'Alexander, you take the seat nearest the fire. You don't look too well; I am most concerned for your well-being.'
'Don't fuss, Isobel. It is I that should be looking after you. God willing, you're carrying the next Duke of Rochester. Heaven forfend that numbskull should take the title after my demise.'
There was little she could add to that heartfelt comment. There was something she didn't quite like about Bentley and it wasn't just his ridiculous appearance and flowery manners. She shook her head at her fancies, Mary had told her to beware of false emotions. It would seem such wild imaginings were quite common when a woman was increasing.
The meal was eaten in silence— she too concerned about his appearance to make chitchat and he too busy eating enough for three men. When he finally pushed away his plate she laughed. 'I shall stop worrying about you, Alexander. If you were truly ill you could not have eaten so much.'
He smiled that special smile and her insides melted. 'I shall be perfectly fine tomorrow morning after a good night's sleep. However, I fear I shan't be able to depart until it is more clement.'
'Of course you must not. If you have finally finished, there are several things I wish to discuss with you. Can you manage, or shall I send for someone for you to lean on?'
'I am quite well, but my leg hurts like the very devil and I can barely keep my eyes open. Could our conversation keep until tomorrow, my dear?'
Carefully he pushed himself upright. His knuckles were white where he gripped the table. He was not nearly as well as he pretended. 'Remain where you are, Alexander I shall send for assistance. No, don't scowl at me. You’ll never ascend the stairs under your own volition. Do you wish to add a cracked head to your injuries?' She spoke to him as if he were a child. How things had changed— had he not addressed her in such a way last year?
Bill and two hefty footmen appeared so rapidly to answer her summons she guessed they had been expecting to be called. 'His grace will require your assistance to return to his bed chamber.'
This time Alexander did not argue but slung his arms around the shoulders of the two young men and hobbled out. She was most concerned to see he could put no weight on his injured leg. As soon as he was comfortable she would go up and see to him herself. There could be no disagreement about her being in his bed chamber; after all she was still his wife and who else had more right to be there than she?
Chapter Twelve
Isobel left Alexander in the capable hands of George, his temporary valet. Secure in the knowledge there was nothing further she could do for him. He was sleeping peacefully and she returned to her bed chamber where Sally was waiting to help her disrobe.
She was woken later by someone beside her. 'Mary, is he worse?'
'Yes, my lady, he is. George came to fetch me, Sam said as I was to get you. The duke is burning up and there's no way we can fetch a doctor. A foot of snow has fallen this past hour, no one will get in or out of Newcomb for a day or two.'
'You did right to rouse me. Fetch Bill, he will know what to do.'
It was the work of moments to pull on her bed robe and ram her bare feet into slippers. Then with candle stick held aloft she hurried through the icy passageway to the guest chamber at the rear of the house. She entered through the private sitting room. She pushed open the door and reeled back.
'Good grief! This room is like a furnace, small wonder his grace is overheated.'
George looked mystified. 'I made the fire up a treat, my lady, I thought that was right.'
'Not in my experience, it tends to make the fever worsen. Quickly, open all the windows and I shall do something about the flames.' There was a half-filled jug of water on the wash stand in the dressing room and she threw it over the fire. Immediately the room was full of hissing coals and choking steam, but the fire was more or less out.
Mary rushed in followed by Bill, who coughed and looked round in astonishment but he nodded at Isobel. 'Exactly what I would have done, my lady. Bring down the fever as quick as possible, I've seen men dropped in icy water—but that's kill or cure.'
'I hope my drastic measures won't prove fatal. Mary, we shall need fresh water to wash him down and a jug of barley water or lemonade.'
The room had cleared and a howling gale was whistling through, the curtains were almost horizontal and flurries of snow spiralled across the boards. 'George, I think you can close the windows now, the temperature has dropped sufficiently.'
She was decidedly chilly in her night apparel. The fire was a sullen glow in the grate; they could do with slightly more heat but it refused to burn any brighter. The water she had thrown on it earlier still puddled on the hearth.
'His grace will do very well, now, my lady. He's sleeping peacefully, the flush on his cheeks all but gone. I can take care of him if you would like me to.'
'I intend to stay, I'm wide awake now. All of you, return to your beds, I shall ring if I require any further assistance.'
Mary was the only one who seemed pleased by this suggestion. When Isobel was alone she looked around for somewhere warm to curl up. Alexander was cool to the touch so perhaps it would be safe to leave him. She shivered and stared crossly at the fire which refused to burn with any heat.
The bed was the only place in the chamber that would provide her with any warmth. If she crept in the far side, making sure she was on top of the sheets and not inside them, he would not even know she was there. Kicking off her slippers she slipped under the covers and was soon drifting off to sleep.
A short while later she woke. Botheration! She must get out again and use the chamber pot behind the screen. Comfortable once more she scrambled back into bed, this time removing her bed robe for she had all but suffocated with that on. She settled into a deep sleep and her dreams were filled with images of the man she had once loved.
His arms were round her, his heat burning through the thin cloth of her nightdress. Then his lips found hers and she drowned in the sweet sensation. The dream was so vivid it was almost real. The heat curled through her sending wave after wave of delicious pleasure from her toes to the top of her head.
She moved restlessly and his kiss deepened. His lips drifted down until they reached her breast. It hardened and her nipple peaked beneath his tongue. It had been so long — but her body remembered what to do. The touch of his hand on her belly sent shock waves to the very centre of her being, then his fingers slipped downwards between her thighs to stoke her secret place.
Gently he rolled her over until she was resting on her side. His arousal pressed hard into her buttocks. Her eyes flew open. This was no dream—this was reality. She must stop him. Too late. He lifted her and was inside. She forgot everything as she was swept away with every thrust until her world exploded into ecstasy.
She lay exhausted in his arms too shocked by what had taken place to move or speak. The discomfort of her night gown which was bundled up around her waist eventually roused her. The events of the last night she had been with him flooded her mind. For a second time he had taken advantage of her, made love to her when he knew she did not wish him to.
'Darling, I can't tell you how happy I am that you came to me tonight. I never thought to be able to love you again. I …'
'Let me go. I did not come to you for this. I am here because you were delirious earlier.'
His arms tightened and he pulled her closer ignoring her words. She struggled more furiously and screamed to be released. Only then did his grip slacken and she scrambled out of bed. She couldn’t see his face in the near blackness, but she had no doubt he was leaning back on the pillows certain he had re-established his ascendancy.
'I hate you, Alexander. You’re despicable, you know how I feel about you and yet you took shameful advantage.'
'You were in bed beside me and you responded to my kisses. This was hardly the action of a woman who does not wish to make love.' His words were clipped as if he was angry.
'I was asleep, I thought I was dreaming and when I woke, I was too late to stop you.
The only reason I was beside you in bed was to keep warm. The fire is out, in case you haven't noticed.'
'But, my dear, the fact you were dreaming about making love to me should tell you all you need to know. There's no point denying it, Isobel, you want me as much as I want you.'
This was the outside of enough. Her anger burned as hot as her earlier desire. ‘I’ve lived more happily these past few months away from you than at any time when you were here. Unlike you I had no recourse to slake my physical needs with a lover. You promised me you would never be unfaithful, that you would take care of me and make me happy. You have broken every one of those vows.'
Too distressed to remain in the same chamber as him she fled back to her own apartment and sobbed herself to sleep.
****
Alexander cursed his stupidity. He had been half asleep himself when his bare thigh had touched hers. Unable to believe what his senses were telling him he had reached out and found his darling girl curled up beside him. He hadn't stopped to think— had just reacted. When Isobel was in his arms rational thought was impossible. His hand came away from his leg bright red. Making love had reopened the wound. This was a job for the physician now, he would need fresh sutures to staunch the blood.
Keeping one hand firmly pressed on the gash he stretched out and rang the brass bell praying that someone was within earshot. He couldn't remove his hand in order to get out of bed and pull the bell-strap. He was beginning to despair when the butler rushed into the room.
'My leg— it's bleeding profusely. You need to send for the doctor to stitch it again.'
'That's not possible, my lord, the snow's too deep. Here, let me bandage the injury, it should hold until I can fetch what I need.'
In the feeble light of a single candlestick his leg was dressed efficiently. The bed was ruined, it looked as if someone had been murdered within the sheets. He felt lightheaded and not at all well. From a distance he heard voices, then firm arms propped him up in the bed and someone tipped cool lemonade into his mouth which immediately revived him.
'I'm going put extra stitches in the wound, my lord. It might hurt, but I reckon to give you brandy or laudanum would do more harm than good after the bout of fever you had.'
'Get on with it, man, then I can remove myself from this bloodbath.' Several extremely painful minutes later the job was done. 'Can I get up now? I'll sit in the chair whilst the bed is changed.'
'Allow me to assist you, your grace. Then Mrs Watkins can set things straight.'
Only then did he remember what had taken place between those sheets. Would the evidence of their lovemaking be visible? Too late to worry, he was married to Isobel after all and making love was perfectly natural between a man and wife.
His cheeks stained. The housekeeper was Isobel's confidante and she knew how things stood between them. Would she believe he had forced himself upon her for the second time? He slumped into the chair, despair overwhelming him. How was he going to convince Isobel he had believed her to be in his bed willingly? It might be a week or more before the roads were clear enough him to leave. Would this be sufficient to repair the damage?
****
The rattle of the curtains being drawn back woke Isobel the next morning. Her head ached, her throat was dry and she had no wish for breakfast. Sally had placed the tray with tea and buttered toast on the bedside table.
'It's fair freezing outside, my lady, and more snow falling. I doubt anyone will get in or out of here for a week at least.'
'I think I shall stay in my apartments today, Sally. I did not have much sleep last night and
shall remain in bed this morning.'
'Very well, ma'am. There was a right to do last night, I can tell you. His grace needed Mr Brown to stitch up his leg again for he lost a deal of blood but George says as he's fine now.'
'I'm glad to hear it. Ask Mrs Watkins to come and see me, please, Sally.'
The girl left the tray and vanished through the dressing room, her footsteps clearly audible as the servants’ passageway ran alongside the bed chamber. Isobel toyed with the toast but drank the tea. A polite tap on the door heralded Mary's arrival.
'Good morning, my lady. I think you've made a wise choice to remain here today, it's far warmer upstairs than down.'
'Mary, tell me what happened? I left the duke because he was sleeping peacefully, his fever quite gone. There seemed little point in me shivering in a chair when he no longer required my vigilance.'
'It would seem the injury was worse than either of us knew. Bill said he had to probe into the wound in order to remove a large sliver of wood that had embedded itself there. He must have nicked a vein, what with all that tossing and turning with his fever. I reckon that caused the bleeding.'
'But the duke's in no danger?'
Mary beamed. 'Bless you, my dear, he's sleeping like a baby. I doubt we'll keep that one in his bed today.'
'You had better find him a cane to lean on if he insists on leaving his chamber. Has someone taken the dogs out for me?' Her erstwhile abigail looked uncomfortable. This was the first time since they'd returned Mary had forgotten to address her correctly. 'I regret we don't spend much time together, Mary. You're my dearest friend and I insist in future you come and take tea with me every afternoon as long as your duties allow it.'
The smile returned. 'Thank you, my lady. Perhaps I could come along later and show you what I've made for the little one?'
This arrangement was more than acceptable and Isobel's spirits rose and her appetite revived. When there was a second rap on the door of her bed chamber she looked up with a smile but this faltered when she saw Alexander standing there.
'You should not be out of bed; you were at death's door yesterday.' She could hardly tell him to go away even though that was what she wished to do. Sally was in the dressing room sorting out the mending and could hear everything that took place between them.
'Isobel, we have to talk. No, don't frown at me, my love, there are things that must be said to clear the air between us.'
She gestured towards the dressing room and he nodded. Before she could prevent him he limped across and told the unfortunate girl to take herself elsewhere and not return until she was called for. His highhanded behaviour steadied her nerves. Her annoyance made her ready to face him.
She pushed herself straight, then ran her fingers through her hair and pursed her lips waiting to him to return. 'You may sit on the chair by the fire, Alexander. I would prefer it if you did not come any closer.'
With an amiable smile he did as she bid and was soon comfortably ensconced. 'There's no point in my apologising again, for whatever I say you'll think the worst of me. Therefore I don't intend to do so. I shall be marooned here with you for a week at least. Do you intend to skulk in here until I go?'
'Don't be ridiculous. In case you haven't noticed I'm increasing, what took place last night has debilitated me.' She glared at him and something prompted her to continue in the same vein. 'If I lose this child, it will be your doing, and you can be very sure there will never be another legitimate heir whilst I'm alive.'
His face drained of colour and his eyes widened. 'God's teeth! Is there a likelihood that you'll miscarry? I don't care what the weather's like; I shall fetch the physician myself even if I've to dig my way out.'
She wished the words unsaid; she had wanted to hurt him, to make sure he didn't attempt to make love to her again but not to send him out into the snow to meet his death. ‘I shall remain in bed, there was no more than a twinge. I'm sure with rest nothing untoward will happen to this child.'
His expression stabbed her heart. He looked so relieved, so abjectly miserable, she was driven to broach the subject she'd intended to talk to him about last night. 'Alexander, your Mr Bentley believes that my home is intended for him when he comes to live with you. As I always meant to move back into Newcomb when my time comes, I think it might be prudent for me to return in May, before you get back. However … '
Something flash
ed across his face. Could it have been triumph? 'I shall be eternally grateful, my dear, if you do so. The thought of being obliged to share my home this summer with that ninny quite appalls me. At least in there we shan't be seeing him every time we turn the corner.'
'Alexander, you did not allow me to finish. I shall only return if I can have my own staff around me. I've no wish to be waited on by those presently in London.'
He nodded thoughtfully. 'I can dismiss anyone who has offended you.'
'Good grief, there's no need to do that. Most have been with you this age, they believe they are doing their duty by keeping me from damaging your reputation. As long as I've your word the people I've gathered here won't be under the jurisdiction of your butler or house-keeper, I shall be happy.'
'You have it, Isobel. Why don't you select those you would rather not have at Newcomb and they can serve Bentley?'
'Thank you, that's an excellent notion. I suppose we must set up the nursery in readiness for the arrival.'
'Leave all that to me. As you don't intend to be here to watch your child grow up I believe it's my prerogative to select who will do the job for you.'
She quailed under his frosty stare. 'Of course, Alexander, no doubt you have an old retainer lurking in a cottage somewhere who can be recalled.'
Talking about the baby was distressing. She wanted him to go, but suddenly he was sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. 'Don't cry, sweetheart, things will work out for the best one way or the other. I'm sorry I was so brusque, but the thought of you not being here to see our baby is as upsetting to me as it is to you.'
His thumb caught the tear trickling down her cheek and rubbed it away. She turned her head, when he was being like this she could feel her anger melting, could almost believe they might have a life together after all.
Chapter Thirteen
The Duke's Reform Page 12