Undone - Virginia Henley

by Virginia Henley

  Charlie's face contorted as a labor pain distended her belly.

  "I cannot bear to witness my child's agony. Promise you will stay with her, Elizabeth. You have such a serene nature."

  _But that's just a pretense. Inside I am in emotional turmoil_! "Of course I shall stay with her. Charlie is more dear to me than a sister." It was the last day of June, and the baby had not been due to arrive until mid-July. "Perhaps your labor's started early because we were racketing about in the pony cart yesterday."

  "It isn't early, Beth. Will and I were intimate from the start."

  Elizabeth felt her panic rise up inside her. _John and I were intimate before I married Hamilton. What on earth shall I do if my baby arrives early_? She forced the frightening thoughts away as the midwife arrived. The woman put Charlie to bed, then took herself off to the kitchens for some tea and scones. For the next six hours Elizabeth read to her friend, massaged her back, sponged her face, and did her utmost to keep both Charlie's panic and her own at bay. The midwife finally took over, and shortly thereafter delivered Charlotte of a son and heir, destined to become the Fifth Duke of Devonshire. He was the image of his handsome blond father.

  Baby Cavendish had two nursemaids and a wet nurse from the hour of his birth. His mother had the usual ten-day lying-in period. Will, arriving the day after his son was born, went straight to Charlie's bedside with kisses, gifts, and a promise.

  "I'm sorry I wasn't here, darling, but the baptism will take place in Chatsworth's chapel, as is right and proper. I hope and pray you are well enough to travel by the end of July."

  Elizabeth, unsure of what Hamilton would expect of her, consulted with Emma. Should she travel with Will and Charlie to Derbyshire, or would her husband expect her to return to London? She had regained both health and happiness in the country and dreaded returning to Society. And the all-controlling Hamilton.

  Will Cavendish gave her the answers she needed. "I've issued all our friends invitations to the christening. Father is even traveling from London with the Earl of Burlington, and James will either meet us here or go straight through to Chatsworth. I hope George and Maria will come too. It will be like old times!"

  Elizabeth knew that if Maria had any say, and of course she had _all_ the say in her marriage, she would insist that the Earl of Coventry take her to Chatsworth, the Palace of the Peaks. An invitation to the heir's christening would be the envy of the _ton._

  By the third week in July, Charlie was outdoors with Elizabeth playing shuttlecock, and Beth discovered that exercise greatly increased her energy. At the end of the month Charlie and Will's respective fathers arrived, and the aging Duke of Devonshire proudly led the large entourage north to Chatsworth.

  The new grandmother, the Duchess of Devonshire, was noticeably absent, but everyone seemed more relieved than offended. Will gave Charlie and Elizabeth the grand tour of England's premier stately home, which would be his when he came into his dukedom. Elizabeth loved the cascade and fountains, while Charlie was more excited that the grand mansion had its own skittle grounds and immediately demanded that Will teach them how to play the game.

  Though Elizabeth was in her fifth month of pregnancy, she had gained less than a stone. The small mound of her tummy was easily disguised by the clever alteration of her gowns by Dorothy Boyle's sewing women, and her movements were not yet ungainly in any way. Both the country air and her pregnancy had given her an inner glow, and her golden hair was more luxuriant than it had ever been before.

  There was a full moon on the second night, and after dinner Elizabeth strolled in the water garden enjoying to the full her last hours of solitude before her husband arrived. She drank in the beauty of the cascading water, which the moon etched in silver.

  "Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania."

  Elizabeth whirled around thinking she had imagined the voice that set her heart thudding and her pulse racing erratically.

  "John Campbell, what are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly.

  "I am to be one of the godfathers."

  "Charlie never told me." Her voice held an accusing note, as if they had conspired against her.

  "I wasn't sure I could come. Then conveniently the king asked me to recruit more Highlanders. I'm on my way to Argyll." He closed the distance between them and stared enthralled at the lovely vision before him. "You are absolutely blooming. Thank God Hamilton had the good sense to send you from London."

  Elizabeth was thankful that for once they were not at each other's throats. Perhaps the night and the beautiful setting allowed them to share their inner thoughts without savaging each other. "I have so loved being in the countryside. I dread the thought of going back to London," she whispered.

  "I predict you won't be going back to London for some time."

  "What do you mean?"

  "If I know James, he will want his heir born at his ancestral home in Scotland. The Duke of Hamilton is laird of clan Douglas."

  "God help me, I'm so ignorant!"

  "Innocent," he corrected, reaching out with his fingertips to trace where the moonlight silvered her cheek. "You will love Scotland, Elizabeth." _If only I could be the one to show it to you_. "It will touch your heart and soul."

  She shivered involuntarily. _You touch my heart and soul_. "John, we mustn't be alone like this together."

  He cupped her cheek then withdrew his hand. "I know, sweetheart. I shall keep a discreet distance from you, if only for my sanity. The moment baby William is baptized I shall leave for Inveraray."

  He had ridden hell for leather to make sure he would see her before Hamilton arrived. These few precious moments together would have to last them for a long time. He started to dip his head but stopped. _If I kiss her, we are both undone_. "Good night, Elizabeth--sweet dreams."

  _He doesn't suspect that my child could be his, and neither must I. All pregnant women have ridiculous fancies!_

  It was not until the following afternoon when Hamilton arrived that Elizabeth realized they would be sharing a bedroom at Chatsworth. Panic knotted her belly as she sketched him a curtsy. "I hope you had a pleasant journey, Your Grace."

  He raised her, placed his hand beneath her chin, and kissed her full upon the mouth before everyone. "I still enjoy seeing you blush, Elizabeth, but I shall restrain myself until we are alone."

  She blanched at his words as the warm blood drained from her cheeks. She did not dare look in John Campbell's direction.

  Later that night Elizabeth retired along with the other females, leaving the men to their cards and their whiskey. She undressed and got into bed but found sleep impossible. Nervous anticipation of what would transpire once Hamilton joined her in their chamber kept her on edge. As the minutes dragged into hours her graphic imagination painted pictures that filled her with dread. Though she tried to banish them, Dorothy Boyle's words insinuated themselves into her head: _When your swollen belly makes frontal sex impossible, there are a dozen other ways to go about the thing_.

  Elizabeth's imagination could only conjure the two that Charlie had described--entering her from behind, and sitting on him in a chair. Both were more than enough to put the fear of the devil in her. She remembered the word _fellate_, which was associated with the mouth. She shuddered and hoped Hamilton would never demand it.

  By three o'clock in the morning, Elizabeth was a quivering mass of jelly. When she saw the doorknob turn, she went rigid with apprehension and wished she had blown out the candles.

  Shock and surprise registered on her face as Morton entered her bedchamber, half carrying Hamilton, who was legless from drink. The duke waved his arms wildly, mumbled something incoherent, then sank unconscious into a chair.

  Elizabeth sprang from the bed and rushed to his side. "He's unconscious. Does he need a doctor, Morton?"

  "No, Your Grace, three o'clock in the morning is the duke's regular time to pass out." He proceeded to remove Hamilton's shoes and hose, then demonstrated amazing dexterity in taking off the rest of his master's atti
re.

  "Does this happen every night?"

  Morton nodded. "The exception is if he gets a gastric attack. He stops for one night, then he's right back at it. He's addicted."

  The valet opened the duke's luggage and extracted a nightshirt. "I usually drop him into bed stark naked, but the sight would offend you, Your Grace." Without ceremony he picked up Hamilton's limp body and hauled him onto the bed. "Drunken swine," he muttered.

  Once they were alone Elizabeth watched her husband warily for the next half hour. When he didn't move a muscle, she cautiously crept into the wide bed and lay still. When he began to snore she felt she would be safe so long as she could hear him. As her body began to relax, she finally closed her eyes. _Drunken swine_!

  Elizabeth felt a hand touch her shoulder, and her eyes flew open to find John Campbell bending over her. A cautionary finger touched his lips, warning her to be silent. When she nodded her understanding, he swept back the covers and lifted her from the bed. When her arms slipped around his neck, his arms tightened, and as he carried her from the room, holding her high against his heart, she realized that he was naked.

  Only when they gained the privacy of his chamber did he dip his dark head and take possession of her lips. Her pulse raced wildly at his recklessness, and she surrendered her mouth willingly, eagerly. He set her down on his bed and slid the silken night rail from her body. Then he knelt behind her, swept aside the golden curls that cascaded down her back, and touched his lips to the nape of her neck. As his hot mouth trailed kisses down the curve of her back, she shuddered uncontrollably. She felt his hands cup her breasts, and heat leaped between them.

  He pushed her down gently and curved his long body against her back, nuzzling her neck with his lips, whispering love words that told her what he was about to do. Desire swept through her body like flames of wildfire burning out of control. She felt his erection nudge her bottom cheeks then slide between her legs from behind. She longed for him to bury his hard length inside her, craved to feel his powerful strokes that would make her lose control of her senses. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as her need for him overwhelmed her.

  When she lifted her lashes, Elizabeth was disoriented. For a moment she did not know where she was or who she was with. When she saw Hamilton lying beside her, the reality was like a blow to her solar plexus. The delicious interlude with John had been only a dream. Her heart and her body mourned his loss. Unable to bear her husband's proximity a moment longer, she slipped from the bed and put on the clothes Emma had laid out for her. Quietly, she made her way outside into the lush gardens to greet the dawn.

  Later that day, baby William was baptized in the alabaster font of Chatworth's chapel whose ceilings had been painted by Laguerre. Elizabeth, who had been asked to be his godmother before she learned that John Campbell was to be his godfather, tried to compose her face and her emotions. She did it by focusing on the beautiful child and prayed that he would have a healthy and happy life.

  At the christening celebration the food and wine were so plentiful there was enough left over to feed the village of Baslow, and the Devonshires welcomed their rustic neighbors to Chatsworth's lawns so they could pay homage to the baby princeling.

  John Campbell stayed only long enough to sample the christening cake then said his farewells. James Hamilton made certain that he and Elizabeth were close by when John emerged from the stables mounted on Demon. "We too are on our way to Scotland. It is high time that the Duchess of Hamilton actually visited Hamilton."

  _John was right. I am going to Scotland_! The prospect delighted her, and not simply because it would prevent her from returning to London. She genuinely wanted to see the beautiful Scottish countryside with its mountains and lochs.

  "You could call it our delayed honeymoon trip. Feel free to come and use the hunting lodge any time you fancy, John," Hamilton said magnanimously. His father had built Chatelherault Hunting Lodge on the vast Hamilton lands south of Glasgow. "Mi casa, su casa," he said, deliberately placing a possessive arm about his wife to demonstrate his ownership.

  John kept his eyes from Elizabeth. "Thank you, James. I am tempted to take you up on your generous offer sometime."

  "Good-bye, Lord Sundridge." Elizabeth was seething inside at the way Hamilton dangled her along with his hunting lodge before John. He was in his element when his friends coveted his possessions. "I assumed we would be returning to London, Your Grace." She imbued her voice with reluctance that he was taking her to Scotland, thankful that her acting lessons now stood her in good stead.

  Elizabeth gazed through the window, entranced as the black berline traveling coach with the ducal crest of an oak tree on its doors rumbled across the border into Scotland. She and Emma had the carriage to themselves because the duke preferred to travel astride his bay gelding, Acorn, and had sent Morton ahead to arrange their accommodation.

  "Scotland is lovelier than I ever imagined. Look yonder--some of the mountains are purple with heather, and their peaks are hidden by the clouds. I've never seen such breathtaking vistas. I believe these brilliant green ferns that blanket the hills turn russet in autumn and are called bracken."

  "It's beautiful now, but I've heard the winters are fierce." Emma much preferred the stone buildings of London to the craggy rocks that towered in every direction.

  Elizabeth, however, could breathe deeply again, and though she felt like a bird in a cage, she knew this was a place where her spirit could fly free if it was ever given the opportunity.

  In the late afternoon a great pink sandstone castle with twelve turrets came into view. The medieval fortress stood high, centered in a saucer of wooded hills, and it dominated the surrounding landscape. The gatehouse guard waved them through, and the coach stopped in a central courtyard with a square tower at each corner.

  As grooms rushed from the stables to tend the horses and servants came to carry their luggage, Hamilton handed Elizabeth from the coach. "This is Drumlanrig Castle. The land was granted to the Douglases in the fourteenth century by Robert the Bruce."

  "It is magnificent, Your Grace." Elizabeth's thoughts took wing. Until this moment she'd had no notion of the vast Douglas wealth and landholdings. Her husband led her into Drumlanrig and introduced her to the Douglas clan who occupied the castle, in every capacity from kin to keepers, stewards, and inside servants.

  "It is my great pleasure to present my wife, Elizabeth Douglas, Duchess of Hamilton. I know you will serve her well."

  She knew that her title gave her prestige among the _ton_ but, for the first time, she began to realize how exalted the rank of Duchess of Hamilton was in the Scottish noble hierarchy. And as the Douglas clan paid their homage, Elizabeth felt overwhelmed.

  They rested for a day then resumed their journey, stopping at another castle where even the town was called Douglas. After dinner, when Elizabeth went into the library hoping to find a map that would indicate just how much of Scotland belonged to Hamilton, she found the duke speaking with the castle steward.

  "Forgive me, Your Grace, I was looking for information about Castle Douglas."

  "This is Douglas Castle, not Castle Douglas. That infamous stronghold is forty miles south, near the open sea of the Solway. Come, let me show you." His face was filled with arrogant pride as he unfolded a huge map and spread it out across the desk.

  Her curiosity overcame her reticence, and her glance followed his spatulate finger as it moved across the ancient territories. "The names are confusing to outsiders, but now that you carry my heir, Elizabeth, you are hardly an outsider." He laughed as she blushed.

  "We are going to Hamilton. Do you own yet another castle?"

  "I own many, but in Hamilton my castle Cadzow has all the amenities of a manor house. It is not a bleak pile of stone."

  "Cadzow! Isn't that the ancient name for Glasgow?"

  He nodded. "You are as educated as you are beautiful, my dear. I also possess a lovely castle near Edinburgh called Lennoxlove, but the landholding is small, only two
thousand acres of cattle."

  That night, as she lay abed, she thought about how Hamilton led a useless life that consisted of socializing, drinking, and gaming. As head of the Douglas clan and Duke of Hamilton he possessed untold wealth, which was all funneled to London to support his dissolute lifestyle. Her hand caressed the child beneath her heart. _If you are a boy, you will be the next Duke of Hamilton. I promise you I will do my utmost to teach you to be a responsible man. I shall never allow you to waste your life and your wealth the way your father has done._ Elizabeth sighed deeply. In her heart she secretly longed for a daughter. _And if you are a girl, I shall try to teach you to be courageous and not allow men to bully you and make you afraid, as I have done._

  Two days later, they arrived at their final destination, Cadzow Castle in Hamilton, ten miles from Glasgow. To Elizabeth's amazement she learned that Hamilton owned most of those ten miles. She lost her heart to Cadzow as soon as she saw it. She loved everything about it, from the mellowed stone to the breath-stopping views from the upper windows of the pretty lawns and gardens that swathed the ancient manor in brilliant flowers. A great deal of work had been done on the chambers, turning it into a small palace, and the River Clyde ran close by, adding to its enchantment.

  The stables were vast and housed some of the animals from the home farm such as oxen, Border ponies, and donkeys. There were no cats about because the mews above the stable housed hunting birds but she did spy a black-and-white Border collie and fully intended to make friends with it. She had always wanted a dog but had been forbidden such a pet by both her mother and her husband.

  Beyond the cultivated gardens and meadows of the home farm stretched forests and fells that must teem with wild creatures such as deer, wolves, and even a lynx or two. Elizabeth, who was at heart a child of nature, couldn't wait to explore her new surroundings and test their boundaries.