Elizabeth felt the floor move beneath her feet, and she gripped the arms of her chair. Her senses swam, and her mouth went completely dry. A voice inside her head screamed, _No! No! No! No_! All the fear she had instinctively felt when she first met him came rushing back to her. A picture of his stocky build and hooded, hard eyes flashed into her mind, and she knew he was capable of cruelty. She licked bloodless lips and whispered, "I cannot accept his offer."
"Don't be ridiculous." Bridget dismissed her words without a blink. "We have accepted for you since you are not of legal age. I know the thought of becoming Her Grace, Duchess of Hamilton, is overwhelming for you, Elizabeth, but you must become accustomed to it. I realize such wealth and title are beyond your wildest dreams, but the honor and the prestige, not only for you but for your whole family, is nothing short of a miracle. You are blessed, Elizabeth. This is a gift from the gods!"
Beth rose in such agitation that her chair fell over. She fled and did not stop until she reached the sanctuary of her bedchamber.
When Jack stood up to follow his daughter, Bridget said, "Leave her! You've spoiled her all her life. What Elizabeth needs is a good dose of ignoring."
That night when Maria came into their bedchamber, she began to chatter about the houses she and George had looked at. Beth, pretending to be asleep, felt deeply relieved when Maria gave up and went to bed. Elizabeth could not sleep, but lay wide awake fighting a fear that threatened to overpower her.
For hours she managed to keep thoughts of the Duke of Hamilton at bay, but eventually they penetrated through the barrier she had erected and began to overwhelm her. _I will never agree to marry him_, she vowed adamantly, yet underneath her defiant resolve a fear lurked that her mother's decisions would rule her life, as always. _I will not marry Hamilton! I don't love him, and I never could! When he asks me, I shall tell him the answer is NO_!
Gradually memories of John Campbell intruded and steadily, forcefully, implacably drove out all thoughts of Hamilton. Just before dawn sleep overcame her and Elizabeth began to dream. She was at Combe Bank, John's house in Kent. She was arranging yellow lilies in a blue-and-white Chinese jar. Joy and happiness danced in the air like dust motes bathed in rays of sunbeams slanting in through the leaded windowpanes. She turned, saw him standing with open arms, and ran, laughing, to be enfolded safely against his heart.
When Elizabeth awoke, she knew that her dreams had supplied the answer to her dreaded dilemma. It was suddenly so simple. She would go to John and tell him that she wanted to live with him at Combe Bank in Kent. Under the powerful protection of Argyll, she would be able to escape the attentions of Hamilton. She would also be free of her mother's domination. The fact that John could not marry her no longer seemed the terrible impediment it had been up until yesterday. She _loved_ him, and that was really all that mattered. It was a thousand times preferable to live with a man without marriage than live with a man without love. Later this morning they were going to the dressmakers so that she could be fitted for her maid of honor gown for Maria's wedding. Somehow, she would find a way to slip away and go to John.
*Chapter Nineteen*
For the past few nights John Campbell had slept only fitfully. When Morpheus did claim him, his dreams were filled with sensual visions of Elizabeth. Even while he was awake, she was never far from his thoughts, and since their angry parting, a growing emptiness had begun inside him. He had lingered in London, hoping against hope that she would change her mind and come to him. Today, he decided to return to Kent. It was February and signs that spring would be early were everywhere. He penned a note telling his steward at Sundridge to expect him and gave it to Robert Hay to post.
"My lord, this just arrived." His secretary handed him an envelope with the royal seal of the Duke of Cumberland.
John slit the wax with his fingernail and read the note. "I'm summoned to the War Office. I shouldn't be long. When I return we'll leave for Kent. Pack up my paperwork, Robert. We'll do the correspondence at Combe Bank."
When John got to Whitehall, he made his way to the Horse Guards where Cumberland occupied quarters next to the War Office. A guard in uniform saluted and ushered him inside. The moment the king's son, William, Duke of Cumberland, saw him he strode to his side. "John, I have bad news, I'm afraid. I wanted to tell you in person rather than have you receive it through official channels. Your brother and two of his men have been killed in action."
"Henry? Killed? But we're not at war!"
"Not officially. He was on a sortie along the French border. There was a skirmish. Captain Campbell and two of his lieutenants got separated from their men and were killed by enemy fire."
"Is there any chance the report is false?" he asked tersely. "I checked immediately ... it's been confirmed. I'm sorry." John closed his eyes. _Dear God, not Henry. He was too young, too hungry for life_.' He opened his eyes and looked bleakly at the man with whom he'd faced death so many times on the battlefield. "Could you arrange for his body to be shipped home to Inveraray?"
Cumberland nodded. "I've already done so." _How will Mother bear the loss_? Then he thought of his father, who already shouldered the twin burdens of age and power. John cursed the Fates who had placed his brother too close to enemy lines. A soldier stationed in the Netherlands in peacetime was not supposed to lose his life. "Thank you for telling me in person. I'll leave for Scotland today."
Though Elizabeth enthusiastically complimented Maria on her choice of wedding dress at the _modiste_ shop, her focus drifted elsewhere while she was being fitted for her pink maid of honor gown. All she could think about was seeing John. She would tell him that she would go to Combe Bank as soon as Maria was married because she was to be her sister's maid of honor. What if John wouldn't wait? What if he asked her to go before Easter? Then it would have to be today, she decided recklessly. If he wanted her now, she would go and never return to Great Marlborough Street!
Elizabeth saw that her mother was preoccupied looking at gowns suitable for the mother of the bride and was paying scant attention to her. She crossed her fingers and hoped Bridget's disinterest continued until she made her planned escape. Finally, her mother and sister were ready to leave and, outside the shop on Bond Street, Bridget hailed a hackney cab. Halfway home, Elizabeth took a deep, steadying breath and declared boldly, "I need some fresh air. I have a terrible headache and believe I shall walk home."
She heaved a sigh of relief when her mother hardly batted an eye as she rapped sharply for the driver's attention and told him to stop.
The moment the cab disappeared into traffic, Elizabeth turned and hurried in the opposite direction toward Half-Moon Street. Her heart lifted with every step, knowing that soon she would be with John. She would put herself completely in his hands, and he would keep her safe. Elizabeth ran up the town house steps and lifted the brass knocker. The door was opened by the same servant who had stared at her beauty. She smiled at him and tried not to blush.
"Lord Sundridge, please."
"Mistress Gunning, I am sorry, but his lordship left London an hour ago." He did not return her smile and looked most solemn.
"Oh, dear. Has he gone to Kent?" She tried not to let her disappointment overwhelm her; Combe Bank was only twelve miles away.
"No, mistress, he's gone home to Scotland." She felt as if the doormat had been pulled from beneath her feet. She saw the closed look on the servant's face and knew he had been trained to keep his lordship's business private. "Thank you," she murmured politely, outwardly composed but inwardly at sea. She did not remember descending the steps or walking down Half-Moon Street, but when she came to the corner, she stopped and asked herself where she was going. The answer came back: _Great Marlborough Street_. Elizabeth was devastated. She had nowhere else to go but home.
When Elizabeth left the carriage to walk off a headache, Bridget decided it would be an opportune time to tell Maria that the Duke of Hamilton had asked for her sister's hand. When they arrived home, she removed her bonnet and broached t
he subject carefully. "Your sister has been very quiet the last few days. It is because she is feeling overwhelmed."
"Oh, I know all about Elizabeth!" Maria removed her hat and fluffed out her hair. "She fancied herself in love with John Campbell. Then she heard the rumor that he was to wed Lady Mary Montagu, the daughter of the Duke of Buccleuch, and began to sulk."
"John Campbell? She's in love with John Campbell?" Bridget demanded, grabbing Maria by the shoulders. "What do you mean?"
"She met him at Dublin Castle, in Ireland, remember? Then she met him again at Chiswick and has been lovesick ever since. George told me that John Campbell is heir to the powerful Duke of Argyll in Scotland, and is expected to marry Lady Mary Montagu. Imagine Elizabeth thinking a duke's son would propose marriage?"
Bridget pushed Maria into the drawing room, trying to contain a feeling of panic. "Sit down. Now think carefully. Has Elizabeth been nauseated? Do you think she could be having a child?"
"No ... no, I don't think so," Maria said in a shocked voice.
"Emma! Emma! Where is that blasted woman?" Bridget cried.
Emma came running. "Whatever is it, madam?"
"Your job is to _chaperon_ my daughters! At Chiswick was Elizabeth ever alone with that John Campbell?"
"Absolutely not, Mrs. Gunning." Emma shot Maria a warning glance. "I made sure that Elizabeth was never alone with Lord Sundridge, just as I made certain Maria was never alone with the Earl of Coventry."
"Out, both of you," Bridget ordered. "I wish to speak with Elizabeth privately when she arrives."
Elizabeth's steps lagged all the way home. She felt almost as if she were sleepwalking. She didn't know what she could do other than wait until John returned from Scotland. She did know, however, what she would _not_ do. She would not marry Hamilton.
When she opened the front door she saw her mother standing with her arms folded and a grim look upon her face. Elizabeth put her hand to her brow. The headache she'd pretended suddenly descended.
"Come in here, young madam. I've been waiting for you."
Elizabeth, who had thought nothing worse could happen to her, immediately realized she had been wrong. She quietly entered the drawing room and took the chair Bridget indicated. Her mother stood before her, seeming to take up all the space in the room. "Now I know the reason you coldly rejected the opportunity of a lifetime. You've been playing the whore to John Campbell! Have you given him your virginity, the only thing you have of any worth? Come, we shall go and confront him now!"
"No, I have not given him my virginity, and you cannot go and confront him. He has gone to Scotland," she said quietly.
Bridget heaved an inward sigh of relief and seized upon her words. "And do you know why he has gone to Scotland, you silly, naive girl? He has gone to marry Lady Mary Montagu, the daughter of the wealthy Duke of Buccleuch!"
Elizabeth felt as if a cruel hand reached into her breast to crush her heart. She closed her eyes against the sharp pain.
_It's not true! It's not true!_
"I read it myself two days ago in the Society pages," Bridget lied. "The wedding of the two powerful families that will unite their clans is the talk of the _ton_." Bridget watched Elizabeth's reaction with satisfaction. "We will say no more on the matter. How providential that you have received your own offer of marriage to a Duke of the Realm."
Elizabeth, who was adept at repressing the anger her mother aroused, deeply resented being forced to be submissive. She longed to take the dominant role and scream, _I shall never marry Hamilton! Come, we shall go and confront him now_! But she did not dare use a defiant tone to her mother. She clasped her hands tightly to ease their trembling, then said politely and honestly, "I do not wish to marry the Duke of Hamilton."
Bridget's temper ignited. She lashed out and slapped Elizabeth hard across the face. "Seek your room!"
Jack Gunning, about to leave the house, had overheard his daughter's words and the subsequent slap she had received for uttering them. As Elizabeth ran past him, he saw the livid mark on her delicate cheek. Instead of confronting his wife, Jack Gunning decided to go and express his daughter's wishes to Hamilton.
He was admitted to Hamilton House by a liveried major-domo and made to cool his heels outside the library for quite some time before he was allowed audience with the duke.
"Just the man I wanted to see." Hamilton held up an envelope he had just sealed. "I have written out precise instructions for your wife. Make sure they are followed to the letter."
"I've come to speak to you about Elizabeth. She is not happy with the arrangements we have entered into for her marriage. My daughter is extremely young, Your Grace. I believe that she is somewhat overwhelmed. I ask that you give her time to become used to the idea."
"Are you aware that I have deposited money in your name?"
"I am, Your Grace, but--"
"Then you must be aware that Elizabeth is bought and paid for." Hamilton's eyes were as hard as pebbles. He stood up, walked to Jack's side, and handed him the envelope. "Follow these orders or be prepared to spend the next year in debtors' prison, Gunning. The choice is yours. Know that I can and will press charges."
Jack returned to Great Marlborough Street feeling defeated and cursing himself for a coward. When he handed the envelope to Bridget, he did not try to explain his visit to Hamilton House or his reason for seeing the duke. "If we don't follow his orders to the letter, he's threatened me with the Fleet. Hamilton will make a deadly enemy, I fear."
Bridget tore open the letter and scanned the instructions. "There is no need for us to be enemies, Jack! I know which side our bread is buttered on, if you don't. I realize Elizabeth is your favorite child and you want only what is best for her. But if the Duke of Hamilton desires her enough to get her at any cost, you know he will be good to her."
He clutched the straw she held out to him like a drowning man. "She'll never want for anything again. She'll be set for life."
The Gunning ladies were readying themselves for Princess Augusta's Valentine Ball at Leicester House. For once, Bridget paid more attention to Elizabeth than she did to Maria. "No, no, not the gold ball gown again. You have worn it to the last two receptions. Tonight I think you should wear the white."
"Perhaps I should stay home tonight. I have a headache, and I don't want to spoil your evening."
"I have the very thing for head pain. You are indisposed far too often lately." Bridget went to her own chamber and returned with a small bottle of laudanum. She mixed a couple of drops with water and bade Elizabeth drink it. "Hurry and finish dressing. Your father is escorting us tonight." She slipped the laudanum into her reticule. "Emma, come and help me with my hair."
When the sisters were alone Maria said, "You don't want people to pity you because John Campbell has spurned you and gone off to marry Lady Moneybags. Hold your head high, laugh, and pretend you are enjoying yourself tonight."
It was obvious to Elizabeth that her sister knew nothing about the proposal she had received from the Duke of Hamilton, and she was relieved not to have to discuss the matter. Elizabeth hoped and prayed that Hamilton would not be at Leicester House.
The Gunnings arrived fashionably late. The royal residence was decorated by gilt cupids brandishing bows and arrows in honor of St. Valentine. Elizabeth greeted the Countess of Burlington, who informed her that Charlie was suffering from breeding sickness and would not be there tonight. She entered the ballroom where every chandelier was hung with red hearts to signify the theme of love. She pasted a smile on her face but inside felt only numbness.
Leicester House had always been a bastion for the Tory members of government, and Elizabeth was soon surrounded by young men eager to partner the renowned beauty. She wondered why they were not dancing with Maria instead, then realized that her sister was being partnered by her _fiancé,_ George Coventry. Her thoughts were rather muddled, so she stopped thinking and smiled and danced by rote.
An attentive gentleman escorted her to the supper room, bu
t she could not recall his name. She refused all offers of food with a polite murmur: "Thank you, I'm not hungry." Elizabeth was mildly surprised when her mother placed a glass of wine in her hand.
"Drink up. It will put roses in your cheeks. You are pale as a corpse, Elizabeth."
She sipped the wine dutifully and seemingly did not notice any odd taste, but afterward experienced a numbness about her lips.
Her mother said it was time to leave and that her father had gone to see about the carriage. "What about Maria?" she questioned.
With a coy look Bridget replied, "I have given the Earl of Coventry consent to escort Maria home in his carriage tonight."
Her mother wrapped Elizabeth in her cloak and ushered her from Leicester House, then helped her up into a sleek black carriage. Jack climbed in, pulled the door shut, and the coach set off.
Elizabeth's eyelids felt heavy. She yawned twice, leaned back against the velvet squabs, and closed her eyes. When she opened them and climbed from the coach she was disoriented. They didn't seem to be at home, and none of the buildings looked familiar, yet her parents obviously knew where they were going. She saw a sign that said CHAPEL but clearly the building was not a church.
The door was opened by a woman who said, "Dr. Keith is expecting you. Follow me, please."
Once inside, her father stayed behind, while her mother followed the woman through two small rooms. _Is Mother taking me to a doctor because of my headache_? Then a man in a clerical collar stepped forward. "Welcome to Keith's Wedding Chapel."
Elizabeth blinked. Then she saw him. Hamilton stood at the far end of the room in front of an altar that held lit candles. Suddenly, she came out of her trance. "_No_!" She turned and fled.
Undone - Virginia Henley Page 23