"When she was about six months pregnant with me, she received a letter from Fraser in America. When she realized he was very much alive, she collapsed from shock and suffered some sort of a breakdown. I don’t think Father ever forgave her for preferring another man over him.’’
"It would be a devastating blow to his pride to be thought second best,’’ Georgina said with heartfelt compassion. "So you believe that her childhood sweetheart returned to Scotland and he and Mother became lovers?’’
"Putting two and two together, that’s the explanation I came up with. Louisa has the distinctive Fraser auburn hair and, approximately nine months before she was born, the seventy-first Fraser Highlanders regiment returned from America.’’
Georgina jumped in. "The Fraser ancestral home is in Struy, not too far from her beloved farm in Kinrara, where Mother has always spent her summer months.’’
"Exactly. Though Fraser returned to America years ago.’’
"We are lucky she didn’t run off with him,’’ Georgina said.
"And give up her exalted position as Duchess of Gordon? I think not. When she married Father, she decided that her head would rule her heart, and she’s brought us up to do the same. It’s the wisest choice, Georgy, when all’s said and done.’’
But they are not happy together! Georgina kept a wise silence. Perhaps Charlotte’s head ruled her heart when she wed the future Duke of Richmond. She closed her eyes. I will never do that. I will never marry a man unless I love him with all my heart!
A chorus of "Mama! Mama! Georgy! Georgy!’’ greeted the two sisters when they entered Marylebone Manor. Charlotte’s young children outran their two nursemaids. Lord John and Lord James, four-year-old twins, and three-year-old Lady Sarah wrapped their arms about their mother’s skirt and jumped for joy. Lady Mary, who was five, almost six, threw herself at her favorite aunt and said with a beatific smile, "I didn’t know you were coming!’’
Georgina picked her up and twirled about. "Surprise! Surprise!’’ She absolutely adored children and couldn’t wait until she had her own. She suspected that being a mother was the only part of marriage that she would truly enjoy. A nursemaid came forward carrying a baby girl who was not quite two. Georgina asked Mary, "What’s the baby’s name ... I have forgotten.’’
Mary giggled helplessly. "Her name is Georgina!’’
"Such a strange name ... I can never remember it.’’ Georgina counted the children aloud, "One, two, three, four, five ... someone is missing.’’
"It’s Charles. Papa came home, and they went to the stables.’’
"He likely prefers male company now that he’s almost nine.’’
"This year I’ll be six, and next year I’m going to be seven,’’ Mary said importantly. "Can I try on your hat, Aunt Georgy?’’
"May I try on your hat?’’ Georgina corrected.
"I’m not wearing a hat, silly,’’ Mary said, giggling.
"So you’re not. In that case, have mine.’’ She set Mary’s feet to the carpet, removed her large-brimmed straw with its pretty ruched satin ribbons, and placed it on her niece’s head. "You look absolutely divine, Lady Mary.’’
"Why, thank you, Lady Georgy.’’
"I hate to break up your mutual-admiration society, but I need you to come upstairs and decide which bedchamber you prefer.’’
"We prefer the pink room,’’ Mary said without hesitation.
"Thank you, Mistress Know-all,’’ Charlotte declared.
"Come on.’’ Georgina took hold of Mary’s hand, and they followed Charlotte. The three younger children trailed after them, navigating the stairs on hands and knees. "Be careful you don’t fall,’’ she cautioned over her shoulder.
"If they fall, they’ll pick themselves up. How else are they to learn?’’ Mary said wisely.
"Nobody picked up you and me,’’ Charlotte reminded her sister, "and look how self-sufficient we turned out to be.’’
"We were undisciplined hellions.’’ Georgina chose the pink bedchamber.
Mary gazed up at Georgina with a rapt look of adulation. "Will you teach me to be an undisciplined hellion?’’
"I shall,’’ she solemnly promised. "Your lessons start tomorrow.’’
An hour later, Georgina had finished unpacking, and she joined the children in the nursery for their tea. By this time young Charles had returned from the stables.
"Hallo, Aunt Georgy. Will you play a game with us tonight?’’
"Of course. What shall we play? Hide-and-seek?’’
"No, the babies always hide in plain sight. We’ll play tag.’’
"Ha! You think you can catch me?’’ Georgina challenged.
"I’ll give it a good shot,’’ Charles declared, cramming half a scone into his mouth.
"Oh, well, if you’re going to use a gun, that’s taking unfair advantage.’’
He choked with laughter, and Georgina thumped him on the back.
"I don’t like raspberry jam. It has too many seeds,’’ Mary complained, determined to regain her aunt’s attention.
"Raspberry seeds give you magical power,’’ Georgina said as she spooned jam onto Mary’s scone.
Her eyes went round as saucers. "I need some of that.’’ Mary changed her mind about the jam and proceeded to eat the scone.
Charles wrinkled his nose. "Warm milk is for babies.’’
"I’ll ask your father to send some ale immediately.’’
The young heir laughed so hard, he fell off his chair.
The moment the nursery maid cleared the table, Charles said, "I’ll count to ten to give you a head start.’’
Georgina jumped up, and ran like the wind. The nursery was located on the ground floor, where the late-afternoon sunshine flooded in through the west windows. She raced down the hallway, through the formal dining room, rushed past the library, and on into a large sitting room.
George Finch, Earl of Winchilsea, a great friend of Lennox who was also a cricket enthusiast, stepped from the library to view the runners. He was amazed to see a beautiful young hoyden climb up and over the backs of two sitting room chairs in a mad dash to escape from two squealing children in wild pursuit.
"Don’t mind the racket, George. It’s always bedlam when my young sister-in-law visits.’’
"A tempting sylph I wouldn’t mind pursuing.’’
"A sticky wicket, George. She’s not out yet.’’
The earl cocked a rueful eyebrow. "Forbidden fruit.’’
"She’s not ripe for plucking—as you can see, Lady Georgina still prefers children’s games.’’
"Just my luck.’’ Winchilsea held out his glass for a refill.
That night at dinner the elegant young woman in the tasteful gown presented a very different picture from the madcap creature that had been vaulting over the sitting room furniture.
When she was introduced to the Earl of Winchilsea, her expressive dark green eyes lit up her face. "I am delighted to meet you, George. I shall look forward to a lesson in how to whack a cricket ball tomorrow.’’ Her mother had taught her to pander unscrupulously to the male ago and to treat gentlemen informally, no matter their noble rank. Therein lay the secret to charming the male of the species.
"Lady Georgina, would you really deign to play cricket?’’
"Why not? I play tennis, and when I’m in Scotland I often play golf.’’
The earl was completely captivated by the vivacious beauty and hung on her every word. At the end of the meal, when they had finished eating and Georgina dipped her fingers into her crystal finger bowl, he murmured, "Your sweet touch could turn water to wine. I’m almost tempted to drink it.’’
Georgina murmured back outrageously, "When I wash my feet tonight shall I have the maid save the water for you?’’
Next morning, Georgina awoke to find Mary curled up in bed with her. "How did you get here?’’
"Magic power,’’ Mary said solemnly.
"Ah, from eating raspberry jam, I warrant. What would
you like to do on this warm, sunny day?’’
"Can we go for a ramble through the woods? Just us two?’’
"May we go for a ramble?’’
"Yes, we may!’’ Mary’s face lit with rapture.
Georgina took one of Mary’s chubby feet in her hand and inspected it. "Are you a good rambler?’’
"I can walk miles and miles,’’ she declared.
Georgina took hold of the child’s big toe. "This little piggy went to market.’’ She moved on to the next one. "This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef. But this little piggy had none,’’ she said sadly.
"Aw, poor piggy, eh?’’ Mary said with heartfelt compassion.
Georgina transformed her face from sad to happy. "This little piggy cried wee, wee, wee, all the way home.’’ She dropped the foot and tickled Mary’s tummy.
The child giggled and wriggled, the pillows went flying, and the pair rolled off the bed with laughter.
A maid arrived with a breakfast tray. "There you are, little Miss Mischief. Nanny’s been looking for you.’’
"I’m a big girl,’’ Mary protested.
"Tell Nanny that she’s safe and sound with me. The big girls are spending the morning together.’’
"Very good, my lady.’’ The maid bobbed a curtsy and left.
"I’ll soon be as big as you, Georgy.’’ Mary stood on tiptoe beside her aunt. Since Georgina was on the small side and still had some growing of her own to do, Mary’s head came just below her breasts. "I’ll soon be as tall as your titties.’’
Georgina hid her amusement. "You have a way with words.’’
The big girls soon devoured everything on the breakfast tray.
"Go and get dressed. Choose an old smock that won’t get ruined on our ramble, and don’t forget to put on some shoes.’’
Georgina donned her plainest gown. It was an oyster-colored batiste cotton that looked rather drab. It won’t matter if it gets soiled. I warrant the dirt won’t even show. She drew on her stockings and slipped into her sturdy walking shoes. She brushed her dark curls and left them loose about her shoulders.
The pair of nature lovers set off on their ramble and soon left the gardens of Marylebone Manor behind. They began to climb the wooded slope known as Primrose Hill, and clouds of tiny midges gathered above their heads. Georgina broke off a couple of leafy branches and handed the smaller one to Mary. "Swish it about like a magic wand and the midges will disappear . . . poof!’’
In imitation, Mary wafted her wand. "Poof! Poof!’’ The child laughed with delight. "It really is magic!’’
They crested Primrose Hill and gazed downward. "The lower woods are perfect for deer. We must proceed quietly.’’
A field mouse scurried under some large burdock leaves, and Mary squealed with laughter. The noise alerted a pair of squirrels, and a brown rabbit that had been nibbling a fern bolted away in fright. Mary put her finger to her lips. "Sshh!’’
They stopped and listened. Georgina could hear running water and the voices of shouting boys. They descended the hill and emerged from the woods into a meadow through which ran a wide stream that was a tributary of the Thames. Two boys were standing on the bank holding fishing rods.
"Noisy buggers!’’ Mary muttered.
Georgina knew it was a word her little niece shouldn’t use, but she also knew from personal experience that in a household with a large number of children, swear words were relished.
As they drew closer to the stream, Georgina saw that the boys were almost as tall as she, though she guessed their ages to be only eleven and twelve. Then she saw a much younger boy sitting on the bank, and guessed all three were brothers.
"Any luck?’’
"No. They’re not biting,’’ the eldest told her.
"That’s because it’s too shallow. If you want to catch fish, you should wade out to the middle, where the water runs deeper.’’
"Are you sure?’’ the dark-haired boy with the serious face said.
"Of course I’m sure. When I fish in the River Spey in Scotland, I always wade out. Let me show you.’’
"William, give her your rod,’’ the eldest brother directed.
"Mary, sit down on the bank and watch.’’ Georgina kicked off her shoes, kilted up her skirts, took the rod William handed her, and waded out to where the water came up past her knees.
After only two or three minutes she got a bite, and the fish on the hook began to splash about.
"You got one! You got one!’’ The two boys, filled with excitement, waded out to get a closer look.
Georgina handed the rod back to William so he could have the joy of the catch. The two children who had been sitting on the bank joined them in the water. "My name is Johnny,’’ the little one said shyly.
"Hello, Johnny. You should have taken off your shoes.’’
"I took mine off,’’ Mary said importantly.
Suddenly, a man’s harsh voice rent the air. "Francis! William! What the devil are you about?’’
Georgina whirled, slipped on a stone, and lost her footing, thoroughly wetting herself. Striding toward them was an extremely tall man with a powerful build and jet-black hair, and she could see that he was angry. She had often seen her father lose his temper, but the dark look of fury on this man’s face made him seem far more dangerously threatening than the Duke of Gordon.
The two older boys quickly scrambled from the water, but the young one froze.
"You two devils are supposed to protect John from danger!’’ he thundered. "It’s a damn good thing I came to see what you were up to.’’ His dark, accusing eyes swept over the bedraggled Georgina. "Little girl, have you no more sense than to lure my sons into the middle of the river?’’ he demanded.
"It’s just a stream,’’ she protested.
He removed his shoes, rolled up his trouser legs, then waded out into the water and picked up his son. "John, you’ll be ill again.’’ He towered above Georgina, and his wrath turned his face dark and ominous.
Georgina found the man extremely intimidating. It wasn’t just the fury he displayed that was frightening; it was the deep-suppressed anger in his black eyes that he kept reined in that daunted her. If he ever unleashes his rage, it will be like opening the gates of hell.
"Little girl, go home! And take your sister with you. It’s a wonder you didn’t drown!’’
Georgina was highly offended. Little girl, indeed! He spoke to her as if she were a ragamuffin instead of a duke’s daughter.
"Did you hear me, little girl? Go home!’’
She had to summon all her courage to answer him back. Georgina flung her hair back over her shoulder, raised her chin, and shouted insolently, "Go to the devil . . . old man!’’
He looked as if he wanted to strike her, but she glared back at him defiantly. He carried his son from the water, but Georgina noted the two older ones had fled. She took Mary’s hand, and they waded from the stream. They put their shoes on over their wet stockings and Mary, mimicking Georgina, shouted, "Old Man!’’
Chapter 3
John Russell carried his soaking wet son across Dorset Fields toward the house he had leased for the summer in Dorset Square.
"I’m sorry, Papa,’’ Johnny said contritely.
"It’s all right. It’s your mother who will have a fit. You know she’s not well.’’ He remembered the harsh words he’d said to his wife when she had objected to the boys going out into the fields: Elizabeth, for God’s sake, let the boys be boys. They’re cooped up all year in school. This is their summer holiday. You are being overly fearful to believe they’ll come to any harm.
John entered the house and hoped to get his youngest upstairs before Elizabeth saw him.
"Is Johnny wet?’’ Her voice rose hysterically. "He’ll come down with pneumonia! I told you he shouldn’t go outside.’’
"He will be fine,’’ John reassured her. "Please don’t upset yourself.’’
"You never listen to me. I have these
dark premonitions come over me, and I know something dreadful will happen to Johnny.’’
"Yes, I know all about your dark thoughts, Elizabeth. I’ll take him upstairs and get him into some dry clothes.’’
John Russell’s wife suffered from acute melancholia, which had become more pronounced with the birth of her third child. For almost nine years she’d been deeply depressed and low in spirits. Her husband had tried everything to dispel her gloom and her fearful anxiety, yet nothing rid her mind of its dark shadows.
John took his son into his bedchamber, and a maidservant came forward to help. He waved her away, closed the door, and removed the boy’s wet clothes. He took dry garments from the bureau and handed them to his son so that he could dress himself. "You won’t get pneumonia, John. Your mother can’t help her fears.’’
"I wish she could be happy,’’ he said wistfully.
"Yes, but you mustn’t let her fears stop you from being happy.’’
Johnny looked up from buttoning his shirt. "Wading in the river made me happy,’’ he murmured.
A bark of laughter escaped from John. "I’m glad—but don’t go in the water again unless I’m with you.’’
His two older sons pushed open the door and came into the room. They had already changed into dry clothes. Francis said, "We came in the back way and crept upstairs so she wouldn’t see us and become upset.’’
Anger rose up in John that his sons had to creep about quietly, and it took him a minute to control it. I should have left her at home in Devon.
Their sons attended prestigious Westminster School and when they finished for the summer, John brought Elizabeth to London to be with the boys and to also see a physician. They had gone to his family’s ancestral town house in Russell Square, but Elizabeth had become agitated with the London noise and fearful of the traffic. On the doctor’s advice, John had leased a house in the more rural outskirts of the city, in the hope that the bucolic setting would calm her nerves.
The doctor had told him privately that his wife looked consumptive and would benefit from fresh air and country walks. Though John was highly skeptical about consumption, he knew that languishing on a couch in a darkened chamber would only foster his wife’s ill health. Elizabeth had given up riding years ago, and now she even refused to walk outdoors. She enjoys being an invalid, sunk in sepulchral gloom. I should have left her in Devonshire.
The Decadent Duke Page 3