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

by Anne Gallagher

  “On our last trip there was a nip in the air, which is what brought about my malaise. The weather is fine these days together and summer will be upon us before we know it.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I wish you would reconsider coming with me. ‘Twould be nothing to tack the carriage.”

  “If that I could.” She smiled. “I’m sure I would delay you, with packing and traveling. And then you would feel the need to keep me company. No, I think you should do well with Brunswick. Although again, thank you kindly for the invitation.”

  He nodded and finished off his brandy. “I believe I shall retire now, Fiona. Although the journey is short, I should like to leave early as planned.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said and rose with him.

  “You do not have to go as well. ‘Tis only half-eight.”

  “I shall walk you up. Perhaps I shall read in bed.”

  As they climbed the stairs, Fiona’s knees shook and she wondered if she would dare to ask Robert the question that had formed when he told her of his departure that afternoon.

  At her door, he brought her hand to his lips. “Good-night, Fiona. I shall make it a point to see you before my departure.”

  As he stepped away, Fiona held fast to his fingers. “Robert…” ‘Twas only the second, or third time in their short marriage she had used his given name and it felt funny on her lips.

  He waited.

  “I do not know if I may even ask this of you,” she faltered. How could she pose such a question?

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Would you care to join me? Tonight? In my bed? I know this is highly unusual and I’m not quite sure what I’m even asking, but I do think that I would like to lay with you.” It all came out in a rush, and the look that crossed Robert’s face was pure astonishment. Oh, she had made a mess of it all again. How does one ask to have relations with one’s husband?

  “I…” he began then stopped. He brought his hand to her face and cupped her cheek.

  He would refuse and Fiona felt foolish for even thinking of it.

  “Why do not you get ready for bed and I shall join you in a few minutes,” he said.

  Elation marked with panic encapsulated her. He must have somehow known because he leaned down and kissed her. “’Twill be all right,” he murmured.

  Fiona backed into her chamber and closed the door. She had given Merry the night off so she wouldn’t bear witness to Fiona’s request of Robert. The idea was ponderous enough without having anyone see her make a fool of herself. However, in forethought, the gown she chose to wear to dinner that evening was easy to remove. Taking the remainder of her garments off, she placed them in the armoire and slipped her cotton flannel over her head. She then stoked the fire, climbed into bed and waited for Robert.

  The door that separated her room from the sitting room opened and Robert stepped in. Wearing a long dressing gown, his bare feet padded across the floor. He took off his robe and Fiona gasped. He was naked underneath, save for a pair of cotton drawers.

  Climbing into bed, he looked into her eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “Yes,” she whispered and fought down her rising apprehension.

  “Then blow out the candle,” he said.

  Fiona did as asked and waited.

  “Come here, closer to me.”

  Robert lay on the pillow, and she nestled into his arms. Her head lay on his shoulder, his breath warm on her cheek, her hand splayed across his chest. She never should have stoked the fire as the heat Robert exuded was an inferno. His hand caressed her hair away from her face. He leaned down and brushed her lips with his.

  “Good-night, Fiona.”

  “Good-night, Robert.”

  He continued to stroke her hair, but there were no more kisses. She waited for what seemed an eternity for him to move, to touch her in some other way, but he did not. Eventually, the movement of his hand on her hair stopped and she heard the sound of his breathing, even and heavy. He had fallen asleep.

  What had happened? How could he have fallen asleep? She didn’t understand, yet didn’t want to wake him to ask. He had an early start to the day tomorrow. Perhaps he hadn’t fully comprehended what she’d asked of him. But that was absurd. Of course he knew. Then why?

  The annulment.

  The realization of what his affections and attentions meant during this last week slammed into her. They were all for show. He needed her to perform for his dinner party. And what a better way to act the part of doting wife than to have her think he was a doting husband. Robert hated scandal and with her last round quietly forgotten by the papers, he wanted the world to think they’d finally gotten over their troubles and he’d allowed Society to see them for the loving couple they appeared to be. Lies, all lies.

  She shifted and tried to move as far away from him in the bed as possible. She managed to roll over and put her back up against his body, but his arm slid around her waist and held her fast. She heard his heavy sigh. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks and she wondered how long it would take before she cried herself to sleep.

  *****

  Robert lay in the darkness, Fiona settled against him. He’d pretended sleep, hoping she would cease her fidgeting. He could only imagine her body through the thin cotton that separated them and couldn’t help his growing ardor. He prayed she wouldn’t feel it.

  When she had asked him to lay with her, he’d almost refused. But then, she would have been given another rebuff from him and with all he had accomplished this last week, he did not want to lose her again.

  Warm and smelling so sweet, he shifted uncomfortably against her bottom. Good night! What had he been thinking? He would never sleep now. It took every ounce of energy to remain still and keep his hand from roaming her body. His fingers were mere twitches away from her breasts and he wanted to hold them, feel them, bring them to their peak. Kissing her at her door these last nights had been physical torture for him. He could feel her sexual fire being ignited. How he wanted to fan that flame, and here was his chance, yet he feigned sleep.

  Lady Olivia’s words haunted him. Fiona was still a child in that way and he mustn’t do anything to scare or hurt her. He wasn’t even sure if she knew what she’d asked of him. Passion hid underneath her fiery façade, and he wanted to take his time with her, show her she matched his appetite without frightening her. The night of the humiliating eye debacle, before he’d smashed her with his elbow, had shown him she would be his equal in bed. He wanted to nurture her passion, let it grow so that it consumed them both.

  Fiona was a mystery, she was complex, and she called to him from some depth of time long forgotten. He hadn’t understood why he’d agreed to marry her that day. Yes, there was honor, and pride, and the scandal, but underneath it was more than that. Much more. It was as if something in her soul beckoned to him with a song meant only for his ears. And soon they would make their own melody.

  He listened to the sounds she made, and smiled when he realized she was snoring. He pulled her closer and relaxed. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

  Dawn arrived and Robert slipped out of bed before Fiona awoke. Loathe to leave her, he wanted to wake her with a kiss and perhaps a ….well, he would like to, but he could not. That was not the way he wanted their first time together to be, with a quick good-morning and then off he went. No, their first time should be something special. A lingering of the bliss they would share. Perhaps when he returned.

  He went to his rooms and dressed, Brunswick would be here any minute and Robert needed a cup of coffee before the journey. He hated to wake Fiona to say good-bye, but knew she would be upset if he didn’t. He’d wait until after his coffee.

  Downstairs, Edwards had already shown Brunswick into the breakfast room.

  “’Tis a hellish morning, you know,” his brother-in-law said when Robert entered the room. “I thought we would have some fine weather to ride, but fog and rain have settled in. Are you sure you do not wish to take t
he carriage?”

  “My mother needs the carriage, John,” Robert said. “I could not leave her without.”

  “Are you not the Duke of Cantin? I’m sure you have half a dozen in the mews.”

  “Since when are you afraid of a little rain? Are you not the man who once rode London to Glasgow through a hurricane?”

  “Deuce take it, Cantin, I do not wish to be sitting on wet leather for four hours together. Let us take the carriage and then we’ll send it back.”

  “We shall ride, John. Now let me go upstairs to say good-bye to Fiona. I shan’t be a minute.”

  Upstairs in her room, Robert placed the covers gently up to her neck, and then sat beside her.

  “I’m going now, Fiona,” Robert said softly. “I did not mean to wake you, but I thought I might say good-bye.”

  Fiona opened her eyes.

  “Now, do try and be a good girl while I’m gone,” he said lightly, brushing a curl away from her forehead. “I do not wish to see your name in the gossip columns again.”

  “Do not worry,” she whispered. “Your mother will not allow me to be foolish.”

  Was that a tear in her eye? How sweet. “No, of course not.” He smiled and then leaned down and kissed her. “I will try and return with all due haste.” He kissed her again. “Now go back to sleep.” He kissed her again.

  “Cantin!” Brunswick called to him from the bottom of the stairs.

  “I really must go.” He kissed her one last time and left.

  As they set off through the damp streets of London, Robert was touched Fiona would be upset at his leaving. When he came home, it would be time for a real night of passion.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  During the first week Robert was away, Fiona had trouble concentrating. Conversations were one-sided, balls were a bore and she departed early. She forgot Penny’s at-home afternoon, and worst of all, made a disaster of the seating arrangements for the party.

  Lady Joanna laughed when she saw Fiona had placed the Earl of Douchester next to the Duke of Lumbley.

  “Dearest,” she’d said, “we must never place Douchester next to Lumbley. They are both deaf as a dust bin and shout at each other all night long.”

  Fiona wanted to cry, she’d never get the seating done correctly, even with Lady Joanna’s help. Studying the arrangements from the household book had brought no easy fixes, even when she found two or three of the same names. Precedence gave her a headache. And though she wanted to place Penny and Amanda beside her, she knew she could not. Haverlane was to her left, and the Duke of Hemmings to her right.

  “My lady,” Edwards said from the door to the banquet room where Fiona had ensconced herself.

  “Yes, Mr. Edwards.” Fiona looked up. Perhaps he could help her with the seating.

  “A package has come for you,” he said and brought it to the table.

  “A package?” She looked at the script and didn’t recognize it. Cumbersome, she had trouble opening the wrapping.

  “Allow me,” Edwards said and produced a small pocket knife, whereupon he cut the string.

  Fiona removed the paper and found a medium sized wooden case and two letters. The box looked very familiar, but it couldn’t possibly be what she thought it was.

  “Would you care for tea?” Edwards asked.

  “Yes, Mr. Edwards, that would be lovely, thank you. However, I do believe I shall move into the library, if I may. I will only be in the way of the staff if I remain here.”

  Fiona gathered the case and letters and settled on the chaise in front of the fireplace.

  Slipping her finger under the wax of the first letter, she found a note from a solicitor by the name of Hamish Murray. They held the sum of five hundred pounds in reserve for her as part of her dowry and would be delighted to meet with her at her earliest convenience.

  She opened the second letter and a small key slipped out. Holding it, she read –

  Fiona,

  I have been recently ill, meeting the mighty Arawn in my dreams more nights than I care to say, which has led me to think deeply over the course of my years. With your mother’s passing, I blamed you and should not have. ‘Twas an accident. I hope you can forgive an old fool.

  You were a true and devoted daughter when I did not deserve it. I blamed you for all my unhappiness, and it was unjustly placed. Your mother’s fondest wish had been for you to marry the Cantin heir, and seizing on the opportunity, I forced you into the marriage. I have heard tales you are not happy and have taken it upon myself to give you the legacy, which your dear mother wanted you to have. I hope they will bring you comfort. Forgive me, Fiona. You were a good daughter.

  His words brought tears to her eyes, and that is how Edwards found her when he brought in the tea tray.

  “Your ladyship, are you all right?”

  “Yes, Mr. Edwards, perfectly well, thank you. Just old memories, which caught me by surprise, ‘tis all.”

  Overwhelmed, Fiona brushed away her tears and slid the letter back into the envelope. She waited until Edwards quit the room before she opened the case. Inside lay her mother’s jewelry. Tears sprang to her eyes again. She ran her fingers through the pearl choker, lovingly picked up the brooch of cloisonné birds she had played with as a child, and tried on the sapphire ring. There were bracelets and other rings in smaller boxes in the bottom of the case. How could she ever thank her father. This was such a thoughtful gesture, she couldn’t fathom how he had decided to let go of any piece of her mother, especially to her. Placing the gifts back in the velvet lined box, she caught a whiff of her mother’s perfume. Oh, to have her mother with her for just five minutes together. She would tell Fiona what to do about Robert.

  Three days later, Fiona met with Mr. Hamish Murray, Esq. Her newfound title of the Duchess of Cantin brought a solemnity to their discussions that Fiona didn’t think she would have found being the Earl of Stewart’s daughter. Although, being the Earl of Stewart’s daughter proved kinship with his clan and brought an unspoken loyalty to the table.

  While it was true Robert was entitled to her dowry, as Fiona explained the circumstances surrounding her marriage and the subsequent annulment, Mr. Murray became quite vexed and assured her, duke or no, Cantin would not be receiving any of her small fortune. There were ways around the law, and Murray promised he knew them all.

  Pleased with the outcome of the meeting, Fiona felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She no longer had to worry about what would happen to her when Robert dissolved their marriage. She needn’t have to bother finding another husband to take care of her. She would never trust another man as long as she lived. Whatever game Robert played, she could play just as well. Her father may have been a cruel and contemptible man, but he had shown her how to be strong in the face of adversity.

  No matter how much she had come to depend upon Robert, she could now take care of herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Riding back into London, Robert’s first thoughts were of a bath and a decent meal. Throughout the days he had been gone, Fiona’s presence in his mind was constant. He longed to take her in his arms and hold her. He didn’t realize how much he yearned for the sight of her until he spied Cantin House.

  Edwards met him at the door. “Welcome home, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you, Edwards. It is very good to be home. How do you do?” he asked as he handed his butler his gloves and whip.

  Edwards raised an eyebrow. “Very well, Your Grace, thank you for asking.”

  “Have you any idea where I might find my wife?” At half-two in the afternoon, it was anybody’s guess.

  “She is lunching at Caymore House with your mother.”

  Well, he supposed he couldn’t have expected her to wait at home and greet him on his return, especially as he hadn’t sent word when that would be. “Do you know her plans after luncheon? I should like to see her.”

  “I’m afraid she has a great schedule, Your Grace. Luncheon, a poetry reading this afternoon,
dinner at Lady Berringbourne’s and then Lord and Lady Barrymore’s ball.”

  “I see,” he said. He had no desire to gad about Town looking for her. He had no wish for poetry, couldn’t upset Lady Berringbourne’s table so he may as well wait until the Barrymore’s. “Very well. Could you enquire if Cook has anything decent to feed me. And then I should like to bathe and will work in my study.”

  “Very good, Your Grace.” Edwards left Robert standing in the front hall.

  God how he missed his wife.

  *****

  Fiona stood next to Amanda and Penny at the Barrymore’s, their husbands markedly absent. Robert’s dinner party invitations had set the members of Parliament ablaze and the men were all congregated in the Barrymore library discussing the benefits and pitfalls of Robert’s legislation. A surprisingly hot topic, the MP’s could see the merits of the bill, but could not decide whether to place taxpayer monies into the fund or use private donations. The tax base was burdened enough with the Regent’s grandiosity and his far-fetched ideas of how to spend the Monarchy’s money, not to mention Boney’s wars still raging all across the continent.

  Fiona had waited for some kind of word from Robert and it annoyed her exceedingly at luncheon when she found Brunswick and Robert were to return that very day. Phyllis had been at Penny’s and told Fiona she had had a letter from Brunswick informing her.

  “You had a letter from Brunswick?” Fiona had asked.

  “Oh, yes, nearly every day,” Phyllis said. “John gives the impression he is all bluster and bluff, but underneath he is a very romantic soul.”

  Fiona nearly choked on her aspic. Robert hadn’t penned once, even to let her know he’d arrived at Cantin Park. Why would she think he would tell her of his return?

  No matter, she had come to a new resolve in her relationship. She would play the part of Robert’s duchess, and after their ball, she would leave him. The money from her dowry would be in the bank waiting for her, and she could quietly escape London and all Robert’s restrictions. Abandonment would look much better on the annulment papers rather than fraud.