“A birthday present? Are you sure? Presents are ‘spensive.” There was wonder in Maggie’s suddenly adult voice which broke Jeremy’s heart. For as wealthy as the Dunn family was, Alfred had barely spent any money on his own child.
“I am sure,” he replied and he nudged the box into her hands. “Now go on and open it.”
The child eagerly ripped off the box lid and a smile played about Jeremy’s lips. This was the sort of unbridled joy he himself had missed as a child and, he vowed that Maggie would never have an upbringing as miserable as his own. He would see to that, even if it meant placing her in the care of another family somewhere. He had been wrong to think his mother would do any better with her granddaughter than she had done with her sons.
“It’s a duck!” Maggie’s voice was full of wonder as she lifted the stuffed toy out of the box. “Oh, it’s wonderful!”
“And soft,” he added with a tilt of his head. “Go on and give it a hug.”
Her face full of the sort of wonder only a child could possess, Maggie quickly clutched the duck to her tightly. “Thank you, Unca Jemmy. I love it.”
Impulsively, Jeremy leaned forward and gave Maggie a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad, poppet.”
When he pulled back, he saw tears shimmering in the little girl’s eyes and looked up at Mrs. Wellsbottom in horror. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.
“We are still working on affection, aren’t we, Maggie?” the other woman asked as she took Maggie’s free hand. Jeremy noticed Maggie’s other one was still clutching the duck to her side, tighter than before.
The little girl nodded. “Mama and Papa didn’t like to kiss. Or touch. Only each other.”
Once more, Jeremy felt a pang in his heart. What had Alfred been like close to the end of his life when the disease was ravaging his body? Jeremy wasn’t certain he wished to know.
Rising slowly, Jeremy let out a long breath. “We’ll work on that, then, shall we?” He nodded at the nanny. “Whatever you feel is appropriate, Mrs. Wellsbottom, you have my leave to do as you see fit.” He glanced down at Maggie who, thankfully, didn’t seem on the verge of tears any longer, though she was still sniffling a bit. “She is my only concern.”
“Of course, my lord.” Mrs. Wellsbottom offered Jeremy a tiny bow, though he would not expect her to curtsey at her age, assuming she had ever curtesyed to anyone. Ever. She didn’t seem the type and he rather liked that she wasn’t. “And if I have need of you?”
“Contact Dionysus. They will know how to reach me, and I shall come at once.” Because nothing was more important to him than this child. Except perhaps Dory.
“I will send word when necessary.” Then the woman turned and walked away, her hand laced with Maggie’s who said nothing, just looked back at Jeremy every so often as if she was afraid he would vanish into thin air.
When Jeremy head a bell chime in the distance, indicating that “the visitors” had gone, something that had been a long-standing order from his mother, Jeremy turned back to the woman who had made his life miserable for as long as he could remember.
“How dare you?” his mother hissed before he could say anything. “What will Lady Everly think when Maggie is not here?”
“Actually, I don’t care,” Jeremy snapped, unable to comprehend that his mother cared more about Society than her granddaughter. “I don’t care what any of them think! As I have said before, I care about Maggie. She is my concern. Not you and not your friends and not this nightmare of a house you live in.” He snorted. “Actually, it is my house, if you wish to be specific. I am currently the gentleman in charge, as it were. I would be duke properly now if you would allow someone other than that quack Pickering to examine Wilson.”
His mother glared at him. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? What it has always been about! It’s about the title! You want it and it infuriates you that your brother, a good and moral man, has it! That it will never be yours!”
“I don’t give a bloody fucking damn about the title! Or the fortune! I have my own funds that I earned with my own blood, sweat, and tears, no thanks to that monster I called a father!” Jeremy roared, unleashing his anger fully now that Maggie was gone. “I care about the people who depend upon the dukedom for their lives!”
“Your father might have been strict, but he was no monster,” his mother sniffed dismissively, trying to regain her sense of propriety. “And the dukedom fares just fine, though not as well as when it was in Wilson’s hands, of course. Really, Jeremy, you have always had a flair for the dramatic. It’s little wonder you turned out to be such a disappointment and why you left home when you did, ignoring your responsibilities.”
Jeremy snorted and shook his head. “I left home because that bastard beat me. He beat all of us. He forced Wilson to try to become just like him. Why do you think he was always doing such risky things and taking foolish chances with his own life and safety? He had a death wish, Mother! We all did! Even Alfred!”
“Nonsense! Utter nonsense! You are the black sheep! Not them! They were perfect boys. Perfect gentlemen.” The dowager began to pace now, meaning she felt cornered. Well, that was too bloody bad because, in Jeremy’s mind, change was coming.
Things had to change. They could not stay as they were. For his sake, for Maggie’s sake, and possibly even for Dory’s. Knowing her, even for such a brief time, had changed him and made him want things he had always assumed were out of his reach. But what if they weren’t?
“Be that as it may, I am the one in charge now, Mother, and will be until Wilson dies which is probably likely sooner rather than later. His body, without spirit, cannot live forever. I make the decisions and at the moment, I need to do what is best for Maggie and not give a bloody damn how it will look to your Society friends. Blame me if you like. Hell, tell them I am the spawn of Satan himself. I am certain you do anyway, and it is what the papers call me after all. But you will not make Maggie feel unwanted. I won’t have it. She is my niece and she deserves better.”
Leave it to his mother, however, not to lose her composure once she fought so hard to regain it. “Again, we are not certain that is Alfred’s child. She could be anyone’s.”
“She is not. She is of Dunn blood, I have the proof, and this discussion is closed.” Jeremy rang for Higgins and requested his hat while his carriage was brought around. “Good day, Mother. I shall see you again next Friday.”
He was about to stride from the room when his mother’s voice rang out, clear as crystal.
“Do not do anything you might regret, my son. You might control the purse strings of this family, but I still control the power.” Meaning Wilson. Of course. As long as he was under her care, as long as he didn’t die, she still had some leverage.
Jeremy nodded at his mother. “That I will concede. But power fades, Mama, and Wilson will eventually die. His body has been ravaged by time and inactivity, and even if he were to wake tomorrow, he would likely not be as he was before. Too much time has passed.”
Jeremy’s words hadn’t been meant to hurt his mother but they had just the same. He knew that for certain the moment a vase went hurtling past his head and smashed against the wall. Had he not ducked at the last moment, it would have at least clipped his ear.
“Do not say such things!” she howled with fury mixed with indignation, all of her earlier, hard-won poise gone in an instant. “Wilson will live and I shall have my free rein over this family once more! You will see! And I will have that child back in my home before the week is out, for I will not be made a fool of in front of Society!”
Jeremy sighed and ducked again as this time, his mother threw a golden statue of the goddess Isis at his head. Though since it was so heavy, the statue didn’t travel far and instead left a very big dent in the middle of a nearby table.
“And I, Mother, have a dukedom to run until that day happens.” He shook his head. “You may pretend otherwise, but the courts are on my side. Until you can produce a hale and hearty Wilson, I am in char
ge and I don’t give a damn what Society thinks. About any of it, about me, or about you. I care about that little girl and the people who depend upon Wyncliffe for their very survival.”
“You also care for those who enrich your coffers,” she sneered, her words turning ugly now. “You are not some paragon of virtue, Jeremy. You sell sin and vice, flesh and cards and drink, to those who are weak of will and mind. You take advantage of that and in that way, my son, you are very much like your late and not-so-lamented father.”
Jeremy would not lose control of his temper, no matter how much his mother bated him. “I am nothing like that bastard. For one, I do not beat those I love and then turn around and goad them to be more like me. To take risks that I know can kill them and then praise them when they survive so they are likely to do it again to win approval.”
His mother shrugged. “I never said your father was perfect. He was weak and I knew that when I wed him.” she paused, as if calculating her next words. “I also know where you are weak, Jeremy. You might act as if you are not my son, but I raised you. I know where you can be hurt.”
Sadly enough, Jeremy had no doubt that was true.
“Do as you must, Mother,” he sighed as he took his hat from the butler. “And I will do the same. Just know that we each act as we do for very different reasons. I act out of care and concern for others. I cannot say the same for you.”
Before she could say another word, he turned and walked out the door, leaving the entire ugly scene behind him.
Sinking back into his carriage as it drove away, Jeremy realized he was weary from the inside out, his elation at having Dory in his bed last evening now evaporated like so much leftover tea. This was not how he had planned for the day to go. He had hoped to have luncheon, visit Maggie and then, if Dionysus was having a good night and functioning well, seek out Dory. Now he had other problems to worry about. He only hoped that, in the end, whatever his mother was on about, she did not cost him Dory. At least not before he was ready to let her go.
Chapter Thirteen
Town Tattler
Has it really been a week since the last Dionysus masquerade, dear readers? And if it has been, why should we even care? Because, my darlings, word has reached my ears that there are changes brewing with the King of Hedonism himself, one Lord Jeremy Dunn. Everyone’s favorite raven. Of course, we all know that he has been seen in the company of his delightful Lady Peacock for the last several weeks but the other evening? It was a lady in a raven’s mask that dared to enter his gaming hell and tempt him away from the tables. Is this new raven the old peacock? Or is she someone different entirely? Only time will tell.
And that is not the only scandal attached to him! No, rumor has it, mostly by way of Lady Everly, that his ward, Lady Margaret Grace Dunn (daughter of the late Lord Alfred Dunn and an unknown wife) has been removed from Wyncliffe House and she and her nanny are now in residence with the Bloody Duke and his family. Why? I can only speculate, of course, but it might have something to do with the over-abundance of Egyptian décor in Lady Wyncliffe’s home, what with its sharp points and all. That would be enough to give even the stoutest of Society matrons nightmares for weeks, let alone a child!
In other news, I have it on excellent authority that Lady Dory Tillsbury’s ill-fated romance with everyone’s favorite Bow Street Runner, Harry Greer, is coming to an end. Mr. Greer is very much enamored with newcomer to Town, Lady Penelope Marshwood, and I am hearing rumors that it might be far more than mere infatuation. Don’t say I didn’t tell you, dear readers, for I most certainly did!
So what of Lady Dory? Is she truly suffering from more frequent megrims, as had been reported? Is she taking ill at such a young age? Or does she, too, have a secret? Well, as secrets are all the rage as of late, I would not doubt it if she did. She has been mentioned in the papers far too many times as of late to simply vanish from London’s social whirl for no reason.
Also frequently in the news as of late, Miss Cecy Worth was quite possibly spotted in Lady Everly’s gardens last night in the embrace of an unknown man. If that was her, will her guardian, Lord Trent Pike, allow her to continue to indulge in such scandalous behavior or will he put an end to this nonsense – as he most certainly should! Though it would be more helpful if he married her. I merely point that out as a suggestion. Though it really would solve everyone’s problems.
And finally, I am told that Lord Miles St. Vincent, the new Duke of Hunterdon is planning to host a summer house party at his palatial country seat as a way to ease his way back into Society before the Season – Little or otherwise – begins. His father has been gone close to three years now. It is time to move on, and that house party sounds like an excellent way to begin. I am also told that the Bloody Duke might have had a hand in the timing of the party. That would make sense, for who can say no to Lord Candlewood? No one. That is who.
-Lady A
Had it really been a week since Dory had agreed to become Jeremy’s mistress and only a few days since he had bedded her for the first time? Just a brief amount of time, really, since he had first made her body tingle and her blood sing with a passion unlike any she had ever known or even dreamed was possible. Only a few days since she had first tasted paradise. It didn’t seem possible, but as she sat in Rayne and Sarah’s drawing room contemplating whether or not to return to Dionysus this evening, she supposed it really had been that long.
It felt far longer, however. Just as it felt interminably long since Dory had seen Jeremy. After the night she had shared his bed, she hadn’t seen him since, mostly because she had been unable to sneak out of the house due to her mother’s continued illness and the ever-increasing demands upon Dory’s time regarding her mother’s care. Which left her in a very troubling spot.
While her mother had not become any worse as of late, Dr. Hastings had confided in Dory only yesterday that it was unlikely that her mother would ever be the strong-willed Society hostess she had once been. Nor would she ever fully live in the present again. In his medical opinion, her brain had been damaged by the poison she had ingested and there was no longer any chance that she would recover and be the same woman she once was. Over time, he said, she would continue to fade, becoming a shell of herself until there was nothing left of the woman who had once been Lady Clara Tillsbury.
The dowager would also require more intensive care as time went on, most likely in the country where such things could be kept more private and out of the gossip sheets. Again, as the only unwed daughter in the family, Dr, Hastings had hinted that Dory would likely be in charge of that care.
Dory - the unwed daughter who now seemingly had no hope of a different future. Dory the unremarkable, rather plain Tillsbury daughter. The daughter who would, of course, oversee her mother’s care because she had nothing better to do with her life and no real prospects for a husband.
Everyone, including the Chilton House servants, not to mention Dory’s own family, was coming to expect as much from her. Especially since Dory’s ill-fated romance with Harry was now very publicly coming to an end. And it wasn’t as if Jeremy could wed her and save her from a lonely future in the country. The two of them weren’t even supposed to know each other, let alone be keeping company long enough to wish to marry – if “keeping company” was what one could call him bedding her and providing her with her first taste of true passion.
But if Jeremy could wed her – which he both wouldn’t and couldn’t do? Dory would agree in a heartbeat. If only to once again experience the searing heat he had ignited within her every day for the rest of her life.
A heat that had been sadly lacking as of late, since neither of them had been free to sneak away from their normal lives so they could be together.
Therefore, this past week was likely a taste of what Dory’s life would become sooner rather than later. And she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Except for the gifts, of course. She liked those very much. She also wished they could continue.
In some sm
all way, Jeremy had sent Dory word every day that he was thinking of her. Every morning, a note and usually some small token, perhaps a flower or a single chocolate, would be waiting for her when she arrived in the breakfast room. No one, not even Claxton, the normally stiff and proper butler, seemed to know how the items came to be waiting for her beside her plate each morning. Nor did any of them seem inclined to care, which was extremely puzzling.
Each time Dory questioned the staff, they simply said that they didn’t know anything and that someone else must have placed the items there, for they knew nothing about any such gifts or tokens or whatever. Though the tokens would have to be from a proper gentleman, wouldn’t they? For how else would the notes and gifts make it through the front door? At least that was what the staff said every time Dory asked.
All of which combined really was giving Dory a bit of a megrim at times. She was also afraid the appearance of those gifts without question meant someone within the household knew she had been secretly spending time with Jeremy – and doing so within the halls of his gaming hell.
“Dee? Is something troubling you? I have been speaking to you for the last few minutes and I don’t believe you’ve heard a word I have said.” Sarah only called Dory by that annoying nickname if she was about to pry into affairs that were none of her business.
The tea tray had been delivered while Dory had been woolgathering. That she hadn’t noticed its arrival did not bode well for her. Nor did the sharp, questioning look on her sister’s face. The one that implied Sarah was most definitely up to something and had plans for Dory. Plans that Dory might not like.
“Nothing is wrong, though I admit my mind was drifting.” Dory picked up a tea cake and bit into the sweet with far more gusto than she felt. “It is merely the megrims I’ve been suffering from recently. Or haven’t you read the papers? I am just about all they speak about as of late.”
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