Scandal at Vauxhall (Pleasure Garden Follies)
Page 7
“Gents, this has been a most enlightening discussion, but I must be going. I have other engagements requiring my immediate attention.”
Nathaniel walked away annoyed, yet amused, at how easily he came across the information he required. Though some of the bets made were not in the least bit pleasant, he enjoyed that the men could at least discuss them with some civility. However, none of the talk did anything to reduce his anger. He could not shake the disgust of the men betting on Isabel becoming someone’s mistress. If one thing was certain, the only mistress she would be was over Stoughton Manor and his children.
* * * *
Isabel cocked her head to the side, observing the exasperated expression on her butler’s face. She had only been home for an hour when callers began showing up. With each visitor, he politely turned away the lords and ladies calling. They had all read the gossip columns, and she could only imagine the bets running around in White’s about who would bed her next.
Henry must be turning in his grave. Not only had she succeeded in further disgracing his family name, but she had managed to embroil and embarrass another prominent household in the process.
“What is it this time, Edmonds?”
“I have come to give you an accounting of the visitors thus far—that is, if you are ready, Your Grace?”
She chuckled. “Do not just stand there, go on.”
“Lord and Lady Broxton arrived inquiring about your health. Mr. and Miss Turner also stopped by, as did Lords Avery, Banham, and Stokes. Oh, yes, a Lady Eloise Morton also came around. She was quite put out when I made it clear she would not be received.” Edmonds bowed. “Is there anything I can get you, Your Grace?”
“That will be all, Edmonds.”
He bowed and quickly left her in peace.
Good grief. Overnight, her life had turned into a tragedy. Bad decisions, lustful temptations, and the uncanny habit of landing herself in a world of trouble seemed to be her calling in life. Not only was she doomed to be kicked out of her estate, she would not be entirely surprised if she acquired offers to become a mistress to some of the peerage. She sighed. Why did the name Eloise sounded so familiar? Ah! Yes, that damned woman the dowager countess desires her son to marry.
Her housekeeper barreled into the room, huffing and puffing, vibrating with what seemed to be excitement. The floor boards shook, and her silver brush rattled on its mirrored tray. “Your Grace, he is here!” She wrung her hands and stood on her toes, excitement plastered all over her face.
“Who is here?”
“The marquess. Who else would come? He is looking even more dapper than usual, too.”
“I will be right down. Please make sure Edmonds sees to his comfort until I have made myself right.” Her heart fluttered. But the fact that her hair was still disheveled from removing her hat, and the fatigue of stress had irritated her usually clear complexion annoyed her so. She changed into comfortable satin slippers, pinched her cheeks until they were rosy, tucked away a few loose strands of hair, and prepared herself.
The last few days had been awkward and lonely, not being able to speak with him. During these emotional times, she wondered just how sincere and committed he was to her cause. Alone, in a time where most people would have thrived on company, the solitude provided her with a much-needed pause from life. Yet, she had missed Nathaniel terribly.
Once upon a time, she had worshipped the ground he walked on, envied his ability to experience freedom away from this pretentious society. And while serving the war office was no pleasant adventure, he had still managed to see the world and experience it very differently. While he never married, she suspected he had thwarted life-threatening situations and did what he must for his country, no matter how insidious the actions may be perceived by a lady.
In the end, she had come to terms with and accepted the cards they were dealt. She went on to marry a philanderer, who wound up beaten at his own game. And Nathaniel now pursued her once again, much to her chagrin.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, My Lord?” she said, walking downstairs. I wonder what news he brings. The debt is probably larger than what I originally expected. “I honestly did not think you would return, as I have not received any word from you in well over a week.” She studied Nathaniel as he stood guard by the window, rigid and watching the driveway.
He turned to face her, leaning against the sill. “I have come to take you for a drive so that we can discuss my findings and come to an understanding about a few things.”
“Honestly, Nathaniel, I am tired. I have only just arrived, and I am in no mood to argue nor contemplate a fantasy future with you, let alone go for a drive. Can we talk about such things here?”
His face reddened. “Like hell!” He spun on his heels and strode toward her, closing the space between them in seconds. He reached for her wrist, pulling her toward him.
Isabel winced in pain and pounded his chest. “Nathaniel, you brute. That hurt.”
“Now, as I was saying, come along. My driver is waiting for us.”
“Good grief! Have you gone mad, Nathaniel? I am exhausted. Quite frankly, had I known you would be so bull-headed, I would have had Edmonds decline your entrance, too!”
He stared at her blankly before tossing her over his shoulder like she was a common tavern wench. Too appalled to even scream, Isabel folded against him. It wasn’t as if she could run from him. He would only find her and repeat his barbaric actions.
Uneasiness surged every nerve ending from head to toe. He walked past Edmonds and the housekeeper, who both only smiled. They better not have had a hand in this. And out the door they went, garnering the attention of the footmen and the drivers of other carriages passing. Just what exactly did the marquess discover that requires such privacy?
* * * *
Nathaniel closed the carriage and rapped on the window for the driver to move. Why the hell does she feel so unsafe with me? Doesn’t she think I can keep her safe?
For the life of him, he could not understand what caused this sudden shift in the dowager duchess’s behavior. She grumbled the entire time, and even called him a barbarian. He shifted so his knee brushed against her skirt, close enough that he could feel the heat from her on this rainy and dreary morning.
“What has you on edge, darling? Have I ever given you any reason to think I would harm you?”
She frowned. “No, but we should not be doing this, Nathaniel. Haven’t you had enough of this scandal?”
“And what exactly are we doing, love? We are only going for a ride through Hyde Park. There is nothing scandalous about that…well, other than the way I carried you out of your house.” And the next time I do that, I will be tossing you into our marriage bed.
“No, but there is a matter of those unsavory rumors…about the two of us. Have you even managed to stop into the House of Lords to explain your behavior?”
Nathaniel groaned. He owed an explanation to no one. Not to Parliament, his mother, Avonlea, or the haute ton. He burned to have her again, but he would only take her to his bed once they were married and out of public scrutiny. In the end, they would only have to answer to the good Lord for their sins, though they had less to answer for than her late husband.
“My dear, when I said I would see you soon, I certainly meant it. I did not wish to inflict any unnecessary stress until I had all my information straight. Would you like to hear what I have learned?”
She immediately faced him and paled. The poor, dear woman is probably horrified enough that her husband’s sordid affairs are common knowledge.
She nodded. “Well? Don’t keep me waiting, Nathaniel.”
“It would appear that while your husband was engaged in pleasurable activities with Downsbury’s wife, he, too, was being duped. It is rumored that she also strung along Lord Wycliffe. The chaps at White’s and several other establishments have heard through their wives that she has also been out of sight.
“The last time anyone has seen her was at a ball a few wee
ks back when one of the ladies commented on her weight gain. When asked when the child was due, she left the ball at once, in a rage. It is unsure if she is truly with child. And even then, whose child is she carrying?”
She gasped, though the twinkle in her eye denoted amusement.
“I am not even close to being done. Your late husband also lost a sizeable fortune to Downsbury. But not nearly enough that you would need to consolidate your husband’s holdings. He apparently lost the deed to your country estate. With your permission, of course, I could have my man of affairs act in your stead to meet with Henry’s solicitor and see what other debts might be outstanding?”
She sat back, shooting a wary glance. “You would do that for me? Even after all the trouble you have gone through to get this much information?”
Nathaniel pulled her into a tight embrace. I would do anything for her. Why would she question my honor now? “My dear, I would cross pirate-infested seas, battle the fiercest of warriors in the East, and walk over hot coals if it meant I could be with you. When we get to the bottom of this, Isabel, it is my deepest wish to right the wrongs of our past. No matter who objects, I will not settle for less than you.”
“Are you sure, Nathaniel? This is too risky.”
“My dear, risky was our liaison in the gardens. What was said on the matter will soon be nothing but a shadow. Considering the Duchess of Downsbury will have her own scandal posted soon, I would not give it a second thought.”
The carriage came to a halt. Some shouting ensued, and he shushed her. Who the hell is stopping our carriage to engage in a very public argument?
“I desire to speak to my son, this instant!”
Nathaniel gave her grace a displeased frown. “I am truly sorry, in advance, for anything that comes out of that woman’s mouth.”
“Do not say that, Nathaniel. She is your mother!”
“She is my mother all right, and as insane as they come. I suppose we should get this over with.” He hated being put on the spot and even though they were in public, his dear mother would not hold back her wicked tongue. Was it any wonder that she drove his father to drink? He patted Isabel’s leg and knocked on the window, acknowledging he was stepping out.
The moment the door opened, his mother already stood there, preventing his exit. She pushed her way in and glanced over to where Isabel sat quietly, wide-eyed with shock. He looked behind to see his sister, mouth gaping wide and speechless by their mother’s forwardness.
“My Lady, it is highly improper to bully yourself into one’s carriage,” Nathaniel growled.
The countess snorted. “I will do as I wish, and you will not say another word until I am finished.” Pointing her wiry finger at Isabel, she continued her berating, “You…you…miserable excuse for a duchess! You will never have him for a husband, and that you can be sure of!”
“Enough!” Nathaniel barked loud enough that all of Hyde Park could have heard. He gritted his teeth, barely able to stand another syllable from the intolerable woman. No one had the right to talk to Isabel that way, no matter their station. “Get out, Mother, before I toss you out. If you do not cease this nonsense immediately, I will have my sister removed from your care, and then we will see what you have to say.”
“You would not dare,” his mother scowled.
“I would.”
Without so much as another word, the dowager countess exited the carriage.
Relief washed over him. “We are ready. Drive on.” He sat back and released a heavy breath. “Well, I for one am glad that is over. You have my humblest apologies, Isabel. Once the old bat gets started, she tends to carry on.”
Isabel smiled as she rested her head on the window closest to her and closed her eyes. It had not occurred to him how tired she might be. And to think, he had carried her out of the house as if he was some ancient Celt, stealing himself a wife.
Good Lord, he had behaved so barbarically. He had not shown her an ounce of consideration. Next time, he would plan them a picnic with the help of her staff.
* * * *
Her butler rubbed the back of his neck and pressed his lips together.
“Edmonds, what is the matter with you? You look as if you have been caught doing something you should not have. Out with it.”
He blew out a long breath. “Well, Your Grace, it would appear that Lady Broxton has arrived again, and I…permitted her entry.”
Isabel winced. Will this day not end? “Please, Edmonds, no more visitors after Lady Broxton leaves. I do not feel very well. I am beyond exhausted, and I really need the time to think everything over.”
She took a step forward and swayed on her feet. The corridor would not stop moving. Her head spun, and gravity pulled her forward. Her vision clouded, and she gasped for air.
“Your Grace!” Hands came to her aid, steadying her.
“I am fine. I am fine.” She swatted Edmonds’s hands away. “As I said a moment ago, I am quite exhausted.”
Lady Broxton ran out of the parlor. “Your Grace, let me assist you to the dais. I can imagine how exhausted you must be, so I will not keep you for long.” Her guest took her by the elbow, leading her into the room and seating her in her favorite seat by the fireplace.
“Thank you for your assistance, Lady Broxton. My curiosity is piqued, and I am dying to know why you are here a second time today. Surely whatever news you bring could have waited a few more days?”
“I am truly sorry for the inconvenience, Your Grace, but sadly, it could not. There really wasn’t enough time. The invitations had gone out while Your Grace was out of town, and our garden party is tomorrow. I came with haste to invite you, that is, if you are feeling well enough?”
“Thank you for the invitation, Lady Broxton. If I am well enough, you can rest assured I will attend. Although, I am sure you are aware that my attending such an event before my year of mourning is over might be cause for even more scandal.”
“Pish, posh. All of London, one way or another, is involved in their own scandal. And if you are not aware of it already, Her Grace, the Duchess of Downsbury, is rumored to be with child. Though, secretly, we all know it is not the duke’s, either.” She winked.
Isabel’s head pounded relentlessly while her guest went on and on. Finally, she coughed and rose from her seat. “Lady Broxton, while I would love to converse some more, I really must lie down. I am not sure if it was a lack of rest, or perhaps something I ate while at Bath. I have to ask you to leave.”
“Of course, Your Grace. Do be seated, and I will see myself out. Thank you for your time.”
Once the front door closed, Isabel collapsed into her chair. I just need to close my eyes for a bit. I am going to be all right….
Chapter Six
Isabel squinted as morning light flooded her bedchamber, illuminating every corner and bouncing off her looking glass on the dressing table. Good Lord! I feel as if I have slept for a century.
Stiff, parched and light-headed, she rang for assistance. She all but managed to slide out bed and wrap herself in her silk robe when her housekeeper came barreling in. She loved the woman dearly, and praised her for her efficiency, but every time she ran, the bloody floorboards shook.
“Your Grace, you are awake!”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
The housekeeper only started at her with wide eyes, lips pursed.
“Oh, never you mind. I have Lady Broxton’s garden party that I must get ready for. I could use some tea and a bit of toast.”
The woman only gawked then curtsied. “Yes, Your Grace. Right away.”
Isabel’s day was only beginning and something did not feel right. She did not fear facing some of London’s notorious wagging tongues today, but she did not relish the fact that she had to sit with them for tea.
Her personal life and misadventures would surely be the main subject. She did not doubt, even for a moment, that the dowager countess had gone to work in attempting to further damage her reputation. And to think,
Nathaniel insisted on making her his bride. His mother would certainly have an apoplectic fit.
Nathaniel’s threat to remove his sister from their mother’s care also gave her pause in how doting of a brother he could be. Both his mother and sister were fortunate that, unlike some other young men around town, he cared very much for his family, no matter what controversial things they had done. Why, it was only weeks ago that he had heard of what his sister had done after he had left the ball six months ago.
Isabel giggled, remembering the horror splashed across Lady Balfour’s face.
“Good heavens! She actually beat Broxton at Vingt-et-un. The wager was set at twenty-five pounds when Lady Thompson realized what she had done. Poor Lord Broxton never had a chance to escape the sound tongue-lashing her mother gave him on propriety.”
“Your breakfast is ready, Your Grace.”
“Thank you. Could I trouble you to bring me today’s edition of the daily?”
Isabel enjoyed the comic relief that came at the expense of foolish young ladies. Nathaniel’s sister clearly did not enjoy being confined to the strictest of rules when it came to proper decorum and imagined she was quite the handful at the best of times.
She had overheard the ladies talking one evening regarding why young Miss Thompson had been discharged early from the academy. While the details were sketchy, apparently hitting another young lady with a fan, and then pulling said girl’s hair, nearly incited a riot. The antics resulted in candles being knocked over, a small fire being started, and the headmistress losing her only wig to the flames. The child was a magnet for trouble, maybe even more so than she.
Her housekeeper slipped into the room, quietly dropping the news near her tray. The warmth of her tea soothed the dryness in her throat, but the toast was hardly sitting well with her. Isabel scrunched her nose at the aroma. “This smells awful—”