The Irish Duke

by Virginia Henley

  Her brother did not follow her into the house. He remained outside talking to his friend. Louisa went upstairs, removed her hat, and washed her hands. When she came back down, her sister was waiting to hear all the details.

  “Was I right, or was I wrong? Did Abercorn try to kindle your passion, or was it strictly platonic?”

  Louisa blushed. “Don’t be silly, Georgy. We’re not even friends—we’re more like antagonists.”

  Charles came into the house. “I was on tenterhooks about being accepted into the Household Cavalry. The regiment has height restrictions. At five feet, eleven inches I just made it.”

  “Being accepted had more to do with who you are than your measurements,” Georgy asserted. “Our family is friends with both the king of England and the prime minister. There was never any doubt you’d get into the regiment of your choice.”

  “That’s a damned lie, Georgy. I’m an honors graduate of Oxford and meet all the academic and physical requirements. Watch your tongue, or I won’t escort you to Almack’s tonight.”

  Louisa looked surprised at his authoritative tone and Georgy rolled her eyes. “Charles thinks he’s in charge because Father has gone to Campden Hill. Mother sent a note that Rachel has chicken pox, and she thinks Alexander has caught it too.”

  “Oh, poor little monkeys,” Louisa sympathized.

  “She says they are not very ill. She’s having a devil of a time keeping them in bed.”

  “Since they don’t want to bring the infection to their precious daughters, they won’t be returning to London for at least a week. In the meantime, I’m the authority figure here, so don’t you forget it.”

  Both sisters gave him a mock salute. “Aye-aye, Lieutenant Bloody Russell.”

  “Don’t expect me to dance attendance on you tonight. I’m only going to gamble.”

  “And to brag about your commission!” Georgy taunted.

  “I invited James to join me.”

  “Why the devil did you do that?” Louisa demanded.

  “Misery loves company—that’s why. The place will be filled with matchmaking mothers, desperate to unload their simpering daughters.”

  “I’m neither simpering nor desperate,” Lu declared. “Perhaps I won’t go.”

  “Don’t be selfish! The season is so short; I can’t afford to pass up any opportunities to socialize with the opposite sex. I plan to wear my new ball gown.”

  In spite of having threatened not to attend, Louisa was ready and waiting by the time Charles came downstairs wearing the requisite knee breeches. She had been preoccupied with James Hamilton’s proposal ever since he made it, but she was determined to put it from her mind. She reasoned that a night at Almack’s would surely divert her thoughts.

  It was almost ten o’clock when they arrived. Charles did his duty by his sisters and remained in the ballroom for half an hour before he disappeared upstairs.

  Louisa kept a sharp watch for Abercorn’s arrival while she filled out her dance card and was led onto the floor by various partners. She agreed to dance with Ned Turnour, Earl of Winterton, and was pleasantly surprised when he did not speak of cricket. Next she danced with Lord Seymour. He was a Whig Member of Parliament and spoke of the reform bill that her brother Johnny was sponsoring.

  “I’m sure Lord John will welcome your support, Adolphus. He shouldn’t have any trouble in the Commons, but when it goes to the Lords, it is not a certainty.”

  “I’m sure my father will follow my lead, Lady Louisa.”

  She smiled at him. The Duke of Somerset is a leader, not a follower.

  By eleven o’clock when Abercorn had not arrived, she knew that Almack’s doors would be closed and no more patrons would be admitted. Disappointment clouded her mood and she accepted Lord Kerry’s offer to escort her to supper.

  It was one o’clock in the morning before she saw her sister. “Are you enjoying yourself, Georgy?”

  “Most of the men dancing are second sons, looking for heiresses. I danced twice with Maurice Berkeley, before I realized it was his brother who is the earl. I walked past the gaming rooms and all the interesting gentlemen are playing cards, not dancing.”

  “I don’t suppose Charles will be ready to leave for hours,” Louisa guessed.

  “I thought I had a lively prospect when the young Duke of Queensberry asked to partner me. But after the dance, Lady Cowper made a point of telling me the lecherous devil took a wife last year.”

  “Speaking of Lady Cowper, her husband is nowhere to be seen, but Lord Palmerston is dancing attendance on her.”

  “So I see! The patronesses of Almack’s are supposed to be beyond reproach, but Cowper proves that’s a load of codswallop,” Georgy said, laughing.

  “Hush, she will hear you,” Lu warned.

  Because James Hamilton was absent, the hours dragged for Louisa. In her mind she relived her afternoon at the theater with him over and over. Finally, around four in the morning, Charles came downstairs to take them home. His pockets were to let, and he vowed that was the last time he would ever attend Almack’s.

  Louisa lay abed but sleep proved to be elusive. Abercorn’s offer to arrange for her to dance at Covent Garden loomed more tempting with every passing hour. She had longed to do this all her life. She knew she could fill the role and even surpass Kitty’s performance. The only thing stopping her was paying Abercorn’s price.

  Girls on the stage have lovers . . . men who expect sexual favors.

  Lu turned over and thumped her pillow. It boils down to two things—either you want to perform onstage or you don’t. She knew she wanted it more than anything she’d ever wished for. It’s a chance of a lifetime. Will you grab it with both hands, or will you take the coward’s way out and primly refuse?

  Louisa made up her mind in an instant. With the dilemma resolved, she fell promptly asleep and didn’t awaken until afternoon.

  “I’m going to visit Aunt Charlotte and tell her that Mother has gone to Campden Hill and will likely be there for at least a week because of Rachel’s chicken pox. Would you like to come with me, Georgy?”

  “And have to sit there and listen to Sophie rabbit on about her wedding plans? Not bloody likely.”

  Louisa smiled her secret smile. She knew that was exactly the answer her sister would give her. That was the reason she’d chosen Fife House as her fictitious destination.

  She left the house, opened her red parasol, and walked down Grosvenor Crescent. She strolled through Green Park, then crossed Piccadilly. Though Half Moon Street was very short, she had no idea which townhouse belonged to Abercorn. She went up the steps and knocked on the door of the first residence.

  A servant answered. His eyes swept over her and focused on the red parasol. Since she had no maid with her, he decided she was no lady. “Yes, Miss?”

  “Does the Marquis of Abercorn live here?”

  “No, Miss.” He tried to shut the door.

  Louisa pushed it back open. “Do you know which house is Abercorn’s?”

  “Yes, Miss.” Again he tried to shut the door.

  “Damn your insolence, sir.” She closed her parasol and, holding it as a weapon, threatened him. “Point out his house to me, or you will feel my point!”

  The servant pointed his finger at the house across the street then slammed the door.

  Louisa crossed over and knocked on the door. When a manservant answered, she was ready for him. With the light of battle in her eyes, she pointed the parasol at him. “Lady Louisa Russell to see the Marquis of Abercorn. Announce me, or else.”

  He grinned. “Or else ye’ll give me the Chinese torture. This way, m’lady.”

  She followed him into the front hall. “What, pray, is the Chinese torture?”

  “Sure an’ that’s when ye shove yer closed parasol up my arse and pull it down open.”

  Before Louisa could whoop with laughter a voice from above thundered, “Phineas!” James Hamilton rapidly descended the stairs and dismissed the servant. “I’m sorry, Lu.
Please come upstairs.”

  She didn’t try to hide her amusement. “One Irishman apologizing for another, begod! What is the world coming to?” She followed him up to a tastefully furnished sitting room but did not take the seat he offered.

  James knew exactly why Louisa had come. He had been waiting for her. He had proffered the sugared mouse, and though it had taken a little time, he was sure she would not be able to resist the bait.

  “I’ve decided to do it!” she said quickly, before she could change her mind.

  “Do what, Lady Lu?”

  “Take over Kitty’s part at Covent Garden Theatre for one night. That is, if you can arrange it for me.”

  “I can and I will,” he promised.

  If Kitty will do whatever you ask, she must be your mistress.

  “Which night would you prefer? Choose one when you can be away from home all night, without arousing suspicion.”

  Louisa almost asked why? Then she remembered she would be spending the night with him. She told herself it was a small price to pay to achieve her lifelong dream, but she didn’t convince herself for one minute. She couldn’t decide on a night.

  “How about Wednesday? You can watch Kitty at the matinee and then take over for her at the evening performance.”

  “Yes . . . yes. Wednesday would be best,” she quickly agreed.

  He glanced at the parasol she was clutching. “Why don’t you put that down and have a seat?”

  She knew she must look ridiculous and attempted a joke. “You wish to render me defenseless.”

  “Your weapons are useless against my powers of persuasion, Louisa.”

  In that case you may as well take me to your bedchamber now, you Irish lecher! She did not voice the sarcastic remark but said sweetly, “Ah, will you stay me with flagons?”

  “I won’t offer you wine, but I beg you stay for tea.”

  “Thank you.” She took a seat and pretended nonchalance. “I have an ulterior motive.”

  “Would you care to enlighten me?”

  “Of course. I want to see if Phineas is capable of making and serving tea.”

  In a remarkably short time after James spoke with his manservant, Phineas rolled in a teacart. Over one arm was draped a starched linen towel. There was an assortment of dainty watercress and cucumber sandwiches and some petits fours, along with the tea things. He proceeded to set up a small table beside her, with a damask napkin, a porcelain plate, and a small cream and sugar pot. Then he poured tea into a matching cup and saucer and handed it to her. “Will there be anything else, m’lady?”

  “No, thank you, Phineas.” She could see the china was Spode. It had a claret border with a gold rim and Louisa was impressed, not just by the porcelain but also by the man who served it.

  When he withdrew, James smiled. “Never underestimate an Irishman, Lu.”

  She looked him in the eye over the gold rim of her teacup. “Forewarned is forearmed, Lord Abercorn.” She changed the subject to something less personal and spoke of the reform bill that Johnny was working on.

  “Lord John has the potential to hold high office,” James declared.

  “Father hopes he will be appointed to the cabinet. Prime Minister Grey includes him in cabinet meetings when the reform bill is being discussed.”

  “And rightly so. I predict he will go far.”

  Louisa had a sandwich and two cakes. She dabbed her lips with her napkin, then rose and picked up her parasol. “Thank you for the tea,” she said formally. “And for . . . the arrangement,” she added awkwardly.

  “Your wish is my command,” he said lightly.

  Until after my performance. Then your command will be whatever you wish, no doubt. “Good-bye, my lord. I hope to see you on Wednesday.”

  On Tuesday night, Louisa retired early. She practiced her dances and the words to her songs for hours. When she went to bed, she was far too excited to sleep and went over her performance in her mind’s eye again and again. To keep her fear at bay, her thoughts did not stray beyond the curtain coming down.

  After lunch on Wednesday, James picked her up and took her to Covent Garden Theatre. Before they went through the stage door, Louisa put on the red wig and tucked in all her dark tendrils.

  James escorted her into the dressing room, where Kitty greeted them eagerly.

  “You can watch the matinee from the wings, Jane. I’ve told the other girls in the chorus that you’re performing in my place tonight, and the principal actors won’t notice. They never look at lowly chorus dancers.”

  “Thank you, Kitty.” Louisa was so excited she could hardly breathe.

  James removed Louisa’s cloak and asked, “Will you be all right?”

  She nodded eagerly, her eyes shining like stars.

  “I shall leave you to it then.” He whispered in her ear, “Knock ’em dead, Lady Lu.”

  She looked at Kitty in her scanty costume. “How did you and Lord Abercorn meet?”

  “We played together as children in Ireland.”

  Lu felt weak with relief. They are childhood friends. She isn’t his mistress after all!

  The signal came for the girls to take their places, and they hurried out to the stage. Louisa followed and stood in the wings. She mouthed along with the words to the songs but as she watched she thought the dancing lacked lively spontaneity. The girls of the chorus seemed to be simply going through the motions, as if it had all become routine.

  When the principal characters of The Brigand came onstage, however, they did their parts with great enthusiasm. Louisa thoroughly enjoyed watching the performance from her advantageous position in the wings. When the musical ended, everyone gathered onstage to take the final bow. She followed the girls of the chorus into their dressing room, where most of them collapsed onto their stools.

  Kitty removed her costume and hung it up. “I’m more than ready for a night off.”

  “Before you go, I want to thank you sincerely, Kitty.”

  “Don’t mention it. I’d do anything for James.”

  Some of the girls removed their costumes and slipped on silk wrappers to cover their nakedness. A lad, who looked about twelve, came in to collect tuppence from each girl who wanted food to eat between shows.

  A half-hour later he came back and handed each chorus girl fish and chips wrapped in newspaper. Louisa was thrilled. She used her fingers and realized she had never eaten anything that tasted quite as delicious in her entire life.

  The girls’ conversations centered about the men in their lives. All of them were trading sexual favors for various things, from meals to presents. The lucky ones had regular admirers who were paying their rent.

  I wonder if James is paying Kitty’s rent. The thought was disturbing. She chided herself for her unworthy suspicions and firmly put them out of her mind.

  About an hour before the evening performance, Louisa donned her costume and sat before the mirror to apply her stage makeup. She felt butterflies start to flutter in her belly. When she was ready, she gazed at her reflection and knew none would ever recognize her as Lady Louisa Russell—not even members of her own family. The realization filled her with confidence and she smiled her secret smile.

  When the cue came that the curtain was about to go up, Lu felt a surge of excited energy. She jumped up, eager for her first performance on a public stage. Though Kitty was not the lead chorus girl, Louisa led the way. She took a deep breath and plunged into the performance.

  As her feet carried her across the stage, her nerves vanished like snow in summer.

  As she sang The Brigand’s lyrics, her beautiful clear notes soared above the other voices.

  Her gestures were eye-catching, her dancing was perfection itself, and her performance was far more professional than any other girl onstage. She put her heart and soul into her presentation and in essence became the character she was playing.

  James Hamilton sat in the audience, mesmerized by Louisa. Her beauty and her talent were breathtaking. It was a great pity tha
t she could not become a professional actress and dancer, for she had all the qualities that would make her a star.

  His feelings were proprietary. He had arranged this for one night only. He could never share her with the world. She would belong to him alone. If I’m lucky enough.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Being bathed in applause is the most glorious feeling in the world! Louisa stood onstage as the final curtain descended, filled with triumph. I did it! She spread her arms wide and then wrapped them around her body, as a feeling of joy engulfed her senses. Exhilaration spiraled through her belly, making her breasts tingle and her spirits soar. Happiness flowed about her as she floated in a sea of bliss.

  She was the last one to leave the stage and when she entered the dressing room, she was oblivious of the resentful glances and dirty looks of the chorus girls.

  James opened the door and strode in with an armful of brilliant red roses and carnations. “You did it! And you did it superbly!”

  Louisa laughed up at him as she took the flowers. She buried her face in them and inhaled, drinking in their intoxicating fragrance.

  Freed of the flowers, he opened his arms and Louisa eagerly went into his embrace.

  “Thank you, James. Thank you for making it all possible.”

  The other girls in the room, changing from their costumes, stared enviously at the handsome noble wearing evening clothes and the girl on whom he was lavishing his attention. The couple was unaware of their audience as the onlookers faded away and left them in a world of their own.

  “Let me unhook you,” he offered.

  She set down her flowers and turned her back toward him. “I hate to take it off.” She slipped out of the costume and donned her own petticoat and dress. Then she sat down on the stool and unselfconsciously drew on her hose and garters.

  James knelt and helped her put on her shoes. “You can remove your makeup later.” He took her cloak from its hook, placed it around her shoulders, and then took her hand.

  She picked up her flowers and was surprised to notice that the room was empty. “Where did everyone go?”

  James led the way back to the stage and they crossed it to walk behind the curtain. “I know you must be reluctant to leave. Why don’t you take another bow?”