The Rusticated Duchess (40 page)

In the far corner, Gloria’s Uncle Colby sat with Brody Jenson, instructing him on chess strategies. Lennox had watched them critically for a few minutes, but the elderly Duke of Lennox was approaching Clare. “Does she know? About my son’s relationship to your late wife?”

Clare considered. His deepest instincts said that this man should be permitted as little influence as possible over Gloria’s son, as he’d ultimately been the one to facilitate Gloria’s marriage to March. His political instincts recognised that the child was Lennox’s heir, and that the duke would naturally have his best interests in heart. “Sarah had no relationship with March.”

“My son’s fascination with your late wife, then,” Lennox corrected dryly.

“No,” Clare returned shortly. His eyes settled on Gloria again, and Clare wished suddenly that all these people who demanded so much of Gloria’s attention would disappear and leave him alone with his wife. Instead, he said, “We should discuss the settlements. They’ll need to be in place as soon as possible to demonstrate to the Court that Gloria made an advantageous and responsible marriage.”

“In the morning,” Lennox agreed.

“She’ll eventually ask you about her father, you know. I’ll be writing to a long-time friend who happens to look like Jenson’s older twin and has the last name to prove it, but here’s what I think happened. I think your Twicken went out and seduced Lady Winchester, maybe even in your own house. My father told me that he stayed at Lennox House frequently, for months on end. But Gloria is only two years older than Genevieve. So either something happened to your Johna and Twicken, or you were both with her when Genevieve came along.”

Lennox was absolutely stiff with displeasure. “I would suggest,
youngling
, that you refrain from such speculation.”

“Shall I put my cards on the table, Your Grace?” Clare asked, no emotion showing as Arwyn finally escaped the older lady and approached Jenson and Colby Bentley in the corner. “Gloria already knows who sired her. She needed the peace of mind, and a father of whom she could be proud. Do not take that pride away from her, or her heartbreak will be on your head. Then, you and I will have some irreconcilable differences about the future. But I want to know, are there any more children I should know about?”

“Just the two of them,” Lennox grated out the words. “Now, I believe it’s time for me to retire,” Lennox said stiffly, gesturing at Gloria, who responded to the imperious summons with such a glowing smile that the other guests all seemed to recognise the time as well, saying goodnights to each other and trailing after Gloria.

Johna clung to Gloria’s arm, and Clare overheard the older woman say, “You will walk up with me, Gloria dear?”

Clare had no real choice but to leave her to their manipulations, and watch. Mrs Flannery had chosen rooms for the visitors in the north tower, with its dramatic views of the river and Scotland, while the family resided in the central wing that connected the three towers of the keep. Tightening his jaw, he offered his arm to Lady Arlington, surprised when the old woman took it.

“I’ll say just one thing to you, young man,” she announced. “I know well enough I’m old enough to be your mother, and Johna certainly won’t give you any help, so you listen to me.”

Clare matched his steps to hers and listened.

“That girl will make a man a fine, devoted wife if she’s treasured properly. You do that, and she’ll find out what a good man you are, too.”

Clare nodded in agreement, because he had every intention of doing so. Fortunately, Lady Arlington was housed on the first floor above the armoury, so he was able to bid her goodnight and slip into the shadows of the stairs. Above Lady Arlington’s rooms, Lennox, Johna and Colby had rooms, with Fiona at the very top of the tower.

Gloria was still in the hallway but Lennox was speaking. “You and Eynon can leave with us. Eynon Castle will have plenty of room for you and the boy to grow. There’s no reason for you to return to London, ever, especially if you don’t stay here.”

Clare heard Gloria murmur something, but the words were indecipherable. Even so, his mind and body were already freezing with betrayal and indignation. It was true that she wasn’t pregnant. It was true that the threat posed by Winchester was essentially vacant. It was true that Gloria had never professed undying love. But
leaving?

“Let me know,” Lennox concluded. Johna’s voice, low and melodic, filled the void and Clare slid down the stairs, not wanting Gloria to realise he’d been spying on her.

She was unusually pensive when she came down the bottom of the stairs, though she accepted his hand and leaned against him as they walked hip to hip through the lower rooms to the main stairs.

Will she leave me?

She didn’t sleep with him. Instead, Gloria stretched her silk-clad frame out against him and kissed him lovingly, the fatigue and exhaustion of the day evident in her glassy eyes and the colour darkening the pale skin beneath her eyes. He knew her courses had come—the tea she’d been drinking when he had checked on her before dinner had made that part of her restraint obvious. Clare wanted to lift her in his arms and tuck her into bed beside him and soothe her, but still in shock he remained silent, so she slid away from him and murmured that she would see him in the morning.

As always, when she slept away from him, he dreamt of Glory. That night he dreamt of her lying on his blanket by the river, where he went so often to fish. The leaves and branches shaded her, but she was gloriously bare and he knelt beside her. Her smile blinded him as his hands traced her body. “Angel,” he whispered, and her smile was enough to lift him over her as her knees drew up and clung to his hips.

He woke thrusting his cock into the mattress beneath him, and in a temper, he roared out his outrage into a pillow.

He had no choice, though, except to swallow his inner anguish, dress and say his goodbyes to Arwyn.

The servants were throwing bags in the boot, and Arwyn was waiting with Gloria on the steps when Clare joined them. She was wrapped in the now-detested velvet pelisse, whose lining had been ripped out to bandage Clare and Winchester.

He was taking her to Edinburgh as soon as her family cleared out. If she would just stay with him, he’d take her the very same day.

Clare’s body surged at her presence, absorbing the feminine fragrance and soft skin that slid so naturally into the space at his right.

Clare judged it commendable that he didn’t react when her fingers slid over the sleeve of his jacket into the expected place on his forearm. He manfully resisted the urge to clamp her hand in place, refusing to look down at her as well.

Clare had lived in the castle for a dozen years alone or with only his son and father. The idea of being there
alone
should not have made the bile rise in his throat.

Arwyn would only be gone a few weeks, and would return for the long summer recess. Arwyn would be home soon.

Clare’s mind stood at a standstill and clung to the thought.

“Father, Lady Clare was just asking what our favourite summertime activities were,” Arwyn greeted him with a tired smile. “I mentioned fishing and she just laughed.”

“My name is Gloria,” his wife said, reaching out with her free hand to clasp Arwyn on the shoulder. “And we are family now, at least, so addressing me by an honorific is a bit much, no?”

Arwyn said something in response but Clare just stood there, stock still, in a daze, confused. Why would she invite familiarity, if she was leaving?

Gloria’s laugh was lighthearted, joyous. Clare tried to smile, but his mouth was dry, so his lips just stretched flat, as if he were grimacing, when Arwyn turned to him.

The boy looked up at him expectantly, and beside him, he felt Gloria look up at him, too. He blinked, swallowed hard, cleared his throat. “Son,” he choked out. Recognising the movement as choppy and rough, he clasped the young man on his shoulder.

Clare couldn’t have said anything else if he’d tried.

“I’ve got this mastered, you know,” Arwyn said. “No need to worry about taking me away from my exams. I needed to be here for your wedding. And I will do fine on the exams.”

Clare just stared at him, until even Gloria noted the awkwardness and leapt into the breach. “You’ll do wonderfully, and we’ll see you back here at the end of the month, of course.”

As if in the distance, Clare heard Arwyn’s affirmative.
We’ll see you back here?

Was she staying?

In the back of his mind, Clare’s instinctual determination took hold. He would find out, he would ask her, he would—

“I’ll go inside now, Jeremy,” Gloria said. “I heard Eynon crying when I was on my way down. I want to spend some time with him before breakfast if he’s still awake.”

Clare nodded, but Gloria was already turning away, and Arwyn was climbing into the carriage.

The boy was fifteen, not ten. Clare didn’t need to watch until he was out of sight. Still, he vacillated, then looked behind him. Gloria was already climbing the main stairs, so he followed her inside and watched her glide upwards, the shape of her rump concealed by the cambric black gown.

Lennox was at the breakfast table. Clare restrained his baser self from knocking the self-centred, manipulative man across the room and settled for glaring at him instead from behind the coffee pot.

Eventually the duke himself spoke. “I suppose you’ll want Lauderdale to be present when we discuss the settlements.”

The uninflected words irritated Clare. Like it or not, the man was a part of his life now. Even if he wasn’t Eynon’s guardian, he was her mother’s long-time partner. His hands shook as he sat down his cup.

“That won’t be necessary until we sign the settlements. I manage my father’s affairs as well as my own. He ceded his authority over such matters over seventeen years ago.”

Silence met his words for a long moment. “I see.”

Clare stood up, looked at Lennox directly and stepped to the side. “I thought you would. I’ll be in my study when you’re ready.”

He wasn’t surprised to see Lennox twenty minutes later.

“It’s still early, the ladies have not come down,” Lennox said warily, observing that Clare had chosen not to stand to greet him.

“Do we need them?” Clare questioned, having waited pointedly until Lennox sat to answer.

“I was wrong,” Lennox admitted, surprising him. “It was, I think, one of the few mistakes I’ve ever made, thinking I could buy you off, that you would let Sarah go. Perhaps I assumed you were more like your grandfather than you are.” He tilted his head and looked at Clare. “Or perhaps you are as rigid as that old cantankerous man, only your priorities are different. Even then March was rarely sober, but he was a playboy, not a sot. She was the first proper miss my son had ever shown an interest in pursuing.” He cleared his throat. “I knew my offer would make Lauderdale’s financial position solid. I thought, if you’d step back, then the girl would see the advantages of the offer—of March’s suit—as her parents had.”

Clare reminded his fist that Lennox had already admitted to being wrong. He forced his brain to focus.

“But I was wrong to interfere. I knew she only had eyes for you.”

Clare had tried to restrain himself. He had. “So this time around, you let your son organise his own affairs, and he came home betrothed to your lover’s daughter? And you did nothing to prevent it.”

Lennox sighed, turned his head for a moment and stared at the rows of glass-enclosed bookshelves. “I didn’t know, until the day it came out in the
Gazette.
Neither did her mother, nor Gloria. And there we were. There she was. March had been as underhanded and canny as I’d ever been. Johna and I had used the excuse, of course, to pardon speaking and excuse private conversation together, but it was Winchester who made it real. I never would have agreed to such a thing. But then, to break it? Gloria was insistent that we not let on she was not Winchester’s child, and I could see no other way to break the engagement other than humiliating her that way.” His agonised gaze turned to Clare. “I did everything I could to protect her.”

Clare felt his lip curl with derision. “No, you didn’t. You allowed him to terrorise her night after night, when she most needed protection, to meet your own damned ends. You have another son, Lennox, but your goddamned selfishness got in the way. You wanted March’s son to inherit.”

Lennox didn’t answer. He stared stonily at Clare, who stared back, unmoved.

Finally the duke grimaced and sank back in his chair. “I assume you’ll want her trust,” he said.

Clare leant forwards over the desk, his jaw hard and his eyes cold. “Here’s what will happen. Gloria receives full control of her trust, interest and capital. Now—not when she’s twenty-five or when Eynon is an adult, and not subject to my authorisation. Now. Eynon will be raised here at Norham Castle, but you are welcome to look in on him at anytime. When he’s older, he may travel to Eynon Castle for extended visits with his tutor or groom or other chaperone from my household. It goes without saying that his education will be essential to the future of your house. And if you go and turn that boy into a duke before he’s of age, I will become his guardian.”

Lennox stiffened. “My son Alden arrives from Amsterdam any day,” he said. “Alden is fully capable of running the duchy’s affairs if I pass before Eynon is of age.”

Clare looked at him steadily. “Alden can act on the business affairs of the dukedom. But Eynon stays with Gloria and I until he’s of age. You can write a paltry allowance or the cost of his education, or whatever other financial strings you want into the settlement if you think I’m after his inheritance, but the point is non-negotiable.”

“You know I can walk out of this Castle with that lad right now?” Lennox blustered, offended.

“If you do, it’s likely that Johna will never forgive you, not to mention her daughters,” Clare returned, unmoved by his threat.

Lennox sighed. “You always did know to call my bluff, damn you.” He curled his lip and asked, “What will you bring to the table? You’re more than twenty years her elder—how will she support herself when you have left her?”