The Irish Duke

by Virginia Henley

  “My darling, you’ve been sick!” Her mother was alarmed. She sat down on the bed. “Do you have a fever?” She felt her forehead.

  “Sometimes I feel hot, and sometimes I shiver,” Georgy improvised, knowing full well her mother would detect no fever.

  “We must send for the doctor.”

  Georgy felt panic. “No, no, I feel better now. I was just about to get up.”

  “You will do no such thing. You are to stay in bed until the doctor comes. I shall send one of the gillies for Dr. Nicol. Louisa will sit with you.”

  When her mother left, Georgy demanded, “Why the devil did you tell her I was ill?”

  “I didn’t. I told her you were tired.”

  Georgy was almost hysterical. “I don’t want the doctor examining me! I’m not ill.”

  No, you are heartsick. First, William Cavendish spurned you; then Teddy Fox didn’t propose, and now Charles Bennet is avoiding you. You feel hopeless and crushed. “I’ll empty the chamber pot. The doctor won’t be here for hours—he lives thirty miles away.”

  When Louisa returned she asked, “Do you want to talk, Georgy?”

  “No, I don’t! What do you know about how I feel?”

  “I know you are unhappy.”

  “Everything is ugly. Food has lost its taste. I hate all my clothes. When I look at the mountains they are brooding and forbidding. I hate my life—I have nothing to live for.”

  “Things may seem bleak at the moment, but you have everything to live for.”

  “What does the beauty of the family know about it? Leave me alone!”

  Louisa moved toward her own bedchamber. “I’ll leave the connecting door open. If you want anything, just call out.”

  Terrified that the doctor would suspect she was with child even though she denied it was possible, Georgy held the covers up to her chin. “I feel much better, thank you.”

  Dr. Nicol stuck a thermometer in her armpit and then took her pulse.

  Georgy shivered with fear.

  He looked at the numbers on the glass instrument. “No fever at the moment. She is chilled—she is having a rigor.” He looked at the duchess apologetically. “I must examine her body to see if she has a rash, Your Grace.”

  Georgy pounced on his suggestion. If he diagnosed an illness, she would be safe. “I did have a rash, doctor. But it is all gone now. There were red spots all over my chest and arms yesterday. I showed my sister. But they are faded now,” she said desperately.

  The doctor looked at Louisa for confirmation and she nodded uncertainly.

  He got up from the bed and beckoned the Duchess of Bedford from the room. “Your Grace, I don’t wish to alarm you, but there has been a cholera epidemic in the North for the last year.” He saw the horror on her face and tried to reassure her. “I don’t believe your daughter has cholera, but she could very easily have picked up typhoid fever. The symptoms are vomiting, fever and chills, and a red rash.”

  “Typhoid? But typhoid can be fatal and isn’t it highly contagious?”

  “Perhaps she should be quarantined to be on the safe side.”

  Georgina wrung her hands. “I must tell her father. You will stay for the night, doctor. Perhaps you can be more certain of a diagnosis in the morning.”

  “Yes, thank you, Your Grace. She must be kept in bed and given lots to drink. Get one of the maids to make some barley water, and I’ll give her a fever powder.”

  Georgina hurried down to the library. “John, were you aware that there is a cholera epidemic in the North of England and Scotland?”

  “Good God, surely Georgy doesn’t have cholera?”

  “No, no, Dr. Nicol doesn’t think it’s cholera, but he thinks it could be typhoid fever, which is almost as bad, from what I’ve heard. He’ll know more in the morning. I shall have the maids pack the children’s things, just in case. It would be best if you took them home to Woburn. It’s mid-September so they’d only be here another two weeks anyway.”

  “But I can’t leave you here on your own,” he protested.

  “I don’t want any of the others to fall sick. Typhoid can be fatal, John. I’m quite used to nursing sick children, and you are not. Better to be safe than sorry.”

  Upstairs in her bedroom, Georgy and Louisa heard the maids scurrying about. “Go and see what the doctor told Mother and come straight back.”

  Louisa hurried downstairs. “What did the doctor say?”

  “He suspects typhoid fever. Pack your things, darling. It’s very contagious, so your father is taking everyone home.”

  “No . . . I’m not leaving Georgy.” Louisa was covered with guilt because she had not told her mother that Georgy had been vomiting. “I thought she was despondent because Teddy Fox didn’t offer for her.”

  “It’s more serious than that, I’m afraid.” She picked up Rachel, who had begun to cry. “Louisa, go to the kitchen and have them make some barley water.” She brushed Rachel’s red curls back from her forehead. “Let’s gather up your toys, darling.”

  “Louisa!” Georgy called. “I need you here when the doctor comes.”

  It was seven in the morning and Louisa, who was already up and dressed, went into the adjoining room. “You slept all night. How are you feeling?”

  “Awful!” Georgy really did feel ill as fear knotted inside her. She was still not convinced that she had conceived because her belly was still flat. But she was terrified that the doctor might somehow jump to conclusions and say that she was with child. “Here comes Mother and the doctor!” She could feel her heartbeat pounding in her eardrums.

  Dr. Nicol took her hand and placed his fingers on her wrist. He spoke to the Duchess of Bedford. “Her pulse is very rapid and her face is flushed.”

  “My ears hurt!”

  The doctor nodded. He took an instrument from his bag and looked into both ears. “Deafness is often a symptom of typhoid fever. We can only hope it won’t be permanent. I prescribe a drop or two of warm olive oil.”

  Her mother’s hopes sank. “So your diagnosis is confirmed.” She rallied her spirits. “We must be thankful that it isn’t cholera. Can you remain another day, doctor?”

  “I have a good many patients in need of my services, Your Grace. One more day is all I can spare in good conscience.”

  “Thank you so much, Dr. Nicol.”

  An hour later, two coaches and the baggage wagon piled high with luggage were ready for the journey south. The Duke of Bedford put his three sons into one carriage, while Rachel and her nurse occupied the second carriage with him. John Russell masked his apprehension and kissed his wife good-bye. He turned to his favorite daughter. “Won’t you change your mind and come with us, Louisa?”

  “Both Mother and Georgy need me right now. We’ll come home as soon as she is recovered. Try not to worry, Father. We won’t let anything happen to her.”

  They waved until the carriages were out of sight. “Louisa, I want you to ride over to Kinrara and tell your Uncle George and Aunt Elizabeth that under no circumstances are they to visit the Doune. Tell them that we suspect Georgy has typhoid. Then you must ride to the Ellice estate and give Edward and Hannah the same message.”

  “You just missed the Duke of Bedford, my lord. But he left a letter for you.” The butler at the Edinburgh townhouse handed James Hamilton an envelope.

  “Thank you.” James had expected the Russells to remain at the Doune until early October. He tore open the letter and read it.

  Dear James,

  I was here overnight on the return journey to Woburn. I’m sorry I missed you.

  My daughter has fallen ill and the doctor suspects typhoid fever. My wife insisted that I take the rest of the family home as a precaution, and though I was loath to leave, I know it is the sensible thing to do. We are all praying for her recovery.

  I hope to see you when you get back to London.

  John Russell

  James felt his gut knot with apprehension. The duke had not indicated which daughter was ill, but
he feared the worst. “Was Lady Louisa with his grace?”

  “No, my lord, only his sons and Lady Rachel.”

  Abercorn had just returned from visiting his lands in Paisley after receiving Angus Murray’s report. He had hired a coach and driver for his journey, and fortunately both were still at his disposal. James made the decision immediately to go to the Doune.

  “Lu, please don’t force any more barley water on me. I cannot keep it down. Some wine would be nice, but failing that, bring me some small ale.”

  For the umpteenth morning Louisa emptied the nasty contents of Georgy’s chamber pot. She was extremely anxious about her sister. Though she did not seem to be fevered and had no rash, she was pale and listless, and she still vomited every morning.

  “You should try to eat something. What can I get you?”

  “No ham . . . in fact, no meat of any kind. Just the smell makes me nauseous.”

  “How about a poached egg or a scone with some honey?”

  “All right, I’ll try.” Georgy was deliberately reducing her food intake. The last thing she wanted was to put on extra pounds that would cause comment.

  Louisa went down to the kitchen and was surprised to see her mother. She usually rested in the mornings because she sat with Georgy most of the night. “I think we have reason to hope. At least she’s no worse. She’s going to try some food.”

  “Georgy slept most of the night, so I take that as a good sign. I believe she’s slowly recovering. Her lethargy worries me, though. Perhaps bed rest will take care of that.” She glanced out the window. “Damnation! A coach has just driven up. Darling, go outside and see who it is. I’m unfit to receive visitors. I’m still wearing the clothes I had on yesterday.”

  Louisa went outside and hurried toward the stables where the coach was standing. The last person she was expecting to see climb from the carriage was Abercorn.

  “Louisa! Thank God, you are recovered.” He closed the distance between them and took her into his arms.

  She shuddered at the feel of his powerful arms. She had forgotten how darkly handsome the Irish marquis was. His closeness mesmerized her, and she found it difficult to break the spell of his compelling presence.

  Finally she struggled until he set her free. “It’s Georgy who is ill. What are you doing here?”

  “Your father left me a letter telling me his daughter had contracted typhoid. He didn’t say which daughter, but that didn’t matter. If your sister has it, you are in danger.”

  “I couldn’t desert Georgy and Mother.”

  “Of course not. Your mother must be frantic.”

  “She’s coping very well, and Georgy seems slightly improved.”

  “That’s very good news.” He began to walk toward the stable. “The horses are tired. We drove all night.”

  “You can’t come in, Abercorn. The Doune is under quarantine.”

  “Nonsense. If you are willing to risk infection, so am I, my dearest Lu.” He gave his driver orders to unhitch the team and take them into the stable.

  When the pair entered the house, the Duchess of Bedford looked from one to the other. “James, you shouldn’t be here, you know. But I fully understand your concern for Louisa. It was very gallant of you to come rushing up here.” Her hand went to her hair. “I’ll go up and change. You may stay for lunch, but in all conscience I cannot allow you to stay here overnight. Louisa, after lunch you must take James to Kinrara. My brother George will be happy to accommodate you.”

  “You are very kind, Your Grace.”

  “Louisa needs a change from nursing the invalid. She is looking pale and peaked.”

  James glanced at Louisa and hid his amusement. Her face was a pretty blush pink.

  During lunch, she sat quietly and let her mother and Abercorn converse. She knew both her parents thoroughly approved of him and would like nothing better than to welcome him as a son-in-law. She pushed the threatening thoughts away. Mother would never push me into marriage.

  After lunch she ran upstairs to change into a riding dress.

  “Louisa!” Georgy summoned. “Someone arrived in a carriage. Who is it?”

  She hopes Lord Ossulston came. “I’m afraid it was James Hamilton.”

  Georgy’s face fell.

  “Abercorn came to see how you were.”

  “No, he didn’t. He thoroughly disapproves of me. He came to see you, Mistress Prim and Proper. Your virginity draws him like a lodestone!”

  “That’s not true! I once offered it to him and he refused me,” Louisa blurted.

  Georgy’s mouth fell open.

  “Choose a mount.” Louisa began to saddle a sure-footed cob for herself.

  “I’ll ride the roan,” he said decisively and then lifted the saddle onto its back. He took a traveling bag from the coach and filled the saddlebags with his clothes and toiletries. She followed him from the stables and hung back for a moment, watching him. When Abercorn rode he was one with his horse, reminding her of a centaur.

  Louisa was immensely flattered that he had rushed up to the Doune when he thought she was ailing. This young noble had everything to recommend him: gallantry, looks, personality, wealth, and title. He was perfect. And therein lay the trouble.

  I must guard myself against his irresistible charm. He wants to be my husband, but I do not want to be his wife, nor any man’s wife. A wife meant being a mother and the thought of that terrified her. She had built an iron carapace around her heart but feared that sooner or later James Hamilton would cleave it asunder and leave her vulnerable and helpless to resist his will.

  Side by side they rode along a mountain trail. They came to a clearing in the pines and a magnificent vista opened up before them. James stopped to drink in the beauty of the loch and the heather-covered mountains dotted with sheep that sloped majestically down to the water that reflected the deep blue sky. “Now I understand why you love the Highlands.”

  Louisa sighed at the sheer beauty. “It holds a special place in my heart.”

  James smiled into her eyes.

  “I love your hills, and I love your dales,

  And I love your flocks a-bleating;

  But oh, on the heather to lie together

  With both our hearts a-beating!”

  “If you must compose doggerel, need it be so lustful?”

  James laughed. “That is John Keats, my ignorant little lass. But I agree that his romantic poetry is visually sensual.”

  Louisa blushed, not at Keats’s lines but at her own thoughts that the poetry provoked. The scent of the purple heather seemed to dance around them, perfuming the very air they breathed. She felt the wild beat of her heart and tried to deny that Abercorn was the cause of it.

  When they arrived at Kinrara, James was out of the saddle in a flash before she could dismount. He held up his arms in invitation. Louisa came down to him in a flurry of petticoats, and he reveled in the embrace, holding her captive against him for an indecorous length of time. He smiled down into her eyes. “The ride has brought the roses back to your cheeks.”

  It wasn’t the ride, you bold Irish devil, and well you know it!

  James watched the Duke of Gordon emerge from the stables and noticed the family resemblance immediately.

  “How is Georgy?” George Gordon scanned Louisa’s face anxiously.

  “She is much improved, Uncle George. Mother and I believe the worst is over.” She introduced Abercorn to her uncle, the Duke of Gordon.

  James shook his hand warmly. “Your Grace, I am delighted to meet you. Your sister, the Duchess of Bedford, allowed me to stay at your Edinburgh townhouse and now sends me to Kinrara to beg your hospitality. I am doubly indebted to you.”

  Louisa saw that the two men would soon become fast friends. They spoke of Gordon Castle and its proximity to the Earl of Aberdeen’s land.

  James wondered what Gordon thought of Aberdeen. I’m sure our low opinion of the man is mutual. James would not broach the subject in front of George’s wife, Elizabeth, or L
ouisa. He would wait until they were private to discuss the swine and the shameful way he had cleared his land of his tenants.

  After an hour’s visit with Elizabeth, Louisa said her good-byes.

  James stood up. “I can’t stay long. I have business in Edinburgh, and then I must return to London.”

  Louisa said breathlessly, “Well, I shall see you before you leave. You left your coach and horses at the Doune.”

  “Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow or the next day at the latest. I hope Georgy is much improved by then. Ride carefully, Louisa.”

  “I’ll have one of the gillies accompany her.” George went with his niece to the stables and when he returned he said, “Louisa tells me you came rushing to the Doune, not knowing which sister had the typhoid.”

  “I feared for both of them, but knew I would not have a moment’s peace until I had seen Louisa with my own eyes.”

  “How very gallant,” Elizabeth declared. “Have you known each other long?”

  James smiled. “I proposed to Lady Louisa when she was seven years old. My feelings have never changed. I have every intention of making her my wife.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “We are fortunate the snow hasn’t arrived yet. It often comes as We are fortunate the snow hasn’t arrived yet. It often comes as early as November.” The Duchess of Bedford tucked in the traveling blanket around Georgy as their coach crossed the border from Scotland into England.

  The return trip to Woburn that would reunite them with the rest of the family had been delayed until her mother was absolutely sure that Georgy was free of all infection.

  “I’m actually looking forward to seeing the young savages again,” Louisa admitted.

  Georgy did not join in the conversation. She often pretended she was deaf to the things her mother said.