The Earl on the other hand, looked as elegant as he could, considering the grass stains on his britches, the scuffs on his boots and the bloodstains down his shirt. The Duke had at least let him have a bath, but he couldn’t offer a change of clothes.
‘She’s going to kill me.’ Anthony Carruthers muttered and nursed his aching head. His right eye was closing and there was at least one popped blood vessel in his eyeball. His nose was swollen and there was a blackening bruise on his chin. Both of them had broken and swollen knuckles.
‘I think she’s going to kill both of us. Possibly me more than you.’ the Duke replied. ‘She’s going split my gizzard for not having Elizabeth away for the day.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ Anthony asked softly looking at the duke perplexed.
‘I actually didn’t even think about it, and I should have done.’ The Duke sighed. ‘I expected her nanny to divert her or remove her and I’m a fool for not checking.’ He twisted his hat in his hands. ‘I only hope I haven’t done too much damage.’
‘Jessie will sort it out. That’s why she removed your daughter. Her ingrown sense of what’s right, would make it impossible for her to leave the child.’ Anthony said consolingly. ‘We shall just have to be brave.’ He finished lamely.
The carriage pulled up on the spectacular drive and both men just sat and looked at the footman who opened the door. Bennett made a stately approach to the carriage, his bearing as if he was addressing a royal prince. He stood stoically to one side. ‘If you do not alight, my Lord. Her Ladyship will never receive either of you again.’
‘Is she very cross?’ Anthony asked sheepishly as he climbed out of the carriage.
‘I would say Mount Vesuvius in full flow would be less angry than Lady Jessica, My Lord.’ He smiled conspiratorially. ‘Did you win?’
‘I did not, Bennett. His Grace finished me with a corker to the chin and I saw nothing until I was drinking brandy in the scullery.’
‘Congratulations, Your Grace.’ Bennett said jovially, as the Duke stepped down.
‘Where is Lady Jessica?’ The Duke asked softly.
‘Her Ladyship is in the Formal Drawing Room, Your Grace. She is still nursing the Baroness.’ He smiled gently. ‘If you will follow me, Your Grace.’ And Bennett turned away and climbed the steps in the same stately manner, as befits a butler for one of the finest houses in London.
Chapter Fifteen
Jessica had nursed Elizabeth all the way home. She had been distraught and hysterical at watching her father in a bare knuckle fight. Jessica was appalled that the Duke didn’t have her removed from the house before he started beating some sense into her brother-in-law. She had held Elizabeth’s sob wracked body to her chest as Bennett had organised the rocking chair from the nursery to be brought down.
‘Poor little mite.’ Bennett had muttered as he held out a blanket and between him and Mary they wrapped the child in it as Jessica removed her hat, gloves and Spenser.
‘It’s a pity she had to see it.’ Jessica said softly. ‘This will be a difficulty for the Duke in future.’
‘I suppose a lot will depend on who won.’ Bennett said and gently stroked Elizabeth’s hair.
Jessica got comfortable in the rocker and held Elizabeth tightly on her lap as she rocked the chair and started to sing a lullaby softly.
‘Would you like some tea, My Lady?’ Bennett asked and Jessica nodded. Mary made herself comfortable in her corner and took out some sewing.
Eventually Elizabeth cried herself to sleep and Jessica asked for a book and quietly read until she heard the jangle of livery. Bennett appeared in the doorway.
‘I believe the Earl is home, My Lady.’ He said softly.
‘Then I would suggest you show him in here. If I leave Elizabeth here, I’ll only shout at him and she’ll wake in a strange place and not understand why.’ She sighed. ‘And make sure that if he’s too much of a coward, he understands that he needn’t bother coming home.’
‘Yes, My Lady.’ Bennett said and walked quickly down the passage to the hall.
It seemed to take an inordinately long time for the door to open again. But eventually Bennett opened the door and admitted not only the Earl, but the Duke of Warwick as well. They stepped cautiously into the room and then stopped dead as they saw Jessica rocking in the chair. She just stared at them. Her eyes flicking coldly from one to the other. The Earl flicked a look over his shoulder as Bennett shut the door with a click.
‘Has the cat got your tongues?’ she asked firmly, without raising her voice and making both of them flinch. ‘I would have expected an apology, at least, even if you’d rather not give me an explanation.’
‘It seemed the safest option.’ The Duke said, ‘pistols in the park can be rather permanent.’ He squirmed as Jessica’s frigid stare centred on him.
‘Well, if you’d shot each other, I wouldn’t be able to shout at you and Elizabeth would have ended up on the charity of her relatives.’ She shook her head. ‘What possessed you to hold the damned fight in your garden, Your Grace?’
‘I thought it would be a more secluded venue, rather than a public park.’ He sighed. ‘Anthony agreed with me.’
Jessica’s icy glare shifted onto her brother-in-law. ‘Did he?’
‘I’m sorry, Jessie, but I did start it by getting in my cups and landing the Duke a facer.’
‘Then you should have more sense. But I’d rather be looking at your battered faces, than burying your carcasses under the ground.’ and a small sob escaped making her thrust her hand over her mouth as she struggled to keep her composure. She closed her eyes for a moment and slowly took her hand away and then opened cold eyes again.
‘What excuse do you have for the fact that Elizabeth was watching from the window, alone?’ she said her gaze swivelling back to the duke.
He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. ‘None.’ He said calmly. ‘I could make the excuse that I forgot it was the nanny’s half day, that Mrs. Beaton was out, but in truth I didn’t even give it a thought and I should have done.’
‘Yes, you should have done.’ Jessica intoned as she looked down on the golden child in her arms. ‘She deserves better treatment, Your Grace.’
‘Was she very upset?’ he asked stupidly.
Jessica stared at him as if he had two heads. ‘Upset?’ she almost shouted and Elizabeth squirmed and moaned in her sleep. ‘Ssh! little one, rest your weary bones.’ She murmured and Elizabeth settled back into her slumber. ‘I don’t think upset is the word for it. Hysterical would be a better adjective.’ Jessica snapped coldly. ‘She was unable to understand what was happening. All she saw was her beloved father in a bare knuckle fist fight with a stranger.’ Jessica’s gaze bored into the Duke’s eyes. ‘And I don’t relish you this explanation. But this is your child, not mine, and you have to explain to her why you were fighting.’ The Duke nodded consent. ‘Sit here.’ She said and stood.
‘Elizabeth?’ she gently shook her. ‘Elizabeth, your father is here.’ She felt the child jerk in her arms and become stiff in shock.
‘Daddy?’ she asked softly.
Jessica smiled softly at her. ‘Yes, Daddy’s here. Do you want to see him?’
‘Is he alright?’
‘He looks a little battered, but still here.’ Jessica leaned down and laid the child in John Farrington’s lap and walked away. She grabbed Anthony by the elbow and steered him out into the hallway, beckoning Mary to follow.
‘Just what the hell did you think you were doing?’ she asked viciously once they were in the hall.
‘I was protecting your honour.’ Anthony said stiffly.
‘I told you not to challenge him.’ Jessica said, harshly. ‘And look what trouble it has caused. We shall be the laughing stock of London.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m retiring to my rooms and tomorrow I wish to return to Ross-On-Wye.’ She said haughtily, turned on her heel and strode purposefully down the hall and up the stairs with her head held high.
Anthony murmu
red ‘As you wish.’ He watched her until she vanished around the bottom of the stairs. He looked at Bennett. ‘Tell the Duke I’m in the study if he wants me.’ He smiled. ‘And see to his needs.’
‘Yes, My Lord.’ Bennett said and watched a disconsolate Earl walk away.
~*~*~*~
The Duke of Warwick looked down on his daughter’s cherub like face and was ashamed. ‘I’m sorry, Pigeon. I didn’t think about it being Mrs. Beaton’s day off.’ He dropped a soft kiss on her forehead.
‘Why were you fighting, Daddy?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘Is this to do with Miss Jessica sharing your bed at the house party?’
‘Yes, pigeon,’ he murmured and stroked his cheek over her curls. ‘I’ve wanted her for so long that I forget other important things.’ He kissed her head again.
‘Was the man you were fighting angry with you?’
‘Yes, at the time he challenged me, but I think, like me he is sorry that it happened.’ He squeezed his child gently. ‘I shouldn’t have done it, pigeon, she’ll never forgive me and now she probably won’t marry me either.’
‘I think you should ask anyway.’ Elizabeth said with such childlike clarity that John wanted to sob. ‘If she didn’t care she wouldn’t be angry.’ She delicately touched the bruise on his face, where his eye was closing. ‘Does that hurt?’
‘Yes, pigeon, it does.’ He sighed. ‘My whole face hurts; my ribs too.’
Bennett knocked and entered at that point. ‘Do you need anything, Your Grace?’
‘Yes, if I could have somebody to sit with Elizabeth while I try and make it up to Lady Jessica?’ the Duke requested.
‘Don’t forget to beg, Daddy.’ She smiled coyly, ‘just don’t pout.’
‘Why would I pout?’ John asked, intrigued.
‘Well, I’m just telling you not to, because it never works for me!’ He smiled down on his innocent daughter, his heart turning over in his chest. He squeezed her and kissed her brow.
Mary bustled in the room. ‘You sent for somebody, Your Grace.’
‘Yes, could you sit with Elizabeth for me and is your mistress still receiving?’
‘She hasn’t retired to bed yet, Your Grace. She is in her sitting room.’
He could hear the rejoinder if you’d like to bait the bear in it’s den! in Mary’s tone of voice, but he just ignored it. He looked down at Elizabeth. ‘You should try to go back to sleep.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll be back to take you home later.’
John handed his daughter, still bundled in the blanket, to Mary and she settled herself in the rocker. ‘Do you want to hear a story?’ she asked and she had Elizabeth’s undivided attention.
John trudged disconsolately into the hallway and asked to be shown to Lady Jessica’s sitting room. A footman sprang forward and showed him to the stairs.
~*~*~*~
Jessica had arrived in her rooms like a tornado, the anger was like a living thing in her body and the only way to dispel it was motion. At first she paced and then she flung herself into her bedroom, hauled out her trunks and set to packing for her journey into the country tomorrow. I can’t stay here any longer. She yanked the door of the armoire open with such force it was lucky not to be ripped off the hinges. I just can’t handle any more damned gossip! She berated herself as she threw her shoes, one at a time, into the trunk like she was shying at coconuts at the fair. I knew I shouldn’t have come to London; it was much better being a lowly governess! The drawer of the armoire was sticky, so she yanked it really hard and the whole drawer flew out of the slot and landed on her feet, making her curse and hop around the room. ‘Blast!’ she yelled and then sat on the bed to rub her feet.
She heard the gentle tap on her door and then the footman as he announced the Duke. ‘Give him a chair. I’ll be there in a moment!’ she shouted and scooped the contents of the spilled draw into the trunk.
John Farrington sent the footman away and stood in the doorway to her bedroom watching her with handfuls of silk underwear. Just seeing stockings and garters in her hands made his mouth go dry. He cleared his throat and leaned nonchalantly in the doorframe. ‘I’d much rather be taking those off you than watching you throw them into a trunk.’ He smiled gamely. ‘Are you going somewhere?’ She lifted the large drawer to fit it back into the armoire and he could see the outline of her perfect bottom as she heaved and tugged, her backside wiggling provocatively. His desire thundered in his temples as his blood pumped around his body to fill the exceptionally swift rise of his penis at the thought of her naked and her thighs spread for him as she bent over the drawer. Damn it! You want her for a wife, not a courtesan. He berated himself for his lascivious thoughts.
She straightened from the task of trying to get the drawer back in and stared at him as if he was a stranger. ‘You more than any other man should understand why I’m going to the country tomorrow.’ she said coldly, kicked the drawer back into place vigorously with the sole of her slipper and then opened the top drawer of the chest of drawers, pulling petticoats out, folding them and placing them in the trunk.
‘I have something in particular that I would like to ask you.’ John murmured which only earned him a frigid stare making his heart race faster, before she resumed her packing.
‘If you have come to offer me marriage, you can forget it!’ she said heartlessly.
John stood up straight and clenched his hands behind his back to stop himself from rushing into her bedroom, grabbing her and throwing her on the bed before he ravished her. ‘Why?’ he asked softly. ‘Would I not be an acceptable husband?’
Acceptable? Does he have no idea just how acceptable he is? Raced through her mind. He’s a damned Duke, of course he’s acceptable. ‘You possibly would be a very...suitable husband.’ Jessica said just as coldly, ‘but I will not feed the gossip mill any more than it is already devouring our lives.’ She opened the second drawer and started on the chemises and nightgowns.
‘Why are the gossips devouring us?’ he asked with a frisson of trepidation as he watched her bend over another trunk.
‘If you announce an engagement everybody will know your stupid pugilism was over me.’ She stood up straight and pierced him with her eyes. ‘And I cannot stand the thought of more gossip about me. I can just hear them, how I managed to ensnare a Duke and who does she think she is, after all she had to marry David Carruthers, she’s just a little whore in silk!’ this last was spat with such venom that John strode forward, determined to help her through this distress. She backed away from him.
‘Nobody thinks that about you, Jessica. You’re blowing this all out of proportion.’ John tried to placate her, but the desire for her was like fine wine singing in his veins as his erection threatened the stitching of his britches.
‘Am I?’ She hurled at him. ‘Do you honestly believe that? And when did it matter what anybody thinks, only what will feed the gossip mill!’ She shook her head and returned to the armoire, ‘nobody is interested in the truth,’ she began pulling her silk gowns out and throwing them over the bed. ‘Please leave.’ She said sadly. ‘I don’t want to argue with you and you have no right to tell me to do anything and neither does Anthony.’
‘Maybe I don’t, but what about the child you’re carrying?’ he asked softly from right behind her.
‘Who said I was with child?’ she demanded, still facing the wardrobe, her spine as stiff and straight as a poker, the gown in her hands forgotten in an instant.
‘I assumed that’s why the Earl was angry enough to give me a facer in White’s.’ The Duke whispered as his hands caressed her upper arms. ‘What other reason would he have?’ he murmured as his lips touched the back of her neck between the ringlets of hair.
Jessica’s heart suddenly pounded in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She could feel the heat from his body and a pulse started in her groin, spreading to the rest of her body as her passion found a focus. ‘Maybe he’s already asked for my hand.’ She murmured, her body relaxing as his hand drifted up over her shoulder to cup he
r chin and he slowly turned her face towards him.
‘I hope not.’ He mumbled as his lips took hers in a searing kiss, telling her with actions rather than words exactly how much he wanted her. His tongue forced it’s way into her mouth and she opened for his intrusion with total abandon as his fingers slowly caressed the exposed skin above the neckline of her gown. The silk gown in her hands slid to the floor to puddle at her feet. She shivered at his touch and she felt her nipples clench into hard peaks as his other hand tackled the hooks down her back and the ties of her stays. She gasped as the bodice loosened and his hand swept over her breast, the erect nipple making a hard button in his palm as he massaged that mound of pliant flesh. She wanted to remain angry at him, but all that rage turned into passion as his fingers and lips caressed her, driving her to a wantonness she didn’t know she possessed. She let out a soft sob of need as he adjusted his mouth over hers and a wicked impulse stole over her. She reached behind her and laid her hand over the hard ridge in his britches, stroking him gently as she traced the outline of his erection with her fingertips.
John let out a growl of passion and before Jessica could react, he spun her around, slamming the armoire door and pushing her up against it. He deftly peeled the bodice down revealing her perfect bosom, the nipples erect with desire and begging for his mouth, even as his lips traced the curve of her breast and she jerked as his mouth closed over the aching crest making spirals of want race down her body. Such was her desire, that she stood on tip toe for him and clasped her left hand into his thick, lustrous hair, while her right opened the first few buttons of his britches, before her left dropped to help release him. As the front of his britches fell away, his maddened, throbbing manhood sprang into her hand and he growled again.
The Duke and The Governess Page 20