The Duke's Reform

by Fenella J Miller

  His eyes darkened and he trapped her face between his hands. 'It would take more than a few keys to keep me out of your bed tonight, my darling.'

  She swayed closer and his mouth hovered tantalisingly. Why didn't he kiss her? Then she was crushed against him, his lips burned hers and she was lost to the world, to sense and decorum. His arousal pressed against her stomach. She no longer cared if she conceived. She wanted to feel him inside her, wanted to be part of his body, not know where she ended and he began.

  ****

  With a groan he pushed himself away. He had waited for this moment, but his study was not the place and mid-afternoon was certainly not the time. 'Darling, not here. When we make love I want it to be without fear of interruption or embarrassment. I'm as eager as you, but one of us must be strong.'

  Her eyes were glazed, her lips swollen from his kisses. He almost lost control. She was so beautiful, so damned desirable. To think his own crass stupidity had almost cost him his marriage and his happiness. He would kill anyone who harmed her or his daughter.

  'Shall we go and see our baby? She's adjusted well to being fed by the nurse, is thriving and you won't believe how much she's changed whilst you've been gone.'

  Hand in hand they strolled through the house and upstairs to the nursery. 'Isobel, I think I would have suggested you moved my things from your apartment anyway whilst our guests are here. Our private life isn't open for discussion; such unusual sleeping arrangements would have given rise to further gossip.'

  She giggled. 'But at least everyone would know the rumours circulating were untrue. Do you know the butler has put all the single gentlemen as far away as possible from the young ladies. I wonder if you'll meet any of them when you're creeping down the corridor tonight.'

  ****

  Petunia was suitably contrite over her misinformation. To explain the true circumstances was not possible as such revelations would be unsuitable until her cousin was also married.

  'When do your parents arrive, Isobel?'

  'Tomorrow, as do four other families that Alexander invited. Finally I'm to meet his oldest friends. After this house party I doubt that I shall be lonely or lack company ever again.'

  'From the way the duke follows you with his eyes whenever you're in the room I doubt you'll have need of anyone else.'

  Isobel blushed. 'We have resolved all our differences, I didn't know such happiness existed. There's nothing can come between us now.'

  The arrival of Mr Bentley was observed from the drawing-room window by Petunia. 'Isobel, one of the duke's carriages has arrived and the most extraordinary young gentleman has stepped down from it.'

  'Indeed he has; I'd hoped Mr Bentley might have adopted a more conventional mode of dressing by now.'

  Giggling, her cousin stepped away from the window in case she was seen. 'I've seen one or two gentlemen dressed as he is, but have never had the pleasure of being introduced.'

  'I have to warn you, Pet, he is as silly as he looks. Alexander and I pray we eventually produce a boy; I shudder to think what harm he would do to the Rochester estates if he were ever to take control.'

  Her cousin pulled a face. 'Don't say such things— your husband is yet a young man. To talk of his demise is most depressing, and today of all days.'

  Alexander dashed into the room and laughed at their astonishment. 'He's here; I thought I'd seek your company. I must speak to him, but I can't bear to do it alone.'

  Bill solemnly announced their visitor. The butler's lips were trembling, he was finding it difficult to remain straight-faced. Mr Bentley bowed extravagantly and Isobel was sure she heard the creak of corsets. She stared at him more closely; the young man had certainly gained weight since she’d last seen him, in fact he was decidedly stout.

  'Your grace, I am most delighted to be here to celebrate the arrival of Lady Lucinda. Might I enquire if my accommodation is ready for occupation?'

  'Unfortunately the workmen have been involved with other things these past few days which has delayed matters somewhat. However you'll be safely installed next door within a week.' Alexander didn't bow, merely nodded. Isobel followed his lead and did the same, however Petunia curtsied.

  'Allow me to introduce Miss Petunia Illingworth, my cousin. Miss Illingworth, might

  I introduce you to Mr Richard Bentley, a cousin of my husband's.'

  A deal of simpering and banalities followed as if for some reason her cousin found Mr Bentley amusing. Alexander took her hand and silently they tiptoed out leaving the two together.

  'I can't understand why my cousin should wish to make his acquaintance, perhaps she's taken pity on him.'

  'I think it far more likely, Isobel my darling, that she's doing it to allow us to escape. Your parents will be arriving this afternoon. It will be a pleasure to have Newcomb filled with the sound of children's laughter. I'm eagerly anticipating the garden party tomorrow. The weather is set fair, it should be a memorable occasion.'

  She shook her head in mock severity. 'Are you not forgetting something, my love? Tomorrow morning our daughter is to be baptised— I rather think that's the event to which you should be looking forward.'

  In answer he swept up in his arms and twirled her around causing two footmen carrying a trunk to stumble. 'Put me down, Alexander, those poor men are quite upset by your display.'

  He let her slide down his body, holding her still when her breasts were touching his waistcoat. A wave of heat enveloped her; she forgot she was surrounded by interested spectators and tilted her face to receive his kiss.

  Someone cleared their throat noisily and her cheeks suffused with colour, this time from embarrassment not passion. 'Alexander, this is disgraceful, you must behave yourself whilst we have visitors.'

  'I daren't let you go,' he whispered, 'my desire is all too evident.'

  She could feel it pressing into her stomach. She had no idea who was waiting to speak to them; if it was Aunt Lucy or Uncle Ben she would never be able to look them in the face again without discomfort.

  'Turn me round; if I remain in front of you and you keep your arms in place I believe we shan't cause an upset.'

  He did as she suggested. She found herself face-to-face, not with her uncle or aunt, but with her parents. Alexander recovered his composure first.

  'Welcome, my lord, my lady. You must forgive us, I've been in Town for an unconscionable time and as you have no doubt observed we are delighted to be reunited.'

  Her father frowned; he was obviously not impressed by their display. For a second she was worried about offending him and then she remembered she was a duchess, this was her home and here she could do and she pleased.

  'Papa, Mama, we did not expect you until later today. Are the children not with you?' If they thought it a breach of etiquette for her to remain within her husband's embrace they would be even more scandalised if she moved away.

  'Nanny is following in the old coach; we travelled in our new carriage which is why we are here earlier than expected.'

  They could not remain as they were for much longer. She must greet her parents. Alexander gently pushed her forward. Thank God, the situation was becoming ridiculous. Isobel curtsied. 'You must come and see your grandchild. I can promise you she's the most beautiful baby in England.'

  Alexander spoke from behind her. 'I have estate business to attend to so I shall leave you in the capable hands of my wife. I look forward to renewing our acquaintance at dinner this evening.'

  She glanced over her shoulder and he winked at her, he was still holding his coat-tails across his front. Stifling a giggle she turned back to escort her parents to the nursery where Lucinda was much admired. She then led them to their apartments and left them exclaiming happily over the luxurious appointments, the basket of fruit and the spectacular arrangements of flowers she'd had placed in their private sitting room.

  Not long after she'd returned to her own chamber her cousin came in to speak to her. 'It's as I thought, Isobel. Bentley spread the rumour about you an
d your husband. As soon as I saw him I knew he was the gentleman who had been described to me as having told Mariah Sanderson's brother about it.'

  'So that's why you were talking to him, both Alexander and I wondered at your sudden interest in such a nincompoop.'

  'You know why he spread the rumour, don't you?'

  'It could only have been because he wished Alexander and I to become estranged and not produce another child and disinherit him.' She could hardly credit the silly young man could be so devious.

  'Do you know, Isobel, I had the distinct feeling Bentley was ashamed of what he'd done. He might be a popinjay, but I can't believe he's malicious. I think it might be the company he's keeping. That vile creature, Farnham, is one of his cronies.'

  'Good grief! I must tell Alexander. Bentley must be removed from the influence of that man. Pray excuse me, Pet, this information cannot wait.'

  She discovered her husband in his study, feet on the desk and a tray with coffee beside him. He was reading the paper and quite obviously hiding from his guests. He jumped to his feet at her entrance.

  'Alexander, I know how the rumours spread.'

  'Sit down, darling, and catch your breath.' He took her hand and led her to the armchair. He waited until she was settled before swinging a straight-backed chair around and straddling it. 'Now, tell me what you know.'

  'Bentley was the perpetrator, but Sir John Farnham is behind it. Your cousin has become embroiled with that horrible man.'

  'God's teeth! Farnham could have been the instigator of the attacks on Bentley. I should have forced that young idiot to tell me truth. I paid his gambling debts—but I fear, if Farnham is involved, that he owes far more.'

  'What is it? Alexander—what are you not telling me?'

  'I blame myself for having invited Farnham here. If I'd been in my senses I would have known of the man's reputation and steered well clear of him.'

  'You are scaring me now, Alexander—'

  He stretched forward and clasped her hands. His strength reassured her. 'Nothing has ever been proved, but blackmail and extortion are the least of the crimes I've heard him accused of.'

  'Thank goodness your cousin will be residing here for the rest of the summer. He should be safe from that evil man's machinations at Newcomb.' She returned the pressure of his fingers. 'Do you intend to speak to Bentley?'

  'Of course. Believe me, sweetheart, by the time I finished with him he will regret his gossip mongering.'

  'Don't be too hard on him, my love. He’s vain and foolish, but not a truly bad person.'

  *

  The next few days she was so busy with guests and parties, and at night had more pleasurable things to occupy her mind, that she quite forgot to be cross with Bentley. He was so subdued after his dressing down she almost felt sorry for him. Several days after the ball their last visitors had departed, and Bentley removed himself to the east wing.

  'Sweetheart, I must go to Town to sign the agreement for the yacht. Is there anything you wish me to purchase for you whilst I'm there?'

  'Nothing, I've everything I need as long as you're here beside me. Don't delay too long in Grosvenor Square for I shall be lonely without you.'

  His eyes darkened and his lips covered hers in a hard, demanding kiss. 'You’re insatiable, my darling. I pray this strange system we've adopted proves adequate. I can't keep away from you regardless of the consequences.'

  She stroked his face, loving the feel of bristles beneath her fingertips. 'I am resigned to having a big family. I can't believe something as simple as a vinegar soaked sponge can prevent conception.'

  'I've instructed Bentley to remain next door and not bother you. I trust he does as he's bid.' Alexander was not so ready to forgive and forget as she was.

  ****

  Alexander discovered to his fury the papers would not be ready for a further day. He was now obliged to kick his heels in Grosvenor Square when he would much rather be back at Newcomb. He decided to visit his club and walked round to the stable yard. Nowadays he preferred to do things for himself and not be waited on hand and foot.

  On entering White's, a close friend, Sir Richard Taylor, beckoned him over. ‘Rochester, good to see you. Must say I enjoyed your hospitality. Your wife is quite delightful.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Alexander glanced round the room— was he imagining the covert looks? ‘Am I missing something, Taylor? What’s going on?’

  ‘No idea, why don’t you go and ask them?’

  Alexander strode across and glared at the nearest gentleman. ‘Well? Out with it?’

  The man blanched and he stepped away before answering. ‘Your grace, Smithson here was

  just telling us some news about Farnham. And it concerns your family.’

  ‘What? For God’s sake man—tell me.’

  ‘Farnham was bragging last night that he’d got your cousin, young Bentley, in his pocket. That when Bentley comes into the title half your fortune will go to him.’

  Alexander’s fist unclenched. This was not news to him. He nodded at the men. ‘Both Bentley and Farnham will be disappointed. I can assure you, I shall have a son of my own before too long.’

  The circle of men relaxed. ‘Glad to hear you say so, Rochester. Still, if I were you I’d have stern word with Farnham. Can’t have this sort of rumour bandied about the place.’

  ‘Thank you, Smithson, I have every intention of doing so.’

  He left the club and headed for one of the less salubrious haunts he’d once drunk in. There would be someone here who knew the whereabouts of his quarry. He shouldered his way through the press of inebriated riff-raff. One could hardly refer to these as ‘gentlemen’.

  He spotted a friend of Farnham’s and barged across to the man. ‘Where’s Farnham?’

  The man stared glassy eyed, not recognising his questioner. ‘Gone to Newcomb. Got a bit of unfinished business to do down there.’ The man half slid from his stool. ‘He’s meeting someone who owes him.’ Perspiration beaded Alexander’s brow. His heart raced and his hands were clammy. Somehow he groped through the crowd of stinking drinkers and emerged, shaking, onto the cobbles.

  Everything fell into place. He swallowed hard as bile rose in his throat. The grease on the stairs that had killed poor Sally had been meant for Isobel. The soldiers shooting had not been a random event, but a deliberate attempt to kill his wife. My God! He'd left her at Newcomb with no protection and a madman intent on murder heading for the house and his accomplice living next door.

  He ran back to Grosvenor Square ignoring the shocked faces of those he elbowed aside. He erupted into the yard and yelled for a groom.

  'Saddle my horse. I must leave for Newcomb immediately.'

  Moments later he thundered out through the arch onto the cobbled street scattering an unwary flock of pigeons from his pathway. Several heads turned to gape at him as he ruthlessly guided his mount through the diligences, carriages and hackneys with scant regard for his, or anyone else's, safety. Eventually he was in open country. He crouched forward urging Rufus ever faster, praying he would be in time to save the woman who was his life.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  'Ellie, I don't think I shall have sufficient closet space to take all those gowns. From what the duke has told me, living on a yacht is rather cramped.'

  'Your grace, we shall need morning, promenade and afternoon gowns as well as evening gowns. We are going to be away for six weeks— with only the few garments you've selected you'll be seen several times in the same ensemble.'

  Isobel smiled at the horrified expression on her abigail's face. 'As there will only be ourselves aboard I can't see it matters. When we go ashore it will be in different ports each time, so even then it will be no problem.'

  Her maid nodded. 'I had not thought of that, my lady. Shall I be able to launder items as we go along? Will there be fresh water available?'

  'I should think so. I must go and oversee the packing for Lady Lucinda; Nanny must be warned not to take too much.'
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br />   Alexander's belongings were being attended to by Duncan as his valet had remained behind this time. There was so much to think about. Although the yacht was well appointed and a considerable length, the cabins would be small and storage space restricted. They would be taking Duncan, Ellie, Nanny and the wet nurse, but the remainder of the staff at Newcomb were to have two weeks holiday in order to visit family wherever they might be.

  Bill and Mary were arranging for those that wished to avail themselves of this treat to leave in rotation. The others were to begin redecorating and cleaning the building from top to toe. It was rather late for a spring clean, but much of the building had not been touched for many years.

  Tonight was the last night before leaving for their holiday. Alexander was returning first thing

  in the morning and they would set out directly he arrived. The yacht was moored at Dover, in Kent, and in order to complete this journey they would have to stop overnight.

  She was so excited she could not possibly sleep. Tonight was a perfect evening, the oppressive heat of the past few days replaced by a gentle cooling breeze. Her clock struck midnight. She had better get to bed or she would be too fatigued to enjoy the adventure on the morrow.

  Ellie had been instructed to call her early. Alexander had advised her to wash her hair and take a bath as the facilities aboard would be basic. The shutters and windows were open; she strolled across and leant on the window-sill to hear the owls calling and the other creatures about their nocturnal business.

  She was just drifting off to sleep when something woke her. The dogs were barking. This was most unusual, something must have disturbed them. The hair on the back of her neck rose. The last time they had barked had been the night before Sally’s death, as if they had sensed the forthcoming tragedy. Perhaps one of the yard cats had ventured in through an open window and they were expressing their disgust at such an intrusion.

  The racket continued. Was she the only one who could hear the noise? Having her windows open meant sound was carrying from downstairs in a way that it would not normally do. Othello and Ebony slept directly below her in a little used withdrawing-room. With a sigh she scrambled out of bed, quickly putting on what was necessary.