Читать книгу Too Hot For A Rake - Pearl Wolf - Страница 11

Later That Morning…

The duke sat at the head of the table in the breakfast room, his eyes bloodshot from too little sleep. He held the morning paper at arm’s length and pretended to read, instead steeling himself for the inevitable confrontation with Christopher Darlington, who was, at the moment, cooling his heels in the library. Things never seemed to work the way they ought with his children. Pity. Well, he had wanted a large family, hadn’t he? Now he wondered what had ever made him entertain such a foolish notion. He reached for his coffee just as his butler appeared in the doorway.

“What is it, Dunston?”

The Heatham butler, a tall, thin gentleman in the employ of the family as far back in his own childhood as the duke could recall, said, “Mr. Darlington wishes to know if you are ready to receive him, your grace. He is most impatient.”

“Bloody cheek,” muttered the duke. He exchanged a look of exasperation with his butler. He put the newspaper down and drummed his fingers on the table. “Plague the man. I won’t have him interrupt my breakfast. Tell him to wait. And send for Lady Helena. I want her here with me when I see him.”

“Very good, your grace.” Dunston attempted to bow out, but Darlington swept past him, ignoring the butler’s disapproving hauteur. The duke’s unwanted guest was groomed to meticulous perfection, yet the countenance he leveled at the duke was one of determination.

“Forgive the interruption, your grace. I am long overdue at the home office, you see. My business with you won’t take long.”

To convey displeasure for having entered without his permission, the duke cast him a withering glance. “This is a most unwelcome intrusion, Darlington. You might at least have allowed me to finish my breakfast.” Hoping to annoy his guest, the duke added, “Summon Lady Helena, Dunston.”

He was right, for Darlington said hastily, “No need, your grace. Your daughter knows why I have come.”

“You’re here far too early, Darlington. I never grant an audience before noon.” The duke proceeded to sip his coffee, his eyes trained on his newspaper.

“Allow me to beg pardon again for interrupting your breakfast, your grace, but I am persuaded you will agree that it was necessary once you hear me out.”

The duke sighed. “Well? What is it you wish to say?”

“Lady Helena wishes to cry off. We are no longer betrothed.”

The duke made as if he knew nothing. “Is this some silly quarrel between you two? I’ll ask her the same question, you know.”

“By no means, your grace. We’ve already settled this between us. I have accepted her decision,” Darlington said as if he were negotiating a treaty. “Now we must both get on with our lives.”

Dunston reappeared and said, “Begging your pardon, your grace, but Lady Helena is not in her chamber.”

“Find her, then. At once.”

At this, the duchess swept past the butler.

“Good morning, ma’am,” said the duke cheerfully.

She glanced at Darlington in puzzlement, ignoring his presence for the moment while she addressed her husband. “What is the meaning of all the shouting and banging of doors upstairs, your grace? You know it puts me out of humor to be woken thus.” That said, she turned to greet their guest. “Welcome home, Christopher. Does Helena know you’ve come home?” She honored him with a smile. “Are you ready to set a date for the wedding? Helena will be so pleased.”

“It appears our daughter is nowhere to be found,” said the duke drily.

“Oh no. I’m sure that cannot be. She must be taking more time to look her best for you, dear boy. If you haven’t eaten, do join us for breakfast. Believe me, your wedding will be the event of the Season. What day have you in mind?” The duchess kept to herself her determination to agree to a date only if it was not in conflict with her daughter Georgiana’s debut ball in June, an event the duchess had been planning for months.

A footman entered with fresh coffee, the butler right behind him.

“Have you located my daughter?”

“No, your grace.”

“Oh well,” said the duchess. “No doubt she will appear soon. Now, young man, you must allow me to take care of everything. I shall see to the announcement of the wedding day in the papers. And I beg one more favor of you. Please do not deny me the privilege of arranging all the details of your wedding breakfast to our dear daughter.”

Darlington fixed her with a grim stare. “Do not trouble yourself, your grace. Your daughter has cried off. She no longer wishes to marry me.”

The duchess stared at him in disbelief. “Cried off? But how can that be? Helena has wanted to marry you since she was in the schoolroom. Why on earth would she cry off now?”

“Perhaps it is you who wishes to cry off, Darlington,” said the duke, his shrewd eyes fixed on his unwelcome guest. Time froze except for the ticking of the clock on the mantel.

Darlington was the first to break the silence. “Lady Helena informed me of this last evening. She leaves me no choice but to accept her decision. If you’ll excuse me, I’m obliged to take my leave. Good day.” He bowed first to the duchess and then to the duke.

Her grace cast a worried glance at her husband. “Please, Christopher. Don’t go without seeing our daughter. Helena sometimes takes a morning stroll before breakfast. I’ll just have a look in the garden.” She crossed to the French doors and threw them open.

“No!” cried the duke when he spied their pup, but it was too late. The Great Dane leapt into the room, skidded across the floor and caught the end of the table linen, causing several dishes to tumble to the floor.

“Prince!” the duchess screeched.

Dunston lunged for Prince but the dog bounded toward Darlington, rose on his hind legs, planted his muddy paws on Darlington’s immaculate coat and licked his face.

“Get this beast off me,” Darlington muttered through clenched teeth.

“He’s just a pup, lad. You needn’t be afraid,” said the duke, stifling the urge to grin. He glanced at the hall door, where several staff members had gathered, drawn by the unaccustomed noise.

“Don’t just stand there gawking, you lot. Somebody do something with the mutt, for heaven’s sake!”

At their master’s command, two under maids rushed into the room and began to clean up the mess of broken dishes on the floor while several footmen moved cautiously toward the Great Dane. One of them managed to pull Prince away from Darlington, but not before the pup tore the sleeve of his coat from its mooring.

“How dreadful. Let Dunston take your coat, Christopher. He’ll have it repaired in no time,” said the duchess, offering her apology. “We’ve only had Prince a few months. For the children, you see. I assure you, the dog meant no harm. He’s just a puppy.”

Darlington fought Dunston for possession of his coat with one hand while he mopped his face dry with the other. “Leave off,” he growled, thrusting the butler’s hands away from his lapels. “My man will see to it.”

With unaccustomed restraint, the duke managed to suppress his urge to laugh. “Just the pup’s way of being friendly, you know.”

At this, Darlington lost control of his temper. He said acidly, “Apparently, your grace, you appear to have difficulty teaching proper manners to your dog as well as to your daughter!”

Before the duke could put Darlington in his place for daring to hurl such an insult, the entrance of three more of the duke’s children enlivened the breakfast room. Georgiana, a debutante of seventeen years, was the acknowledged beauty of the family. Fifteen-year-old Mary was the shyest, spending as much time as she could playing the pianoforte.

Jane, at ten the youngest Fairchild, loved to eat and to pry. These habits irritated everyone in the household from the lowliest servant to her autocratic father. “Don’t you dare hurt my Prince,” she said to the two footmen struggling to control the frisky pup. She grabbed two biscuits from the table. “Here, Prince,” she crooned in a singsong voice. “Look what your Jane has for you, love.” The obedient pup drooled, his eyes on the treats and bounded out of the room after her.

“I’ll take my leave now,” muttered Darlington and withdrew, trying to maintain a shred of dignity in spite of his torn coat.

“What’s happened to cause Chris to be in such a pelter?” asked Georgiana.

The duchess put a finger to her lips to silence her when it became clear to her that the duke was on the verge of exploding, for the duke had reached the limit of his patience. Assaulted by the din of servants disturbing his ordered routine—his grace hadn’t even had time to finish his morning paper, for heaven’s sake. “Clear the room, Dunston! Georgie! Mary! Find some useful occupation at once.”

Alert to the menace in his grace’s growl, Dunston shooed the servants out of the breakfast room, for they had dawdled in the hope of hearing more of the family gossip.

The butler followed discreetly in their wake, just as Sebastian Brooks strode into the breakfast room, his eyes wide as he took in the chaotic scene.

“What a mess! Was it the pup?” he asked, amused. “Morning, sir. How are you, ma’am?” He bent to kiss his mother-in-law’s cheek.

The exasperated duke let out a sigh. “Morning, Sebastian. Prince made untidy love to Darlington when he came to tell us Helena had cried off their betrothal.”

“I can’t believe Helena has cried off. After all these years,” said the duchess, shaking her head in sadness.

“You’re right not to believe it, love. It’s the other way around, I’m afraid.”

“What can you mean? How is this? Where is my daughter?”

“Helena’s safe at home with my wife, ma’am. She arrived there early this morning.”

The duchess began to rise. “I must go to Helena at once, then.”

“Stay a moment, my dear,” said the duke. “Is Helena distraught?” He directed the question to his son-in-law.

“Olivia finally persuaded her to rest, but it wasn’t easy. She cried for hours.”

The duchess looked startled. “What is more important than my daughter’s unhappiness? She needs her mother.”

“In due time, ma’am. We must first put our heads together and determine what’s to be done. The gossips in London will make Helena’s life a misery when the news gets out,” said the duke.

The duchess looked thoughtful. “Oh dear, the ton. I hadn’t thought of that. You’re right, of course. Of all times for this to happen! Just before Georgie’s ball. What can we do?”

Sebastian raised a hand. “If I may speak?”

“Of course, son.”

“Olivia and I think you ought to consider sending Helena out of London until the scandal plays itself out.”

“I agree,” said the duke, for that thought had also occurred to him. “But where? Can’t be Bodmin, for we’ve lent the castle to relatives of my neighbor, old Tremayne, for the month. His grandson is to be married in the Heligan Gardens and he hasn’t enough room to house all his guests.”

“What about Heatham House in Brighton?” asked the duchess.

“Brighton is out of the question, my dear. There are many members of the ton living there year-round who would be only too happy to keep the London gossip alive.” He turned to his son-in-law. “We’ll all return to your home with you, Sebastian. We can’t discuss this without Helena. She should have a say in this matter. Besides, his grandparents want to see their grandson.”

Sebastian grinned. “He’ll be delighted, I’m sure. Go on ahead without me, sir. I have an appointment at the home office. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

“What shall I do with my life now, Livy?” asked Helena in a tragic voice for the fourth or possibly the fifth time. Her eyes were rimmed with red. “Don’t ask me the how and the why of it. Suffice it to say I tried to be bold like you, but I failed miserably.” She touched the back of her hand to her forehead. “My life is over.”

“Nonsense, you goose. What you must do is leave London until the scandal dies down,” said her sister. “And while you are gone, we Fairchilds will do everything in our power to right the wrongs Chris has so unwisely saddled you with when he cried off.”

Helena gave her sister’s words some serious thought. “You’re right, Livy. I won’t be able to bear facing up to the gossipmongers. Even the daughter of a duke can’t escape their scorn when she doesn’t behave properly. What must I do?”

“The question is not what you must do, but where you must go. Any thoughts as to where you might like to hibernate for a spell? Pick a country, if you like.”

“Oh, I don’t care. Just as long as it’s far enough away so I never have to see Darlington’s face again.” Helena dabbed at her eyes.

“That’s right, love. Dry your tears. But…”

“But what?”

“You’re really going to have to develop a stiffer spine, dear. You’ve worn your heart on your sleeve for so long, it’s almost become a part of you. It won’t do if you’re ever going to convince people it was you who cried off and not that cad.” Olivia paused. “He never gave you any reason, you say? Extraordinary.”

“No. He gave no reason,” she lied, and changed the subject. “Develop a stiffer spine, you say? How can I? I’m not like you, Livy. Not in the least.” She turned her face to the wall, too ashamed of her brazen act last night to confess the truth. “Why would I lie,” she lied, piling one falsehood upon another. “Chris said I wasn’t a proper wife for an aspiring diplomat.”

Olivia raised her head at the sound of approaching horses. “A carriage is coming. Must be our parents. I’ve sent Sebastian to fetch them.”

“Oh no. How could you, Livy? Must I see them? They’re the last people on earth I want to face just now.”

“Yes, of course you must, you ninny. They’re not your enemies. They’re on your side in this business. Besides, you’ll need their help. Come. Dry your tears and we’ll go down to greet them.”

Olivia had to grip Helena’s hand and drag her down the stairs.

“Where’s my grandson?” the duke demanded.

“I’ll send for him, Father, but you must play with him in the morning room where my busy little terror can’t destroy anything. We’ve removed all breakable objects within his reach there.” She took her father’s arm and led the way into a sunlit room overlooking the garden.

As soon as the baby appeared with his nurse, the duke shed his waistcoat, neck cloth and silk vest. He sat on a blanket on the floor with his grandson, who giggled and gurgled while the otherwise dignified duke of the realm entertained his namesake by making a fool of himself.

“I wouldn’t have had this happen to you for the world,” said the duchess, clasping Helena’s hand in sympathy. “But if it were meant to be, my darling, better by far for it to end before you wed Darlington.”

“I think Helena would be better off if she left London for a while, Mother. Do you agree?”

“Yes, I do. If she doesn’t, the ton will make her life a misery. Have you given any thought to where you might like to go, love?”

Helena wished she were anywhere but in this roomful of loving relatives, for their pity served only to make her spirits sink lower. Appealing visions of a dungeon without a door or a storm-tossed shack sinking into quicksand invaded her thoughts.

She tried to hide her resentment at their well-meaning concern. “India? America? A penal colony in Australia, perhaps? I don’t really care just as long as it’s as far away from London as possible.”

“Don’t talk such nonsense, Helena. Land’s End is far enough,” said Olivia, annoyed.

“Or the Isle of Scilly,” said Sebastian as he entered the morning room. He stopped to chuck his son Tony under his pudgy chin. “Unfortunately, both places may well prove to be a dead bore.”

“Oh, what difference does it make? My life is over anyway,” whined Helena between sniffs.

“Nonsense, my girl,” put in her father. “You’re only twenty. Eligible suitors will be hounding me for your hand once the news is out.”

“I’ll never marry,” said Helena, her voice tinged with tragedy.

The duchess ignored this foolish remark, for her mind had been occupied with the more practical task of finding a solution. “You know, Livy, your mention of Land’s End has given me an idea. My godmother lives there.”

Helena heaved an exasperated sigh. “I know you’re trying to help, Mother, but what has that to do with…with anything?”

Her mother went on as if Helena hadn’t spoken. “I last saw her when I visited some twenty years ago with my dear mother, rest her soul, but we still exchange Christmas greetings. She lives alone in a castle overlooking the sea. She would no doubt welcome a visit from you.”

“You can’t be sure she’d have me, Mother. What of the marquis? He might well object.”

“Her only son died last year, but her grandson has just returned from his travels to assume his father’s duties,” put in Sebastian.

“How do you know, darling?”

Sebastian looked at his wife and shook his head slightly as a warning to her to hold her tongue. “I made his acquaintance just this morning. The home secretary introduced us.”

“You won’t be in the way even if the new marquis is in residence, dear. It’s a very large castle. Besides, his grandmother will act as your chaperone,” persisted the duchess.

“As you wish, Mother.” Helena showed little interest in the rest of the conversation.

The duchess pressed on. “You’ll like it there, dearest. It’s near Sennen Cove, a charming little village where the English Channel meets St. George’s Channel.”

Upon entering the drawing room, the duke heard this remark. “That area has a bad reputation. It’s known as a hotbed of smuggling activities.”

“Not anymore, sir. There may be an occasional shipwreck in bad weather, but by and large, smuggling appears to have died out,” said Sebastian.

The duke appeared to be satisfied with this answer.

“If you crave anonymity, you couldn’t find a more suitable place to hide. No Londoner would be caught dead in such an out-of-the-way place, especially during the Season. But the decision is entirely yours,” said the duke.

“It doesn’t matter to me where you send me, Father. One place is as good as another.”

The duchess hastened to add, “I’ll write to the marchioness at once.”

“Good idea, Mother.” Olivia rose to ring for the baby’s nurse. “You’ll have to give the lord of this manor to me, Father. It’s time for Tony to feed and then to nap, two of his favorite pastimes. And while he does, we can dine in peace.”

Clinging to his grandfather, little Tony babbled in a language only he understood. “You’re welcome to the scamp, Livy. He’s had the audacity to wet my shirt.” But the duke didn’t seem to mind in the least, for he hugged the child and covered his face with kisses.

Dinner was a somber affair, due to Helena’s lingering melancholy. Afterward, the women withdrew so that the duke and his son-in-law might enjoy their brandy.

“What do you think of Land’s End, Sebastian? Is it a good idea to send Helena so far from her family?”

“Assuming the dowager marchioness agrees to it, I believe it to be an ideal solution.”

“I knew old Waverley,” the duke said. “A dour man. He held a seat in Parliament, but rarely made any speeches. He had a terrible row with his only son and the young fool ran away at an early age, I recall. Gossip had it that the lad led a wild life abroad.”

“Wild lads grow up and often mend their ways, sir.”

The duke chuckled. “I was a bit wild as a young whelp, too. Can’t fault a young ’un for that, can we? It’s how he behaves now that counts.”

“I met the marquis this morning, sir,” Sebastian reminded his father-in-law.

“What did you think of him?”

“I liked him. He was reluctant to return to England, you know, but when he learned his grandmother was still alive, he was quick to agree. He’s ready to assume his responsibilities, he told me. ‘I’m determined to bury the past and start again. I have only myself to blame for the way I have lived since I left England, but now I crave a better life. One that will restore my reputation and make my grandmother proud of me,’ he said. His sincerity impressed me, sir.”

The duke sipped his brandy. “Let us hope he really has outgrown his wild ways then.”

My Lord did not take the news of Waverley’s return from exile well. After all these years! No matter. Harry Trasker will be as disappointed as I am. So much the better, for his mother’s all too eager for her son to become marquis. It may well work to my advantage. He wrote a brief note and rang for his secretary.

“Sir?”

“See to it that this reaches Smith and Isley today.”

The dowager marchioness readily extended the invitation to Helena to visit and stay as long as she liked. In spite of this warm invitation, Helena drifted through her final week in London as though in a fog as thick as the one that habitually blanketed the city. She answered questions put to her with either a brief nod or a single word. Her abigail Amy saw to the packing of her clothing, but no amount of cajoling would engage her interest in the process of getting ready to embark on her journey.

“I’ve arranged for an escort to accompany you, Helena,” said her brother-in-law at dinner the night before her departure.

Helena acknowledged this with an indifferent nod.

“Sebastian went through a great deal of trouble for you, Helena,” said the duke in exasperation. “You might at least show some gratitude.”

“Thank you, Sebastian,” said Helena, her voice dull.

“You’ll come back for my debut ball, won’t you?” pleaded Georgiana, in a vain attempt to lighten the dark mood. “Please say you will, Helena. I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t.”

“I suppose I must, if it would please you, Georgie.”

The duchess put an end to the funereal atmosphere when she rose and said, “Come, girls. We’ll leave the gentlemen to their brandy. Don’t be too long, you two.”

“I’m bloody well damned if I know what to do for that ungrateful child,” exploded the duke after the women took their leave.

Sebastian turned to the footman serving brandy. “Leave us.” He waited until they were alone before continuing. “It’s best you say nothing to upset her, sir. She’s in mourning for her lost love as it were, but that will pass. She needs time, but she’ll come about.”

“The silly chit! I never liked Darlington for her, you know. Thought he wasn’t good enough for her. Turns out I was right. I only agreed to the match because she begged me for it. Women! Just wait till you have daughters of your own, Sebastian. When they grow up they’re bound to become a sore trial.”

Sebastian buried his grin in his brandy snifter. His wife Olivia was the duke’s eldest daughter. If his future daughters were anything like his beautiful, spirited wife, then he’d never find the time to be bored, for they would certainly enrich his already lively life.

“Helena will bounce back, sir. Mark my word. You are doing the right thing by sending her away for a time. She shouldn’t be subjected to the haughty stares and the cruel remarks of the London journals and the scandalmongers.”

“I certainly hope it’s the right thing. At any rate, she’ll be back in time for Georgiana’s ball.”

“Time enough for her to face the world with dignity once again. By then, the gossip will have shifted to a different scandal.”

“I suppose you’re right.” The duke hesitated.

“Something else on your mind, sir?”

“I’m concerned about Waverley’s reputation. Am I putting my daughter in another kind of danger?”

“I can understand your worry, but the marquis assures me he has turned over a new leaf. He’s pledged his word to me, sir. He’ll see no harm comes to her. Word of a gentleman.”

The duke drained his glass. “Word of a gentleman, eh? That’s good enough for me. Shall we join the ladies?”