber adjoining the master bedroom. It will make a lovely boudoir for you, my lady.”
“Thank you. That is a wedding present from my parents. The dressing table, mirrors, and gold basins once belonged to Josephine Bonaparte.”
“Would ye believe it?” Mrs. Connelly took it in her stride.
James picked up his bag, and the manservant took the two that belonged to Louisa. Abercorn led the way and his wife and her two young maids followed. Louisa’s eyes widened with pleasure as they entered the great hall where all the lights had been lit and logs were burning on a great open hearth. Beyond an archway was the main staircase.
The master bedchamber was on the second floor of the east wing so it would get the morning sunlight through its floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was huge. Though the bed was massive, there was plenty of space for cushioned easy chairs and a games table that sat before a large stone fireplace. Tall bookcases flanked the mirrored wardrobe, and a crimson Oriental carpet gave the room a rich warmth.
Meg bobbed a curtsy. “I’ll see to yer bath, my lady.”
Louisa stood awkwardly as James set his bag down beside a pile of luggage and trunks. Most of them belonged to her, but a few belonged to Abercorn.
“We’ll sort all this out tomorrow.” James noticed her disquiet and knew immediately what caused it. He moved toward a paneled door and opened it. “Milady’s boudoir.”
“Thank you.” Louisa felt weak with relief as she stepped into the room and saw that it contained a bed. The chamber was smaller than the master bedroom, but it was elegantly appointed and even had a writing desk.
The manservant set down her two bags. Louisa remembered his name was Joseph Smith. “Thank you, Joseph. Molly will help me unpack.” She opened the wardrobe, and the maid unfastened the straps on the leather bags.
“Oh, I’ve never seen anything as lovely in me life!” Molly carefully lifted out a lavender silk dress and carried it to the wardrobe with reverence. When she saw the purple undergarments that went with it, her eyes almost popped out of her head.
Meg tapped on the door and stepped into the boudoir. “Your bath is ready, my lady.”
“Thank you.” Louisa unpacked a nightdress and a velvet bed robe. “Just point the way to the bathing room. You can help Molly put my things in the wardrobe.”
Meg could see that the mistress wasn’t going to get dressed again tonight. “After yer bath, I’ll bring you up a dinner tray, my lady.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
Meg hesitated, and she threw a couple of glances toward the adjoining door and blushed. “I’ll bring it to the master bedchamber.”
“No. You may bring it here. This is where I shall be sleeping.”
Meg and Molly exchanged a surprised glance.
They might as well know this will be a marriage in name only. The sooner the entire staff knows it, the better.
She raised her chin, draped the nightdress and robe over her arm, and went in search of the bathing room.
 
James unpacked his bag and hung up his clothes. Then he separated his luggage from Louisa’s, put his shirts and smallclothes in one of the mahogany tallboys, and hung his suits and jackets in the wardrobe. He noticed that his things took up little space, leaving a great deal of room to accommodate his wife’s garments.
By the number of trunks waiting to be unpacked, she will need it.
He went downstairs and summoned his stewards to join him for dinner. The eighty-thousand-acre Barons Court estate with its tenants, home farm, crops, and livestock needed three overseers to manage it efficiently. Abercorn was pleased with their reports and assured them he would go over their tallies and accounts in the next few days.
They drank a toast to his health and wished him happiness in his marriage. Though there had been little joy in the union so far, James appreciated their Irish wit and their laughter. It helped to keep his bleak thoughts and festering anger at bay.
The hour was late when he went upstairs. He put his ear to the connecting door between the master bedchamber and her boudoir. He encountered only silence and concluded that Louisa was sleeping after their long journey. James turned up the lamp, glanced ruefully at the wide bed, and knew sleep would elude him.
He paced to the window, but the black night showed him nothing of his beloved landscape. He knelt and lit a small peat fire, not because he was cold but because the cheerful blaze and distinctive scent would keep him company.
He crossed to the bookcase, trailed his finger across the familiar titles, but found nothing to engage his interest. His wandering glance fell on the boxes and trunks waiting to be unpacked. Needing something to counter his restlessness, he opened one of the brassbound trunks. The scent of jasmine filled the air. His hand pushed the tissue aside to reveal a gown of crimson taffeta. Its bodice was richly embroidered with pearls and deep red garnets.
It’s the ancestral Abercorn color.
A picture of Louisa wearing the gown came to him full-blown
.
Her beauty took his breath away, and he imagined undressing her. James lifted the gown from the trunk and, tucked beneath it, he saw a book. The moment he picked it up, he knew what it was.
This is Louisa’s diary!
The key was in the lock.
He carried it to the fire and sank down in a comfortable chair. Without hesitation he unlocked it. Here was his chance to learn who had dishonored her. James thirsted for the swine’s name so he could take his revenge.
He opened the journal at the last entry:
Mother told Abercorn I miscarried his child. I am devastated! He is being forced to marry me. His anger is terrifying. Though it is completely justified.
James turned the pages back. A stark entry in December caught his eye:
Aborted tonight!
His gut knotted, and cold fingers squeezed his heart.
James went back a few pages, held his breath, and began to read:
Georgy confided her terrible secret today. I vowed I would tell no one, though if she is four months gone with child, everyone will soon know.
James avidly turned the page and read:
I guessed that the father was Teddy Fox. She said she told him, but he refused to marry her. My heart aches for Georgy. How will she get through Christmas with all the guests who will descend upon Woburn?
He read the next entry:
Georgy says she would rather die than face the scandal. I am terrified that she is contemplating suicide. I’m nearly torn in half over what to do, but I have vowed to keep her secret, and cannot betray my sister.
James could hardly believe what he was reading:
After a long, hard ride across the rutted fields, Georgy flung herself from the saddle hoping to rid herself of the child. She could have killed herself. I put her to bed and sat with her until she slept.
He turned the page and read:
Aborted tonight!
James raised his eyes from the diary and murmured aloud, “How on earth did her mother think it was Lu who miscarried?” He lowered his eyes to the page and read on:
Georgy came to my room in terrible pain. I put her in my bed but she began to bleed. It was a nightmare and went on for hours. Blood was everywhere. Finally it stopped. I stripped off my bedsheets, washed her, and put a fresh nightgown on her.
Mother came in, saw me covered in blood, and assumed I was the one who had miscarried. Georgy’s eyes pleaded with me not to betray her, so I took the blame.
James was astounded. His anger slowly melted away and was replaced by a feeling of euphoria. His heart sang with happiness that Louisa,
his precious Louisa
, had never been with child. He knew he shouldn’t take joy in the fact that Georgy had been shamefully betrayed, but he was over the moon that it wasn’t Louisa.
James closed the diary and sat in wonder.
Lu was so selfless that she took the blame for her sister. She suffered shame in her mother’s eyes, rather than betray Georgy.
A love that deep was both rare and precious.
As the situation fully dawned on him, he wanted to laugh and shout and kick up his heels. Instead, he sat brimming over with elation, savoring the secret he had uncovered. Again he opened the journal and read an earlier entry:
Abercorn is dangerous! He is so devastatingly handsome that I must keep him at arm’s length or I shall be undone.
James suddenly realized that he should not be reading Louisa’s diary. He snapped it closed and turned the key in the lock.
These are Lu’s personal thoughts and I am invading her privacy.
He could summon no regret over the secret he had uncovered, however. The knowledge filled his heart and soul with happiness. He rejoiced that with one flash of insight, everything was about to change between them. The corners of his mouth went up in a wicked smile. The Marquis of Abercorn was suddenly hell-bent on seduction.
He carried her diary back to the trunk. He folded the exquisite crimson gown and tucked the book beneath it, exactly as he had found it. He closed the lid of the trunk and fastened its brass latches. Then he put one of her boxes on top.
Lu must never find out what I did.
 
Louisa’s eyes flew open as the sound of her drapes being flung back awakened her. She closed them quickly as the early morning sun blinded her. “Devil take you!”
“Close,” James said, laughing. “Get out of bed and come with me.” He dragged the covers from her.
“I’m undressed!”
“I noticed.” His glance slid over her silk nightgown and he rolled his eyes in appreciation.
“Can’t this wait?”
“Absolutely not. Hurry, or I will have to pick you up and carry you.”
The light in his eyes told her he would execute his threat. “I’ll need my bed gown.”
“Oh, if you must.” He plucked a white velvet robe from the foot of her bed and held it while she slipped her bare arms into the sleeves. Then he took her hand and unceremoniously pulled her out of bed.
She barely had time to slide her feet into her slippers as he dragged her toward the door. To keep up with his long strides, Lu had to run. They passed gaping servants as they descended the main staircase, but he was in such a hurry, she didn’t have time to blush.
They sped through the great hall, then the rotunda and entrance hall, and dashed through the front door of Barons Court. When they reached the portico, James thrust one powerful arm beneath her knees and swung her up into his arms.
“Custom dictates that a bride must be carried over the threshold by her groom. Never let it be said that I neglected
any
of the hymeneal customs, no matter how you intend to deny me, Lady Lu.”
His words were deliberately insinuating, and as he slowly carried her over the threshold into the sunlit rotunda, she had plenty of time to blush. She struggled to be put down, but she was no match for the whipcord muscles of his arms. She could have fought him, but a thrashing resistance would have been most undignified before the smiling servants.
As he carried her through the great hall, he put his lips to her ear and whispered, “You have an audience. I wager you can play your part to perfection if you put your mind to it.”
Lu realized it was a game two could play. She raised her voice and challenged, “I wager you won’t make it to the top of the staircase!”
He, too, played to their audience. “I concede it will be a challenge after last night’s exertions.”
Her eyes blazed green. “You Irish devil! How could you?”
James carried her into the master bedchamber and dropped her onto the bed. “I should be thrashed.” He handed her a pillow. “Have at me!”
She snatched it from his hand, stood on the bed, and buffeted him about the head.
James picked up another pillow and whacked her across the bottom. Soon they were rolling about the bed, laughing and fighting like children. The covers went one way and they went the other. On hands and knees she scrambled away from him, so she wouldn’t end up on the floor. He grabbed her hips, rolled her onto her back, and came over her in the dominant position.

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