Christmas with the Duchess

by Tamara Lejeune

  “What is it you want from me, Harry?” Emma asked quietly.

  “I was just thinking,” he muttered. “If you were to marry again, there would be no question of a dower portion. Have you…have you ever thought of marrying again?”

  He looked at her sheepishly.

  “I have, as a matter of fact,” said his mother.

  “You have?” Harry was delighted. “I wouldn’t ask you to go to London, of course,” he went on quickly. “You would not want to be in competition with a bunch of silly young debutantes.”

  “No, indeed. It wouldn’t be fair to the debutantes.”

  “I have someone in mind for you. You wouldn’t want to go through a lot of courtship and nonsense, after all.”

  Emma folded her arms and looked at him with stern frown. “What do you mean, you have someone in mind for me? That is presumptuous, Henry Fitzroy.”

  “Oh, but he’s someone you like, Mama. At least, I think you like him. He’s practically a member of the family. He is a bit younger than you, I suppose. I’m not really sure how old he is. But I’m sure he will suit.”

  “He is twenty-two,” Emma said, amused. “And he will suit very well.”

  Harry grinned at her. “You do like him, then? Good. I suppose we’ve only known him a couple of years, but it seems longer, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Emma agreed.

  Harry knelt at her feet, taking her hands in his. “Does this mean you’ll do it, Mama?”

  “For you, Harry,” she told him gravely. “I’ll do it for you.”

  “Thank you, Mama,” he said, throwing his arms around her and hugging her fiercely. “I—I’ll let you have your bath now,” he added, his nose wrinkling.

  “Thank you, Harry,” she said.

  “We’ll make the announcement at dinner,” he said, “if that’s all right.”

  “I must speak to Grey first, of course,” Emma replied, “but I don’t see why not.”

  He went out quietly, closing the door.

  “Did you think it would be so easy?” Nicholas asked, sliding out from under the bed.

  “I confess I did not. It must be a Christmas miracle,” Emma said, beginning to laugh.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was six-thirty in the evening when Lord Ian Monteith and his wife arrived at Warwick. The Westphalia had been made ready for him.

  “That will never do,” Lady Ian said indignantly. “Not for a married man, Carstairs.”

  “No, indeed, Lady Ian,” Carstairs readily agreed.

  “We must have a suite! The St. Petersburg, I suppose, is occupied?”

  “Yes, Lady Ian. By their graces, the Duke and Duchess of Chilton.”

  Lady Ian’s dark eyes sharpened. “But their graces must be quitting it soon,” she said shrewdly. “They will be leaving for Chilton within a day or two, I should think. I rather wonder at their being here now! You may put us in Westphalia, for now, Carstairs,” she decided. “But Lord Ian and I will move to St. Petersburg when the Chiltons quit it.”

  Carstairs coughed gently. “I fear, Lady Ian, that Lord Camford is to take the St. Petersburg tomorrow, when their graces depart.”

  Lady Ian gaped at him in astonishment. “Lord Camford? Lord Camford! Lord, what is he doing here? Never mind! We shall go straight to the drawing room. You may announce us, Carstairs.”

  “Should we not take the baby to the nursery ourselves?” Monty said.

  Lady Ian frowned at him. “Lord, why? The servants will look after him. Announce us, Carstairs. Lord, I cannot wait to see the looks on their faces!”

  “The family are not assembled in the drawing room at this hour, Lady Ian,” Carstairs apologized.

  Lady Ian pouted. “No, of course not,” she said crossly. “They will be dressing for dinner. Come, Monty. We must dress for dinner, too. I suppose Westphalia will have to do for now. We must not be late for dinner. Not too late, anyway,” she added with a laugh. “We will want to make an entrance, naturally. I believe I will wear my yellow satin, with my amethyst parure. Thank you, Carstairs. I know the way.”

  Colin was in his dressing room, studying his cravat in the cheval glass. Bored by the effect, he frantically motioned to his valet to start over. The offending neckwear had just been removed, when he heard Lady Harriet’s voice in the next room, his bedroom.

  “Just set me down here, boys. Mind the arm, Mr. Carter!”

  “Yes, Aunt Harriet. Thank you, Aunt Harriet.”

  “Wait outside,” she commanded her adolescent slaves as Colin strolled out of his dressing room.

  Lady Harriet was in a foul temper. “Why didn’t you tell me your Scotsman was coming?” she demanded. “You didn’t even tell me you’d invited him!”

  Colin was appalled. “Monty! Monty is here?”

  “He only just arrived. Didn’t you know?” She looked at him curiously. “He’s brought a Lady Ian with him, too. I’ve not seen her yet, but I caught a glimpse of the baby as it was being whisked off to the nursery.”

  “He’s married?” Colin snorted. “And with a baby, too! What a hypocrite!”

  “So you didn’t invite him,” Lady Harriet said, grunting with satisfaction. “Well, hurry up! Get yourself together. I want to get a look at this Lady Ian.”

  “She isn’t likely to be anyone we know,” said Colin. But he went obediently back into his dressing room to finish his cravat.

  They went down together, Lady Harriet on her throne and Colin on foot. They arrived at the lounge almost simultaneously with the Duke and Duchess of Chilton. The Duke of Warwick and his friends had already taken over the room. They made a loud, boisterous group at the fireside while Lord Camford stood quietly in the corner.

  Lady Harriet directed her boys to set her down in a spot commanding an excellent view of the doorway. She sat with her lorgnette at the ready.

  “You may go.” Colin dismissed the boys. “I’ll look after the old harpy.”

  “Has anyone seen her?” Cecily inquired. “Lady Ian, I mean? We saw the baby in the nursery before we came down. He has no hair and he’s called Charles. I think he must be about Mimi’s age,” she added.

  Colin shrugged to show his complete disinterest. He went to join Nicholas in the corner.

  “You’re very late this evening, Mama,” Harry complained as his mother came into the room. He seemed completely oblivious to the way his friends all stopped talking at once and regarded the duchess, openmouthed.

  “Well, I’m here now,” Emma answered, smiling as she took his arm. “But I see we are still waiting for Lord Ian and his wife, so I’m afraid you must wait a little longer.”

  “Lord Ian’s not married, Mama,” Harry told her. “If he were, it might excuse his tardiness,” he added impatiently. “Why can we never have dinner on time?”

  “I believe he is married,” said Emma. “Carstairs tells me he is married, and, you know, Carstairs is never wrong. Has anyone seen her yet? Is she a Scotswoman?”

  “We have not seen her yet,” said Cecily, “but the baby is as bald as an egg.”

  “There’s a baby, too?” Harry cried in dismay. “Mama, I swear to you—if I had known he was married already, I would never have invited him here!”

  Emma blinked at him. “You invited him? Why, I just assumed that my brother had invited him.”

  “I assume by brother you mean Otto,” Colin said coldly. “Because I have no desire to see Lord Ian ever again, I can assure you. And even less desire to see his wife.”

  “But, Harry, why would you invite Lord Ian here?” Emma asked. “You are not friendly with him. Are you?”

  “You know why, Mama,” he answered, lowering his voice. “You needn’t put on a brave front with me. If he’s married already, we can hardly ask him to marry you.”

  “What?” Emma said sharply. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “Lower your voice, Mama,” he pleaded with her. “Please don’t embarrass me in front of my friends.”

  “How could you possibly t
hink that I would marry Lord Ian?” Emma whispered. “He’s one of your uncle Colin’s friends, you know. You know what that means, don’t you?”

  “But that is why you would want to marry him, of course,” Harry answered. “Another man might expect you to be, you know, a wife to him. You wouldn’t want that, would you? Don’t worry, Mama. Uncle Colin has a lot of friends. We’ll find someone for you.”

  Emma had not decided how best to reply to this when Lord Ian and his lady were announced. Lady Ian was immensely pleased by the general amazement that met her arrival.

  “Good evening, everyone,” she said, giving them all a dazzling smile. “We are not too dreadfully late, I hope?”

  Harry was thunderstruck. “Cousin Julia!” he stammered.

  Lady Ian moved down the room to him in yellow satin, amethysts glittering at her throat. “Good evening, Cousin Harry. I think I know everyone here, except for these handsome young men,” she added, eyeing his friends with great interest. “Will you be good enough to present them to me?”

  “But what are you doing here?” Harry demanded. Taking her roughly by the arm, he propelled her toward the door. “You are in disgrace in Lincolnshire!”

  Lady Ian twisted away from him. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? Did you not invite my husband to spend Christmas here at Warwick?”

  “No,” said Harry. “Camford came on his own. He had…business.”

  Lady Ian threw back her head and laughed. “Camford? He was no more a husband to me than you were, Cousin Harry. I am married to Lord Ian now.”

  “No!” said Colin.

  “That is impossible,” said Harry.

  “Did you think I would be content to be buried alive in Lincolnshire?” Julia asked, her dark eyes flashing. “Of course, I found myself a husband. And you said I was damaged goods, and that no respectable man would take me! Ha! You said I wasn’t fit to be married. You said the best I could hope for would be to become your mistress!”

  Harry paled. “Mama, I never said that,” he cried. “I swear it. I may have said she was only fit to be someone’s mistress, but not mine.”

  “I know what you meant,” said Julia.

  “Then the child in the nursery…” Cecily began. She trailed off, her mouth forming a perfect, soundless O.

  “It’s Palafox’s!” Colin said angrily.

  “That’s right,” said Monty, turning on him. “You have your wife and your baby, and now I have mine. At least, there’s no reason the next one won’t be mine. No reason at all.”

  “No, indeed!” said Julia, reclaiming her husband’s arm. “And, just for the record, Lord Ian is quite twice the man you are, Nicky.”

  Nicholas made her a stiff bow. “I am glad to hear it, ma’am.”

  Bewildered, Harry looked at his mother. “What are we going to do, Mama? All my friends are staring. I’m sure nothing like has ever happened before.”

  “But this is good news, Harry,” she told him, smiling. “You will now be able to lease the Lincolnshire house to some paying tenants.” Moving forward, she surprised Julia by kissing her warmly on both cheeks. “You are very welcome, Julia. Congratulations on your marriage. I am certain you will be happy. And Monty,” she added, turning to the gentleman, “you are very welcome, too. Shall we go in to dinner?”

  Much of Harry’s anxiety had already passed by the time she returned to him. “I’m beginning to think you had a narrow escape there, Mama,” he whispered to her. “If Lord Ian is twice the man Camford is, you would not have been very comfortable married to him.”

  “There is a silver lining to every cloud,” Emma answered cheerfully.

  “I wonder,” said Harry. “I think we all know that Lord Camford couldn’t cut the mustard. It’s why Julia ran off with that blackguard Palafox in the first place. Do you think Lord Camford would marry you, Mama?”

  “Oh!” Emma seemed quite surprised. “I don’t know, Harry.”

  “We could ask him, couldn’t we?” Harry whined. “Of course, if it’s too embarrassing for you, Mama, I’ll ask him for you.”

  Emma took her place at the other end of the long table. “I will marry Lord Camford,” she said, “on one condition.”

  “Of course, Mama. Anything.”

  Emma pointed to her cheek. “You must kiss me.”

  “What! Here, Mama? In front of my friends?”

  “I could live to be ninety, you know,” she told him sweetly. “That would cost you one million, two hundred thousand pounds.”

  “I suppose it’s worth it, then,” he grumbled. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to his mother’s cheek.

  “It’s worth it to me, darling,” Emma said softly.

  And she meant it.

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  Copyright © 2010 by Tamara Lejeune

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  ISBN: 978-1-4201-2032-5