He continued to debate and she snored for the first time. He smiled as he listened.
Mary arrived at ten to re-apply the ointment and Robert helped turn Elizabeth on her face and gently peeled off the cotton gauze. He was surprised, as the doctor said, it was superficial. He’d seen worse backs when a drummer boy was caught without a stock and received a dozen lashes.My imagination was running away with me.He decided and watched Mary smooth on the ointment liberally. They lay the gauze back into position and then Mary smiled softly.
‘I’ll leave you to it, Your Grace.’ She said coyly.
‘Be here before first light, Mary.’ He said softly. ‘I have an appointment in Hyde Park tomorrow morning and I don’t want to be late.’
She looked at him as if she would argue, flicked her eyes to Elizabeth and then looked back into his eyes and slowly nodded her head. ‘Yes, Your Grace.’ She sighed and headed for the door.
Robert climbed back on the bed, put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
Argyll knocked firmly on the door of 23 Berkley Square and waited patiently for the door to open.
The butler opened the door, recognised his face and looked decidedly unhappy.
‘I wish to see Lord Audley.’ Argyll said calmly. He fetched out a calling card, complete with the coat of arms. ‘Would you tell him the Duke of Goring is here and would be grateful for a moment of his time?’
‘Of course, Your Grace.’ The butler said equally calmly. ‘May I take your cloak, Sir?’ he asked as Argyll flicked the cloth from his shoulders, he handed over his tall hat and gloves as well. ‘If you will wait in the drawing room, Your Grace. I shall inform his lordship that you are here.’ He said indicating a door.
Argyll walked into a very comfortable sitting room and he could see Elizabeth’s hand everywhere from the choice of curtains to the painting hanging over the fire. He went to study it and was surprised that it was practically new, having been painted the previous year and by a new artist called John Constable. It was a very nice landscape.I’ll have to keep my eye out for one of his paintings. That’s very nicely executed.
The door opened with a bang and Alexander Audley, Earl of Craanford stood on the threshold and said ‘What the hell do you want, Argyll?’
‘To see your second.’ He said coldly without turning from his appraisal of the painting. ‘You have grass before breakfast in the morning.’ Argyll turned slowly and looked at the expression of dread forming on Audley’s face. ‘I’m afraid you picked the wrong Duke to cross.’ He said almost conversationally. ‘Bosworth is going to spill your blood tomorrow morning. Now I need to know who your second is, as we have to discuss your choice of weapons.’ He was quiet and waited patiently for Audley to speak.
‘Do I have any options?’ he asked and even Argyll could hear the tremor in his voice.
‘Yes, you do. Be out of London by tomorrow teatime and don’t show your face here again.’ He smiled coldly. ‘If you fail to appear you will be labelled a coward. The word on thetonis that you beat up women and I for one can’t disagree with that particular piece of gossip.’ He waited again and watched Audley as he stood undecided on the threshold.
‘Come with me.’ Audley said softly and turned away. Argyll slowly followed him through a door that turned out to be a dining room. The butler held the door and Argyll was very surprised at Audley’s guest.
‘Lord Beresford. I didn’t realise you were back from India?’ he said pleasantly enough.
‘Lord Audley was good enough to fill me in on the gossip. My wife is in the country at the moment, Your Grace.’
‘Forgive me for speaking bluntly my Lord, but if I were you, I’d take her with you next time.’
‘I wouldn’t need to if Roding had kept his cock in his britches!’ he said harshly. ‘But that’s for another time. I have offered my services to Audley as second so what weapons shall we have?’
‘You’ll forgive me, but is that what Audley told you. That Roding has been tupping your wife?’ Argyll asked with all the innocence he could muster. Beresford nodded firmly. ‘Amazing how a man that can tie a woman to a punishment frame and whip her with a cat o’ nine tails just happens to tell you the man that’s going to kill him tomorrow has also been tupping your wife? I rather think you should wait until the child is born. The chances are it will have blond hair, from Randolph, Cranwell or Farrington.’ Beresford face started to suffuse into a deep scarlet and Audley squirmed in his chair. Argyll kept his voice conversational, instead of accusational. ‘Of course, Rathbone was the last one I heard about, so it might have red hair!’ Argyll pointed at the Claret jug. ‘May I?’ and leaned forward to pour himself a drink. ‘I fully understand your motives, but you are not duelling tomorrow, he is!’ he finished harshly and turned his head to Audley. ‘What weapons would you like, as the Duke is comfortable with whatever you choose?’
‘Pistols.’ Audley tried to sound firm, but he couldn’t hide the quaver in his voice.
‘Pistols it is. I have a fine pair of duelling pistols, or we could use yours, if you prefer?’ Argyll said to Beresford.
‘Yours will be fine. Mine are still in transit.’
Argyll emptied his glass and stood up. ‘So gentlemen. I will see you tomorrow morning at first light in Hyde Park opposite St. George’s Row. If you are not there by the time the sun is up, I will assume you are not coming and will act accordingly.’ He speared Beresford with a piercing look. ‘If he doesn’t show, I expect him out of London by tea time!’ He offered his hand to Beresford, who stood and shook it firmly. ‘Until tomorrow.’ And Argyll walked out of the door.
Damn and blast!He fumed.Of all the men he could have got to be a second, he had to get Beresford! He scowled in the hall as the butler helped him on with his cloak. He pulled on his gloves and had just taken his hat when Beresford appeared out of the door.
‘Your Grace?’ he drew Argyll’s attention. ‘Is it true? Has she been sleeping with all and sundry?’ He looked a bit shell shocked.
‘I’m afraid so. Don’t take my word for it, go to Almack’s and ask.’ He settled his hat. ‘Quite frankly, I don’t know how many she’s been with, that’s why Robbie stopped. He was afraid she would give him the pox!’
Beresford looked at his shoes. ‘Audley has said that the Lady Elizabeth is his fiancé and Bosworth has charmed her away.’
‘Really?’ Argyll spluttered and laughed. ‘Lady Elizabeth has said no to Audley six times. Robbie has spent the summer listening to her scream from her treatment at the hands of the Audley’s and that man in there’ he said pointing to the dining room ‘isn’t any different. When we kicked in the door this afternoon, he had Lady Elizabeth shackled to a punishment frame and was whipping her with the lash.’ He turned to the butler. ‘Can you show his lordship where Lady Elizabeth was?’ The butler nodded. ‘Do so.’ He turned back to Beresford. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ he said and sighed as he walked to the door and let himself out.
Argyll sat in his study, drinking a large brandy and cleaning his duelling pistols. They were a fine pair of engraved and gilded flintlocks made by Wogdon and Barton of London. They came complete with a presentation and storage case made of walnut and inlaid with velvet. Argyll painstakingly cleaned them with boiling water, using a cotton wad on a stick to pull through the barrels, removing old gunpowder residue. He did this repeatedly until the barrels were pristine and then he re-assembled the pistols, inserting fresh flints and springs. He cleared the platinum-lined touch holes with a spike to make sure they were clear of old powder. He checked the powder horn and the quality of the powder in it and then the symmetry of the shot, each round ball weighing nearly half an ounce and having a calibre of 0.45 of an inch. Each shot would be fired at a velocity of 800 feet per second and with the slight rifling in the barrel, it would hit its intended target very hard. They were lethal if fired in the twenty paces range. Argyll was testing each pistol when the tap came on his door, he went and opened it himself to find Lady Verity stan
ding there.
‘I didn’t know whether you were in or not.’ She said softly. She was surprised to see him in his shirt sleeves. He invited her in and offered her a chair. She looked at the pistols and paraphernalia in shock.
‘Can I get you a little brandy mother? You look quite shocked.’ Argyll could see the pallor in her face. She dragged her eyes away from the pistols and nodded.
‘I’m actually still quite horrified that our house was invaded in such a way.’ She haughtily. ‘The staff members that were hurt, are they alright now?’ she asked and he could hear the quaver in her voice as he handed her a small brandy.
‘Yes, they are fine, now. I think you should go to Goring Hall for a week and have some quiet. It’s going to be bad for the next few weeks.’ He picked up the pistols and carefully laid them back in the case.
‘Why?’ she asked rather abruptly, her eyes filled with horror at what those weapons could do.
‘Two reasons. Everyone in thetonwill be talking about the invasion of our house and Lord Beresford is back. Audley has done his best to make it seem like Robbie was the only man tupping Abigail Beresford, and I’ve tried to set it straight, but it’s not going to be pleasant tomorrow morning.’
‘Robert has challenged him?’
‘Audley?’ she nodded. He said simply. ‘Yes.’
‘Then I hope he succeeds.’ She said and swallowed the brandy. ‘Now you should come and see Sarah for a few minutes, she’s still unsettled by all of this.’
‘Yes, Mother.’ He said, emptied his glass and put his jacket on.
As he opened the door to the drawing room a pink, silk tornado swept into him, causing him to clutch at her body. ‘Oh! Johnny!’ she mumbled against his cravat. He bent and swept Lady Sarah up into his arms, went to the ecru brocade settee and sat down, adjusting her weight on his lap. ‘What seems to be the matter?’ he asked calmly as he heard the first snuffle of her tears.
‘You’re going to a duel tomorrow.’ she said tearfully, ‘and if you get killed what will happen to me?’
He laughed heartily. ‘My dear girl! I’m not fighting a duel, I’m only a second. It’s my responsibility to see that its a fair fight.’
‘Have you done this before?’ she asked and sounded just like the innocent girl she was.
He nodded, looked down and gently kissed her rose coloured lips. He refrained from kissing her deeply or passionately, it was a rather chaste kiss as he didn’t even open his lips.What’s wrong with him?Sarah thought and immediately tilted her head and opened her lips in a provocative manner. Argyll gasped and suddenly her arms were about his neck and his hand was up her dress, fondling the bare silky skin above her garter and his erection was trying to get out of his britches.
He tore his mouth away from hers. ‘What are you trying to do to me?’ he was panting, both with desire and lack of oxygen. He whipped his hand off her thigh and slowly dropped the hem of her dress. ‘Not until our Wedding night.’ He said firmly.
‘But it’s such a long time to wait!’ she pouted suddenly.
‘But wait you will. I’ll be going with Robbie to get his special licence tomorrow. Would you like me to get one for us?’
‘What’s a special licence?’ she asked softly.
‘It means we can get married anywhere. I have applied for a licence at Grosvenor Chapel as you know, but we have to wait for the banns to be read and that takes three weeks.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘And you did want a double wedding.’
‘Yes, I know.’ She said firmly. ‘But I think you can get one for us, because I can’t wait any longer.’ She nuzzled her face under his ear and whispered. ‘You’ve opened a door that I can’t close.’ She sighed softly. ‘I want you now, not next week or next month, but right this moment.’ And he felt the shudder of need run through her body.
‘Damn.’ He murmured in her hair. ‘You make it very difficult for me.’ He slowly kissed her neck and in the next second she had leaned back and his face was buried in her cleavage. He was just going to undo the back of her gown when he realised what he was doing. ‘God! You, Madam, are a teaser of the first order!’ He stood up and sat her down on the settee. ‘I’m leaving while I still can and before I do something I shouldn’t.’ He said and stalked proudly towards the door. ‘Good night, Sarah.’ He said and dashed through the door as if a devil were in the room. He stood in the hall, clutched the hard on that was severely testing the material of his britches and moaned softly. ‘If only I wasn’t such a gentleman.’ He murmured and then stalked off to the ducal apartments to go to bed.
‘Carter? Wake me at three.’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’ The valet said as he picked up Argyll’s jacket from where it was dropped on the bed. Argyll stripped quickly, threw himself into bed and was asleep before Carter finished sorting his clothes out. Carter checked him and then closed the door softly on his way out.
Chapter 15 Death for Breakfast
Robert had laid awake all night, staring in the fire and mentally preparing himself, as he used to do in India. He’d been in a duel before, in Seringatapam. Another Captain had taken exception to an order of his and called him out. Wellesley’s standing rule was ‘No Duelling’ and Robert didn’t disagree, it cost the lives of too many officers.
They had ridden away from camp and in the heat of the midday, with the air oscillating between them, they had squared off. Robert had been the most inexperienced of the two and he’d fired first. He didn’t snap the shot off as soon as he turned around, because his second had told him not to, but he fired first. Unfortunately for the other officer, with the heat oscillation, Robert’s lead ball had entered his head right between his eyes and the officer was dead before he hit the ground. Disgusted with himself, Robert had disconsolately climbed back on his horse and gone back to camp to await a summons to Wellesley’s tent, assuming he would be charged with murder and executed. The days passed and in the end word filtered down the line that the officer had been killed by the Maharattas, so Robert could breath easy, not that it was murder in the true sense of the word, but duelling was against the law.
He heard the gentle tap on the door and climbed carefully off the bed. He cracked the door to see Carter standing there. ‘His Grace’s compliments, Your Grace and would you like to use his facilities this morning?’
‘Yes. Thank you, Carter. Tell the Duke I shall be with him directly.’ He looked back at Elizabeth quietly sleeping as he picked up his boots, jacket and cravat. He was just going to close the door when Mary arrived. She said good morning quietly, went into Elizabeth’s room and closed the door.
The Ducal apartment was across the corridor and Robert followed Carter straight in.
‘Morning Robbie!’ Argyll said from his place at the breakfast table. He was just finishing some tea. ‘Have a cup?’ he offered the tea pot and Robert nodded.
It didn’t take him long to have a wash and replace his shirt. He tied his cravat carefully, retied his queue, pulled on his jacket and Carter brushed it down. He pulled his boots on, that Carter had buffed. He looked at himself in the long mirror. He looked like a gentleman, almost a fop. Just like all the other rich men in London. A part of him wanted to be wild and reckless. To go and live in the country where he could wear what he liked, instead of the rigorous fashions that London imposed on them all. But responsibility wouldn’t let him, and this morning he could feel the weight of that responsibility. If it went wrong, the Dukedom of Roding would end up with the crown and his Grandmother would be forced out onto the street. His family would disappear into obscurity and Elizabeth and his child would be at the mercy of Alexander Audley.
He went to join Argyll and the two men stared at each other. ‘If it should go wrong,’ Robert started and Argyll tried to cut across him. ‘No, John. I would like you to take care of my Grandmother. She will be distraught enough at my death, without ending up on the streets. Just let her live her life out on one of your small estates somewhere, please?’
Argyll couldn’t possibly refus
e his friend. ‘I will take care of her, Elizabeth and your child, you have my word.’ Argyll said softly, ‘but just let that idiot fire first, then you can choose where to put your bullet.’
‘I have every intention of doing just that. But he might be a crack shot, or he might just be lucky this morning.’
‘Personally I don’t think he’s going to show.’ Argyll said with a laugh. ‘Well, shall we depart?’
They went down the magnificent staircase to the main foyer, only to find Lady Verity and Lady Sarah waiting to bid them goodbye. Sarah coyly kissed Robert’s cheek and wished him well, but Verity hugged him, like his mother would have done. Rogers brought the cloaks and the pistol case. They donned their hats and went out of the doors, down the steps, climbed in and the carriage jerked into motion.
Elizabeth woke with a jerk. She lifted her head and looked around, turned over and sat up. She looked at Mary. ‘Where is Robert?’ she asked without thinking.
‘His Grace has left, My Lady.’ Mary said calmly. ‘Would you like some tea?’
‘Yes. Left to go where?’ she demanded and Mary looked evasive as if she was trying to think of an excuse. ‘Damn! He’s gone to shoot Audley!’ Elizabeth said harshly. ‘Oh! Damnation! Can’t men ever be reasonable? Audley’s like a rutting stag and Robert has suddenly come over all chivalrous?’ Elizabeth threw the bedclothes aside and stood up. She winced but that was all.
‘My Lady! The Doctor said you should remain in bed.’
‘Mary, we both know this is not the first time I’ve been whipped. Now is Lady Sarah up?’
‘I believe she is, My Lady.’
‘Good, go and ask her for her riding costume, the one with britches. I need to see this duel.’ She poured some water in the basin and suddenly looked at Mary. ‘Come on! Shake a leg. I have to see this. Now move!’ and she splashed cold water in her face and reached for the soap.
Mary ran down to the Pink room and made her mistress’s request. Sarah being Sarah, she didn’t want to be left behind and immediately changed too. ‘It’s lucky I have more than one set of riding clothes.’ She said as she opened the door, but as her gaze fell on Elizabeth’s back she sucked in a huge breath in shock. ‘My God! Doesn’t that hurt?’ she gasped.
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