Scandal at Vauxhall (Pleasure Garden Follies)

by Pimentel, Layna

  Then as if receiving a blow to her delicate stomach, Isabel fled to the water basin. A cold shivering sweat coated her silk-covered body. Her muscles contracted, and for the first time since her childhood, she succumbed to a wave of nausea. In between heaving, both the butler and the housekeeper rushed in behind her.

  “Your Grace—”

  “Enough of this nonsense,” the butler announced. “I’ll fetch the physician myself.”

  When Isabel finally quit, she slid back under her covers, curling into a ball. It was only toast. Never in her life did a crispy piece of bread elicit such a reaction. The sounds of Mrs. Pitts’s feet shuffling while cleaning up her dreadful mess washed away with slumber, striking her fancy once again. But before—heaven forbid—she was granted any rest, the edge of her bed dipped, and the warmth of her housekeeper’s hand rested on her forehead.

  “Your Grace, you have not had your monthly yet, have you?”

  Isabel blinked, furiously trying to remember when her last cycle passed, and the more she thought, the more she was coming to the same conclusion. Good God! The day in the carriage—it would have been the only time—

  A single tear fell, followed by an onslaught and a steady stream. What will Nathaniel do? Will he cut all ties to her? Will he wed Lady Eloise Morton? She had certainly gone and mucked it up now. But she was certain of one thing. She would never give the child up and no one could make her. Nor would she allow the child to be raised by a woman as self-serving as the dowager countess.

  * * * *

  Nathaniel paced the morning room, undecided on what to do first. He had not heard back from his solicitor, nor had he received a response from Isabel. He expected he would have heard from her by now, but his instincts were beginning to confirm his earlier suspicions of someone in Isabel’s household keeping his letters from her. But who? And what could they possibly gain from keeping me away from her?

  A carriage pulled up the drive, and his mother, on cue, floated past him. “Ah! Just in time. We pay the servants handsomely, why in heavens are they not outside?” she shouted.

  Their butler and two servants rushed to the door, opening it in perfect synchronization as the footman was about to knock.

  “Ladies Eliza and Eloise Morton, your Ladyship!”

  Nathaniel blinked and swallowed a lump the size of a brick. Clearly the butler had a sense of humor. Why on earth are they here? Mother. Mother and her scheming, and of course, he had already heard the rumors and read the bets in the books at White’s. He approached the entrance casually, glaring daggers at the matriarch of the Thompson family.

  “Ladies.” Nathaniel strained to smile and offer them the courtesy of a simple bow. “We are delighted to receive you. What would be the occasion?”

  The elderly Lady Morton disregarded his comment and turned to his mother. “You said things were settled.”

  He craned his neck to listen in on what the ladies were discussing, but to no avail, the moment they caught him watching, they began whispering. Will this never end? The last I checked, I was head of this house! Ignoring the nonsense and the lone Eloise, who now stood down the hall ordering the servants around, Nathaniel rushed out the door.

  He needed information, and he needed it now. Once business with his solicitor was clear, he would stop in and visit Isabel. If they would not let her respond, then it was up to him to show everyone that he was not to be trifled with.

  Nathaniel had only reached his horse when a willowy shadow blocked his exit. “You know, most people would find your behavior inexcusable. But I find it part of your devilish charm, Lord Thompson.”

  “Lady Morton, I need you to step out of the way. I have errands that I must take care of.”

  “I am sure you do, My Lord. However, it would be highly irregular were it known our host ignored us, let alone kicked us out to the curb. In pursuit of a ruined dowager duchess, no less.” She stalked toward him like a cat in heat, waiting the precise moment to pounce.

  “I mean no disrespect, My Lady, but I have business with my solicitor.” He walked his horse, past the arrogant chit, knowing all too well what kind of disaster awaited for him when he returned home.

  “Her Ladyship invited us, but many others are expected. It would be terribly foolish for you to leave right before all your guests arrive.”

  Nathaniel stopped dead in his tracks. What in the world is she talking about? His stable master approached and reached for the reins. Nathaniel nodded, allowing him to take the beast back to its stall. “Just exactly how many people did my mother invite?”

  She paused and pursed her lips. “Well, I do believe she mentioned some of your available friends from Oxford would be in attendance, as well as the Duke of Downsbury, Lord and Lady Broxton, and a few others.”

  He cringed as anger mounted in him. She invited Downsbury! How could she? The woman was hell bent on forcing him to his knees. Perhaps he should consider retreating to their family’s hunting lodge and plan an extended trip to the continent for his mother. He returned to the house, bracing himself for the tension beginning to plague his neck, and only stopped as he pulled his butler aside privately.

  “I need you to send word to my solicitor. I would like to meet with him in my library within the hour and not a minute later.”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  Nathaniel shuddered at the thought of what he would do with so many visitors. His limited privacy would impede his efforts to sneak away. Unless he waited for his guests to retire for the evening, but then again, he must do his best to avoid more scandal. Tonight would surely be interesting, and the only thing he looked forward to was keeping an eye on Downsbury.

  * * * *

  Isabel’s heart sank, and the tears wouldn’t cease flowing. Henry’s physician confirmed her pregnancy, and in the same breath, he had delivered the strictest of orders she was to rest. Thankfully, he had enough sensibility to not question who the father might be. She did not think she could handle the embarrassment of acknowledging Nathaniel having played a part in her condition.

  Not to mention the unfinished business with Downsbury and the family’s country estate. As soon as the matter was dealt with, she would leave London permanently and live in the country. Somewhere she could raise the little one in peace and away from money-grubbing dukes.

  The thought made her wonder sadly about the status of the Duchess of Downsbury. If she really is with child, who had fathered the babe? Was it Henry, or another gent of nobility and wealth? The mere thought of her being shipped off to remain hidden until the child was born, only to have to give it away made Isabel want to weep.

  “Your Grace?”

  “Come in.”

  “Well, now that the worst of it is over, we will need to have some new gowns made up for you and prepare a nursery.”

  “There will be no need to clear out one of the rooms. I have no intention of remaining in London. Once I have received clearance, the townhouse will be sold, and I have every intention of moving to the country. I have no desire to raise a child in a home that harbors nothing but terrible memories. No. We shall embark on a new life, in a new home.”

  The housekeeper paled at the news. “Your Grace, but what of the staff?”

  “I will not have a need, nor the room, for a full staff in a country cottage. I will offer everyone a handsome compensation for your years of service, but I think it is time I do something for myself. Once I am settled, I will send word to my parents, who, hopefully by then, will have forgiven me for my course of actions.”

  “Your Grace, while I understand your need to do things on your own, you are not thinking clearly—in your condition, you should not be making drastic decisions,” the woman exclaimed.

  While she had a point, Isabel simply could not sit idle any longer. Days had passed without any word from Nathaniel, and the pain, mixed with longing, confused her to no end.

  * * * *

  Nathaniel’s appointment with his solicitor had gone better than expected. Isabel’s countr
y estate had been the only casualty of her late husband’s idiocy, which meant everything went to her, as he had no heir. Absolutely everything had gone to Isabel, and he doubted she even knew how much his fortune spanned.

  Estates on the continent and in Scotland, to investments in the Americas, all monies belonged to her. And for a woman who prided herself on her independence, she was about to become the wealthiest dowager duchess he had ever known.

  Such a pity she had to endure the humiliation of her husband’s affair, and even their own tryst at Vauxhall. Nothing would ever take away that embarrassment. He had never once considered Isabel a conquest. Yet, he never stopped himself from leading them into compromising situations.

  He eased into his seat in the parlor when Downsbury spoke up.

  “So, how exactly does one get away with scandalous affairs at the Pleasure Gardens, my lord? I am vastly amused at how quietly the House of Lords has been handling your indiscretions.”

  Nathaniel choked on the port he had been sipping and cleared his throat. Everyone from Avonlea, his mother, Eloise and her mother, and the various other guests were silenced.

  “Your Grace, while I am not one to listen to what the wagging tongues of London have to say about anything or anyone, I will remind you once again, I do not discuss my personal life. Not in private, nor in public. And I find it particularly rude and inconsiderate of you to even bring up such a discussion before delicate ears.

  “That said, I think everyone present would love to know how your lovely duchess is doing. Pray tell, why hasn’t she yet graced us with her presence?”

  The duke sneered, only regaining his composure when the dowager countess approached Nathaniel from behind and whispered, “What in the devil are you doing?”

  “Do sit down, Mother. I am only asking what the entire is room is dying to know.”

  “My wife is unwell and has decided to rest in the country for a bit.”

  And there it was. The duchess was surely in confinement, and to keep from further embarrassing himself, he had rushed her off to the country. How typical.

  “Of course she did,” Nathaniel muttered before setting his glass down. “Well, I wish everyone a good evening. I am exhausted and would like to retire before my sensibility escapes me.”

  Eloise threw herself into his path, blocking his exit once again. “Surely, My Lord, I could entice you with some cheery music.”

  “I am sorry, Eloise, but I would much rather retire for the evening. Perhaps another time.”

  On cue, Avonlea retrieved the eager, husband-hunting Miss Morton from his sight. A heavy knock on the front door drew everyone’s attention from the parlor. A panicked voice pleaded and begged for entry. Approaching the foyer, his butler barely managed to keep the visitor put.

  “What seems to be the issue?”

  “The Duke of Downsbury…where is he? I have urgent news!”

  “What news?” the duke asked, joining the party in the foyer.

  “Her Grace’s carriage. There was an accident. Her body has been washed away.”

  Gasps could be heard from the other room. Well now, this evening has certainly gotten more interesting. If he heard right, the duke only snorted, “You are positive her remains could not be found and that she has indeed died?”

  The messenger nodded furiously.

  “Run along now. Thank you for the message.”

  Nathaniel’s butler closed the door behind the boy. The marquess shook his head when the duke ordered everyone into the other room and requested more drinks. The man clearly had no heart, simply dismissing the fact that his wife had died. No grief. No questions asked. What kind of man went on with life without a moment of introspection?

  Nathaniel could not believe he had just walked on by and did not let the loss of his wife move him one bit. He marched back into the parlor and stood in the entryway. “That’s it? That is all you are going to say on your wife’s death? Did you slip on your way here and lose half your wits? Your wife is dead, man. Go home and at least put a half decent effort into fooling the public that you are grieving!”

  “Why on earth would I do that? Her Ladyship and I have much to discuss.” And it was the sinister smile that the duke gave Nathaniel’s sister that threw him over the edge for the final time.

  “You had best set aside any notion of making her your next duchess. I will not allow it!”

  “And you are in no position to make demands. The girl isn’t your charge. And I am quite sure your mother will have no objections to the match, will you, Eleanor?”

  His mother smiled and nodded to the duke, and his sister swooned right into the arms of Avonlea. This night had gone from terrible to a living, breathing nightmare.

  I’ll kill him if it’s the last thing I do!

  Chapter Seven

  Nathaniel’s sister bounded down from the terrace steps and threw herself into his arms. Tears stained her face, and she trembled beneath his embrace. “Nathaniel, you cannot allow Mother to marry me off to that unfeeling, cold toad! His poor wife! And he could not even be bothered to leave and verify it was true.”

  “I know, darling. I shall see what I can do to prevent it from going any further. Now run along inside and do try to stay out of sight. The less Mama and Downsbury see you, the less distraction you will pose.”

  Anger boiled to a fevered pitch, forever sealing Downsbury’s fate. Nathaniel would call him out just as soon as his guests had departed. And his mother had also secured a permanent holiday to the continent.

  Nathaniel struggled to understand what the duke was up to. Before the cad would be permitted to marry again, he would have to seek an annulment, and he most certainly could not do that overnight.

  Then there was the matter of Isabel’s country estate. Downsbury would not stop until he had it, and from the news his solicitor delivered yesterday, Downsbury was indeed heavily in debt. Perhaps that is why he had announced inconspicuously in the parlor his intention for Emily’s hand in marriage.

  Her dowry was substantial and more than enough to lure any greedy man. The only unfortunate thing was that she was an impertinent brat, and for many reasons he had been grateful that she had not been married off as soon as some of the other young ladies from the academy she attended.

  He had to find a way to end this lunacy. But how? The only way out for Downsbury was a duel or debtor’s prison. The thought of the duke being locked away at Newgate was enticing, though Nathaniel doubted he would end up there. As sneaky as the bastard was, he would probably flee the country if he got wind of such a deal.

  But then again, maybe that was the angle the duke operated on. Take what he could from Isabel, get his marriage annulled, marry his sister, and then flee the country. Once the cad was gone and out of sight, though, what would he do with Emily? Leave her discarded in the streets of Venice or Paris? Good Lord! His imagination ran wilder with each passing moment.

  A duel it is.

  The next morning, Nathaniel fought a yawn as the excitement from the night before left him restless and pacing the grounds until now. The servants bustled about and his mother’s scolding voice could be heard in the distance.

  A sigh escaped his lips when Avonlea approached. “Dare I ask what has her in such a foul mood this early?”

  “Could not sleep, I see? She is perturbed by the fact that you could not be found in your quarters this morning. She has got the Mortons all in a dither as she remarked you might have gone to see the whore again.”

  Nathaniel lost his breath and winced at the label. He punched Avonlea in the face and grabbed him by his lapels. “Do not ever in my presence use that word to describe the future marchioness of this manor! Am I understood?”

  “Get a grip on yourself, man. I was only repeating what your doting mother said, you dolt!”

  He released Avonlea, brushing his jacket where hands were imprinted. “Apologies. But if I hear Isabel referred to as that once more, I just may have to kill someone.”

  His friend chuckled at
his admission, though he did not seem to think it funny. Another yawn escaped while he stretched his tense muscles. He needed sleep, but he also desired to gain some hold over Downsbury. “I have a proposition, Avonlea. If you are ready for your day to start, I would like to go and make some acquisitions. Without them, I do not think I will stand a chance in ridding Downsbury of his ridiculous notion of marrying my sister.”

  “If this is your way of asking me for aid, you should know subtlety is not your forte. I will be glad to assist in any manner that I may, but do you not think you are being a rather hasty? Besides, that bratty sister of yours has just received the shock of her life. Do you think she might start acting like a lady?”

  Nathaniel snorted. “Not in the least, but it might stop her from doing foolish things like winning a public game of whist with Broxton.”

  * * * *

  Isabel jumped out of her skin when she heard the pounding at her door. Please don’t let it be Downsbury. I cannot deal with him right now. She descended the stairs to find Edmonds giving entry to a gentleman.

  “Your Grace, this would be Mr. Smith. He is Lord Thompson’s solicitor.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, sir. Let us speak in the morning room. Edmonds, see that some tea is brought in please.”

  The solicitor followed closely behind, only stopping when shown where to sit. He must have been sent by Nathaniel. His arrival meant things were ready to move along, though she would have much rather had Nathaniel present for this discussion.

  “Your Grace, I am so glad I had the opportunity to work on your behalf. Your late husband would not have approved, but I am thrilled, nonetheless. Nathaniel wished to be present, but he is otherwise occupied with a house full of unexpected guests. He entrusted me to speak with you.”

  “Go on.”

  “The late Duke of Brimley, as far as I could find and verify with his own solicitor, only owes the deed to his ancestral country estate. I have also been advised that considering the Duke of Downsbury is too in an abundance of debt, all of his holdings have been acquired to pay off the remainder. It is my understanding that a portion of any monies left over will be forwarded to an orphanage in memory of the Duchess of Downsbury’s death.”