The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV)

by Anne Gallagher

  “Darling, you are doing yourself and Fiona a great disservice. I think it would behoove you to get to know her better, and to try to keep the marriage intact. You did marry her for better or worse. As for not being raised to become a duchess, there are ways around that. I would like nothing better than to show her the ways of the ton, as well as Olivia. As for knowing none of the finer elements of Society, I know several upstanding women who care not a jot for the pianoforte, or singing, or drawing. Please, Robert, you must think about your plan.”

  “I have, Mother, I have. Fiona and I have discussed it at length. We had ample time on our journey from Scotland. Truth to tell, Mother, she does not like me very much. She believes me to be interested only in money. I cannot help think, even through all her protestations otherwise, she somehow had an inkling of what her father planned and fell into his trap, whether it was consciously done or not. No, Mother, Fiona and I do not suit, and I will not stay married to her for one second longer than is absolutely necessary.” Robert waited for the next protest.

  “What is the story you will tell through Society of how you met?” Lady Olivia asked. “Surely, you cannot say her father had a hand in it. You will become a laughingstock at your age. And I dare say you cannot reveal your plan on an annulment. She will be cast down.”

  “No, what I have shared with you is between us. I owed you the truth, Mother. I do not wish you to have any notions on becoming attached to Fiona. Think of her as a ward to our house if you will. The story we will spread among our friends is that we fell in love over the course of my time in Scotland. As we were in Scotland, we married. In six months time, our annulment will come as no great surprise. My friends know I am not spontaneous by nature and will assume I made a mistake.”

  “I see you have thought this through very carefully, my son.” His mother’s voice held the same tone when he was a boy and had done something to disappoint her.

  “Yes, I have given this great thought. I have no wish to hurt Fiona, or you, which is why I told you the truth right away. When all is said and done, Fiona will have made a very good bargain. She will have gowns, jewels, and money, and will be able to do exactly as she wishes with the rest of her life.” Robert took up his pocket-watch and noted the time. “Ladies, if you will excuse me, I have several things I must attend. Lady Olivia, as always, a great pleasure to see you.” He bent and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Mother, I shall see you later this afternoon.”

  Robert left the women feeling very pleased they had taken the news as well as they did. He had no remorse in his dealings with Fiona. He had been truthful with her from the start. She had no reason to think there would be any more to their marriage than a contract.

  Chapter Five

  Fiona’s outing with Lady Penny left her feeling like a princess. Having made her own clothes for years, being fitted for a silk gown was an extraordinary pleasure, one she would never get over. The luxurious cloth shimmered over her skin and for the first time in her life, she felt a wicked wanton pleasure. Madame Rochelle clucked and fussed with the pins. Taking in the deep burgundy had been a challenge, for Fiona’s waist was so small, yet her legs were long and slender. A nip here, a tuck there, the gown was perfect, although according to the modiste, it did not hang as well as it ought.

  Fiona bought three gowns, and Madame Rochelle promised she would have several others made up and sent to the house on St. Martin Street by the end of the week. Fiona was pleased Penny was with her to make decisions on color. Fiona had always worn wool in Scotland and her cloth had always been dark, to match her hair. Here, in London, the yards of fabrics laid out across the table made her dizzy. Blues to match every shade of the sky, greens, deep and verdant, purples ranging from violet to aubergine, and every tint of rose imaginable had Fiona longing for a gown in each color. But Penny laid aside the lighter hues and concentrated on the deeper tones.

  Penny giggled when Fiona emerged from the dressing room wearing a deep sapphire afternoon gown. “Robert will hardly recognize you.”

  Fiona hardly recognized herself. Gone was the dowdy spinster dressed in plain woolsy and in her place a fashionable young woman befitting her new station of duchess. Fiona stood a little straighter.

  After Madame Rochelle’s, they descended upon a milliner where Fiona purchased two hats, a cobbler who sold her a lovely pair of deep blue dancing slippers and took measurements for half boots and two more pair of slippers, and another dressmaker shop where she bought a ready-made cape in black velvet.

  Famished after the outing, Fiona declined an invitation to dine with Penny. She thought she should return to Cantin House. She felt foolish standing at the front door, but didn’t know whether to knock or walk in. Edwards opened the door before she could raise her hand.

  “Yes,” he said. Clearly, he did not recognize her.

  “Mr. Edwards, we met this morning,” Fiona said. “I am the Duke of Cantin’s new wife.”

  Edwards blanched as he stepped back into the foyer, opening the door wide. “Forgive me, your ladyship. I did not recognize you.”

  Fiona smiled at him. “Truthfully, Mr. Edwards, when I first saw myself at the modiste, I did not recognize myself either.”

  Edwards bowed and helped her off with her new cape, and waited for her gloves.

  “Tell me, has luncheon been served?” she asked the butler. “I must confess I did not realize shopping would leave me completely ravenous.”

  “Lady Cantin is in the dining room now if you would like to join her.”

  She looked down the long corridor having no idea where the dining room was.

  Edwards said, “If you would like to follow me, your ladyship.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Edwards. That is very kind of you.”

  When she entered the dining room, she found Robert’s mother alone at a long formally set table. Not knowing where to sit, she stood, unsure of her place.

  Lady Joanna looked her up and down. Fiona could tell the woman had no idea who she was.

  “Forgive me, Lady Cantin. I have no wish to disturb you. Mr. Edwards said you were dining and having just arrived from my outing with Lady Penny, I thought to join you if I may.

  “Fiona, dearest,” Lady Joanna said with a tone that could not hide her surprise, “is it really you? That gown has simply changed your entire countenance. I’m so glad you are back,” his mother said. “Come, come sit down, and lunch with me. Tell me all about your trip to the modiste. I’m glad we have this time alone. I long to become better acquainted.”

  Fiona steadied her nerves, crossed to the front of the room and took a seat to the left of her new mother-in-law. A footman brought her a bowl of soup. Fiona stared at all the utensils on the sides of the place setting. In Scotland, her father and she ate at the wooden plank table in the kitchen with one fork, knife, and spoon. Here, there were a dozen spread out in front of her, not to mention the various glasses and small plates surrounding the entire sphere of where she sat.

  She looked at Lady Joanna, who placed her finger on the third spoon to her right.

  “Now, tell me dearest,” the duchess said. “How did you find Madam Rochelle’s? That gown certainly becomes you. Did Penny help you choose the color? She has such glorious taste in fabrics. I hope you did not choose all your outfits from Madame Rochelle, as I know my own modiste would love to create something for you.”

  Fiona ate her soup while Lady Joanna talked, and talked, and talked. Fiona answered her new mother-in-law’s questions about her shopping excursion, grateful she didn’t pose any about her and Robert. She had no idea how she would answer.

  During the fish course Lady Joanna said, “Forgive me for raising the idea of a family dinner party this morning. ‘Twas my first reaction to want to introduce you to the rest of the family. Of course, now that you are Robert’s wife, I’m sure you shall be writing your own invitations.”

  “Lady Cantin, I should like it if you would forgive me. It is not that I did not want to have a dinner party, o
nly that I had nothing suitable to wear. I do not wish to embarrass my husband or you, upon meeting the rest of the family. I’m afraid I am like the contents of this plate, a fish out of water.”

  “Nonsense, my dear, you are charming and beautiful. My daughters will love you on the spot. Perhaps if you wish, I could invite them on the morrow for a small breakfast. It would be easier meeting them without their husbands, or the occasion of a dinner. Breakfast is much more relaxing, do you not think so?”

  “Yes, Lady Cantin, I think breakfast would be lovely for a first meeting. Thank you.”

  “Dearest, please, you must call me Mother. I’ll not have you addressing me as Lady Cantin, or Lady Joanna. We are family now.”

  Mother. It had been so long since she had said the word. Her throat closed and Fiona batted her eyelashes to keep the unbidden tears from falling.

  “Oh, no. I have upset you.” Lady Joanna’s hand reached for hers across the table. “Robert told me of your mother’s accident, dearest. If it is too painful for you to think of me as your mother, then by all means, Joanna will do quite nicely.”

  Fiona squeezed her mother-in-law’s fingers. “You are too kind. Perhaps after I find my way through the next weeks I will come up with something suitable. I am so overwhelmed with all that has happened. It is not every day a girl is swept off her feet in such a manner.” That much was true. Fiona was having trouble processing the fact she lived in London now, married to the Duke of Cantin. Once it was made known at the modiste and milliner shops who she was, Fiona had never seen such bowing and scraping in all her life. Penny assured her, she would be known all over Town within a matter of hours.

  “Whatever you wish to call me would be fine,” Lady Joanna said. “Not to change the subject, but have you given thought to a lady’s maid? You shall need one now. And we must introduce you to the staff. You will take my place now as mistress of Cantin House.”

  “No. Please, I beg you. Do not leave,” Fiona gushed. “I have no idea what to do. This is all so new to me. I do not wish to embarrass Lord Cantin, and….” Fiona stopped, horrified at what she had exposed. She and Robert were supposed to be a loving couple. Would Lady Joanna take the referral to her husband’s title as a newlywed’s inexperience?

  “Fiona,” Lady Joanna said in a serious tone. “I shall teach you all there is to know about being a duke’s wife. ‘Tis a bit complicated at first, but once you have given your first dinner party, there is nothing to it.” Her voice lessened to a whisper. “Truthfully, the servants do all the work. You just tell them what you would like.”

  Fiona smiled. She liked her new mother-in-law very much.

  They finished with luncheon, and Robert’s mother introduced her to the servants. She was appointed a lady’s maid from one of the upstairs maids for the time being. The girl, Merry, was thrilled with the prospect.

  Lady Joanna took her for a tour around the mansion, and then showed her to her rooms.

  “I know what an exhausting day you have had, my dear. You should rest, perhaps sleep. I’m sure Robert will not be back until dinner, which is at seven o’clock. We will not be so formal this evening, so whichever frock you choose to wear will be fine. Merry will be there to help you, she is a good girl, and will answer any questions you may have.” Her mother-in-law kissed her cheek. “I shall see you at dinner then.”

  Fiona entered her new room. Pale cream wallpaper adorned the walls. Yellow velvet curtains hung from the large windows. She walked to the doorway on the wall across from the bed. It was a dressing room. Her trunk had been brought up, the clothes from Scotland hung in the armoire alongside her new purchases from Madame Rochelle. Through another doorway, a water closet with a private tub. Fiona was stunned. In Scotland, she had to boil her own water, and haul her own tub up to her bedchamber when she wanted a bath. Here, it was built right into its own room.

  Back in her bedroom, she noticed another door on the opposite wall. She opened it and found a sitting room decorated in shades of dusty rose. A small settee, a chaise, and a small escritoire were the only furniture. And another door on the far wall had her curious. The house was like a giant maze. She opened the door and found a very masculine bedchamber decorated with heavy mahogany furniture and a huge four-poster bed. Obviously, Robert’s room. She stepped back and shut the door quickly. Not that she didn’t believe Robert when he said he wouldn’t visit her at night, but one never knew. The question remained would she allow him in?

  Merry was waiting for her when she returned to her own room.

  “Lady Cantin said you would like to rest now. Let me help you with your gown. Shall I brush out your hair as well?”

  “Brush out my hair?” Fiona could not believe what the girl was asking.

  “Yes, of course, my lady. You do not wish to sleep with it coiled, do you? Before you dress for dinner, I can put it up for you in whichever manner you wish. I have been told I’m very good with hair.” The girl seemed to know more about living in high society than she did.

  “Yes, of course. That would be lovely.”

  Fiona let Merry take over. She said nothing as the girl helped her off with her gown, and then brushed her hair. Climbing into the huge bed with the pretty, yellow coverlet, Fiona hadn’t realized how exhausted she was. It overwhelmed her and before Merry had finished hanging up her gown, Fiona was asleep.

  “Lady Fiona? Lady Fiona? Would you like to wake now?”

  Fiona heard someone calling to her and opened her eyes. Surprised, she sat up in bed. It took three seconds before she realized where she was. Her maid, Merry, stood holding a tray.

  “I took the liberty of bringing you a cup of hot chocolate. It always helps me when I need to waken. I hope you do not mind.”

  Fiona sat upright and took the cup. She smelled its delicious aroma and took a tentative sip. Nectar from the gods.

  “What did you say this was?”

  Merry looked at her, surprised. “Hot chocolate, my lady. Have you never had it before?”

  “No, I cannot say I have.”

  “If you wish, I can bring you a cup every morning, if that is agreeable to you.”

  “Yes, by all means. That is very agreeable, thank you.”

  “Have you decided what gown you should like to wear to dinner this evening?” Merry asked, heading for the dressing room.

  “The dark purple I think,” Fiona said. She wanted to look nice for Cantin on her first night in his house. ‘Twas the least she could do considering he had allowed her to buy the gowns in the first place.

  Merry helped her with the gown, and then did her hair in a lovely up-style with ringlets cascading down her back.

  “Is that really me?” Fiona stood and gaped at her reflection in the cheval glass.

  “Yes, my lady. And may I say you look very beautiful this evening.”

  Fiona smiled at her new companion. “Thank you so much for all your help, Merry. I think you and I will rub along nicely together.”

  Fiona glanced at the little ormolu clock on her dressing table. She had plenty of time before dinner, but no desire to wait in her room. Perhaps Lady Cantin would be somewhere downstairs.

  Fiona descended the staircase at the front of the house and found Edwards in the hall.

  “Mr. Edwards, could you tell me if Lady Cantin is downstairs yet?”

  “She is with His Grace in the green parlour, Lady Fiona. If you would follow me.”

  Fiona tempered her nerves and followed the butler to the doors of the green parlour. She swallowed tightly as he opened the door. “Lady Fiona,” he said, and bowed out of her way.

  Fiona walked into the room and found Lady Cantin smiling at her. Cantin stood near the mantle, a strange expression on his face.

  “Fiona, how beautiful you look this evening,” Lady Joanna said. “And your hair is lovely. I knew Merry would be a perfect match with you.” She turned to her son. “Robert, does not Fiona look enchanting this evening?”

  Fiona waited for him to say something. He did no
t. Perhaps he did not like the new gown, or her hair this way. Well, she was sorry to disappoint him, but not knowing any better, she had no idea how she was supposed to look.

  “Robert, I say, does not Fiona look enchanting this evening?” his mother asked again.

  Robert had trouble meeting her eyes. “Yes, very lovely, Mother,” he choked out.

  Chapter Six

  Robert strode into his house at half-five, bearing the well wishes of his friends from his clubs. He made the rounds to break the news himself, but it had already broken. It seemed William’s minx of a wife had sent him a note before she took Fiona on their shopping excursion that morning, and William, gossipmonger that he was, could not keep the news to himself.

  He laid the groundwork of the concocted story to all his cronies and they were surprised, but not very much. Davingdale said he knew it would happen this way. Robert was too staid for any of the girls in their society and it would take an exceptional woman to snare his hand in matrimony. Robert prayed Fiona’s trip to the modiste had been successful. He did not wish to have his friend’s wonder how he could have fallen for such a mousy creature.

  Robert was in good humor as he dressed, and made his way downstairs to the parlour. He found his mother sipping a sherry as he entered the green salon. Being the dutiful son, he kissed her on the cheek.

  “How are you this evening, Mother? Did you have a pleasant day?”

  “Very well, thank you. And you?”

  “Very well. It seems the news of my nuptials has already set tongues wagging.”

  “As you knew it would, my dear.”