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

by Anne Gallagher

  At half-three, Fiona found herself walking through an empty house. The servants had finally finished cleaning up, Edwards had taken himself away to bed, and the overnight footman sat drowsily in his chair by the front door. Fiona crept into Robert’s study. Standing over his desk, she lit a candle, and looked through the set of keys she had taken off his dresser. Finding the right one, she sat down and opened the lock to the bottom drawer.

  “What are you doing?”

  Fiona nearly jumped to the ceiling. Robert sat in darkness in his old chair in the corner.

  “I asked, what are you doing?” Robert rose unsteadily to his feet, and swayed as he walked toward her.

  “Looking for you,” she lied. “I wondered if you had gone to bed, and when I checked your room and found you not there, I came down here.”

  “Fee, we have to talk.” Robert spilled whatever was in his glass as he set it down on the desk. “I’m sorry about tonight. So very sorry.”

  Fiona walked around the desk. “Yes, I know. ‘Twas all a big misunderstanding. Come now, let me help you upstairs.” And once he was abed, she would come back down and finish what she started.

  “No, Fee, you do not understand. ‘Twas not my fault. She accosted me. Please, Fee, tell me you understand. I did not mean any of it.”

  He looked so pathetic, Fiona almost felt sorry for him. “I know, dearest, I know. But come now, I’m sure you shall feel much better about all this in the morning. We can talk then.” She slipped her arm around his back and led him out of the room.

  “You’re a good woman, Fee. I do not deserve you,” he said as they walked into the hall.

  “You are right, you do not,” she said. The footman stirred and Fiona whispered for him to take Robert’s side and help him to his room.

  Attached to the footman, Robert looked at her with baleful bloodshot eyes. “Where are you going? I thought you said we were to bed.”

  “The footman will help you upstairs, dearest. You are too heavy for me in your condition. I’m going to blow out the candle in the study and then I will join you. Now up you go.” She gave him a pat on the arm, and Robert and the footman climbed the stairs. Fiona waited until they reached the first landing before heading back into the study.

  She quickly opened the drawer. Rifling through the papers, she found the annulment decree and read it carefully. She scrawled Robert’s signature on the bottom, and dug out his signet ring from her pocket. Taking the candle, she dripped wax on the bottom and buried the signet into it. She replaced the candle, and blew across the ink. Done. In six weeks time she would no longer be the Duchess of Cantin.

  She locked the drawer, took the papers, and stood. It was time to depart.

  Upstairs, she first woke Merry and told her to meet her outside in the mews. Then on silent feet, she replaced Robert’s keys and his ring in the little dish on his dresser. He lay on his back in his bed, snoring loudly. In his condition, she had little doubt he would even remember their conversation or her being in his study.

  She slipped through the connecting door and went into her room. The jewels he had given her lay in a box on the top of her bed, along with her note. After the happenings at the ball tonight, no one would check on her. She could count on her mother-in-law to say she was not to be disturbed, and as Merry was the only one she ever allowed in her chamber, no one would. She turned the lock in the connecting door, gathered her shawl and took one last glance around her room. She had everything she needed. She stepped into the hall, closed the door behind her, and snuck down the back staircase.

  In the mews, Eammon and Merry stood by the carriage. Eammon handed Merry and Fiona up, and then he climbed aboard, flicked the reins, and they set off.

  Fiona finally let go of the breath she had been holding.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The Bainbridge Hotel was exquisite. Fiona loved her room on the third floor. The tree just outside her window gave the impression she lived in an aerie. And having Merry with her in the little bedroom adjoining her suite, gave Fiona a sense of security she hadn’t realized she needed, or wanted.

  Checking in at half-four in the morning had been no problem. Greenleigh had secured the rooms for his ‘cousin’, the Earl of Kintyre’s daughter, who would be arriving very late. And as Eammon wore her father’s crest on his livery, which matched the crest on her trunk, she was led to her room with all the civility a woman of her station was afforded.

  Sitting at the small table in the half-light of the early dawn, Fiona waited for Eammon’s return. He was to bring back the carriage and horse, and return to the Bainbridge for he was no longer a part of Cantin’s household.

  Fiona heaved a sigh of relief. No one would think to look for her until later today, or maybe even tomorrow. Robert would surely remain in his comatose state for the better part of two days together, which would give Fiona time for her own undisturbed rest. She refused to give in to the tears that threatened. This was the best course, and she heard her father’s voice in her head – ‘Twill do you no good to lament over the past. Get on with the business at hand and look to the future.

  And she would. Greenleigh’s sincere offer of assistance was a welcome advantage as she was sure Robert would presume she would weep and thrash over his dalliance with Mary Elizabeth. Hah! He did not know her at all. Fiona had plans to make. She had no time for Robert or his emotions. She would get on with the business at hand and that did not include him.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. Eammon.

  She opened the door. “Had you any trouble?” Fiona asked.

  “No, mum. All was quiet.”

  “Good. Now I want you to go to your room and get a well-deserved rest. I shall not require you until later this afternoon say four o’clock. If you wish to eat, the kitchen will serve you on my bill. Only do not forget to say you are from the Earl of Kintyre’s household. Can you remember that?”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  She smiled. “You are a good man, Eammon, and soon all will be right. Now get your rest.” She started to close the door.

  “Are you sure this is what you wish, my lady?”

  Fiona appreciated his concern deeply. “Yes, Eammon. It is exactly what I wish.” Perhaps if she told herself that enough times she would believe it.

  He gave her a nod, and walked off to the servants’ staircase. Fiona closed the door, locked it, and went into her new bedroom. Taking off her ball gown and under-layers, she slipped her nightgown over her head and crawled between the covers. She went to take off her wedding rings and when she didn’t find them, she let the tears flow freely. She had purposely left them behind in the box on the bed at Cantin House.

  Fiona found she had little trouble sleeping. She awoke at half-one in the afternoon and felt good and rested. Merry sat at the little table with needlework when Fiona appeared.

  “Good morning, your ladyship, I mean, to say, good afternoon,” Merry said rising from the chair.

  “Good afternoon, Merry. Tell me, have you eaten? I hope you did not wait for me.”

  “No, my lady I have not. I did not know how to go about it.”

  Fiona smiled. “I’m quite sure I do not know how either, but let us see if this works.” Fiona walked to the bell pull by the door and gave it a yank. “I trust you slept well.”

  “I did. ‘Tis a lovely mattress. And yourself?”

  “Surprisingly, I slept very well. Very well indeed.” Perhaps because she knew she had done the right thing in leaving Robert.

  A knock came on the door. Merry answered and found a footman whom she ushered into the room.

  “My name is Bolton, your ladyship. I am the floor steward. How may I be of assistance?”

  “Mr. Bolton, I believe we are quite famished. However, I do not wish to go down to the restaurant. Is it possible to have a tray brought up?”

  Bolton bowed. “Of course.” He turned to the small table by the door and handed her a bill of fare. “If you have a special request, our chef would be deligh
ted to accommodate you.”

  Fiona perused the menu and asked Merry what she would like. They both settled on a rasher of ham and eggs, with apple tarts, scones, and muffins to nibble on later, along with two pots of tea, a pot of hot chocolate, and a pitcher of lemonade.

  Bolton bowed again. “I will have it brought up directly.”

  “Mr. Bolton, could you tell me, are there any other guests on this floor?”

  “Not on this side of the hotel, my lady. Your cousin requested you be given the quietest rooms in the house. He did not wish for you to be disturbed.”

  Fiona smiled. Greenleigh certainly was a blessing. “Thank you, Mr. Bolton. You’ve been most helpful.”

  He bowed and left the room.

  Fiona turned to Merry. “I believe I will dress now while we wait for luncheon.” She waved her hand as Merry went to accompany her. “Do not trouble yourself. I will slip into one of my old calico’s and return presently.”

  Fiona dressed, luncheon was brought up and while they ate, Fiona composed several letters. Just finished with their meal, there was a knock on the door. Merry answered and she ushered Eammon into the parlour.

  “Have you eaten, Eammon? Would you care for a tart, a cup of tea perhaps?”

  “No, thank you, mum. I had my fill down in the servants hall. I know you said four o’clock for me to come to ye’, but I have some news I thought you might like to see.” Eammon took a newssheet from under his jacket. “’Tis the morning edition I filched, er, borrowed from the maitre‘d hotel.”

  Fiona took the paper and unfolded it, having to look no further than the screaming headline.

  Duke of Cantin Courts Old Flame at Cantin Ball in Front Of New Duchess

  Last night at the Cantin Ball, it seemed the Dashing Duke lost his head when his former betrothed entered the ballroom. The lovely Lady Fiona soldiered on with a brave face when her handsome husband cut her directly and danced the first waltz with Countess de Lavallier, a scandalous breach of etiquette in any Society. What next for our dear Scottish lass?

  Fiona threw back her head and laughed. What next indeed? Fiona wished she could see Robert’s face when he read the article.

  “Thank you, Eammon,” she said. “This is a most interesting diversion. However, now that you are here, I have several errands for you to run.”

  She showed him the letters and the package.

  “And you must remember,” Fiona emphasized, “to tell Berkely and Goss that under no circumstances are they to contact His Grace with any memorandum concerning these documents. The duke does not want to be reminded of his foolish marriage and wishes to put it all behind him.”

  “Yes, your ladyship,” Eammon said. “Under no circumstances.”

  “Good. And if you would not mind waiting for a response from Greenleigh, I would appreciate it.”

  “Of course, mum.”

  There was a knock at the door and Merry answered it. “Lord Greenleigh, my lady.”

  “Greenleigh, how delightful, do come in,” Fiona said, perhaps a bit too brightly. Sending off the annulment papers had her wrestling with her conscience as well as her emotions. However, she did not want to break down in front of her servants, and Greenleigh was the perfect distraction. She turned to Eammon and took the letter she had penned to the earl off the pile.

  “Thank you, Eammon. I’ve written the direction on the package. Do you think you should need some coin?”

  “No, my lady. I have enough.”

  “Very well.” She turned to Greenleigh. “Please, do come in, where are my manners? Would you care for a cup? Merry would you mind?” She led him over to the divan and Fiona sat in the overstuffed chair. “Shall we sit down then.”

  “I must say, you look quite fine today,” Greenleigh said as he settled himself.

  Merry brought the tea tray with a small plate of apple tarts.

  “Thank you, Merry.” Fiona smiled. “You may finish your needlepoint if you wish.”

  Fiona poured, and said, “Thank you kindly for your compliment, Greenleigh. Perhaps a little too dowdy for a duchess, although just enough for an Earl’s daughter. I must say, this is an excellent hotel. Thank you so much for your kind recommendation.”

  “’Twas the least I could do. Tell me, have you seen the papers today?” He took his cup and sipped.

  “Only one. Why, is there much gossip?”

  Greenleigh chuckled. “You are the talk of Society once again, Lady Fiona.”

  “What are they saying? Or I wonder whether I should ask, who is the favorite to win?”

  “I believe the odds are in your favor. At least at White’s and Brook’s. The Countess is not doing very well in the standings. The dowagers are in an outrage, thanks in part to Lady Olivia.”

  “How so?” It was Fiona’s turn to be intrigued.

  “I have heard Lady Olivia has rallied her friends against the Countess in an effort to blackball her from Society.”

  “My goodness, can she even do that?” Fiona was aghast the dowager held such power.

  “Oh yes. And then some. It seems Lady Olivia has more influence than all the hostesses at Almack’s put together.”

  “Well, it serves the Countess right for ruining my lovely ball.” Fiona smiled.

  “And your marriage,” Greenleigh said quietly.

  “I shan’t lay all the blame at Mary Elizabeth’s feet. I must lay some with Robert as well.”

  “I do not know how you can bear it, Lady Fiona. If I were in your shoes I should be abed weeping for at least a fortnight.”

  “’Twould do no good, Greenleigh. Cantin does not possess a sympathetic bone in his body when it comes to me. Why, he will probably wake from his stupor and dance a jig when he finds I’m gone.”

  “I would not take a bet on that, your ladyship. I believe you will find Cantin to be in a rage when he finds you gone.”

  “Well, then he shall surely have an apoplexy when the annulment papers are delivered.”

  Greenleigh cast her an odd look. “What are you saying?”

  “I have signed his damnable annulment papers,” Fiona said. “He made the mistake of showing them to me in a fit of pique several weeks ago. Last night, after he was abed, I signed them in his name, used his signet, and just now sent Eammon to deliver them to his solicitor. In six weeks, I shall no longer be the Duchess of Cantin and he will be free to marry the Countess de Lavallier.”

  “Lady Fiona you cannot do that! It is against the law! Why, it is forgery.”

  “Greenleigh, who is to tell? No one knows what I am about, save you. And I trust you will not expose me. After all the Countess is a delectable enticement, would you not say? If anyone should ask, I will say I presumed Robert realized he no longer wished to be married to me and laid his signature to the paperwork after the ball. As inebriated as he was last night, he could have run down Marylebone Street naked and he would not remember.”

  A slow smile spread across Greenleigh’s face. “My dear Lady Fiona, your eye for detail is exquisite. You could be a spy for the army.”

  Fiona giggled. “No, Greenleigh. I am determined is all. My marriage was doomed from the start. I gave it a valiant effort, but I know when to fold my cards. When Robert danced with the Countess, I knew he would never love me the way he loves her. I knew from…the way he held her….” Fiona choked back a sob. “Forgive me.”

  Greenleigh leaned across the small table. “Lady Fiona. This is too much for you.”

  “No.” She brought her napkin up to her eyes. “I am fine. It only hurts when I think on it. And I shall think on it no longer. I am resigned. Robert never loved me. So you see, I am doing the right thing by leaving him and giving him what he wants, what he has always wanted, an annulment and the chance to be with the woman he truly loves.”

  Greenleigh stared at her. “Lady Fiona, you are too good for him.”

  “Yes,” Fiona said. “Robert and I both agreed last night on that point as well.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

&nbs
p; Robert awoke with a splitting headache and an empty stomach. He did not know which he wished he could fix first. He made his way into his water closet, relieved himself, and then splashed cold water on his face. Looking in the mirror above the sink he saw a man who was a hundred years old. He wondered if there was any liquor left in the tantalus, or had he drank it all.

  He lurched back into his bedroom and rang the bell for Davidson. His valet appeared two minutes later with a tall glass of water, headache powder, a pot of coffee, and two dry pieces of toast. God Bless Davidson.

  Robert took the medicine, drank the water, and shoved a piece of toast in his mouth. “What time is it, Davey?” The curtains were still drawn and he could not read the clock across the room. His eyes were swimming.

  “Almost noon, Your Grace.”

  “Is anyone else up?”

  “None from the family. Edwards has been working with a minimum staff until they are all rested.”

  “Very well. I believe I shall take the day off. Wake me for dinner, please.” Robert handed the glass to his valet and crawled back under the covers. He was asleep before Davidson closed the door.

  Robert sat up and looked at the clock. He could see it was just after four. He lay in his bed contemplating the events of last night. He had spoken to the Regent, but after that, the night became a blur. Mary Elizabeth had returned, he knew. And he had done something, but in his inebriated state he couldn’t remember what. He vowed he would never touch another drop of alcohol as long as he lived.

  He rang for Davidson and requested a bath. He would feel much better purged of the smell of his own body and with food in his stomach.

  Bathed and dressed, he made his way downstairs and met Edwards coming out of the dining room.

  “Edwards, do you think you might scrounge me something to eat?”