A Hint of Scandal

by Rhonda Woodward

  I am certainly more familiar with him asleep, she thought with an ironic twist to her lips.

  When the coach door had opened, Bella had emerged first to see a score of servants lined up on the wide marble steps. She glanced back to see the duke following stiffly and looking positively ashen.

  After the duke greeted his butler, and all the servants had bowed, they were led into a cavernous entry hall. The huge hall ended at a wide marble staircase that split at the landing of the first floor, diverging in opposite directions to a gallery visible from the hall below.

  Standing on the bottom of the staircase had been the duke’s mother. Next to her stood a younger, prettyish redheaded lady, garbed in a peach-colored silk gown boasting a multitude of bows, puffs, and gathers. Standing next to the redhead was a boy perhaps a year or so younger than Tommy. He had very dark hair and light eyes. Bella instantly knew that this must be Henry, the duke’s nephew.

  As she and the duke drew near, the redhead curtsied, the boy bowed, and the dowager stepped forward. Bella was again impressed by the dowager’s stately manner.

  “Arabella, you are most welcome to Autley. This place has been too long without a mistress.” She had smiled warmly at her new daughter-in-law and offered her cheek to be saluted.

  Bella felt the heat of a blush surging to her cheeks. What must his mother be thinking? she wondered in great dismay. Despite the dowager’s imposing demeanor, Bella had instantly admired the lady when she had come to the manor. Bella wondered how, under the circumstances, she could ever behave normally in her presence.

  With a tentative smile, Bella kissed the dowager’s cheek. When she pulled back, her eyes met the older lady’s, and for a brief instant Bella saw a look of such gentle understanding, it almost made her cry.

  Stepping forward, the duke brought Bella’s attention to the other lady. “Arabella, I would like to make known to you my sister-in-law, Margaret.”

  The redheaded lady dropped a deep curtsy to Bella, and then met her gaze with wide brown eyes.

  “My dear Duchess, when Mama shared the news that Westlake was bringing home a bride, I cannot express to you how excited I was. Was I not terribly excited, Mama?” Margaret looked to the dowager for confirmation of the state of her emotions.

  “Yes, Margaret, you were very excited,” the dowager offered in a neutral tone.

  “See? Welcome to Autley, your grace,” Margaret said with another quick curtsy.

  Instantly Bella recalled the duke’s telling her how his brother had come to regret his marriage to this woman.

  After greeting Henry with great affection, the duke had then presented his nephew. The handsome little boy looked at Bella with very solemn eyes that showed a maturity beyond his young years.

  “I am pleased to meet you, Henry.” Bella smiled gently down at the boy.

  “Are you really married to my uncle?” the boy asked in reply.

  Bella straightened and cast the duke a quick, harried glance. How to answer such a question?

  But before the duke could step in, Margaret tousled her son’s hair and gently rebuked him. “Now Henry, you know I explained it to you earlier. Do not ask silly questions.”

  Henry looked from Bella to the duke and back again, his eyes still inquisitive.

  “I am very glad to meet you both,” Bella had said to mother and son.

  “I am sure you both are hungry after your long journey. I have arranged for a light repast to sustain you until breakfast,” the dowager had informed them.

  “Thank you, ma mère, but I am quite fatigued and shall go straight to my chambers,” the duke said, turning to Bella and giving her a slight bow.

  “Forgive me for deserting you on your first night at Autley, my dear, but my mother will see to your comfort.”

  With an expression of growing concern and confusion, she watched the duke’s back as he ascended the stairs.

  After sharing a light meal with her new mother-in-law and Margaret, Bella had been shown to the largest, most exquisitely appointed bedchamber she had ever seen. A huge canopied bed dominated the room, with voluminous swags of brocaded fabric, in the colors of spring, hanging from the rails.

  Bella walked farther into the room and saw that there was a settee and two chairs by the fireplace. The marble-mantled fireplace was so large, Bella was sure she would have been able to stand in it if a fire were not already crackling away.

  The dowager had shown her around, indicating a dressing room on the north side, and a private salon on the south.

  Bella could only nod, and was embarrassed to see that two maids were unpacking her few belongings.

  “This was never my chamber, my dear,” the dowager duchess had told Bella in a conversational tone. “My husband and I always preferred the south wing of the house. But my son has made improvements to the west wing, and prefers having his chambers here. This room also has a balcony that overlooks the garden, and, of course, has a wonderful view of the sunsets.”

  Bella had been enormously relieved when the duchess had shooed the maids out and wished her a good night, saying, “I know you shall be happy here at Autley. It is a bit daunting at first, but it truly is a magical place.”

  Bella had thanked the dowager for her kindness, and once the door closed she allowed herself to collapse on the bed. Finally she gave way to a flood of tears, brought on by fear and fatigue. She was completely overwhelmed by the sudden sweeping changes occurring in her life and wept with a sadness she had never felt before.

  * * *

  The next morning, Bella had taken herself well in hand. During the night, as she tossed and turned in the huge bed in the vast bedchamber, she had determined to make the best of her circumstances. Surely without the pressure of her father’s and uncle’s presence they could come up with a plan, she decided hopefully, sitting up in the large bed.

  There was a light tap on her door, and Bella bade whomever it was to enter. One of the maids who had unpacked her clothing the previous night came in with a breakfast tray and placed it on the table next to the bed.

  Bella thanked the woman, who bobbed a curtsy before leaving the room without a word.

  Looking at the beautiful porcelain tea set and dishes, Bella prayed she would not be clumsy—it all looked priceless.

  A note nestled next to a small flower vase on the tray caught her attention. Curiously she picked it up and broke the seal. It was from the duke.

  My Dear Arabella,

  I must beg your forgiveness, but I am called away on urgent business.

  You will be well taken care of here at Autley, and I urge you to treat my home as you would your manor in Mabry Green.

  I shall do my best to hasten my return, for I know that there is much for us to discuss concerning our future.

  Your servant,

  Westlake

  “Well,” Bella said aloud in mild surprise. After reading the note again, she could not decide if she was relieved that he was gone or not. Even though she was anxious to have things settled between them, his presence had become so disturbing, some time to sort out her thoughts would be a relief.

  A little later, her curiosity about the duke’s home drew her from her bedchamber. After some minutes of going up and down hallways, Bella realized that she was hopelessly lost. Though there were innumerable footmen and maids to direct her, she would turn down another corridor and lose her way again.

  Since she had nothing to do, she did not really mind. After all, how lost could she get? she mused with a little smile.

  Autley was beautifully decorated, and Bella owned herself impressed with the antiques and rare artwork that filled the place. Gainsboroughs and Van Dykes filled the gallery, and when she had wandered into one of the formal drawing rooms, she stopped to stare in awe at the gilded mural depicting a romanticized scene of heaven, taking up all four walls.

  It was only by opening one door after another that Bella was able to find a room that seemed lived in. On her fifth try she stumbled into what was appar
ently a sitting room, and found Margaret Westlake perusing a fashion magazine while seated on a settee by a large bay window.

  “Good morning,” Bella said with a little laugh. “I have been wandering this vast place for what seems like hours. What a relief to find another living soul!”

  Margaret laughed a little too hard and long at Bella’s attempt at humor, especially since Bella did not think the mirth reached her brown eyes.

  “Come and sit with me, my dear sister-in-law. We must become acquainted.”

  Bella moved across the room to sit in a chair opposite Margaret and took in the peach confection of the morning gown she wore.

  From neck to hem, there were graduating sizes of puffy peach bows. The largest one, at the hem, was probably a foot wide. Bella wondered if Margaret was considered fashionable or if others considered her attire as absurd as she did.

  “So how do you like your new home?” Margaret asked once Bella was seated.

  “I do not know yet. It is certainly beautiful here. And large,” she told the redhead in an attempt to ease their conversation.

  “Yes, it certainly is that. But you would be hard-put to find a grander house in all of England.”

  “I am sure.”

  “I must say we were all quite bowled over by the news that Westlake had married.” Margaret smiled, but Bella noticed the redhead was watching her keenly.

  “It was very sudden, was it not?” she continued.

  Bella did not intend to discuss her marriage to the duke with his sister-in-law. “Yes. I suppose it was.” She smiled politely. “Your son seems to have recovered very well from his accident. And he seems a very bright boy,” she offered in hopes of changing the subject.

  Margaret looked at Bella with her head slightly tilted before responding. “Yes. At the time I thought his fall was more serious than it turned out to be. But yes, my Henry is very bright. He takes after my poor departed James.” Margaret pressed a bit of lace to her eye to convey her still-fresh grief.

  “I am very sorry for your loss,” Bella said gently.

  “Thank you, your grace.” Margaret sniffed. “It is very difficult to be a widow, especially at so young an age. I just thank heaven that I have my Henry. He is my only comfort.” Margaret heaved a heavy sigh.

  Bella made a sympathetic noise, for she really had no idea what to say to the young widow.

  At that moment the door burst open and young Henry came bounding in.

  “Look, Mama, I have found some of Uncle Alex’s old toy soldiers in the nursery.” The little boy held out his hand to his mother and showed her the small figures. He then saw Bella and stopped, turning to look at her in wide-eyed surprise.

  “Good morning, Henry. How are you today?” Bella inquired gently.

  The boy continued to stare at Bella with a confused frown forming on his little brow.

  “Make your bow, Henry,” Margaret encouraged.

  “Good morning, Aunt Arabella,” the little boy finally said after making a very practiced bow.

  “I have a little brother who also likes to play with toy soldiers,” Bella said in an attempt to bring the boy out of his shyness.

  He said nothing to this.

  Bella glanced to his mother, who was beaming at her son proudly.

  “Are you going to have a baby?” Henry burst out as he clutched his toy soldiers.

  Bella stared, speechless, at the dark-haired little boy.

  “Henry! Watch your manners!” his mother chided.

  Henry did not even glance in his mother’s direction, but continued to look at Bella. “Well, are you?”

  Bella overcame her immediate shock and smiled at the precocious little boy. Obviously the answer was very important to him.

  “Well, I expect I shall someday.”

  Frowning, Henry turned to his mother.

  “But Mama, you said she would not have a baby,” he said anxiously.

  Not knowing what to make of this odd conversation, Bella looked at Margaret with raised brows.

  “Hush, Henry! Go back to the nursery and play with your toys,” Margaret admonished her son, blushing to the roots of her red hair.

  With another anxious look at Bella, Henry reluctantly left the room.

  “Children!” Margaret tittered after the door closed. “One never knows what will come out of their mouths. He is a very curious boy by nature. He asked me the other day if you would be having a baby. I, of course, said no, as you have only just married. You know how confused children can get,” Margaret explained hurriedly. “I hope he did not embarrass you.”

  “No,” Bella said with a light laugh to put Margaret at ease. “I do know how precocious little boys can be.”

  Margaret continued to blush.

  “If you will excuse me, your grace, I… I need to finish some letters so they can go out in the post today.”

  Without waiting for Bella to reply Margaret jumped up from the settee and quickly left the room, leaving Bella to look after her with a curious frown.

  On her second full day at Autley, while dining with the dowager and Margaret, the dowager had informed Bella that she, Margaret, and Henry would be leaving for London.

  “When?” Bella had asked, startled by this sudden news.

  “It has been planned for some time that we leave tomorrow,” the dowager had supplied. “We shall be staying at the town house of my oldest daughter, Lady Edgeton. My younger daughter, Louisa, is there now. She is to marry the Duke of Malverton this June. Because of my son’s disappearance, the wedding plans were halted, of course. But now that everything is fine we must catch up. We have six hundred guests!”

  “Oh, my!” Bella had said, finding it hard to imagine the enormity of the preparations to be made for such an event.

  “You shall have to come visit us while we are in London; it is vastly diverting. We shall go shopping together,” Margaret had offered.

  Bella had looked at Margaret closely then. She was not one to rush to judgment about a person’s character, but she had come to a conclusion about the duke’s sister-in-law. There was definitely something about her manner that revealed an effort at artifice. No matter how gushingly Margaret spoke to Bella or the dowager, the look in her eyes did not match her tone.

  But still, the thought of their going to London and leaving her virtually alone in this cold house was distressing to Bella.

  But they had left the next morning as planned, with Bella waving after them from the wide marble steps of the entrance. She returned to the main salon and asked the butler, Hollings, if he knew when his grace would be returning. It was very embarrassing to have to ask a servant such a question, but as the duke had not given any real indication of when he would come home, she felt there was little choice.

  The very correct man had looked down at Bella with an expression that could only be described as haughty.

  “I do not know, your grace,” was all he said before bowing and backing out of the room.

  When the door closed, Bella had flopped down on a settee in complete vexation. She could understand the duke’s desire to take care of estate matters, but she was growing anxious to speak to him about her idea to free them both. Even if she had wanted to take on such a daunting role as the Duchess of Westlake, which of course she did not, he had to be aware that she had no notion of how to behave. Granted, she was the granddaughter of an earl, but that was no help under these circumstances. As her father was a second son, they had always lived quietly and simply, and there had been no need to learn anything of protocol, court life, or entertaining on a grand scale.

  Annulment seemed the only way out for both of them, she concluded with a deep sigh. Certainly the duke did not want to be saddled with a country girl who had no idea of how to conduct herself among the nobility.

  She already missed her family and the comforting routine of her life in Mabry Green. As she sat in the luxurious room, Bella experienced a deep, almost painful desire to return home.

  Later, sitting alone at
the dining table in a state of deep frustration, Bella wondered again how long the duke would be away from Autley. Glancing up at the young footman, she decided to try her luck with him.

  “Do you happen to know when his grace is expected to return home?”

  The young man froze at her unexpected question and looked at her uncertainly.

  “Er… yes, your grace. I believe his grace returned this eve and is in his library,” he supplied a little nervously.

  One of Bella’s dark brows went up at this information. “Thank you,” she said, coming to a decision.

  Placing her napkin down, she did not wait for the footman to pull her chair back before rising from the table. The footman nearest the door had to take a quick step to reach it before the new duchess opened it herself.

  Bella headed down the hallway with rapid determined steps, past numerous works of art, tapestries, and antiques, until she reached the duke’s private library. It felt as if she had walked for miles before she came upon the large double doors with a liveried lackey standing in front of them.

  Seeing that she intended to enter, the lackey adroitly blocked her way.

  “May I announce you to his grace, your grace?”

  Bella stood before the burgundy-and-black-clad man and resisted the urge, with some difficulty, to kick him in the shins.

  Taking a very deep breath, her eyes flashing blue fire, Bella pushed past the footman and opened one heavy oak door herself. As soon as she was in the room, she turned and slammed the door shut.

  The duke, seated behind a massive desk, rose immediately at her unexpected entrance.

  “Hello, Arabella. I see you are learning your way around Autley.” His tone was very polite but his eyes held a hint of amusement.

  Now that she had achieved her goal in locating him, Bella found that she did not know how to begin.

  Stalling, she looked around the very attractive room with its leather-lined walls, two-story bookcases, and air of masculinity. It seemed a fitting atmosphere for the duke, she thought.

  Finally she turned to him and looked him squarely in the eyes.

  “Your grace, I desire a word with you.”