The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV)

by Anne Gallagher

  She looked up at him. “Will you not sit down?”

  Robert sat next to her and gazed out over the ocean. His thoughts landed on Sonnet Fifty-Six.

  …Let this sad interim like the ocean be,

  Which parts the shore, where two contracted new

  Come daily to the banks, that when they see

  Return of love, more bless’d be the view

  Robert had no idea he’d spoken until Fiona remarked, “What beautiful poetry. Tell me, is it yours?”

  “No,” he said. “Shakespeare. I confess I have not the aptitude for penning sonnets.”

  Fiona rolled over and sat up, her knees under her skirts, arms wrapped around them, her head resting against their top. “I should have liked to study Shakespeare, but my father would not let me. He claimed Old Will ‘twas nothing more than a scrivener of drivel. Robert Burns graced our library.”

  Robert smiled. “My father would have debated the argument to the death. He loved Shakespeare.”

  “So I saw in his library.” Fiona shifted on the sand. “Would you tell me how he passed?”

  Robert stiffened.

  “I’m sorry. If it is too painful, I understand,” Fiona said.

  Robert took a deep breath. “I killed him.”

  Fiona said nothing and Robert looked at her. Her face held no lines of censure, no condemnation. She waited, composed, for him to continue. He returned his gaze back to the sea.

  “My father was a great man, better than any I have met thus. He had a lust for life, a zeal for the everyday that I do not share.” He glanced at her. “You remind me of him in that regard. Fond of everyone, and everyone fond of him. His only fault lay in his temper, which was rarely shown, although when it appeared, you would do best to hide.” Robert picked up a small stone.

  “I respected my father, as would any man in my position. I was raised to handle the responsibility of the duchy, although I had not planned to do so for many years. My father was hale and hearty, and we had no thought he would ever die.” Robert cleared his throat.

  “I had found a small estate I wanted to buy as an investment, but my funds were low, and I asked my father for a loan. He refused, said the land was bog, and the manor nothing more than a pile of rotting timber waiting to fall. You see my father, unbeknownst to me, had already thought about purchasing it, and had inspected its condition more thoroughly than I had. He knew it to be worthless. We entered into a colossal argument. I swear the whole of Mayfair heard us. I stormed from the house, cursing him and his pigheadedness. I went to my club and got snockered, never knowing what was to become of him. A massive attack on his heart. By the time Edwards found me, it was too late.” Robert pitched the stone out to the sea. “I never got a chance to tell him how sorry I was. I never had the chance to tell him…how much….I loved him.”

  Robert pressed his fingers to his eyes. He never spoke of his father because this always happened. He always cried. At the memorial service, it had been acceptable, but here now, almost three years later, to be hit with such emotion. It was not to be borne.

  He felt Fiona slip her hand through his. “I’m sure he loved you very much and forgave you as well.”

  “My mother was with him at the end and she said that he did forgive me, only I cannot forgive myself. My foolishness killed him.”

  “No. You must not blame yourself. Does nothing but cause nightmares. Your father loved you, just as my mother loved me. I only wanted to ride my wee pony. Had I known the impending storm would cause her horse to spook, of course I would not have begged to ride that day. Just as you did not know arguing with your father would cause his attack. We can only see these things in hindsight, but it does no good for us to dwell there. We would go mad.” Fiona paused. “You must remember his love for you, and all that he wanted you to achieve. You are a very good man. Do not become mired in the past. It will destroy you.”

  Robert took comfort in Fiona’s words. They were very much the same as his mother’s.

  “Come,” he said and stood. He helped her up. “The wind has changed, and so has the tide.”

  The trek back to The Cottage was subdued, Robert’s mind on his father. Fiona’s suggestion of walking back by way of the middle rocks proved to be shorter and safer and before he knew it, they were walking beneath the two trees at the bottom of the meadow.

  Fiona stopped and turned back to the ocean. Her hair had come loose while playing on the beach and now danced behind her as the wind from the ocean grew. Robert took in the sight of her gown, damp and sandy in spots, its hem stuck with bits of seaweed and dirt from the ledge. He knew of no other woman who would care to be seen thus.

  “Are you well?” he asked as he walked to her.

  “Oh, aye.” She turned to him with a bright smile. “I am only trying to memorize this day. I shall never forget it as long as I live. Thank you for indulging me.”

  Fiona’s eyes shone clear in the sunlight. Her cheeks held a rosy glow. She was too damned beautiful even in all her wrinkled dirty state. Robert cupped her cheek.

  “No, Fiona,” he said softly. “Thank you for indulging me. This afternoon was one I shall not soon forget as well.” He couldn’t help himself. He kissed her gently.

  Fiona leaned into him and Robert wrapped his other arm protectively around her back. He breathed in the scent of her, salt from the ocean, lavender from her soap, the fresh air that surrounded them. Fiona placed a hand on his chest, close to his heart, and her other hand at his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. Robert deepened the kiss, not knowing why, only wanting to melt into her embrace. He lost all track of time as his lips and tongue joined with hers. She felt good, and right, and this kiss was not born of anger, or worry, or passion, but something Robert had never felt before, an emotion that was as foreign to him as Siam or Africa. He was not afraid of it, nevertheless, it overwhelmed him. He broke off the kiss and stepped back.

  Fiona opened her eyes and smiled. “Shall we return to the house?”

  Robert took her hand in his and they returned to The Cottage.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Their last days in Swansea proved to Fiona, at least, she and Robert could maintain an affable accord. The walk on the beach seemed to have soothed Robert’s rough edges and they talked and laughed throughout the remainder of the stay. There were no more shared kisses, but Fiona was content that they had somehow gotten past the irritability each had found with the other. She looked forward to the return to London hoping the tranquility they had found would last. She promised herself she would do her best to preserve it.

  Upon their arrival at Cantin House, Edwards met them at the door.

  “Your Grace, my lady, welcome home,” he said.

  “Edwards,” Robert said entering the foyer.

  Fiona noticed the crispness of his tone, as if upon entering the city limits of London, a spell had been cast over him and transformed her husband back into the autocrat she despised.

  “Mr. Edwards, how lovely to see you,” Fiona said gaily. “I trust you are well?”

  Robert shot her a look of admonishment.

  Edwards acknowledged her query, and then busied himself overseeing the removal of the trunks from the carriage.

  As they walked down the hall, Robert whispered, “I do wish you would stop inquiring of the servants. They are servants, not friends.”

  “Surely you cannot mean that?” Fiona stood aghast

  “Yes, I do,” he said.

  “They are people who are to be treated with respect.”

  “I respect them for how they do their job in this household. They are afforded a decent bed, salary, and time off. They work for me. They are not my companions, nor do I wish to have them as such. And you, my dear, will do best to remember that.”

  As he left her standing in the hall, Fiona wondered where the Robert she had just spent the previous weeks in Swansea with had gone. She flounced her way up to her room, slamming the door behind her.

  Of all the indecent thing
s to say! Treat the servants as servants without giving a care for their health or well-being. Oh, the man was too much!

  Fiona changed out of her traveling gown, donned a light grey day frock, and helped Merry unpack her trunks, then sought out her mother-in-law.

  “Here you are, at last,” Lady Joanna said when Fiona stepped into the conservatory. “Robert told me of your return, but I thought you were resting.”

  Fiona kissed her cheek. “No, I only changed my gown. How do you fare?”

  “Very well, very well.” Lady Joanna pulled off her gardening gloves. “However the larger question is, how do you fare, my dear? You and Robert ran off so quickly, and with such a cryptic note, I must admit I was a little worried.” Lady Joanna walked toward the doorway. “Shall we take tea, and you may tell me all about your adventure.”

  Fiona followed her to the small salon and Lady Joanna pulled the bell. When James the Elder appeared, she asked for tea and cakes, which were brought immediately.

  “Now tell me how you found the seaside,” Lady Joanna said, turning her full attention on Fiona.

  Fiona gushed over the memories of her time spent in Swansea. She knew she would never forget it as long as she lived.

  “Robert mentioned you have come to an understanding,” Lady Joann said lightly over the rim of her teacup.

  “I’m not sure I comprehend your meaning.” What understanding?

  “He expressed you no longer growl like baited bears while in the same room. He also mentioned he was very impressed with the way you helped him with his business arrangements.”

  “I did nothing except to reschedule when Robert did not feel well.”

  Lady Joanna smiled. “Fiona dearest, you are too modest by half. Robert told me of your dinner party, and the luncheon for the Vicar. He said you entertained beautifully and modestly, and he was very impressed with your knowledge of the topics presented at table.”

  “Robert said that?” Fiona was now certain that somehow, the Almighty had presented Lady Joanna with twins and one had been hiding since birth. Robert had merely thanked her for her choice of menus for the events. Why couldn’t he have heaped his own praise, instead of Fiona learning of it second-hand?

  “He regaled me with the story of how you put out the fire in Sir Grentham’s pocket.”

  “Oh dear, yes, well, that was certainly a sight to be sure.” The poor old man had placed his smoldering pipe in his pocket and it had caught fire. Before anyone could react, Fiona took her glass of wine and dumped it in his pocket.

  Lady Joanna laughed. “I surely would liked to have seen it. And what did you say? ‘Now, there is no need to carry a flask, you only have to suck on your pocket.’ Priceless, my dear, absolutely priceless.”

  Fiona smiled. Thankfully, Sir Grentham had also seen the humor in it. Looking back, Robert had seemed amused as well.

  “Now, my dear, lest I forget, Robert has charged me to put together a dinner party here. He has an idea for new legislation to put through a committee, but as you know, all things Parliament must be discussed beforehand. I believe I shall leave this dinner to you.”

  “Oh no, Lady Joanna, I could not. The dinner in Swansea was merely a small party. I should not know how to assemble a larger gathering.”

  “Pish, my dear, ‘tis the same thing. The only change is the menu. Robert fancies the full board for one of these and Edwards, I assure you, will do all of the work. Your only requirement is to discuss the menu with Cook. Robert will give you the guest list.” Lady Joanna placed her teacup on its saucer.

  Fiona bit her bottom lip. A dinner party for members of Parliament seemed a great undertaking, although if Edwards shouldered most of the responsibility, Fiona would only have to be gay and entertaining on her side of the dinner table. That did not seem so hard.

  “Very well,” Fiona said. “I shall try. However, I will still need your help.”

  “I shall have Edwards give you the books and you may look them over.”

  “Books?”

  “Yes, of course dearest. Every great house has a book in which all major events are recorded, balls, dinners, teas, any kind of celebration really. You will find all you need in it, from the invitations, guest lists, and menus, right down to the seating arrangements, which you really must pay attention to, precedence and all that, you know. I shall have Edwards bring them up.” She glanced at the clock. “I’m delighted you are returned my dear, but I must dash. I promised Olivia I would join her for luncheon.” Lady Joanna rose, kissed Fiona good-bye, and departed.

  Fiona finished her tea, and then walked to the library where she knew she would find Robert.

  “Your mother mentioned you wished to have a dinner party,” she said from the open doorway.

  Robert glanced up from his desk, impatience on his face. “Yes.”

  “Have you the guest list ready?”

  “Edwards has it. Why do you ask? My mother is taking care of it.”

  “Your mother gave me the responsibility,” Fiona said and turned to walk away.

  “What? No.” Robert stood. “Where is she? I shall speak with her directly.”

  “She has gone to luncheon with Lady Olivia.,” she said, petulance tingeing her voice. “Tell me, my lord, do you think I could not handle the task? I was dependable enough for you in Swansea.”

  “That was different, ‘twas just the vicar and a few of the local villagers. This is very important to me, Fiona. I do not wish to have any misgivings about the evening.”

  “I see. So you only wish to use my abilities as duchess when it suits you.”

  “Fiona, that is not what I meant.”

  “Yes, my lord,” she said and then sighed. “It is.” With that, she walked away and up to her room.

  *****

  What a mess he’d made, again. Robert sat back down in his chair and looked at the paperwork he had yet to do. There must be an easier way to get along with the chit. Perhaps she’d been right all along. If he had just sent her off to the Continent the day they had married, no one would have been the wiser and he wouldn’t be feeling like such a cad.

  He had to give her credit. Fiona had done extremely well in Swansea meeting the local Society. There wasn’t much to it, only Sir Grentham and his wife, along with Billinscord, Viscount Douglas, and the Vicar and his wife. However, this dinner was something different. This was a dinner for the conservative members of Parliament whom he needed on his side. It would only take five votes to pass the bill and Robert needed every one. In asking his mother to oversee the evening, as he had done for so long, Robert was assured of those five votes. His mother could charm the snakes in India. He had completely forgotten Fiona would be his hostess.

  He bellowed for Edwards who took a few minutes to appear, which was in itself, extremely unusual.

  “Your Grace.”

  Edwards’ cheeky tone drew Robert’s eye. “Edwards, it seems my mother has foisted the dinner party off on Fiona. Could you see to it there are no mistakes?”

  Edwards wrinkled his nose. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I believe there has been a misunderstanding.”

  “I beg your pardon. What kind of misunderstanding?”

  “Lady Joanna instructed me to bring the household books to Lady Fiona. In trying to give them to her just now, she told me she had no need of them, that you forbid her to plan the party. She asked me to return the books to my office.”

  Insolence in his butler’s tone along with a look of disappointment in his eye was not to be borne. Good Lord, the woman had usurped his entire staff.

  “Where is she?” Robert stood. He would take care of this right now.

  “She, Your Grace?”

  More impertinence! “My wife, Edwards.”

  “I believe Lady Fiona was to go for a walk with her maid.”

  Robert sat back down. “Fine. Ask her to step in when she returns.” He noted Edwards’ stiff upper lip. “Please, ask her to step in when she returns, Edwards, if you would be so kind.”

  “V
ery good, Your Grace.”

  Several hours passed and still Fiona did not appear. During a late luncheon, which Robert had waited for her until he was practically starved, he’d asked Edwards if she was dodging him. Edwards’ face clearly showed alarm. If Edwards was worried, then perhaps Robert should be as well. Where could the damn girl be? Perhaps she’d sought solace with one of her friends.

  “Edwards, send Eammon round to Fiona’s usual haunts, see if he can round her up, would you?” Robert said as he left the dining room

  “Her usual haunts, Your Grace?”

  “Yes, her friends, Lady Penny, and Mrs. Gaines. I’m sure she must be with them.”

  “As you wish, Your Grace.”

  Eammon returned within the hour and reported to Robert that neither the Duchess of Caymore, nor Mrs. Gaines had seen Lady Fiona all day. As a matter of fact, neither of them had even known of her return from the seaside.

  Robert found himself with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He ordered his horse saddled. He would ride through Town and find her himself. Damned silly chit, she was probably sulking somewhere.

  The afternoon sun slanted toward four o’clock as he raced Zeus toward the Park and down along the Row. Perhaps she and her maid were by the Serpentine. Instead, he found William, whom he implored to help in the search.

  Taking off in different directions, they met back at Cantin House an hour later, where Edwards informed them Fiona had not returned. However, his mother had and was in near hysterics. Robert bade Edwards to round up the footman who could ride and have them search the city as well. He needed to find her before it became dark. London at night was no place for an unescorted duchess and her maid.

  Where could she possibly be? William had searched the Park again and Mayfair while Robert had gone to the shops on Bond Street and around Piccadilly. He gave the footmen directions to spread out as far as an hour’s ride would take them and then return to Cantin House. If she had not been found by then, they were to set off again in different directions and expand their search. Robert sent Eammon to scour the finer restaurants within the city.