Authors: Lucinda Brant
“Now I have letters to write, and you must go to bed,” she added with forced cheerfulness. “Tomorrow morning after breakfast, you and I we will call at the Gatehouse Lodge and everything it will arrange itself.”
They retired for the night, neither saying what was on both their minds: The hope Shrewsbury had allowed Rory an uneventful night, and they would arrive at the Gatehouse Lodge before the Spymaster had the chance to shatter his granddaughter’s hopes and dreams. As it turned out they were almost too late.
A
NTONIA
ENTERED
the Gatehouse Lodge, announced by the butler, into a drawing room where the tension crackled louder than the fire in the grate. Why there was a fire on such a warm day, she could only wonder at, as she stripped off her silk half-gloves and shrugged bare shoulders out of a pretty India shawl. Both articles were mechanically handed into thin air, and swiftly taken by her lady-in-waiting, who had accompanied the Duchess with her own task to perform. At the first opportunity, Michelle was to slip away and seek out Rory’s maid, to have Miss Talbot’s personal belongings packed up and ready to be transported up the hill to the dower house.
Antonia swept across the threshold in a rustle of silk petticoats, noble host come to see the occupants of her Gatehouse Lodge. She was dressed more appropriately for an evening soiree at her son’s palatial mansion, than for a morning visit on a country lodge. Her robe
à la française
was of luxurious India glazed cotton, with matching shoes affixed with diamond buckles, and the décolletage was cut so low across her ample breasts that every man in the room affixed his admiring gaze on her legendary bosom.
There were three men, Lord Shrewsbury, Lord Grasby, and Mr. William Watkins. It was at this tall lanky gentleman Antonia paused to study, her arched brows lifting slightly at sight of his bent nose, and both eyes ringed in fading bruises. The only female present was the pretty auburn-haired Lady Grasby, and it was she who was cut off mid-sentence upon the butler’s announcement Her Grace the Duchess of Kinross had come to call.
Antonia was not certain but it seemed that it was Lord Grasby and his grandfather who were most tense. She wondered if it had anything to do with Rory, and later had this confirmed. But for now, whatever the disagreement between the two men, it was put aside in her presence.
Everyone in the room was instantly on their feet, to bow or curtsy, and then politely remained silent waiting for the Duchess to speak. After an exchange of pleasantries and a few inane comments about the weather, Antonia asked lightly, looking about the cozy room for added effect,
“I do not see my goddaughter. I trust Rory she is well?”
“Very well, your Grace,” Shrewsbury replied quickly. “Would you care for a dish of coffee? We have just had a pot and it would be no trouble to have another fetched…”
Antonia closed her eyes at the thought and waved a hand in refusal.
“Apparently my little sister has taken to sleeping late in the country,” Lord Grasby offered, the tone of his voice suggesting he did not believe it for a moment. Antonia saw his gaze dart to his grandfather as he added, “I thought she would be up and awaiting our arrival, particularly when my letter hinted we have an exciting announcement we wished to share with her—”
“Lady Grasby has made us all the happiest of men,” Lord Shrewsbury announced proudly with a wide smile. “I am to be a great-grandfather in the new year, Grasby a father, and Mr. Watkins a proud uncle.”
Lady Grasby gave a light laugh behind her fluttering fan and needlessly confided in Antonia.
“I thought it was the intolerably hot weather making me peevish. But then I realized I have not been myself for some months now. And a visit by the physician confirmed what I had hoped for, but did not dare to dream could be the real reason for my indifferent health.” She put a hand to her shoulder, and her husband, who was standing behind her chair, took it in a firm clasp. She looked up at him before returning her gaze to Antonia with a smile that resembled the cat who had found the cream. “Even though it must be many years since your last pregnancy, no doubt your Grace can recall that feeling of utter elation that comes with knowing one is fulfilling the hopes and dreams of an entire family.”
“
Grands dieux
, another baby on the way. There must be something in the water,” Antonia muttered, then smiled at the happy couple, offering up her congratulations and adding cryptically, “Believe me, Lady Grasby, that feeling of elation of which you speak was only yesterday for me. You have made your family happy, particularly your husband’s grandpapa. I pray you have a son, but a healthy child is what is most wished for. But where is Rory?” she continued in a practiced tone of enquiry, head slightly cocked. “You did not wait to share your most exciting announcement until all the family it could be together?”
“That’s what I wanted, but—”
“Under the circumstances, Lord Shrewsbury gauged it best not to wait,” William Watkins stated, cutting off Lord Grasby, and with a swift glance exchanged with Lord Shrewsbury, which alerted Antonia that both men knew more than the Grasbys as to why Rory was not present.
Antonia’s green eyes widened. “Circumstances, M’sieur Watkins? What circumstances are these that preclude a loved family member from such a momentous occasion as knowing a baby it is on the way? I was told Rory she was not unwell…?”
“That’s what I said, your Grace,” Grasby agreed with a pout at William Watkins. “After all, Rory will be an aunt, and no one would be more excited than she at the prospect! I don’t see why we couldn’t wait until—”
“She is well, your Grace,” Lord Shrewsbury stated, cutting off his grandson not only with words, but with a look. He quickly refocused his attention on his visitor, saying with a forced smile. “But you understand why my grandson’s wife could not wait to tell me. Particularly as it is such badly-wanted news. We were about to toast the health of her ladyship and the baby, and would be honored if you would join us.”
“Of course,” Antonia said, gaze now firmly on the old man. “When Rory she joins us. Please to have her fetched, Edward.”
“That is not possible, your Grace.”
“I have a great desire to see my goddaughter. That is why me I am here.”
“If you returned on the morrow perhaps then—”
“No. That would not suit me at all. It would be most inconvenient. I am here now. I wish to see her, now.”
Lord Shrewsbury took a step towards her.
“Your Grace, as I said, I regret that is not possible.”
Antonia looked past the old man’s velvet sleeve at Lord and Lady Grasby who were exchanging a puzzled glance, while Mr. William Watkins was uncannily composed.
“I am certain her brother he would like Rory to join in the toast. Perhaps, Harvel, you would be so good as to fetch your sister?”
Mention of him by his birth name gave her Lord Grasby’s undivided attention and he said without a second thought, “I do want Rory here when we make the toast, your Grace. She should be here with us. I’ll go and fetch her and we can—”
“No! I said no,” Lord Shrewsbury snarled through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath and was again his urbane self. “I forbid you or any one to go near her room! Is that understood? Grasby? Is it?”
Grasby looked from his wife to his brother-in-law, to the Duchess, and then to his grandfather.
“Why, Grand? Why can’t I see my sister? What’s-what’s going on?”
“Edward, a word. Alone,” Antonia commanded.
She was not required to explain herself. Lord and Lady Grasby bowed to rank and silently shuffled from the room. Antonia gave a jerk of her upswept coiffure to the door, and Michelle curtsied and went off to do her bidding. Mr. William Watkins hesitated in the doorway, as if he was somehow excluded from the imperious command because he was also Lord Shrewsbury’s secretary. A haughty lift of Antonia’s arched brows and he bowed and was gone, leaving the Spymaster and the Duchess alone in the heated drawing room.
“I am too unwell to expend energy on your stretches of the truth, so me, I will come to the point,” Antonia said in her native tongue. “You, Edward, will then do what is best for Rory.
Vous me comprenez
?”
“What I understand, Mme la Duchesse,” Shrewsbury replied politely, “is that you are interfering in a family matter that is none of your concern.”
“Is it not my concern? You vastly underestimate me if you think Monseigneur and I, we have not had an interest in the happiness of those two children left in your care since the tragic deaths of both their parents.”
At that, the Spymaster lost patience and threw up an arm.
“For God’s sake, Antonia, why bring up such tragic history on this of all days, when I have just been told I am to be a great-grandfather? Leave my son and his wife to rest in peace, and allow me to enjoy the moment. This is a day for celebration.”
Antonia took a turn about the small cluttered room, to distance herself from the smell of stale coffee coming from the tray of used coffee things. She unlatched a mullioned window and pushed it open, hoping for fresh air, before turning to face Shrewsbury.
“I am happy Drusilla she is to give the earldom of Shrewsbury an heir, and me I certainly would like nothing better than to leave your son and his wife to lie peacefully in their graves. But you, Edward, do not deserve your happiness when you have denied Christina’s child hers.”
“Denied her happiness? I have saved Rory from a lifetime of heartache. I will tell you what I told Fitzstuart: Rory is not equipped to be the center of Society’s attention as the wife of a nobleman, and he is not a fit husband for her. I will not give my blessing to such a union, and I will use every recourse available to me to keep them apart. Rory belongs with me. There is nothing you can say or do that will make me change my mind. It is fixed. So, please, Mme la Duchesse, I appreciate you came here with the best of intentions, and no doubt at Fitzstuart’s behest, but it is to no purpose. You can tell him from me: If he persists, I will have no hesitation in showing Rory White’s betting book as tangible proof his intentions were nothing more than lascivious.”
“You do know he loves her with his whole heart and soul?”
Shrewsbury blustered his disbelief. “So he tried to convince me!”
Antonia’s green eyes narrowed. “You have never been in love, Edward, so how would you know?”
At that he laughed, as if she had told him something highly amusing. And then his blue eyes went cold and he dared to look her over as a man does a woman he desires but cannot have, gaze finally fixing on her décolletage. “Perhaps not. But I know lust and how to scratch an itch.”
“That is a pathetic attempt at intimidation, even for you. Lift your eyes from my breasts to my face, Edward, and attend me! You do not frighten me in the least. This is what you will do: Put to the flame that page of White’s betting book with that ridiculous wager scribbled down by a group of silly boys and accepted by an even sillier boy. No doubt in their drunken state they thought it a great lark! You will also give your blessing to Rory marrying the man she loves. If you do not do both these things at once, I will go to my son and tell him what I know about you.”
“Go to Roxton? Tell
him
something about-about
me
that
you
know?” Shrewsbury’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Oh I do love to watch you when you are fervent! God, you must have exhausted my old friend between the sheets!” He lost his smile. “I won’t give in to either of those foolish demands. Now, please, Mme la Duchesse, won’t you stamp your pretty foot for me, and have done with this melodramatic nonsense.”
“I do not think I am being melodramatic when I say you greatly respect my son, because he is a man of the highest morals, and it helps he is also the most powerful duke in England. He Roxton also regards you with great affection. You would not want to lose his respect and worse, have him force you to retire from your post as Spymaster General in disgrace.”
Again Shrewsbury laughed, but this time in disbelief.
“Dear God, Antonia, are you threatening
me
? I am more aroused than ever!”
Antonia pulled a face of disgust and put up her little nose. “I do not threaten. It is what will happen if you do not do as I say.”
The old man shook his head and put his chin in his hand, done with the playful banter.
“By all means go to Roxton with your tales. I think you will find your son’s moral sensibilities will be far more disturbed by Fitzstuart’s behavior and his wager to tup a cripple, than anything you can possibly tell him about me.”
Antonia took a deep breath and made one last attempt to make Shrewsbury see reason.
“Edward, you would truly break Rory’s heart than see her happily married to the man she loves, and who loves her?”
“Yes. It is for her own good.”
Antonia’s shoulders slumped. But then, resolved, she squared her back and clasped her hands in front of her.
“Then you leave me no choice but to use the promise Monseigneur made to you, against you. We did not become godparents to Rory because you asked it of us, but because her mother, she asked it of me before her baby it was born. Yes. That surprises you. You forget perhaps that your daughter-in-law she and I are the same age, or would have been had she lived. Our sons, too, were near in age. We met in the park and then began having afternoon tea and would watch our babies play together.”
It was obvious this was news to the old man.
“What could you possibly have in common with the bastard daughter of a seamstress? She was from Norway; she could barely write her name, least of all speak English.”
“I told you. We were of the same age and had baby sons of about the same age. What more than that was needed? We spoke in French. English it was unimportant.
J'ai compris
! You think as a duchess I should have spurned her because of her low origins? She was married to your son and heir, and as such was Lady Grasby. What’s more, she had the sweetest temperament and was the kindest person, just like her daughter Rory. They have a great look of each other, although Christina she was prettier. When we strolled up the Mall we would often be mistaken for twins, such was our likeness. We would sometimes wear similar clothes to make it so, and giggle behind our fans as people looked at us and looked a second time…” Antonia made a motion of dismissal with her hand and brought her emotions under control before such bittersweet memories got the better of her. “None of that is important now. What is, is Rory’s happiness, and that I know the truth: Christina took her own life because she could no longer live with the shame of what she allowed you to do to her.”