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Authors: Virginia Henley

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BOOK: The Irish Duke
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“James! I’m so glad to see you.” Eighteen-year-old Claud patted Shammar’s neck and led his brother into the stable. “Did you enjoy your visit to Woburn?”
“I enjoyed it immensely. I got on extremely well with the Duke of Bedford and his son Lord John.” James dismounted and allowed his younger brother to tend his horse. “How’s Mother?” When he had last seen her at Christmas she had not yet recovered from giving birth a month earlier. It was the fourth son Aberdeen had fathered on her.
“Frail looking, I’m afraid. But she’s enjoyed my visit, mainly because I don’t allow our ugly stepsisters to abuse her.”
“By God, they’d better not start while I’m here.” At the priory there were three factions of sibling rivalry—Aberdeen’s two surviving daughters from his first marriage, Harriet’s two sons, James and Claud, from
her
first marriage, and four sons from the couple’s second marriage. James thought about the Russell family. He envied the deep affection shared by the siblings and their parents.
The two brothers entered the priory together.
“James, what a lovely surprise,” his mother cried.
He enfolded her in his arms.
Frail looking is an understatement.
He smiled into her eyes, masking the concern he felt. “How are you feeling, Mother?”
“I’m feeling stronger every day, James. I’m so happy to have you for a few days. After dinner, you must tell me all about your visit to Woburn Abbey.”
He could not help comparing her with Georgina Russell. The Duchess of Bedford was vibrant and blooming with health.
She is brimful of wit and laughter, no doubt because she is deeply loved by her husband.
He silently cursed Aberdeen.
At dinner, Aberdeen’s daughters contributed little to the conversation. When they did speak, their manner was petulant. James noticed how thin and colorless they appeared. Their appetites were sparse and he suspected the eldest was consumptive.
After dinner, Claud invited his brother to join him in a visit to the public house in Stanmore village. “The evenings here are an exercise in endless endurance. At least at the pub you get a helping of laughter and music with the ale.”
“I’ll come tomorrow night. I’d like to spend the evening with Mother. Our brothers’ term at Harrow is finished for the summer tomorrow, and once they arrive home they’ll demand all her attention.”
“You mean our
half-brothers.
For all their superior airs at being educated at Harrow, they can’t hide their jealousy of you. Perhaps we should lure them to the pub and get them stinking drunk.”
“That would give Aberdeen an excuse to thrash the devil out of them.”
Claud waggled his dark eyebrows. “Why do you think I suggested it?”
“Go and enjoy yourself.” James was thankful his younger brother had a fun-loving Irish temperament.
James waited until his mother had fed baby Arthur and put him to bed, and then he joined her in her private sitting room. She listened raptly as he described Woburn Abbey and the endlessly fascinating Russell family.
“Do the Duke and Duchess of Bedford have a happy marriage?”
James heard the wistful tone in her voice and it pierced his heart. He decided not to paint the Russells’ marriage in brilliant colors.
“They tolerate each other well enough. He overlooks her extravagance and turns a blind eye to her admirers.”
“That’s because he loves her. Just as your father loved me.” She sighed and then leaned forward and said earnestly, “James, promise me you will never marry without love. Marriage can be difficult even at the best of times, but when you are starved for love and affection, it eats your heart and deadens your soul.”
He squeezed her hand. “That’s an easy promise to make.”
I made my choice a long time ago. Lady Lu pretends complete indifference to me, but the kiss told me all I need to know. Her innocence and vulnerability are irresistible to me.
“You have found someone?”
“Let us say that I have my eye on a certain lady.”
“James, you are so young. You won’t do anything impetuous, will you?”
“Of course not. At least not until I come of age,” he teased.
She smiled tenderly. “You are my firstborn and therefore very special to me. Because you lost your father at such an early age, you were forced to mature early, far beyond your years. I am grateful that you are like a father to Claud. The woman you marry will be a very lucky lady.”
 
When the three brothers arrived home from Harrow the next day, they brought momentous news. “King George is dead! Our headmaster got the news this morning from Windsor Castle.”
“Poor man,” Harriet said with sympathy. “That means the Duke of Clarence will be crowned king. James, didn’t you tell me he was a guest at Woburn?”
“Yes. For a royal prince, William was very down to earth. I quite liked the man. When I danced with Princess Adelaide a few days ago, I had no notion she would soon be queen of England.”
James’s half-brothers glared daggers at him. They already envied him his athletic physique and his titles. Now they were chagrined that he was a friend of the new king and queen of England.
James caught Claud’s eye. The two brothers, well versed in politics, knew the turmoil Prinny’s death would cause in government circles. The pair went outside so they could speak in private.
“Won’t the king’s death trigger an automatic election?”
“Yes. Wellington’s Tories will have to run for reelection,” James confirmed.
“Since Aberdeen is foreign secretary, won’t that mean he’ll lose his office?”
“For the time being, at least. He’ll have to run for reelection and his temper will be foul. The Whigs will give the Tories a run for their money, I can tell you.”
“I don’t want to be here when Aberdeen arrives. I cannot tolerate the overbearing bastard. Can’t we leave for Ireland?” Claud pleaded.
“I hate to leave Mother to bear the brunt of his temper. And we should attend the king’s funeral. Try to be patient.”
That night, James’s mother broached the subject of her husband’s return to Bentley Priory. “Aberdeen will be furious at losing his office and consumed with worry that the Whigs will win a majority and form the next government.”
“Have no fear. I won’t allow him to vent his temper on you, Mother.”
“Actually, James, I think there would be less tension if you and Claud weren’t here. I am well aware that Bentley Priory is yours, but so is Aberdeen. The underlying currents would fill the very air with strife. Not only his daughters, but also his sons would take sides against you in any disagreement.”
“I am a match for them, Mother. The odds don’t trouble me in the least.”
“But it would be less stressful for me, James.”
He felt his throat tighten. “Of course. How insensitive of me.” James enfolded his mother in his arms. He thought of Prinny’s funeral. He knew Louisa would be there and regretted that he would not see her. “Claud and I will leave for Ireland tomorrow.”
Chapter Eight
Montagu House, London
August 1894
 
 
 
D
owager Duchess Louisa turned away from the memories of her past so that she could focus on the family members who had gathered to celebrate her long life.
“Thank you, John Claud.” Louisa took a sip of champagne from the glass her son had brought her. She was rather proud that he was aide-de-camp to the queen. “Does Victoria enjoy French wine?”
“She much prefers a dram of whiskey.” John Claud winked at his mother.
“Ah yes, a habit Victoria picked up when she and Albert came to stay with us for the second time in Scotland. I clearly remember being mortified at your behavior.”
“I was only nine years old.”
“Certainly old enough to know better. When I presented you to the queen, you immediately stood on your head. To add insult to injury, you were wearing a kilt! I scolded you profusely and when I brought you back to the queen so you could apologize, you promptly did it again.”
John Claud grinned. “Mother, you have an amazing memory.”
“It is fortunate for you that Victoria’s memory is no match for mine, or she would never have made you her aide-de-camp.”
“You never know—she may have admired my arse.”
“True. Why should she be different from all the other females you’ve attracted over the years?” She tapped his arm with her fan. “Shush, here’s another speech extolling my virtues. I wonder when they’ll start on my vices?” She thought fleetingly of Victoria’s consort, Prince Albert, and smiled a secret smile.
Louisa Jane, the Duchess of Buccleuch, raised her voice in an attempt to make herself heard above the chatter and clinking of glasses.
“The changes our dear mother has seen in her lifetime are absolutely profound.”
Poor Louisa Jane was pressured into accepting the appointment of mistress of the robes to Queen Victoria when I turned it down.
“Did you know that Mother is the last person living to have visited Carlton House, the magnificent residence that belonged to the late King George IV?”
Louisa’s thoughts took flight, winging back over the years.
King George’s death is indelibly marked in my memory. Not because poor old Prinny turned up his dropsical toes, but because I had just discovered my sister and Abercorn by the lake in flagrante delicto. Oh, how I loathed and detested the Irish devil!
It was almost a year before I saw him again . . .
 
 
 
Belgrave Square, London
May 1831
 
 
“I know the exhibition at the Royal Academy of Art marks the official opening of the season, but I’d prefer not to attend,” Louisa confided to her sister.
“Because Edwin Landseer is exhibiting his paintings?” Georgy asked.
“Exactly. Since William’s wife, Bessy, has gossiped that Landseer is Rachel’s father, half of London will be wondering and whispering.”
“If we attend the exhibition it will give the lie to such gossip. If we stay away, it will confirm it. Apart from that, every titled bachelor in London will be there. I’ve waited two long years for my season, Lu, and I refuse to waste one day of it.”
“I didn’t mean to be thoughtless, Georgy. Of course I’ll attend.”
“I knew you would change your mind. I’m wearing blue, so please don’t choose the same color. I’ve heard that men prefer blue over any other shade.”
 
When the Duke and Duchess of Bedford and their daughters alighted from their carriage in Piccadilly, they joined the fashionable throng gathered at the Academy of Art.
Wearing a white dress with a red sash and a matching hat decorated with silk poppies, Louisa stood out from the other ladies in the crowd.
The prime minister’s son, George Grey, saw her immediately and greeted her warmly. “It would give me great pleasure to escort you through the exhibition, my lady.”
Teddy Fox took Louisa’s hand and raised it to his lips. “I prefer that I escort you, though if you insist, I suppose George Grey may tag along.”
“Neither of you has any manners,” she whispered. “You must include my sister.”
Georgy appeared as if from nowhere. “Teddy! Congratulations on winning the seat from Horsham.” She suddenly pretended an interest in government affairs. “Lu and I are dying to come to the visitors’ gallery and watch you on the floor of the Commons.”
“You’ll find me on the back row benches, not the floor, I’m afraid.”
Georgy rubbed his arm and gave him a saucy glance. “It isn’t like you to be modest, Teddy. I’m sure you’ll soon
thrust
yourself to the forefront.” She pulled on his arm. “Let’s go this way. You can explain the paintings to me.”
Earl Grey kissed the Duchess of Bedford’s cheek. “If John didn’t come, I’ll be happy to act as your escort, Your Grace.”
“Having the honor of being escorted by the prime minister of England will make me the envy of every female here today.” Georgina tucked her arm into Grey’s. “John did accompany us, but because he’s Landseer’s patron, they’ll tour the exhibition together.”
Prime Minister Grey introduced his sister Hannah and her husband, Edward Ellice. He was a Scottish Whig MP, whom Grey had appointed Whip in his new government.
“I’m delighted to meet you. I shall add you to the invitation list for my daughters’ debutante ball next week.”
Lady Grey greeted Georgina. “We shall all come and you must return the favor. We are hosting a Prime Minister’s Ball in June.”
“Mary, it sounds
trés
elegant. We will be honored to attend.”
Mary lowered her voice. “Don’t look now, but I believe the Duchess of Kent and her daughter Victoria are about to join us.”
Prime Minister Grey made the introductions, and the duchess spoke directly to Georgina. “Lady Bedford, I know your husband is the patron of Edwin Landseer. My daughter is enchanted with his animal portraits, and we are simply dying to meet him.”
“Of course. Mr. Landseer will be honored.”
Twelve-year-old Princess Victoria stood gazing at Lady Louisa. In addition to her dark beauty, the colors she had chosen to wear drew every eye.
Lu smiled warmly at the plain young princess. “Are you enjoying the exhibition, Your Highness?”
“Oh yes, especially the animal portraits by Edwin Landseer. They are so lifelike. I would love him to paint my little dog. He’s called Dash.”
“You couldn’t have chosen a better artist,” Louisa said truthfully.
The Duchess of Kent swept Louisa with an envious glance. “Come along, Victoria. It’s rude to stare. Lady Bedford has agreed to introduce the wildlife artist to us.”
BOOK: The Irish Duke
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