The Duke's Undoing (Three Rogues and Their Ladies)

by Vandagriff, G. G.

  He didn’t know whether he was more astonished at Aunt Clarice’s Chinese saloon, with its bamboo Chippendale furnishings and obviously genuine Chinese landscape scrolls hung on the red silk walls, or at the fact that Henry Five was a tortoise allowed to roam free in the startling room.

  “What does one say to a tortoise?” he asked.

  “I don’t think he hears awfully well,” Elise told him. “Be sure to approach him slowly, so you don’t disconcert him, or he will retreat into his shell.”

  Forgetting his dignity for the moment, Ruisdell squatted down and waited for the reptile to reach him. Then, slowly extending his arm, he ran his hand over the shell. It displayed quite a beautiful design of pentagons set together like a puzzle. “What a repulsive creature you are, to be sure. No wonder Lady Susannah declined to marry Devonshire.”

  To his satisfaction, his lady proved to be very proficient at whist.

  “My mother is a cutthroat,” she told him. “And way too often for my liking, I’m her partner. I dislike being cuffed on the ear.”

  “You’re mother sounds . . . well, shall we say, interesting?”

  “You’re as ruthless as she is. I think you are one of the few people in the world she could get along with.”

  Later, in the middle of a very satisfactory luncheon (a cheese soufflé followed by a cassoulet of chicken and vegetables, with an apple tart and cheese to finish), the duke was annoyed to hear the Waterford’s voice in the hall. Bates, who had been waiting table, left to see to Robert’s wishes. The duke could not fail to see that his face was grim and worried.

  When he returned, he appeared relieved. “The Earl of Waterford, my lady,” he said to Elise. “He will await you in the blue sitting room until you have finished luncheon. He sends his apologies for his inopportune arrival.”

  “This is where I come in,” the duke said, feeling a deep satisfaction.

  Elise said, “Don’t provoke a quarrel, for heaven’s sake, Ruisdell. We don’t know which personality he has on. This afternoon, he may be quite amiable.”

  The duke smiled. “He won’t be, when he hears you’re engaged to me.”

  “Well,” Elise said desperately, “need we tell him just yet?”

  “You’re ashamed of me?” Ruisdell teased.

  “I imagine you’re perverse enough to wish for a duel. But I warn you, he’s not a comic figure. He is seriously dangerous.”

  “Me? Longing for a fight? Dear one, how could you imagine such a thing? I just think he deserves to hear our news privately. After all, not that long ago you were engaged to him.”

  “All right,” Elise said. “We’ll go in together.”

  The duke took his time over his cheese and requested a second cup of coffee. He had no idea why it amused him so to make Elise squirm.

  In the event, Waterford was in an ebullient mood. Walking to Elise, he kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Bought some fine matched chestnuts at Tattersall’s. Thought we might take a ride in the park.”

  Behind the earl’s back, the duke shook his head. He watched his “beloved” as she put a gentle hand on her suitor’s arm. “But, Robert, it’s pouring with rain. Hadn’t you noticed? And this isn’t at all the fashionable hour. You seem to have forgotten. In order to ride among the gentry and show your horses off at their best, we must go at five o’clock, not two o’clock.”

  Waterford set his mouth like a disappointed child. Then, whirling around, he said, “What’s he doing here? I declare, Elise, do you want to ruin your reputation?”

  “Miss Edwards has just consented to be my wife,” the duke said.

  “The devil she has! She’s engaged to me. We’ve been engaged for over a year!”

  “No,” Elise said. “I broke off the engagement before you went to Italy. I didn’t think you should have any ties.”

  “Well, I’m back now. And I consider that I have prior claim.”

  Elise’s face stiffened, and her chin came up. “I’m not a horse, Robert. Nor a slave. You cannot have claim on people as though they were possessions.”

  At this unpropitious moment, Bates announced Viscount Chessingden, who strolled in, ostensibly looking for Violet.

  Possibly it was the news of the engagement that touched off a lightning character change in the earl. The highwayman’s sneer came back. “Well, I am doing away with the duke in the morning, so then I will have no worries, will I?”

  Violet reentered just in time to hear Gregory say, “If you kill the duke, you will have me to reckon with! I know your weakness, and I choose pistols!”

  “Gregory, you are going to fight over Elise?” Violet said, her voice small.

  “If he kills the duke, someone will have to protect her from this madman!”

  To Ruisdell’s surprise, Elise stepped up onto the coffee table, giving him an enchanting view of her ankles. “Everyone listen to me. There will be no duels! I am not chattel. I have my own mind, and I will decide whom I am going to marry. I definitely won’t marry anyone who takes part in a duel. That’s final!”

  Before the duke could blink, Waterford had grabbed Elise around her waist and swept her off the table. The duke sprang after him, but the earl was fast. She screamed, bit, and hit him. “Grab the poker, someone!” she yelled as she was carried out the door into the rain. Insanity must have leant Waterford extra strength and speed as he threw his captive into his curricle and scrambled in next to her, springing his new horses without anyone laying a hand on him. The duke stood in the middle of the muddy street, the rain dousing him thoroughly, unable to believe he had been outmaneuvered. To make matters worse, he had come on foot to Blossom House as it was only a block from Shearings.

  A hackney coach passed. Without thought, he hailed it and jumped inside. It could never keep up with those chestnuts of Waterford’s but perhaps the curricle would get caught in a London traffic snarl. At the moment, he was hurtling down Holburn, headed for the East End with its markets and beggars. Ruisdell felt an anxiety he hadn’t known since the battlefield. Waterford was unpredictable, which made him dangerous. And why was he headed for the East End? Could it be he had a boat docked in the Thames estuary?

  The duke had reckoned without the courage and determination of his affianced. Leaning out the window of the cab, he watched as Waterford collided with a covered display of cabbages in Covent Garden Market. The stall owner stepped up to the curricle, demanding recompense from the earl. The earl was bound on one side by a blacksmith’s and on the other by the cabbage provender who had taken hold of his chestnuts’ reins in a bold move when they had been spooked by the vegetables flying through the air.

  Elise threw herself out of the conveyance and was stumbling among the cabbages, moving in his direction. The duke jumped from the hackney, semaphoring his position to her from three coaches behind. Picking up her skirts she ran toward him, her loosened hair streaming behind her. He had caught her up in his arms before Waterford realized what had happened. As the villain started running in their direction, the duke lifted Elise into the hackney, pulled a guinea from his waistcoat pocket, tossed it to the driver, and asked him to deliver Miss Edwards back home. He promised her, “I’m going to get this fellow to the magistrate’s without another minute’s delay.”

  Ruisdell saw that Waterford was now running toward him with a desperate stride. Obviously, he intended to tackle him. Just as he got to where the duke could see the whites of his eyes, Ruisdell stepped neatly aside. The Earl of Waterford stumbled and fell flat on his face into the filthy street strewn with horse droppings. Straddling the fallen man’s waist, the duke pulled the earl’s arms behind him, asking the cabbage purveyor who had followed, “Do you know where the nearest magistrate is to be found?”

  The man nodded vigorously and pointed back the way he came. “Lives over the market, he does.”

  Ruisdell fumbled in his waistcoat for a calling card and handed it to the incensed stall owner. “Tell him I need him urgently on some very bad business. Hurry on your way now. We’
ll get your cabbages sorted when you return.”

  “My . . . my . . . chestnuts,” Waterford managed to get out.

  “Aye,” said the duke with a laugh. “Looks like you’ll be having vegetable stew for many a day. Your horses are spooked and creating a fine ruckus. If I weren’t holding you down, no doubt you’d be drawn and quartered by the greengrocers. But you can thank me later.”

  By the time the magistrate arrived, the big man had not only ceased struggling but had changed personalities altogether. “What the devil am I doing here and who, pray tell, are you? I’ll have you up before the magistrate for assault, if you don’t rise this minute.”

  So the chubby magistrate in the evergreen waistcoat and pudding basin hat was faced with a dilemma by the time he made his appearance.

  The cabbage purveyor attempted to explain. “That man what the gennleman’s got in ’is toils ran full tilt hinto me spot. Me cabbages are ruint! I’ll be ’aving six and eight off of ’im and no mistake. ’is ’orses done a ’eap o’ damage t’ the hother stalls, too.” As he was in the act of listing damages on his fingers, the magistrate held up a hand.

  “We’ll see to you in a moment, my good man. It was the Duke of Ruisdell sent for me. I want to know why.”

  Ruisdell smiled grimly. “You’ve got to be careful of this one, your honor. One moment, he kidnaps my fiancée from her home, the next moment, he’s sending cabbages into the air, and now he’s settled down with the manners of a gent and proclaims amnesia—no recollection of his deeds.”

  “And your fiancée? Where is she?”

  “I sent her home in a hackney carriage. This man, the Earl of Waterford, was still in a fighting rage, determined to carry her off. And it’s not the first time, either.”

  Robert asked politely if he might be allowed to stand. Ruisdell reluctantly let him go. He was an impressive figure in spite of his dirt and dishevelment.

  “I would like to lodge a complaint, your honor. I was taking my fiancée to the market on an outing. I wished to buy her some violets, fresh from the country. They match her eyes, you see. And she does enjoy a stroll about the market, often picking up a joint or some new peas.”

  The duke gave a great “Hah! Better think of a better tale than that. My fiancée, Miss Edwards, has never bought so much as a pea in her life. That’s her cook’s job. And her eyes are midnight blue, not violet!”

  Waterford turned on him. “This man has a well-deserved reputation as a despoiler of young women. I have no doubt that you have heard of the Duke of Ruisdell. I never would have run into the vegetables if he were not following so close behind. I believe he did it purposefully in order to have an opportunity to snatch my dearest fiancée.”

  The magistrate, to the duke’s relief, showed perspicacity. “And the duke’s mighty vehicle that drove you into the cabbage stand is . . .”

  “He sent Elise home in it,” Robert said, his voice tinged with triumph.

  “Oh, so after achieving his objective,” the magistrate said, “in capturing the girl, he merely sent her home to her abode?”

  For a moment a look of frustration shone in the earl’s eyes. Then his face lit. “I heard him, sir, give directions to the coachman to take her to his house and hold her prisoner until he returned.”

  “Aw, see ’ere, mate. Nuffing like that hever ’appened. You knows as well as me, ’is Grace came in a ’ackney carriage, three be’ind you. And hafter the brawl, I ’eard ’im tell the driver to take ’er back to ’er ’ome.”

  It occurred to Ruisdell that Waterford was a very good improviser. From the conversation he himself had with the cabbage vendor, the earl had made up a story, even though he wouldn’t have any recollection of how he happened to be in this mess. He would have expected the man to be confused.

  “I will hear this case properly in my chambers tomorrow afternoon at one o’clock. Please make certain the young lady is there, whosoever might be her fiancé. Until then, I warn you: no violence, no foul play.” Turning to the cabbage seller, he said, “If you will attend, I will see that you are properly compensated by the offending gentleman at that time. Kindly take an inventory of all the vegetables that were destroyed.”

  Well, that knocks the idea of duel tomorrow morning on the head. I should be in the basket if the earl faces the magistrate with his arm in a sling.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IN WHICH OUR HEROINE MAKES HER DEBUT AS A FUTURE DUCHESS

  All the way home in the hackney, Elise felt weak with relief. While she tried to still her trembling, her mind kept revisiting her terror at Robert’s rigid face and horrible intent. She had known no hope of rescue. He had told her they were bound for his yacht in the Thames estuary. He would take her to France and thence back to Italy with him. At her inquiries as to whether he possessed a crew, he dissembled. “She’s a fine little boat. I shall have no difficulty handling her myself.”

  As if it were not enough to be frightened of the madman, she became frightened for her very life. Robert’s manic overestimation of his powers was horrific. Fortunately, before she had time to truly refine upon this terror, he had run afoul of the cabbages.

  Saved by cabbages. How ludicrous a rescue! What a farcical melodrama! As she pulled up in front of Blossom House, she began to laugh.

  However, she soon saw that she had returned to a household in an uproar. Clapping her hands smartly, she called her Aunt, Gregory, Violet, Bates, Kitty, and Mrs. Topwell, the housekeeper into the front hallway.

  “All is well. Calm yourselves. I am unharmed. His Grace rescued me and is giving Waterford over to the magistrate at this very moment. As he is unused to such heroic undertakings, I wish him to return to an orderly house.” She paused and gave Violet a hug. Her friend had obviously been sobbing unremittingly. “I am well, Violet, and the duke will see that I come to no harm. With Robert in custody, I should be safe. I suggest you let Gregory take you home so that you can recover from this scare and be in your best looks tonight at Lady Harrison’s dinner party. I believe Ruisdell is to announce our engagement, and of course, I want you there.”

  Gregory was looking rueful, tugging at the bottom of his waistcoat as though preparing for battle. Thankfully, he was silent. Elise was glad he appeared to have reconciled himself to the masquerade of her engagement.

  “I believe we should stay until the duke returns,” Violet said, holding Elise’s hands tightly. “I have always found Robert to be slippery as an eel. Perhaps he escaped somehow.”

  Elise had tried to shut her mind to that idea. Her body was bruised from the Earl’s tight hold and the unceremonious toss into his carriage. Thanks be to God for the duke!

  Elise drew a long breath to calm herself. “You may remain if you choose; however, I am going upstairs. I feel filthy from that man’s touch. Kitty?” She dispatched her maid to make the necessary preparations for a bath. “Gregory, Violet, I will see you this evening.”

  Violet took hold of her hands and then pecked her cheek with a kiss. “You have had a harrowing experience, no matter how you try to act calm.” She drew her arm through Gregory’s. “Come, my dear. Thank heavens you brought your umbrella.”

  As soon as the door closed after the couple, Aunt Clarice gave Elise a mighty hug. “My darling girl! Thank Providence that dear Ruisdell has taken you under his wing. I still can scarcely credit it from all I know of him. Now, I’ll just go look for some fresh lavender for your bath to calm you. I crushed a fresh batch just yesterday.”

  “Thank you, Aunt.” She turned to the butler. “Bates, I believe this incident calls for a pistol, in case Lord Waterford should make a second attempt. Do you own one?”

  “Yes, Miss. Shall I fetch it?”

  “Yes. Make certain it is loaded. If by any chance Lord Waterford tries to enter this house, shoot his kneecap. Nothing else. I don’t want him murdered, only disabled. And Bates?”

  “Yes, Miss?”

  “Do you know how to make a hot rum punch?”

  “Yes, Miss.”


  “See that one is made for the duke upon his return. He is likely to be quite chilled, and I do not wish him to fall victim to inflammation of the lungs.”

  Bates went off to perform his assigned duties.

  Turning to her housekeeper, she said, “Please have the fire laid and lit in the library for the duke. He will be able to observe the front entrance from that window.”

  Without further word, Elise ascended the stairs, feeling a bit like a general who has dispatched his forces. Discovering a rip in her gown wrought by Robert’s clumsy handling, she sent a silent prayer of gratitude that the duke had come to her box last night and, for whatever reason, had taken her under his wing this morning. Like her aunt, however, she knew not what to make of it.

  As soon as her bath was ready, she stepped into the lavender scented waters and slid down so as much of her body was covered with sweetly scented warmth as possible. Dismissing Kitty, she began to soap herself diligently. However, she couldn’t scrub hard enough to rid herself of the feeling of Robert’s steel-like arms carrying her off. The “general” disappeared, and Elise brought her hands up to her face and began to sob the great frightened sobs she had been holding back, picturing herself in the demented Robert’s power, pitching over the choppy waves of the Channel. Never one to go at things by halves, her sobs were loud and heartbreaking.

  After perhaps quarter of an hour, there was a brisk knock at her dressing room door. Swallowing her tears with an effort, she called out, “What is it, Kitty?”

  Ruisdell answered through the door. “I know this is most improper, but I must know if you are harmed in any way, Miss Edwards.”

  “No. Thank you for asking. And thank you for your timely rescue. I’m afraid he had some plan to take me out of the country. In case you haven’t guessed, I live a life of high drama.” She hiccoughed. “Every once in a while, I have to enjoy a good cry. I’m not terribly heroic.”

  “That is a relief to hear. Perhaps your fear will keep you safe and you won’t do anything silly to put yourself in danger.”