Two Notorious Dukes Page 15

  ‘Lady Elizabeth Craanford, Your Highness.’

  ‘Craanford! Why do I know that name?’ The Prince muttered and turned to another Duke, ‘Norfolk! Why do I know the name of Craanford?’

  ‘Because you had a meeting with him yesterday about Ireland, Your Highness.’

  ‘Oh! Yes, that’s right.’ He muttered and looked at Argyll, ‘didn’t like him much. He certainly had no sense of humour and I thought he was going to storm out when I offered him the snuff.’ He laughed coarsely. ‘But his good sense won out. I think even an idiot realises not to upset the Prince Regent as he holds the country’s purse strings.’

  ‘What was he after?’ Argyll asked evenly.

  ‘Concessions, as always. Wants to be Earl Marshall of Ireland, I think. Come to think of it, he was blabbering on about me giving him support in his efforts to secure his dead cousins wife. Apparently he’s asked her a few times.’

  ‘He can ask ‘til doomsday, Sir. She’s going to marry Robbie Bosworth and become a Duchess, not stay a Countess.’

  ‘I don’t blame her, really.’ The Prince acknowledged. ‘There’s no contest. Robbie is a gentleman, but I doubt that Craanford is.’

  ‘If he’s anything like his dead cousin, he won’t be.’

  ‘What do you know?’ the Prince demanded like a gossipy old woman.

  Argyll had a moment of reluctance and then he told the Prince everything he knew about the Craanford’s.

  ‘He did that to his wife?’ the Prince demanded. ‘Was the man mad?’

  ‘Obviously, Your Highness.’

  ‘He must have been to kill his heirs off.’ He said disgruntled and it wasn’t often a bit of gossip could upset the Prince Regent.

  ‘He probably did it because pregnancy would be inconvenient, Your Highness.’ The Prince nodded.

  ‘Yes, if he was a brute, he wouldn’t easily give up on his whipping girl now would he? He wouldn’t be able to find one somewhere else easily, because the local whores are a bit touchy about that.’

  ‘Well, if you ask Robbie, you’ll find he doesn’t think this Craanford will be any different from the other one.’ Argyll said. ‘Apparently the blackguard won’t take no for an answer and has threatened the Lady concerned.’

  ‘Well in that case, he can fish for Earl Marshall. I can’t have a brute like that ruling Ireland. He’d be too keen to send the buggers to the rope!’ He turned suddenly ‘Norfolk? Remind me to forget Craanford for the Ireland job! He’s not fit for it.’

  ‘Yes, Your Highness.’ The Duke of Norfolk muttered and shook his head.

  ‘So, you’re with child.’ Lady Verity said without any preamble.

  ‘I am.’ Elizabeth stated and looked challengingly at Lady Verity, daring her to complain.

  ‘I’m delighted.’ She said and smiled brightly, ‘but your wedding will have to be soon.’

  Elizabeth relaxed. ‘I’m not a month yet; the morning sickness has just started and is still intermittent.’

  ‘I suppose you know the signs well.’ Verity stated.

  ‘Yes. I’ve had plenty of practice.’ Elizabeth said and a shadow passed over her face as she thought about the other babies.

  ‘Very well, I’ve put you in the Green room this time around, so John can actually have his ducal suite back. And then I won’t have to listen to him trying to get into your room again.’ She smiled tightly, ‘and Sarah is in the pink room next to mine, where he definitely can’t get at her.’

  Over the next two weeks Elizabeth and Sarah visited every couturiére in London. Sarah settled on a white silk empire dress, complete with a coat in emerald green silk with ermine on the collar and cuffs. The coat buttoned right up to her chin and it came with a hand muffler in the same fur. Her delicate lace veil was short, only coming to her collar, and attached to a pert little bonnet, made of the same materials as her coat. She looked exquisitely elegant and every time she put the coat on, she hugged herself with happiness.

  She was prancing around her room, with the coat on and the muffler in her hands, unable to contain her exuberance, she burst out of her bedroom and ran down the stairs, meeting Mary in the hallway.

  ‘Oh! Mary, where is Lady Elizabeth?’ she asked brightly, her innocence so infectious at times.

  ‘She’s in the library, with Lord Audley.’ Mary said and looked worriedly at the door.

  ‘Jolly good!’ Sarah burst out and ran to the library door, throwing it open without a thought in the world.

  ‘Elizabeth?....’ she started and stopped abruptly, before she screamed. It was piercing and shrill. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded as her eyes took in the scene in front of her.

  Lady Elizabeth was trying desperately to staunch the blood running from her nose with her sleeve, and she was brandishing the fire iron at the man who was nursing his head and his groin at the same time. If looks could kill Sarah would have shrivelled up into a used spill on the carpet.

  ‘Get out!’ he shouted and started towards her.

  ‘Don’t you touch her!’ Elizabeth shouted from behind her forearm and waggled the iron again. ‘Or I’ll kill you. I told you to leave. I’m going to marry Robert Bosworth and I don’t care if you like it or not. You are not my keeper!’

  Sarah’s scream had alerted the male population of the house, including the Duke, who was working in his study down the hall. He ran up the corridor to see Mary standing outside the library hopping from one foot to the other.

  ‘Mary? What’s the matter?’ he asked. ‘I heard a scream.’ All Mary could do was point at the door. Argyll turned to look and was just in time to hear Elizabeth’s last statement.

  ‘What the devil is going on here?’ he demanded bringing six hundred years of ducal arrogance to bear as he looked down on Craanford. ‘What do you want, Craanford?’ he asked harshly.

  ‘I want what I’m due.’ He spat viciously.

  ‘I’d say the Lady is going to give you what you’re due if you don’t leave. Now, she has asked politely, if you don’t go, I will toss you out on your rump!’

  Craanford started to argue, but Argyll had had enough. He grabbed Craanford by the scruff of the neck, yanked him forward, getting his other hand between the tails of his very beautiful blue silk jacket, he clutched the slightly loose material of his silk britches between Craanford’s buttocks and hefted him onto his toes. In that position he frog marched him to the main front door, where the footman helpfully opened the doors and bowed his head as the Duke went past.

  Craanford was complaining and making threats and his raised voice attracted the attention of the strollers in the Square. Everybody that was within earshot turned and looked as Argyll got to the top of the steps and he literally threw Craanford down the wide, ornate, stone treads.

  ‘The lady has said no! Now you have your answer. Don’t come here again!’ The Duke of Goring said in the loud voice he used in the House. ‘If you do, I shall alert the magistrate!’

  Craanford rolled to the bottom of the steps and slowly he got to his feet. The look he gave Argyll was murderous, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to challenge the Duke, not in front of half of London.

  Argyll turned abruptly away and went back in the door. The footman closed the door softly. Argyll turned to him. ‘Never let him in the door again. Lady Elizabeth is never available to him.’

  ‘Yes, Your Grace.’ The footman said and nodded his head and Rogers arrived with Craanford’s hat and walking stick.

  ‘You can throw those out of the door too!’ he said. ‘Make sure all the other members of staff know.’ He shook his head and sighed. ‘If he should force his way in, send for the Bow Street Runners at once.’

  ‘Yes, Your Grace.’ And they watched Rogers throw the items down the steps to the road, where a horse kicked the hat halfway across the Square.

  After Argyll vanished with Craanford, Sarah sniggered. She couldn’t help it. ‘Did you see the look on his face?’ she asked and turned to Elizabeth, to watch her fold gracefully to the
floor. Her face white with shock. ‘Elizabeth!’ she called loudly and shot to her prostrate friend. Suddenly she realised she was wearing the coat for her wedding and in horror got it off her shoulders as quickly as possible. ‘Mary!’ she called and the maid arrived with alacrity. ‘Take this back to my room, before the Duke sees it properly.’ She said dismayed that he might see part of her wedding apparel before she arrives at the church. ‘I’ll see to Elizabeth.’ And as Mary ran from the room, Sarah sat on the floor and lifted Elizabeth’s shoulders onto her lap. She took out her very dainty handkerchief and wiped at the blood still running from her nose. She pinched the bridge of Elizabeth’s nose and was gratified to see it stop bleeding.

  ‘What did he do?’ Argyll asked softly from the door.

  ‘I don’t know John. But she was bleeding when I opened the door and he was holding his groin and his head. I suspect he became violent.’

  ‘The blackguard!’ Argyll said coldly as he arrived at the ladies. ‘If he’s not careful Robbie will call him out, when he gets here.’ Argyll gently lifted Elizabeth into his arms and carried her upstairs, followed by Sarah.

  ‘I can see that’s what will happen.’ Sarah said softly from behind him. ‘Robbie will do it as a matter of course.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope not.’ He went into Elizabeth’s suite and laid her carefully on the bed. Sarah poured a little water into the basin and whetted a flannel. She gently wiped Elizabeth’s face, making sure she got all the blood from around her nose and between her lips. Suddenly she screamed and Argyll yanked her into his arms, rocked her and made comforting noises. Eventually she quietened down and Mary arrived.

  ‘Be careful, Your Grace, she may vomit when she comes around.’ Mary said softly.

  ‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen her vomit.’ He said and laughed as he remembered the coach ride. ‘It was certainly explosive on the way back to London!’

  Elizabeth moaned and Argyll laid her back against the pillows. ‘Well, My Lady. It would appear that your would be suitor has departed. So, how do you feel?’

  ‘Not as bad as I usually do.’ She said and sighed. ‘I could do with a drink.’ And Sarah went for the decanter on the nightstand. She helped Elizabeth take a sip or two and then they just looked at her.

  ‘What did you do? Argyll asked in the end.

  Elizabeth smiled with satisfaction. ‘I took the greatest of pleasure telling him I was going to marry the Duke of Roding and he could go fishing!’ she said firmly. Then she laughed and all the colour flooded back into her face.

  ‘What was his reaction?’ Sarah asked impertinently.

  Elizabeth kept smiling. ‘He tried to take me, and as he got close I’m afraid I brought my knee up into his groin, just as Robert showed me.’ She giggled. ‘He did it the first week we were at Boscombe.’

  ‘He did too!’ Sarah said cheekily. ‘He took all three of us onto the terrace and showed us how to deal with an over amorous man!’

  ‘Then he became really affronted and violent and hit me with his fist, so I picked up the fire iron and hit him with it!’

  At that point Lady Verity arrived to voice her displeasure at the assault of one of her guests. ‘Who the devil does he think he is?’ she demanded.

  ‘Well, I think you’ll find half of London talking about him tomorrow. I threw him off the top step!’ Argyll said.

  Chapter 12 For As Long As You Both Shall Live

  The roads were muddy, the rain fell from the heavens in torrents and Robert was cold and wet. He dipped his head again and watched the waterfall off the brim of his hat, cascade over the front of his cloak. It had taken him three days to get to Boscombe and as he dismounted Mrs. Simmons had the door open.

  ‘Oh! Your Grace!’ she blurted. ‘What made you ride in such weather?’ she asked as Robert stumbled into the hall.

  ‘I was anxious to get to London. But this is appalling weather and I had to stop over somewhere.’ He took off his hat and cloak. Mrs. Simmons took them with frown.

  ‘I suppose you want them for tomorrow?’ she asked piqued.

  He gave her his most charming smile. ‘How could you possibly refuse me?’ he asked cheekily.

  ‘Well, you get yourself into the drawing room, there’s a nice fire in there and I’ll fetch you a housecoat so you can get the rest of your sodden clothes off!’ she said as she marched away.

  Robert went into the drawing room and there was a good blaze in the hearth. He poured himself a brandy and went to stand by the fire. Immediately he could see a cloud of steam rise from his britches. He shook his head and tried to get his boots off without sitting in the chair, but he was struggling.

  ‘Here, let me do that!’ Mrs. Simmons said as she came in with his best housecoat and a towel over her arm. ‘Sit on the stool there.’ She said pointing at the little wooden stool that she used when she was starting the fire. Turning her back on him, she stood over his outstretched leg, took a firm grip of the heel and yanked his boot off, she did his other one and then sighed. ‘I’ll take these and be back for the rest in a few minutes.’ She said and bustled out again.

  Robert stripped completely naked and slipped on the housecoat. It was made of blue cashmere wool and lined with red silk. It had Silk lapels and a silk sash in the same colour and was very warm. Robert dropped into the chair beside the fire and soaked up the heat, both from the flames and the brandy that was exploding in his stomach like a mortar. Absently he rubbed his hair with the towel as he stared into the flames.

  ‘You’re early, Your Grace.’ Mrs. Simmons said as she came back with a tray of hot tea. ‘I didn’t expect you for another week at least. Is everything all right?’

  ‘No, Mrs. Simmons. Everything is not all right.’ He said and accepted the cup of tea she handed him. ‘Apparently Lord Argyll had to expel the Earl of Craanford from his London residence.’ He sipped the hot beverage. ‘It appears that Lady Elizabeth had to defend herself again, so I’m really glad I took the time to show her how.’ He looked up at the compassionate face of his oldest employee. ‘I have to get back and marry her as soon as possible. Before that blackguard kills her, or worse, makes her take her own life.’

  ‘I can’t understand why he’s still trying?’ Mrs. Simmons said.

  ‘Because he thinks that Elizabeth will just comply with his wishes. He assumed that she was weak, because of the way Edward treated her. But she isn’t. And Audley doesn’t have the right to insist.’

  ‘I hope she’s alright, she was quite sickly those last two or three days here.’ Mrs. Simmons murmured.

  ‘Sickly?’ Robert asked abruptly. ‘What do you mean sickly? Sickly how?’ he demanded.

  ‘I’m sorry, Your Grace. Perhaps I spoke out of turn.’ She said guiltily.

  ‘Do you think she’s with child?’ he tried to ask evenly.

  Mrs. Simmons nodded her head unhappily. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything, because it will ruin her surprise for you, when she tells you.’

  ‘I shall be suitably surprised. But, are you sure?’

  ‘Oh! Yes! Your Grace. There is no doubt in my mind. Sick in the morning, fainting on the terrace and positively glowing with good health. She is definitely with child.’

  ‘God Damn!’ burst from him, along with the widest smile she’d ever seen. ‘Have a brandy Mrs. Simmons!’ he said and held out the bottle.

  ‘Just a small one for the celebration of life, Sir.’ She said happily and fetched another glass from the tray.

  Over the evening Robert consumed the whole bottle and eventually the groom had to help him up the stairs. The next morning his clothes were all dried and neatly pressed and hanging over the chair. A hot bath had been poured and the groom woke him gently.

  He bathed, soaking his shoulder. It was aching fit to burst, with all the rain. He looked out of the window as he was tying his cravat and it was still raining, but he would go anyway, it was only a few hours to London. Even in this type of weather he would be there by tea time at the latest.

&nbs
p; Mrs. Simmons gave him a large cooked breakfast, including a bowl of porridge. ‘Porridge!’ he blurted. She looked down on him kindly.

  ‘You can moan all you like. It’ll put hairs on your chest and help insulate you against the cold!’ she said and walked out haughtily.

  Robert ducked his head and tried the cereal. He didn’t like porridge, because it reminded him of the army. It had been a long time since he’d eaten any, but he dipped his spoon and was pleasantly surprised. Mrs. Simmons could make very nice porridge. He cleared his dish, much to Mrs. Simmons surprise, but she didn’t make any comment as she brought in the platter of bacon, eggs, sausages and fried bread.

  ‘Damn me! But are you feeding an army?’ Robert asked cheekily.

  ‘No. But you have a long way to go in the cold today, and I’ll not have Lady Elizabeth moan at me about how you came down with a fever!’

  ‘Are you happy here?’ Robert asked suddenly. ‘I know you requested to leave Roding Hall, but do you like it here?’

  ‘I like it very well, Sir.’ She said and smiled at him. ‘I don’t have so much to do, because the master doesn’t come here very often!’

  ‘That might change in the future.’ He said darkly. ‘I might have to come here, as it’s closer to London. My wife might insist on it.’ He said and then sat and thought about what he’d just said.My wife!He thought.Gosh, that sounds good. My wife!

  Mrs. Simmons correctly interpreted the expression on his face and quietly left the room.

  Robert finished his breakfast, donned his heavy cloak and hat, kissed Mrs. Simmons on the cheek and hauled himself up onto his horse. He took his time adjusting the cloak, to try and keep his saddle dry and then clicked his tongue and waved goodbye to Mrs. Simmons.

  The Duke of Goring opened his mail quickly and he was surprised the first letter was from Robbie.

  Dear John, I will be in London before the end of the week! Keep that blackguard away from Elizabeth or I will not be responsible for my actions!

  Forever in your debt,

  Robert Bosworth Esq., Duke of Roding. The letter was dated four days previously and even Argyll knew in this rain that it would only take four days at the most for Robbie to get here. He stood up and went to find Elizabeth.