Undone - Virginia Henley

by Undone (Signet) (lit)

  John had been amazed at how brave his mother had been at the news of her son's death. His father too had shown his mettle and his courage over the devastating loss. When Henry's body arrived and they laid him to rest, John had vowed to be strong for them. But in truth they had turned to each other, and it was their deep and abiding love that had carried them through and comforted them in their darkest hour. All his life he'd scoffed at love. Perhaps he'd been wrong. Perhaps, on rare occasions, it was possible for two people to fall and stay in love. As he drew his fur-lined doublet close about his neck, he envied his parents their marriage.

  His duty to take a wife and beget an heir weighed heavily upon him now that his brother was gone. Though his parents had said nothing on the subject, his sister, Anne, had not been reticent.

  "John, it is time you wed and produced an heir. You're the last of the male line. It's selfish and immature for a man your age not to settle down with a wife and family. It is your duty, in fact."

  Cynically, he wondered if she'd be pressing him if she had produced sons rather than daughters. "You always did have a penchant for the obvious, Anne." The moment he said it, John felt guilty. His sister too was mourning.

  He filled his lungs with the icy air and lifted his eyes to a bank of dark clouds that was gathering ominously above. It matched his mood. Then suddenly, the sun broke through and a bright beam of light shone down, illuminating a craggy outcrop of rock that towered before him. It enlightened his thoughts. Life was fleeting and unpredictable--why should he waste it in a dreary, dutiful marriage without affection? For the first time he allowed himself to seriously consider making Elizabeth Gunning his wife.

  Though her background was unimportant to him, his family would be shocked and disapproving for a pedigree was paramount to the nobility. But once it was a _fait accompli_, there would be nothing they could do about it, and eventually they might come to accept her. Tucked in his shirt pocket, the golden curl he had stolen from her lay against his heart. He missed her so much he ached from it. Was it possible that he had fallen in love? As he turned his horse back toward Inveraray Castle, he mocked himself for a lovesick fool. But he knew he'd return to London with all speed.

  At Grosvenor Place, Elizabeth was being readied for Court. She had bathed, and her body had been powdered all over. Next she had sat in her shift in the dressing room for two hours while her nails were buffed and polished, her _maquillage_ applied, and a specially trained _coiffeuse_ styled her hair. From time to time the Duke of Hamilton came to approve the effect they were creating.

  "Let me see her in the blush-pink silk," he instructed Kate Agnew, who in turn signaled two maids to begin the dressing. First came a boned corset that emphasized her tiny waist and thrust her breasts upward and outward most provocatively. Next came a full-skirted petticoat, then they lifted the gown over her head and stood aside so the duke could apprise their efforts. "No, that isn't the effect I desire. Try the ivory damask." He returned to his own dressing room where Morton, his valet, waited to shave him.

  When he came back he seemed happier. "Exquisite." Yet still he wasn't satisfied. "Isn't there a wig just that shade of ivory?"

  "May I wear my own hair, Your Grace?" Elizabeth asked softly.

  He looked ready to grant her wish, then smiled. "No, the wig."

  The _coiffeuse_, who had spent more than an hour on her hair, fitted on the elaborate ivory powdered wig without demur.

  Hamilton handed Agnew a small key. "Try the ruby necklace."

  When the duke returned he was dressed in satin breeches and an ivory brocade coat. He too wore a wig, and his outfit was completed by an ornate small sword. "Not the rubies. Get the pearls ... not the short ones. I want the expanse of her breasts left uncovered." The creamy pearls fell in a waterfall from her indecently low-cut neckline to down below her waist. When Hamilton selected a beauty spot and placed it on the curve of her breast, Elizabeth blushed, vividly remembering the last time she had worn one.

  He handed her an ivory fan and led her before the cheval glass. "You are perfect."

  As she gazed at the creature in the mirror, she thought that Elizabeth had disappeared and someone else had taken her place. But she admitted that the effect of ivory and cream was arresting.

  "I'll get her cape," Kate Agnew said.

  "There's a new one on her bed," Hamilton directed.

  The servant held the fur with awe. "It's ermine!"

  "A Duchess of the Realm is entitled to wear ermine."

  James made sure the royal reception was well underway before they arrived. The Spring Season had begun in earnest-- everyone who was anyone had returned to London and, by the carriages crowded in the courtyard, obviously had flocked to St. James's Palace. At the doors of the presence chamber he gave their names to the liveried flunky.

  "The Duke and Duchess of Hamilton." The amazing announcement caused the crowd of courtiers to turn from the door where the king was to enter toward the new arrivals. Until this moment most had not known there _was_ a Duchess of Hamilton and all were eager to see the paragon he had chosen. A buzz went up immediately as the ducal couple entered the chamber. It was followed by a breathless hush as their eyes fell on the ethereal vision in ivory. Someone whispered, "It's one of the Beauties!" The murmurs spread in a wave. "Hamilton has taken one of the Gorgeous Gunnings for his duchess!" People on the outer edge of the crowd, standing against the tapestried walls, climbed on chairs so they could get a better look.

  King George entered and saw only his courtiers' backs. Loudly clearing his throat brought on a paroxysm of coughing that effectively reclaimed everyone's attention. The crowd quickly shuffled into a semicircle about the monarch, and he began a slow progression. He stopped before Hamilton, his eyes bulging out of his head when he saw who the duke was escorting.

  "The lady graces our Court with her beauty."

  "Your Majesty, my duchess and I are honored."

  "Eh? What?" The king, glancing at the ermine cape over Hamilton's arm, realized its significance. Elizabeth went down into a deep curtsy before him, and his bulbous eyes became transfixed on the twin curves of creamy flesh displayed so enticingly for his pleasure. His anger at the marriage receded as he took her hand and kissed it. "Her Grace will always be a welcome addition to our Court." He fondled her fingers for a full minute before he raised her. "I claim the first dance, Hamilton."

  "Elizabeth! I cannot believe you married James without telling me." Charlie, with her husband, Will, in tow, had rushed across the ballroom the moment the king relinquished her friend.

  Beth looked into Charlie's eyes, trying to communicate her deep aversion. "I refused him, but my parents accepted. They gave me no choice!"

  "Your parents made a grand marriage for you, Elizabeth," Will acknowledged before his wife said something inappropriate.

  "My lady marchioness," Hamilton drawled as he joined them. "Will, it's good to see you. I hope marriage gives you as much satisfaction as it does me. Our small circle of friends will all have wives when George weds at Easter. All except John, of course, unless there is truth in the rumor that he eloped to Scotland."

  "No truth whatsoever," Will said grimly. "Did you not hear that Henry Campbell was killed in action on the Continent?"

  Elizabeth gasped. A loud buzzing began in her ears; she went icy cold then hot. The floor seemed to rise up and hit her in the face. She fanned herself frantically to keep from fainting.

  "Young Henry? That's tragic news." He searched his wife's face. "Are you all right, my dear? Did you know the young man?"

  "I met him in Ireland." _Mother lied to me! John did not go to Scotland to get married. Oh, John, my love, how will you bear your brother's death_? She had an overwhelming desire to find him and comfort him. The rest of the evening was a blur to her. People continually offered congratulations to the newlyweds. She danced, she conversed, and later she recalled that at one point the duke ordered, "Smile. You are the Duchess of Hamilton."

  At midnight, the duke took he
r home in the carriage. "I wager you are the most beautiful duchess to ever grace the king's Court. I was the envy of every man who saw you on my arm." When they arrived home the majordomo descended the steps of Hamilton House, opened the carriage door, and helped her to alight. The duke remained seated. "Good night, Elizabeth." The coach departed with Hamilton inside.

  Relief swept over her. She was exhausted from being on display and smiling for hours, but at least she knew she would be free of his dominant presence until tomorrow. He had only come to her bed twice since the night they were married, but the paralyzing fear that he would come each night never left her.

  It seemed to take an eon for Kate Agnew to remove her jewels, wig, makeup, and gown, and ready her for bed. The woman hovered over her like a spider and reported every word she uttered. When she was finally alone Elizabeth walked over to the mirror and stared at herself. _Smile. You are the Duchess of Hamilton_. Tears welled in her eyes and slowly spilled down her cheeks.

  Two days later, John Campbell arrived in London. He spent the afternoon catching up on business matters and dictating correspondence to his secretary, Robert Hay, and he thought about seeing Elizabeth with growing excitement. He was almost tempted to call on her at Great Marlborough Street, then thought better of it. He would much rather see her alone than in the presence of her parents. They would learn of his intentions soon enough if Beth agreed to let him court her. Instead, he made his way to Burlington Gardens.

  Charlotte stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "John, we are so sorry about Henry. He was so full of life. It doesn't seem possible."

  Will embraced him. "We are glad we knew him and will never forget the good times we shared."

  "Thank you." John took Charlie's hands. "Look at you! You are absolutely blooming. I take it you highly recommend marriage."

  Charlie's hand caressed her midsection. "My waist has totally disappeared. I shall look like a little barrel before long."

  "You exude such happiness it makes me envious. To that end, Charlie, could you invite Elizabeth tomorrow so I can see her?"

  Her face froze into an unhappy mask. "That would be impossible."

  John looked from Charlie to Will. "What is it?"

  "Hamilton made Elizabeth his duchess last week."

  John looked at them as if he did not comprehend their words.

  "Elizabeth is married to Hamilton," Charlie said quietly.

  He stood staring at them for a full minute before he broke his silence. "I'll kill him!"

  *Chapter Twenty-One*

  Elizabeth's parents and sister now occupied the north wing of Hamilton House on Grosvenor Place. The move from Great Marlborough Street had been a simple matter of transferring their clothing and personal items, since they owned no furniture.

  Maria, grass-green with envy that her sister outranked her, sat watching Elizabeth being fitted for yet another costly gown. "You may have a grand title and a magnificent mansion, but you won't have the one great advantage that marriage will bring me. You won't be free of mother's domination!"

  Elizabeth's lashes lowered, concealing the thoughts and emotions that raged within. The first week she had been dispirited because she thought she had traded one gaoler for another, but when her mother moved into Hamilton House she felt despair. It hadn't taken her long to learn that Bridget reported every move she made to Hamilton. Now she had two people who intended to control her life.

  "Elizabeth, your dancing master is here." Bridget swept into her daughter's suite with authority. "You can be fitted for the gown later. Maria, you too could benefit from the lessons."

  Elizabeth protested. "I never have a moment to myself. If I'm not being fitted for a dress or shoes, I have a music or dancing lesson, and tomorrow I must start sitting for my portrait. I have enough clothes, and I already know how to dance."

  "It is a privilege and an honor to have your portrait painted. You are the _Duchess of Hamilton_? You can never have enough clothes, and your husband wishes you to dance perfectly. You know the social invitations have been pouring in because every hostess in London wishes to have a good look at you. Hamilton lavishes you with love and gifts, yet you seem indifferent. If you are not careful, the duke will start to regret this marriage. He is a wealthy and powerful man, Elizabeth. If you do not please him, he could make life hell for you, to say nothing of what he could do to your father and I. You should be ashamed of yourself!"

  Elizabeth thought of the gambling debts and knew with certainty the threat of Fleet Prison had been real. "I'm sorry, Mother. I will try to please him." _Nothing short of perfection will please him_. "I will try to be a perfect duchess."

  Maria preened. "George is besotted with me. Once we are married, it will be _he_ who must please me."

  "Most beautiful women know how to make a husband their slave through sexual favors. Your sister seems to be devoid of the sensual skills that come naturally to you and I, Maria. But I'm sure your husband will teach you all you need to know, Elizabeth. Try not to be cold. Remember that Hamilton owns your body."

  _He owns my body because you sold it to him_! Elizabeth veiled her eyes and made a vow that she would never complain about her situation again. The last thing she wanted was pity. Her mother and her sister thought her the most fortunate woman alive because she had not only a grand title but enjoyed every material comfort that great wealth could provide. Elizabeth swore that she would allow no one to ever suspect that she was desperately unhappy.

  _You enjoy acting, so here is your chance to play the role of beautiful, pampered wife. Smile. You are the Duchess of Hamilton_. "Come, Maria, we mustn't keep the dancing master waiting."

  John Campbell, garbed in impeccable black evening attire, entered White's accompanied by his best friend, William Cavendish. He nodded curtly to George Coventry and Richard Boyle, who were playing faro. He was not surprised to see them and surmised that Will had alerted them that there would be trouble tonight. He sat down to play baccarat and noted with grim amusement that Will stuck closer than his shadow.

  When James Hamilton arrived, he accepted the glass of whiskey proffered by a porter then came straight to the baccarat table, as John knew he would. The rivals greeted each other in a civil manner. George and Richard left the faro game and approached the baccarat table, closing ranks. Hamilton tossed back half the whiskey and set the glass down.

  "Sorry to hear about Henry. My condolences to Argyll. How is your father holding up?"

  "Amazingly well, under the circumstances."

  "Reckless young fools, squandering their lives in vainglory."

  Campbell's eyes glittered with dark fury. He picked up the glass and threw the whiskey into Hamilton's face. "You impugn my brother's honor, calling him a vainglorious fool! Captain Campbell had great courage, while you are too cowardly to wear a uniform. I challenge you, Hamilton. Choose your weapons."

  Every man present knew the duel was about Elizabeth and had nothing to do with Henry.

  Hamilton, taken off guard, wiped the stinging liquor from his eyes. He knew Campbell, who was taller with a longer reach, was formidable with a rapier. "Sabres," he said decisively. He turned to Coventry. "Will you act as second?"

  Coventry accepted. It was taken for granted that Cavendish would act as second for Campbell. The men conferred and agreed upon Green Park at dawn. "I'll arrange for a surgeon," Boyle said.

  "He'll need the services of an undertaker, not a surgeon," Campbell muttered through bared teeth.

  After Hamilton departed with Coventry at his heels, Will said, "He chose sabres because of your reputation with a rapier and because he's heavier than you, but I wonder if he realizes your experience with a battle sabre?"

  "No matter the weapon, he's a dead man."

  "As your second it's my duty to ask you to reconsider, but I can see that's rather futile." Will checked his watch. "It's barely eleven. I'll be at Half-Moon Street by four o'clock."

  Coventry walked briskly beside Hamilton to his carriage.

  "James, it is in
your best interests to cry off. Christ, did you see John's face? He looked like a feral wolf!"

  "Ask Campbell to reconsider. I meant no dishonor to Henry."

  "It isn't about Henry."

  "I know that, damn you, George!"

  "You saw him. I don't dare approach him with such a suggestion. I shall come for you at four o'clock. Have your weapon ready."

  Hamilton surprised his coachman when he told him to drive to Grosvenor Place. He'd never taken the duke home at eleven since he had been in his employ. "Don't unharness the horses."

  Morton too was startled. He took the duke's cloak and poured him a double whiskey. He wasn't yet drunk, but he didn't look well.

  "I'll be with the duchess. See that we are not disturbed. If anyone comes, have them wait." He picked up the decanter and took it with him. Hamilton was not afraid. He was terrified. The duke entered his wife's suite and walked into her bedchamber without knocking. He saw the fleeting look of panic on her face before she could disguise it. This usually gave him a heady feeling of control, but not tonight. His control was in danger of slipping away. _You still control her_, he sternly reminded himself.

  Elizabeth, who had been about to undress for bed, was gripped by fear when Hamilton walked in. They had attended a musical evening given by the new Prime Minister and his wife the Duke and Duchess of Newcastle, which was over by ten o'clock. Hamilton had dropped her at home then gone his own way, and she thought she was free of him for the night. When he dismissed Kate Agnew, her knees turned to water, and she sank down into a chair before the fire. She watched him pour and drink a glass of whiskey before he spoke.

  "Did you know that I came into my dukedom at eighteen because my father was killed in a duel?"

  "No, Your Grace, I had no idea."

  "He fought Lord Charles Mohun. They killed each other... both of them died on the field. _The Field of Honor_," he emphasized bitterly. "There is no honor in dying!" He poured another glass and held it up so the light from the fire reflected through it. "I have an overwhelming revulsion toward duels, Elizabeth."