The Decadent Duke by Virginia Henley
Hell and damnation! I must avoid the surly devil at all costs. With any luck he won’t come.
"I think we should extend an invitation for the Russells to come to the August races at Goodwood.’’
Goodwood House was the seat of the Duke of Richmond, near Chichester in Sussex. The opulent mansion was filled with priceless treasures and had its own racecourse.
Georgina’s spirits sank. She was sorry she had ever asked Charles who the man was. She assured herself she didn’t have the least interest in the churlish lout. I shall make a point of missing the Goodwood races
this year. "Speaking of the Duke of Bedford, he flirted outrageously with me at Louisa’s wedding. Our brother gave him a set down. It was most amusing.’’
Georgina had managed to change the subject, and she made a determined effort to dismiss Bedford’s brother from her thoughts. That night, however, John Russell haunted her dreams.
Georgina was fishing in the River Spey with her father. She waded out to the deeper water where the salmon were fighting their way upstream. The spring thaw had made the rushing river far more dangerous than usual, and Georgina slipped on a stone and lost her footing. Her head went beneath the swirling torrent, and she found herself out of her depth and in serious trouble.
Suddenly, a powerfully built man with black hair appeared from nowhere. Without hesitation he forged his way into the raging water, and swam to her side. His arms closed around her, and he lifted her high against his powerful chest.
Georgina clung to him, weak with relief, as he carried her from the river. His arms were so strong that she had never felt this safe in her entire life.
"Little girl, it’s a wonder you didn’t drown!’’
She smiled up into his dark eyes. He was angry, but he knew she was a woman grown. Calling her "little girl’’ was a term of endearment. She loved the idea that he had rescued her, and wanted to protect her from danger. She had never experienced such tender concern from a man before, and it was intoxicating.
"Thank you, ’old man,’”she whispered provocatively.
Chapter 4
"How are you feeling, Elizabeth?’’ John Russell crossed to the sitting room window to let some fresh air into the stuffy chamber.
"Please don’t open the window. Drafts are very bad for me. I actually felt tranquil while you were all away this afternoon. I believe the boys are too much for me.’’
John heard the plaintive note in her voice and strived for patience. What sort of a mother cannot bear the presence of her own children? "I hope you’ll be joining us for dinner.’’
"No, I’m not hungry. All I want is peace and quiet. I think I shall go up to bed and have Gertrude bring me a tray.’’
"If you wish.’’ John removed her lap robe and helped her to rise. He felt her stiffen at his touch, and quickly withdrew his hands. She had permitted no intimacy in almost nine years.
John accompanied his wife as she slowly climbed the stairs. Young Johnny, who was standing at the top of the staircase, smiled sweetly at his mother. "It was a great cricket match!’’
"Your mother’s not feeling well.’’
"I’m so sorry, Mama. Would you like me to read to you?’’
"No! I have a vile headache. Leave me be, Johnny.’’
John saw the happy smile leave his young son’s face, and he bit back a cruel retort. "I’ll send Gertrude to you,’’ he said curtly. I should have left her in Devon. Sooner or later I’ll lose control of my temper. If I hold it in much longer, it will erupt like bloody Vesuvius.
The next morning, John suggested that William get out his bat, and the four of them would enjoy a game of cricket. He cut some wood, made makeshift wickets, and then spent the next three hours pitching the ball to them. Not only did it give the boys much-needed exercise and fun in the fresh summer air, it kept them out of the house and away from their mother’s continual disapproval.
When they returned, he sent them upstairs to clean up before lunch. He found Elizabeth on her usual chaise huddled beneath a lap robe. The sitting room shades were drawn to keep out any vestiges of sunshine, and John forced his hands behind his back to stop himself from lifting the blinds and flinging open the windows. "I hope you are feeling better today.’’
"My chest feels tight. I have this constant fear that I won’t be able to breathe. I’m terrified of suffocating.’’
I’d suffocate too if I spent hours in this overheated room. "I’m sorry, my dear. Perhaps if you stepped outside for a few minutes and strolled in the garden it would help you to breathe.’’
"The scent of the flowers always brings on my headache, and what if I was stung by a bee? It happened once when I was a child. They seek me out for some reason I cannot fathom.’’
There’s no point in my asking her to join the boys and me for lunch—she would conjure an excuse to reject my request. "I ran into Charles Lennox and his wife at the cricket match yesterday. He and his family are close by at Marylebone Manor for the summer. He invited us to drop in for a visit. John is around his oldest son’s age.’’
"Charles is married to one of those dreadful Gordon women. Married him for his money, no doubt, and his prospects of becoming the next Duke of Richmond.’’
"But she is a duke’s daughter. Alexander Gordon has vast wealth and lands in Scotland.’’
"And by-blows aplenty.’’ Her mouth tightened with disapproval. "His faithlessness reminds me of your brother, Francis.’’
John clenched his fists. He had a very close bond with his brother because their parents had died when he and Francis were so young. "Francis is unwed, not unfaithful. Shall I accept the invitation?’’
"They have a whole brood of children, probably all unruly. I couldn’t stand it. You know my poor health won’t allow me to socialize. It’s out of the question, John; don’t ask it of me.’’
"Of course not. I understand. I think I’ll take them up on the invitation. The boys would enjoy it. I’ll give Lady Lennox your regrets.’’
"Yes, that would be best.’’ She pressed a languid hand to her head. "You’ll be glad when I’m gone.’’
How often have I heard that plaintive refrain? "We’ll go tomorrow. It will give you some peace and quiet.’’
Georgina was on her way to the stables for a morning ride. Charlotte had offered her favorite filly, Barleybree, since the dread of morning sickness prevented her from joining her sister.
At the familiar clip-clop of hooves, Georgina glanced toward the gates of Marylebone Manor and saw four riders approaching. The sight of an adult male accompanied by three boys mounted on ponies threw her into a panic. "Good God, it’s him!’’
Georgina looked down in dismay at her old divided riding skirt and ran her hand across the sleeve of her shabby tweed jacket. She turned on her heel and fled back to the house.
She ran up the stairs to the pink bedchamber and threw open the mirrored doors of the wardrobe. "I need something that will make me look like an elegant lady of fashion.’’ Her hand hesitated over her dresses. "I need to look older ... I need to look taller. Oh damnation, nothing is suitable!’’
Georgina finally chose a morning gown in a lovely shade of apricot. The sleeves and hemline were embroidered with a Greek key design in a deep shade of amber. Its slim empire line was elegant and sophisticated, rather than frilly and girlish.
She took the hairbrush, swept up her curls to give her height, and anchored them with a pair of tortoise-shell combs. Then she put on a pair of dangling amber earrings. She powdered her nose, darkened her eyelashes with kohl, and added a touch of lip rouge. Makeup was deemed scandalous for a young lady who had not yet made her debut, but Georgina did not even pay lip service to convention. She picked up her small ivory fan and examined her reflection in the mirror.
She nodded to her image. "Lady Georgina, you look at least two years older and two inches taller.’’ Before her confidence deserted her, she left the bedchamber and descended to the main floor.
Chil
"The last time I saw her was at court at one of the queen’s receptions. It seems years ago. Do give her my fondest regards.’’ Charlotte caught sight of Georgina, and her eyes widened. "That was a short ride.’’
Georgina opened her fan. "I changed my mind.’’
"John, let me introduce you to my sister.’’
He turned toward her and his dark, compelling glance swept over her from head to toe. His brows drew together as if he were puzzled. "Have we met before, my lady?’’
Georgina wafted her fan. "Not formally, my lord.’’
Charlotte made the introduction. "May I present my sister, Lady Georgina? As you must have guessed, this is John Russell, Lord Tavistock.’’
"Please forgive me for staring. You look familiar—I’m sure I’ve seen you before,’’ he said.
"You have a very short memory, Lord Tavistock. It was only a few days ago that you gave me a browbeating.’’
"Forgive me, my lady, I am at a loss—’’
"I shall neither forgive nor forget ... old man.’’
Georgina had the satisfaction of watching his face as incredibly he made the connection between her and the girl he had berated at the stream.
"I humbly apologize,’’ he said smoothly.
"Liar! Humble isn’t in your repertoire.’’
Charlotte felt the hairs rise on the nape of her neck. The undercurrent between Russell and Georgina was palpable.
Charles ended the awkward moment of silence that descended. "My duties as a host are remiss. Come into the sitting room, John. I have some freshly brewed ale I’d like you to try.’’
"If you will excuse me,’’ Georgina said coolly, "I prefer to join the children and reacquaint myself with your sons.’’
John Russell’s jaw clenched, and he gave her a curt nod.
With satisfaction, she noticed the glint of anger in his eyes. With a shiver, Georgina wondered what it would take to provoke him enough to unleash that controlled fury that lurked beneath his polished surface.
After Georgina left, Charlotte led the way into the sun-drenched sitting room, and as her husband poured ale, she gave John Russell a quizzical glance.
He smiled ruefully. "I met your sister the other day. She and my sons were in the middle of the Tybourne stream, fishing.’’
"Ah, that explains everything! You are the surly sod who called her little girl and told her to go home.’’
John joined in her laughter. "And she told me, in no uncertain terms, to go to the devil!’’
"She took high offense at your words. She has been teased all her life for being the runt of the litter, and is rather sensitive about her lack of height. You must forgive her, John. She is very young.’’
"I’m afraid your sister won’t soon forgive me.’’
"It’s really not like Georgy to get up on her high horse. She’s ready for mischievous fun and games at the drop of a hat.’’
When the men had finished their ale, Charles got to his feet. "I’ll show you that horse we spoke of. The young mare would make an excellent mount for Francis if, as you say, he considers himself too old for a pony.’’
"He’ll be thirteen by the time school term starts again. He is convinced ponies are for children.’’
"And rightly so,’’ Charles agreed. "At thirteen you likely thought yourself a man. I know I did.’’
"True. At that age I was convinced I was ready for the army.’’
Georgina had set up a croquet game on the lawn and had divided the players into three teams. Francis and William Russell were pitted against Johnny Russell and Charlie Lennox, while she partnered young Mary.
Though Johnny confessed he had never played before, he was delighted that he and Charlie were winning.
"I think I prefer cricket,’’ William declared.
"That’s because you’re losing,’’ Georgina teased.
"Boys are sore losers.’’ Mary rubbed salt into their wounds.
"So are girls. Everyone likes to win,’’ Georgina said. "Just as in cricket, the secret is to keep your eye on the ball. You and Francis are swinging your mallets too hard.’’
"Don’t give them tips, Georgy, or John and I might lose,’’ Charlie protested.
It was too late for the older boys to catch up, and John and Charlie claimed victory. Francis spotted his father heading to the stables with Lord Lennox, and asked Georgina to excuse him from the game.
She agreed, and watched Francis and William take off in the direction of the stables. "I think we have lots of time for another game before lunch,’’ she told the younger boys. She had so enjoyed watching Johnny’s delight in winning that she decided she wanted him to win again. "I have an idea. Why don’t I ask the cook to prepare you a picnic lunch that you can eat out here on the lawn?’’
"Hooray!’’ Charlie cheered. He swung his mallet and hit his own foot. "Damnation!’’
John looked stricken, but when he saw that Georgina laughed at the curse word, the corners of his mouth turned up.
When the game was over, Georgina retrieved her fan from the garden seat. "Don’t pout, Mary. The young gentlemen beat us fair and square.’’ She headed toward the kitchen entrance and Mary followed. Georgina found Charlotte speaking with the cook. "I thought it might be a good idea if the young people could have a picnic on the lawn. The Russell boys might be equally uncomfortable eating in the nursery or joining the adults in the dining room.’’
"That’s an excellent idea, Georgina.’’ She instructed the kitchen maids to prepare the children an alfresco lunch, and then she gave her sister a speculative look. "Do you intend to be civil in the dining room?’’
"I hadn’t planned on it,’’ Georgina said lightly.
"How about a wager?’’ Charlotte challenged. She was well aware that Georgina could never resist a bet. "A guinea says you cannot charm John Russell the way you mesmerize other men.’’
"I don’t want to charm him! Perhaps I’ll remain outside and eat with the children.’’
"Don’t you dare, Georgy. That would be like a slap in the face to our guest.’’
"He looks brutish enough to slap me back. I warrant he wouldn’t cavil at striking a woman.’’
"Ah, you are afraid of him.’’
"Afraid? You must be jesting! Lead on, Macduff. I’ll take that wager.’’ Georgina felt a tug on her skirt.
"I want to eat with you,’’ Mary said.
Georgina bent down, and lowered her voice. "I have to eat with the old man. Wouldn’t you be happier having a picnic with the boys? If there’s something you don’t like to eat, you can slip it to the dogs.’’
Mary didn’t have to think twice about it. "Will you come out and play with us again after lunch?’’
"Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.’’
When John Russell entered the dining room with his host, he found that the ladies were there before them. Good manners prompted him to hold Georgina Gordon’s chair, but he braced himself for a rebuff. To his surprise, the young lady thanked him with a gracious smile.
He took his own seat and turned to his hostess. "Lady Lennox, the lawn picnic was an ingenious idea. My sons will truly enjoy the novelty of having lunch outdoors.’’
"It was my sister’s idea. At our mother’s farmhouse in Kinrara we used to picnic outdoors every day that the weather permitted.’’
"Children love to be carefree, and nature provides the perfect setting for all sorts of exciting fun and games,’’ Georgina added.
I wish my sons had more opportunities to be carefree.
"We ran wild, like mad demons, I’m afraid,’’ Charlotte said.
"Some of us still do.’’ Georgina’s green eyes sparkled. She turned her full attention upon John Russell.
"Forgive me for staring, my lord. My curiosity outweighs my good manners. Will you enlighten me about something?’’
"I will do my best, Lady Georgina.’’
" ’Tis the fashion for gentlemen to wear wigs, yet you wear your own hair. Do you look hideous in a wig?’’
He ignored the barb. "It is a political statement to show my opposition to Pitt’s decision to tax powder,’’ he said bluntly.
Georgina’s eyes widened. "It is a mark of sympathy for the poor who need flour for bread. How courageous of you, my lord.’’
"Oh, Lud, don’t get her started on politics, John. She eats and sleeps the stuff,’’ Charlotte declared.
John’s eyes met Georgina’s. You’re a Pitt Tory and I’m a Whig. We’ll be at daggers drawn any minute.
"Are you a parliamentary reformer?’’ she asked avidly.
"I am.’’ He could not keep the challenge from his voice.
"How splendid! And what about Ireland? Are you for her independence?’’
"I am.’’ His deep voice conveyed his strong conviction. "My political philosophy is based on the principle that all governments should be made for the happiness of the many and not for the benefit of the few.’’
Charlotte and Charles exchanged a glance. It was as if they were suddenly invisible and their guests were alone together.
"You fight an uphill battle,’’ Georgina warned.
"I have the temperament for it,’’ John declared.
Georgina smiled into his eyes. "I have no doubt of it.’’
You are intentionally flattering me and hanging on my every word. Lady Georgina Gordon, you may be very young, but you are a practiced coquette. His deliberate glance roamed over her curvaceous figure and came to rest on her full, sensual lower lip. You are actually wearing makeup. The thought shocked him that one so young would employ artifice. I warrant you are shrewd and manipulating. At the moment you are as sweet as honey, but I know from experience, Lady Georgina, that you possess a hot temper.