‘It’s nothing, Your Grace.’ Masters replied evenly. ‘We’re just doing our jobs.’
‘No, it’s more than that and you know it.’ The Duke muttered as he yanked his black britches over his hips. ‘You could all have resigned before she died.’
The valet tightened the buckles at his knees before the Duke forced his feet into a pair of shiny Hessians, Masters pulled himself to his impressive height and looked down on the Duke. ‘I have always served the house of Warwick and I will continue to do so until my dying day.’ He held out the fine linen shirt for the Duke. ‘No wicked Duchess is going to force me to leave.’ He reached for the cravat as the Duke buttoned himself up to the collar, tucked his shirt in and turned around. ‘And I’m surprised you thought she could, Your Grace.’ Masters finished as he tied a sombre knot in the black cravat.
‘My apologies, Masters.’ The Duke murmured, as he turned again and stuck his arms out for Masters to jerk the fitted jacket over his arms and shoulders. He turned back and smiled. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you. Your loyalty has been the only good thing in the last four years.’
Masters pulled the jacket straight, smoothed the creases from shoulders and arms, picked up a clothes brush and flicked it over the jacket in a proprietary way. ‘That’s all right, Your Grace. No offence taken. It was the Duchess we didn’t like, not you.’ Masters stepped away and John checked his appearance in the mirror.
‘Very good, Masters.’ He smiled again. ‘I think I’ll stop by the nursery on my way downstairs. After all, it’s not her fault, is it?’ he asked rhetorically and strode from his chambers, leaving Masters smiling in his wake.
John entered the nursery with trepidation. Would the wet nurse be feeding his child? He thought as he opened the door to hear a baby crying. He walked cautiously into the school room, to find the wet nurse pacing the floor and rocking his baby with a soothing voice.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asked and she jumped and spun on her heel.
‘Oh! Your Grace!’ she blurted and dropped into an inelegant curtsey. ‘I didn’t expect to see you.’
‘Why ever not?’ he asked indignant.
‘Well, it being today.’ The nurse said cryptically.
He frowned at her for a moment and then nodded at the bundle of rags in her arms. ‘What is wrong with her?’ he asked.
‘It’s just some colic, Your Grace.’ The nurse said and jiggled the baby in her arms. He looked carefully at this young girl and could see dark circles under her eyes.
‘How long has she been crying?’ he asked and approached the nurse.
‘Since last evening, Your Grace.’ The nurse said and he could hear the quiver in her voice, as if she was afraid.
‘I’m afraid I know nothing about babies.’ The Duke said uncomfortably. ‘I’ve only seen her once.’
The nurse smiled brightly at him. ‘In that case, Your Grace, it’s time you learned.’ She said and offered the screaming bundle to him.
‘How do I hold her?’ he asked and smiled back. The nurse manoeuvred the baby into his arms and suddenly he looked down into his daughter’s face, beetroot red and scrunched up in her discomfort. ‘What is colic?’ he asked.
‘Trapped wind, Your Grace. Most babies suffer from it.’ She looked at the rocking chair. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll show you the best ways to get rid of it?’
Without a thought, John stepped over to the fire and sat in the rocking chair. The nurse spread a towel over his legs. ‘Now, lay her on her face.’ John had no idea how to even manoeuvre the baby in his arms and looked at the nurse in trepidation. ‘Have you ever handled a puppy or a cat?’ she asked and the Duke nodded. ‘Then this is much the same. Don’t be afraid of her, because she will sense it. Just lay her on your lap.’ The nurse opened the blanket as John laid the wriggling body on his knee. ‘Now, put your hands under her arms and roll her over your hand onto her face.’ John complied with these instructions and suddenly his daughter was draped over his knee. ‘Now pat her back.’ John laid his hand over her back and was surprised that it covered her from her head to her thighs. ‘Just gently pat her with your fingers.’ The nurse said as she moved his hand into the right position. Slowly he followed the nurse’s instructions and lightly tapped his fingers on the baby’s back. ‘You can do it harder than that. The idea is to shift the wind.’ John patted more firmly and was surprised when the baby stopped screaming and settled to a pitiful wail. John patted a little harder and the cry turned to a whimper, and then suddenly a large eructation emitted from her backside and silence reigned supreme. ‘Just the ticket.’ The nurse murmured. ‘Why couldn’t she do that an hour ago?’ She bestowed a beaming smile of the Duke. ‘You’re a natural, Your Grace. Have you thought of a name for her?’
‘A name?’ he asked and looked up at the nurse. ‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Well, you’ll have to have a name for her christening.’ The nurse said helpfully. ‘You can stop patting her now. Just rub her back to keep the contact.’ She smiled again. ‘In fact, you could pick her up and hold her against you chest, so that she can hear your heart-beat.’ John gingerly turned the baby over and the nurse wrapped the blanket around her flailing limbs. ‘Her mother’s heart-beat has been in her ear from the moment she was conceived.’ She went on to explain, ‘and that’s what she listens for. She’s usually quiet while I feed her.’
The nurse lapsed into silence and stood by while John stared into the face of his daughter. She had a little button nose and heart shaped lips. She sighed deeply, making him smile and suddenly she opened her eyes to focus on him. She reached her little hand out of the blanket and John offered his finger. As her hand clasp around it John’s heart was lost to the wonder of a child. His child. He rubbed his thumb gently over the back of her tiny hand and asked ‘What am I going to call you?’
‘What about Elizabeth, Your Grace?’ the wet nurse asked softly. ‘With that golden hair she’ll seem like a queen.’
‘Will it stay that colour?’ he asked and reluctantly looked away from his daughter’s blue eyes.
‘Probably, but you never really know.’ She smiled gently, ‘and her eyes might not remain blue.’
‘I shall be interviewing for a nanny in the next few days, do you know of anyone that would like the post?’
‘As a matter of fact, I do, Your Grace.’ She murmured. ‘My Aunt, she has spent years looking after my mothers and my children and I always said she should be a professional.’
‘Then invite her along for an interview and I’ll consider her.’ The Duke said magnanimously.
Suddenly the door opened. ‘Is this the nursery?’ His mother’s voice sounded as Verity appeared in the doorway.
‘It would appear so, Mother.’ She said and smiled at John. ‘We are too late. It would seem that John has beaten us to it.’ She walked in and smiled at her brother. ‘Getting acquainted?’
‘I am.’ John said. ‘This is my daughter, Elizabeth.’ He wiggled the baby’s hand, ‘and this is your Aunt Verity and your Grandmother.’
Verity scooped the bundle from his arms and rocked her expertly. ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ She murmured and kissed the baby’s cheek.
‘She definitely has the Farrington nose.’ His mother sighed and smiled softly. ‘She looks exactly like you did.’
‘Well, I must away to the guests.’ John said and smiled at the nurse. ‘I’ll be back up to see her later.’
‘Very good, Your Grace.’ She smiled sweetly, ‘maybe we can tackle a nappy change or a bath, then.’
John left with alacrity as the three women laughed loudly.
Chapter Three
Jessica Gordon looked at her reflection in the mirror without interest. Her dark hair was intricately coiffured, her gown was of the finest satin, pale blue rather than ivory, and she was holding a bouquet of roses. Her mother bustled into the room.
‘Aren’t you ready yet?’ she demanded, picked up the dark blue wool cloak and draped it over Jessica’s shoulders.
‘I don’t want to marry him, mama.’ Jessica said softly, as if it was a repetition that she had made a thousand times and nobody was listening any more. Helen turned her and did up the clasp.
‘It doesn’t matter what you want. Your father and The Earl have made the marriage agreement. Neither of you can escape it now!’
‘But, I’ve told you. I did not go into the bushes with David Carruthers!’ Jessica uttered, totally exasperated now.
Lady Helen Gordon was appalled that Jessica should be caught in such a compromising position. She’d believed that Jessica would know better than to allow a man carnal knowledge of her before marriage, but she was obviously wrong. It didn’t once cross her mind that the gossip had been set deliberately and that Jessica was innocent. But it was ruinous not only to Jessica’s reputation, but also by association, her sister’s as well. Although Lady Helen did admit that her two eldest daughters deserved to be vilified and weren’t.
‘It doesn’t matter whether you did or didn’t go into the shrubbery with him. The gossip has been awful and the only way to save the family and the reputations of your sisters is for you to marry. I don’t want to hear another word about this matter. It is over and done with. You will walk into the chapel and marry Lord Carruthers if it’s the last thing you do!’
‘It probably will be the last thing I do.’ Jessica muttered.
‘Everything will be fine.’ Helen said cajolingly. ‘I know you can’t be nervous about tonight, not as you were caught in the act at Devon’s party.’
‘I was not caught in the act!’ Jessica shouted vehemently. ‘I did nothing with David Carruthers at Devon’s party. All I did was sit and cry in the garden!’
‘Enough!’ Roared Wilbur Gordon from the doorway. ‘This matter is now closed and you will marry Carruthers.’ He grabbed Jessica by the wrist and yanked her along behind him as he made his way downstairs. He was disgusted that his little Jessica, the apple of his eye would be as wanton as her sisters. He was still of a mind to thrash the life out of David Carruthers for destroying her innocence. Like his wife, he didn’t doubt that the gossip was right and that she had wantonly let David Carruthers fuck her like a randy dog. It was unfortunate that Wilbur Gordon was suddenly forced to see Jessica for what she was, a grown woman, instead of the little girl he’d always indulged and adored.
Jessica was annoyed that not even Cecily was allowed to accompany her to the church. In fact she hadn’t seen one of her siblings from the moment her father had thrown her into the coach with her mother and sent them home from the ball. It had seemed strange, after a lifetime of sleeping in the same room as Cecily, to be alone. Her mother had escorted her up to a spare room in the attic and promptly locked her in. The maids had delivered her clothes and her meals, but wouldn’t speak to her.
Wilbur Gordon kept his vice like grip on her wrist as he pushed her into the carriage. Once he’d sat and forced Jessica down in the seat beside him, the carriage jerked into motion. He released her hand and patted it affectionately. ‘There, there, my dear. Everything will be fine once you are married.’ He said placatingly.
For Jessica the forced calmness meant nothing, she wasn’t calm or accepting of the situation and tried again. ‘Fine for whom?’ she blurted. She took a deep breath to calm herself. ‘I don’t want to marry David Carruthers, he’s going to Portugal.’ She said calmly, knowing petulance wouldn’t get her anywhere. She had to be an adult in her father’s eyes, instead of the little girl he’d always tried to keep her.
‘Then maybe you should have kept your skirts down around your ankles!’ her father snapped. His emotions ranged from shame to rage at the behaviour of his youngest daughter. He was disgusted that she was like the rest and couldn’t stop herself from shaming her family.
‘But I didn’t do what’s being bantered about!’ Jessica shouted, the frustration and anger overflowing.
‘I don’t care.’ Her father shouted back. ‘I should have tanned your hide at the time, instead of trying to apologise for a little harlot!’
Jessica sat back after that response from her beloved father. She looked out of the window and again saw David Carruthers in the bushes with Lady Jane Saddleworth. I wonder what they’ll think when I don’t produce a child seven or eight months from now? She thought and decided that she’d finally had enough of her family. She had gone from worshipped to vilified in the space of an hour, just for being alone in the garden and weeping because somebody had told her about the death of the Duchess of Warwick. She had cried softly for the handsome Duke, knowing he would be distraught at the death of his wife. She had seen David Carruthers emerge from the shrubbery just after Lady Saddleworth, who was married to Lord Saddleworth; the Baron of Rochdale, had vanished back into the ballroom. David had stared at her in horror, but Jessica wasn’t really paying attention, she just wiped her eyes and turned away. Eventually she returned to the ballroom, to be dragged from the room and questioned by her father about her behaviour and since that day nobody had believed she was innocent.
The coach pulled up outside the little church of St. Mary-le-Bow. Her father yanked her out of the carriage and frog marched her into the church, rushing her up the aisle until they were stood before the altar, with his hand still tight about her upper arm. Of David Carruthers and his family there was no sign.
‘I think we must be early.’ Jessica muttered and tried to prise her arm from her father grip, but he wouldn’t let go. He was terrified his wayward daughter would run from the church if he let her go. He full remembered how much of a virago she could be and was well capable of bolting from the church.
There was a rattle of livery and then the sound of running feet and David Carruthers burst into the chapel. He was dressed in his Household Brigade uniform, the britches hugging his well muscled thighs and the shiny boots flaring up past his knees. His brightly plumed golden helmet clasped under his arm and his sabre bouncing against his hip. He looked the epitome of a Cavalry Officer. His almost white, platinum hair shone in the sun streaming through the doorway and as he arrived at the altar the light from the stained glass window gave him a satanic appearance. She was astonished to see an almost cruel look of glee on his face.
‘Sorry we’re late.’ David said. ‘I was getting my things together for departure.’
Jessica slumped in defeat. Up until that point she’d hoped that David Carruthers would admit the truth, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to. Behind him was another man, she hadn’t taken any notice of him up until this point, but he was the image of David, except his hair was golden, rather than white. They are probably twins, she thought and as she appraised them both, she was surprised by their compact forms. Both men had impressive shoulders, well enhanced by the cut of their jackets, but neither of them was excessively tall. But, where David looked cruel, his twin looked kind. His eyes had a soft expression and he smiled beautifully at Jessica, trying to put her at ease. He was dressed formally in evening wear.
‘Mr. Gordon. This is my brother Lord Anthony.’ He made the introductions.
‘Shall we?’ he said and Jessica’s father actually released her arm into David’s firm grip.
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ she whispered at the altar.
‘I’ll tell you later.’ He whispered back and then looked at the vicar and paid attention.
When the Vicar asked for her consent she stood there mute and her father said firmly ‘Yes, she does.’
‘Is this girl a minor?’ the vicar asked indignantly and before Jessica could open her mouth to tell him her age and that she did not, her father said ‘Yes. I speak for her.’ In horror Jessica stood and watched her soul consigned to perdition on the word of her father. The disgust she felt was enormous. He spoke the vows for her and she almost cried as David forced the ring on her finger. ‘You may kiss the bride.’ The Vicar said, but he couldn’t hide the frown that accompanied the words. He’d never seen such a marriage ceremony where the bride was all but gagged. He felt very sorry for her as
he watched them sign the register.
As they turned away, David Carruthers gave her a perfunctory kiss on the lips. It was done. ‘Lord Anthony will be accompanying you to the family estate at Ross-on-Wye in Gloucestershire.’ David said abruptly to Jessica. Her life had been transferred to the care of David Carruthers and he was relinquishing it to his brother and father.
‘Where will you be?’ she asked startled.
‘I’ll be sorting my luggage onto the Persephone in the Pool of London. I have to be aboard by three o’clock.’ He said coldly pulling his fob and consulting his watch. ‘It’s nearly two o’clock now, so I must bustle.’ He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and ran down the aisle and then they heard the jingle of the livery as his carriage pulled away.
Jessica stood there with her mouth open and then she turned her shocked gaze on to the other Carruthers. Anthony made a rueful face and shrugged his shoulders. He took her hand and gently kissed the backs of her fingers. ‘Welcome to the family of Dean, Lady Jessica.’ He murmured.
‘Congratulations, I hope you will be very happy.’ Her father said coldly, making Anthony look at him sharply.
Jessica turned her head slowly to her father. Feeling every single year of her twenty one years, Jessica stiffened her spine, determined not to cry in her father’s presence. ‘Do you know, Mr. Gordon?’ she said formally. ‘It is heart warming how much faith you’ve had in your youngest daughter and I think you should be proud of just how you have handled this difficult situation.’ She coldly looked her father in the eye as he squirmed. ‘I shall never see you again. Not you or any of my family. If you write I shall burn your letters unopened. I have done nothing to deserve this treatment and I am disappointed in you as a father! I only hope nobody spread malicious gossip about any of my sister’s because I shall have the deepest sympathy for their position.’ She turned to Anthony Carruthers. ‘Thank you for agreeing to accompany me My Lord, but I think it will be unlikely that I will need you.’ and holding her head high she walked down the aisle to the doors. Once outside, she threw her bouquet at the street urchins that were hanging around and then looked at the two carriages, she went straight to the Carruthers coach and climbed in the door. Anthony rushed to catch up with her and settled himself in the seat.
The Duke and The Governess Page 4
