The Disgraceful Duke

by Barbara Cartland

  “But he said he would never speak to Mama again after she ran away with Papa. She told me so.”

  “Hot words are often spoken in anger,” Nanna answered, “and unless her Ladyship has changed a great deal in the years, she always loved her daughter and she’ll love you.”

  “If they did not wish to know Mama, then they will have no wish to know me.”

  “They may not even know of your existence, and when they do, I’m as certain as I stand here that they will welcome a grandchild.”

  “It is no use talking about it, Nanna! I am not crawling to them on my knees!”

  “I’m goin’ to get in touch with them,” Nanna said, “and nothin’ you can do or say’ll stop me. I know it’s the right thing. Anythin’ would be better than being mixed up with that evil man and his goings on.”

  “What has the Duke done that has upset you so much?” Shimona asked.

  “I’ve been hearin’ bad things about him for years,” Nanna answered. “I’ve heard your father denouncin’ him over and over again and he and your mother told me of the way he behaved to that poor Miss Minnie Graham.”

  “That was a girl who was acting with Papa,” Shimona said almost beneath her breath.

  “Pretty little thing she was, but she was led astray like so many others and then there was no savin’ her.”

  “What happened to – her?” Shimona asked in a low voice.

  “When the Duke was tired of her, she found another gentleman to expend his money on her,” Nanna answered scornfully. “Playin’ the lead, she was, at Birmingham when your father last spoke of her.”

  She gave a kind of snort, which was a regular sound of hers when she was disgusted.

  “The wages of sin are not always death in this evil world,” she remarked tartly.

  “Whatever the Duke has done or not done in the past,” Shimona said, “I have to go with him tomorrow. I cannot let him down and I cannot ruin Mr. McCraig’s life or upset his great-uncle.”

  “You’ve no call to be getting’ into such a tangle, Miss Shimona,” Nanna cried angrily. “Never have I heard of such a mess and what your dear mother would say I don’t know!”

  “I have to go, Nanna.”

  “I’ll speak to His Grace when he returns,” Nanna said grimly and that was all Shimona could get out of her.

  But the Duke had his way.

  Nanna asked him into the dining room and they were in there a long time while Shimona waited in the sitting room feeling apprehensive of the outcome.

  What would the Duke think of being talked to severely by a servant?

  If he was offended by it, he might walk out of the house without saying goodbye to her.

  She felt that she was being torn in pieces by the conflict that was taking place.

  She could understand only too well what Nanna felt and she knew that the condemnation in her voice was exactly the same as there had been in her father’s when he spoke of the Duke.

  But how could she make anyone understand how differently he had behaved to her?

  How there existed something between them that seemed to contradict his reputation and the scathing manner in which people denounced him.

  Then she told herself that perhaps she was being deceived.

  What did she know about men – or any man – and especially anyone who was as important as the Duke?

  Was there perhaps one law for the aristocrats and one for ordinary people? And had her father been more censorious than someone else might have been simply because of his upbringing?

  It was so difficult for her to know the truth, so difficult to be fair. She had to admit that the Duke must have behaved disgracefully in some ways, otherwise his reputation would not have reached the ears of her mother and father.

  But whatever he had done, Shimona felt that she was in honour bound to finish what the Duke had called their ‘charade’ in which she had taken a part to help Alister McCraig.

  If he was exposed now, if his great-uncle realised that he was married to the sort of actress that he had supposed, then everything would be much worse than if he had told the truth from the very beginning.

  ‘I am committed! I must help him!’ Shimona told herself and wondered how much longer the Duke and Nanna would be in the dining room.

  At last the door of the sitting room opened and he came in.

  Shimona realised that he did not close the door behind him and that Nanna was waiting in the hall.

  “Everything is arranged,” he said, “and there is only one change in our plans.”

  “What is that?” Shimona asked nervously.

  “As I do not exactly see eye to eye with the Earl of Glencairn, I have sent a groom to Leicester to ask The McCraig if he will honour me by being my guest at my own house. It is not far from where he is staying, not more than five miles, and I think it would be more comfortable for all of us if there were no strangers present.”

  “I can understand that,” Shimona said, remembering that she must pretend to be Alister’s wife.

  “Then everything is arranged,” the Duke said, “and I will call for you at nine o’clock, if you can be ready.”

  “I will be ready,” Shimona promised, her eyes alight with relief because Nanna had not been able to prevent her from going with the Duke.

  There had been no chance of a private conversation between them and only now when they were alone in the phaeton did she ask,

  “You are not – angry?”

  “Angry?” he enquired. “Why should you expect me to be?”

  “I thought perhaps Nanna was rude to you yesterday and you might be – incensed about it.”

  The Duke smiled.

  “She was not rude,” he answered. “She was only very firm, as nurses always are. I rather felt that I was back in the nursery and being punished for some extremely reprehensible misdemeanour.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Shimona said in a low voice.

  “It was what I deserved,” the Duke said, “and you should not have taken part in what your nurse described as ‘disgraceful goings on’.”

  “Nanna was very shocked. She has never allowed me to be.”

  “And quite rightly so.”

  He was keeping something back from her, Shimona thought, and she looked at him a little apprehensively.

  She felt as if some barrier had been erected between them, but she was not certain what it was and anyway it was impossible to put her feelings into words.

  The Duke was charming, polite and somehow reserved, but, when they had luncheon together in a private parlour at the coaching inn, he looked at her with an expression in his eyes that made her feel shy.

  Alister had gone ahead to meet a friend at Northampton and Shimona had been half-afraid that Nanna would insist on being with her. But without any argument Nanna and the valet lunched in the travellers’ dining room.

  They had driven very swiftly for a great number of miles and Shimona was hungry.

  It also seemed for the first time since her father had died that the misery that had encompassed her like a fog was lifting and she was once again in the sunshine.

  She had thought never again to see the Duke and yet she was now with him. She was hearing his voice, he was near her, and because he was there her sensation of wonder and joy was increasing every moment.

  She had taken off her travelling cloak with its fur-lined hood, which had framed her face and, while they had their meal, her hair was very fair against the dark oak panelling of the inn.

  When they finished and the servants left the room, her eyes were very blue as she lifted them to the Duke’s face.

  “I – thought I would – never see you again,” she said in a low voice.

  “That was your decision, not mine.”

  “I knew how – angry Papa would be, but it was the only way that I could have taken him to – Italy.”

  She thought that the Duke would want to talk to her about it and perhaps tell her again that he had minded the thought of
losing her, but to her surprise he rose from the table to say,

  “If you have finished, I think we should be on our way.”

  There was somehow a harsh note in his voice and something she did not understand in the way he looked away from her, his eyes seeming to avoid her face.

  “What is – wrong?” she asked.

  “Why should you think that anything is wrong?” he queried.

  “Something has changed you. It must have been something Nanna said. Please – please don’t listen to her. I have never – believed the things that she has been – told about you.”

  “You have never believed them?” the Duke repeated slowly. “What have you been told about me?”

  Shimona made a little helpless gesture with her hands.

  “Nothing very positive. Just that Papa did not approve of some of the things – you have –done.”

  The Duke walked towards the log fire to stand with his back to Shimona, looking down into it.

  “Your father was perfectly right,” he said, “and I am sure that everything he heard about me was the truth. Come, we still have a long way to go before it gets dark.”

  There was nothing Shimona could do but put on her cloak and follow him outside to where the phaetons were waiting.

  There were fresh teams of horses belonging to the Duke to convey them, which she learnt were always kept ready on the road to Leicester in case at any time the Duke should require them.

  Nanna was also waiting to see her into the phaeton.

  “If it gets cold or begins to rain, Miss Shimona,” she said, “you’re to travel with me. I’ve no wish for you to get a chill.”

  “I am very warm, thank you, Nanna,” Shimona replied, “and the phaeton has a hood that can be raised if we require it.”

  Nanna pursed her lips together and Shimona hurried away so that she could not argue any more.

  She wished in some ways that Nanna had not come with her, but she knew that she must have insisted on it to the Duke and he would think it only correct that a lady should travel with her lady’s maid.

  ‘But I am not a lady,’ Shimona thought miserably. ‘I am only the daughter of an actor, acting a part, and more unhappy than I have ever been in my whole life because I am in love!’

  She was unhappy at the moment because the Duke was unpredictable and because she was becoming more and more convinced that a barrier had been erected between them.

  Yet he had only to smile at her or to speak to her in that deep voice for her heart to turn over in her breast and for her to feel as if the larks were singing in the sky above them.

  ‘I love and adore him!’ Shimona told herself as they journeyed on.

  She thrilled every time her shoulder touched his arm and every time he turned his head to look at her and their eyes met.

  It seemed then as if it did not matter what he said or how he behaved.

  The feeling they had for each other was still there and, while he might exert a rigid control on every other part of him, he could not control the expression in his eyes.

  “How long are we going to stay at your house?” Shimona enquired.

  She tried to speak normally and not to allow her anxiety to reveal itself in the tone she was speaking in.

  “I have an idea that The McCraig will not wish to linger once he has made his will,” the Duke said. “He is an old man and he wants to be with his Clan as much as possible before he dies.”

  “He is really ill?” Shimona enquired.

  “No, I think it was just an indisposition caused by too much travelling,” the Duke replied, “but it has certainly been to Alister’s advantage.”

  “When will Mr. McCraig join us again?” Shimona asked.

  “He said he would pick us up on the other side of Northampton,” the Duke replied.

  Sure enough in another few miles they saw Alister McCraig in his phaeton waiting for them at a crossroads.

  They did not slacken speed, but waved and he fell into line behind them.

  “Do you always travel in such grandeur?” Shimona asked, looking at the outriders and thinking how smart and impressive they looked.

  “I like to be safe from highwaymen and I like my comfort,” the Duke replied. ‘If we were to break down and were forced to stay in some uncomfortable inn, one of my servants is an excellent cook, and they can all look after me as well as my valet does.”

  “I suppose that is what one would expect of a Duke,” Shimona replied, thinking a little wistfully how they had never been able to employ more than one maid to help Nanna in the house.

  “There is no particular virtue in comfort,” the Duke said, “but it is something that, like money, makes life very much easier. Thanks to you, Alister will now live in a comfort he never expected.”

  “It is nice that you should be so concerned about him.”

  “You must not find virtues in me that I don’t possess,” the Duke replied. “It is my fault entirely in the first place that Alister was in danger of losing his inheritance.”

  “How could that be true?”

  “I introduced him to Kitty Varden!”

  “But you did not expect him to marry her?”

  “Good Heavens – no!”

  There was silence.

  Then in a very low voice Shimona said,

  “Did you think he might – wish her to be his – mistress?”

  For a moment there was another silence, until the Duke said angrily,

  “Will you not talk in such a manner? It does not become you and there is no reason for you even to know of such things!”

  Shimona looked at him in surprise and he went on,

  “Your nurse is right. What you are doing now can only have a corrupting influence and the sooner it is all over the better!”

  His mouth was set in a hard line when he finished speaking and he used his whip for almost the first time since they had left London as if he wished to hurry his horses on to their destination.

  Shimona relapsed into silence. There seemed to her nothing she could say.

  She only felt inexpressibly that she was alone.

  They reached the Duke’s house, which was called Melton Paddocks, as the afternoon was drawing to a close.

  As they came down a straight drive, it stood in front of them and was not, Shimona thought, a particularly attractive house.

  The centre block was three storeys high with two wings of only two stories reaching out on each side like two arms.

  She thought that they must have been a later addition to a Queen Anne building and she was to learn later that she was right.

  She had the impression that the house did not welcome them, but it was quickly dispelled as the phaeton was drawn to a standstill and servants in the Duke’s livery came hurrying from the front door and she saw The McCraig waiting to greet them.

  “I hope you have not been here long, sir,” the Duke said as he held out his hand to the old gentleman.

  “No, indeed, I arrived only half-an-hour ago,” The McCraig replied.

  They went into a large room, which was, Shimona thought, extremely masculine in the manner it was furnished.

  There was a long leather sofa and armchairs and the walls were decorated with paintings of horses and dogs.

  “I am glad to see you, my dear,” The McCraig said to Shimona.

  “I am sorry to hear that you have been ill, sir.”

  “Not ill,” he said sharply as if he resented the thought of a weakness. “Just a trifle tired and a little troubled with my heart.”

  “Your heart?” Shimona asked quickly.

  “A passing twinge,” The McCraig said lightly. “But I wanted to see you and Alister before I went North.”

  “And I am very pleased to see you again,” Shimona smiled.

  He patted her shoulder affectionately.

  Then she was introduced to the Duke’s agent, a Mr. Reynolds, who was in charge of the house and the estate.

  “I hope everything will be to Your Grace’s
satisfaction,” Shimona heard him say. “We did not have much time to prepare for your visit.”

  “I have told you before, Reynolds,” the Duke said harshly, “that I don’t intend to give long notice, or indeed any notice, when I wish to stay in my own house.”

  A housekeeper was waiting to take Shimona upstairs, an elderly grey-haired woman in rustling black, and when Shimona had been shown into her bedroom she found Nanna there.

  “You are not too tired, Nanna, after such a long journey?”

  “I’ve been worryin’ about you, sittin’ in an open carriage when you should have been inside with me in the warm.”

  “I am warm enough,” Shimona answered, “and I like being in the fresh air.”

  But Nanna did not wish to talk.

  She made Shimona lie down before dinner and, because she was in fact more tired than she would have admitted, she fell asleep.

  When she awoke, it was to find that her clothes had been unpacked and there was a bath waiting for her with one of her prettiest gowns laid out on the bed.

  “I hope you had someone to help you, Nanna,” she said, realising how much had been done while she was asleep.

  “There’s been help of a sort,” Nanna sniffed disdainfully. “But this is not a happy house, Miss Shimona. I know that already.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “A bad Master makes a bad servant!” Nanna snapped.

  Shimona gave a little sigh. She felt that she could not bear another argument over the Duke at this moment and she was well aware that Nanna had come North determined to find fault with everything.

  “I expect the servants resent us turning up at a moment’s notice,” she said. “You know yourself how difficult it is to have everything prepared so quickly.”

  “The housekeeper’s too old for her job if you ask me!” Nanna pointed out.

  She went on grumbling all the time Shimona was having her bath and getting dressed. But, as she went downstairs, she was too happy at the thought of seeing the Duke and being close to him to worry about Nanna or anyone else.

  She had hoped to have a chance of talking to him alone before they were joined by the others, but Alister McCraig was already in the sitting room with the Duke and The McCraig joined them a few seconds later.