The Scandalous Love of a Duke (25 page)

The next ten minutes were overwhelming as the children surrounded them and the girls wished to know what she had worn. They had not heard John say they were only married today. They asked what flowers she’d had. What bonnet she wore, if her dress was embroidered? So many questions she evaded with foolish comments like, “I was far too excited to remember.”

When the chaos subsided, John’s mother whispered, “Call me Ellen, Kate, and ask me anything you wish.”

Katherine nodded, more grateful than she could say. But then John’s fingers braced her waist. “I asked Finch to gather the staff downstairs, Mama. We should go down, Katherine.” Oh, she only wished she was at least suitably dressed.

“They are angry,” she said as they left the room. His arm was still about her.

“Not because it is you, Katherine, but because I married without telling them, and because of the child. Do not fret over it. We are going to be judged. We can do nothing about it except ignore it. We are going to have to bear the storm.”

When they reached the top of the stairs, he let her go but then offered his arm in a formal gesture.

She glanced at him and saw him clothe himself in his ducal armour.

A footman in the hall opened the library door when they stepped from the bottom stair.

She looked up at John and saw his eyes were diamond hard when they entered. She had faced his family with John, she was doing this alone.

The room of people bowed and curtsied, and her new status struck hard. Her heart pounded as she bid people rise and was then introduced to each by the butler. She felt an utter fraud, and when the housekeeper asked to meet with Her Grace, to discuss the running of the house, Katherine felt like laughing. She had the order of this house, of Pembroke Place, of… Lord, she did not even know where John’s other properties were. She would have to ask Phillip, she would not embarrass herself and ask John.

A footman came into the room. “Your Grace, forgive me, but this urgent message arrived.”

John took the letter as Katherine asked the housekeeper how the staff were ordered below her. Perhaps it was a standard thing and Katherine ought to know, but she felt the need to ask something and it was all she could think of.

“Damn,” John cursed behind her. She turned. “Sorry, Katherine,” he whispered. “I’m afraid I need to go out.”

Go out…

“I have business I need to discuss. I’m sorry,” he said again. “You’ll have to stay here. Go up and speak with Mama, she’ll help you settle in.”

Katherine’s mouth fell open, but she closed it again before it had chance to gape. “I’d rather lie down,” she responded. “I get tired…” She could not face his parents alone. He seemed to have forgotten all he’d told her of how little he got on with them. She would sleep and then he’d be back.

He looked into her eyes and there was a flash of John somewhere deep within them. Then he turned away and looked at his butler. “Finch, have one of the maids take Her Grace upstairs to the Duchess’s chambers, would you?” He looked back at her.

She thought he would kiss her. He did not. She still longed to be held, but he did not do that either. “I cannot say how long this will take, Katherine, I will be back as soon as I can. Goodbye.” He nodded at her, still in his ducal skin, and then he left her among his servants and disappeared into the hall. She could hear him being given his coat, hat and gloves.

“Your Grace,” the butler said, and for a moment she was confused because John was in the hall, but then she realised Finch was speaking to her. “If you will follow me?”

She nodded, ridiculously feeling as though she should curtsy. John’s staff would laugh for weeks if she did something so gauche.

She heard the front door closing behind John as she stepped into the hall.

~

John’s head was swimming as he climbed the stairs. Wareham had disappeared. Harvey’s men had lost him before he’d reached Dover. They’d no idea where he was now.

Harvey had written to John as soon as he’d heard, asking John to come and make a statement to a magistrate.

John had ended up presenting evidence for hours. The magistrate had made him repeat things numerous times and asked God knows how many questions, as a clerk had sat next to John scribbling it all down. But now, with the help of the militia, messages had gone out to search all ports.

John looked at a clock on the landing. It was nearly midnight. It was far too late to join Katherine in bed, she’d be sleeping.

A fine wedding night this?

“John?” John turned and faced his stepfather who stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to the next floor.

“Yes.”

“May I speak to you a moment?”

John sighed, “If you wish.”

Edward led John to the family drawing room. It was empty. His mother and Mary had retired then, which meant John was probably right about Katherine.

One candelabrum was left burning, presumably awaiting his return in case he wished to dally in here on his wedding night. As if that was likely? And yet here he was. Perhaps his servants knew him better than he knew himself?

“Your mother is upset,” Edward began.

Too mentally exhausted for this conversation and feeling belligerent, John answered, “She has no need to be, it is Katherine who has good cause. She is carrying the child.”

“How far gone is she?”

“Almost three months.”

There was judgement in Edward’s eyes, they both knew three months made it the night of the dinner party at The Place, and Edward would also know John had not been near The Place since. “You’ll not be able to hide it for long.”

“We know. I am not going to publish the marriage and leave the date obscure. There is good reason for it to have been quiet because of my mourning.”

“You sound like your grandfather, all matter of fact.”

“Do not preach to me, Papa, remember I know the truth about a certain parlour in a gambling den…” John lifted his eyebrows.

“I am not preaching,” Edward growled in a low voice, “and if you dare raise that again, I might forget my principles and strike you. Besides, I simply want to say the mistake has been made and we will support Katherine.”

“The mistake? It was
no
mistake.”

“John—”

“I mean it, Papa, I love her. I took too long coming to the point, yes, but I’d acquired a special licence and I’d travelled down there to offer for her before I knew of the child.”

Edward stared, then set a hand on John’s shoulder. “Well then, I am glad for you, and I will tell your mother how things stand.”

John breathed out, only then realising he’d held his breath. “Would you ask her if she will discuss with Katherine what must be done? I would be grateful… Katherine will need help.”

His father nodded and then left.

John retired, and in his rooms, he went to stand at the connecting door leading into Katherine’s chamber. His fingers settled on the door handle as he listened for any sound.

There was none.

His forehead rested against the cool solid wood.

He was making a mess of things already. His marriage was barely hours old and he’d failed her again. He should have been here. He’d thought it a hundred times as he’d repeated and repeated his statement, but he hadn’t been able to get away.

How many times in his life would his duty come before her and would she be able to understand?

~

The next morning, after a good night’s sleep, John felt in higher spirits when he reached the long sunny room in which he normally ate breakfast. He felt excited, anticipating the sight of Katherine like a lovesick fool.

He’d had some business letters to read and reply to before he’d come down, so no doubt she’d nearly finished eating. His mind began to wander through ideas of what to do with the day.

He looked first at Edward, who was sitting nearest the door, and nodded. Then his gaze swept over the other occupants, searching for Katherine. She was not here. His heart dropped in his chest.

His mother rose. So did Mary, with far less decorum, as she launched herself at him and hugged him tightly. “You sneak, marrying Kate in secret. I will never forgive you. I may not invite you to my wedding in return.”

He tapped her beneath her chin as she let him go and stepped back. “You will. You’re too much of a show-off. You’ll want everyone to gloat over your brother, the Duke of Pembroke. Where’s Katherine? Has she eaten?”

“You are not the only duke I have as a relation, I have uncles too, and I have no idea where Katherine is, I haven’t seen her.”

“She has not come down?” John looked at his mother.

“No, and Kate did not join us for dinner last night either.” His mother’s pitch held a censorious tone. “Esther said Kate was not feeling well. She is still unwell this morning. Have you not seen her?”

The implication in her last words was explicit – he
should
have seen Katherine.

He’d made it obvious he’d not spent his wedding night with his wife – and not doing so was clearly very wrong in his mother’s eyes. It meant Katherine must be feeling the same, surely.

His exuberance ebbed instantly. “Mama, would you send for a doctor? I’ll go up to her.”

“John,” she said, catching his arm. “Has she any clothes with her? Esther said there was no luggage.”

He was such a fool. “No, we just came away…”

“Well, tell her please I have organised someone to call this morning to take measurements and bring patterns. She will bring some readymade garments which can quickly be adjusted to fit, too.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

“Go on, go up to her then.”

John kissed her cheek first.

There was no response to his knock on Katherine’s sitting room door.

“Katherine, it’s John!”

Silence.

He entered anyway and walked through her sitting room and dressing room. They were both empty and showed no evidence of occupation. He found her in her bedchamber, though he’d heard her presence from the dressing room. She was kneeling on the floor doubled over a chamber pot, retching.

“
Katherine
.” He was on one knee at her side in an instant and holding her loose hair.

She was wearing the dress she’d worn yesterday – well of course she was, she had nothing to change into.

He also noted the bed was hardly disturbed. She’d slept on top of the covers and probably in her clothes – waiting for him.
Will you never learn, John?

“Leave me alone,” she whispered, sitting back on her heels and holding a cloth to her lips.

The contents of the chamber pot was nothing but bile, she’d clearly not eaten anything last night or this morning.

John rose and took the pot. He left it in the dressing room then returned to her.

“Please, John, I’d rather you just left me.” She climbed up onto the bed and lay down.

She looked tired. She had lain there and not slept then.

“I don’t wish you to see this.”

“I do,” he answered, walking over to a jug to pour some water into the wash bowl beside it. “Here, wash your face, I’ll send for some ginger-infused tea and dry toast, Mama swears by that remedy, it should help settle your stomach.”

“Please, John…”

“Katherine, I got you into this mess, what kind of man would I be if I turned away from the unpleasantness of the outcome?”

“A normal one,” she stated, accepting the damp cloth he offered.

He laughed at her quip, wondering how the girl could joke even now. He took the cloth away from her again. “Lie down and rest.”

Once she’d done so he discarded the cloth and went over to the bell pull to ring for a maid.

A knock wrapped on the bedchamber door in scarce minutes. John opened it and whispered his requirement to Esther rather than letting her in to disturb Katherine. They were carried out instantly. The dressing room door clicked quietly shut as a maid took the soiled chamber pot.

John moved and leant his back against the mantle, watching Katherine on the bed. Her eyes were closed and one arm loosely covered her face. Her body was still slender; he could not yet see any rise in her stomach. He supposed the only clue was the buttons which pulled taut across her bosom where her breasts were fuller.

A few moments later and Esther was back with the tea and toast and another maid entered bearing a clean chamber pot.

Now the servants knew how things stood as well as his parents.

John asked for it all to be set down near the bed and then bid them leave. Both maids bobbed copious curtsies before disappearing.

“Does it never bother you?” Katherine asked from the bed, lowering her arm and opening her eyes.

He went to smile but stopped when it pulled the scab on his lip. “Does what bother me?”

“All the supplication; they bow and scrape at every turn. It is driving me mad already and I’ve only endured it for a day.”

He laughed quietly and moved closer. “Why do you think I hid abroad so long? I could lead a normal life there. But the answer is you get used to it and then in large you ignore it. Now sit up and eat a little.” He gathered some cushions from a chair and set them behind her back so she could recline, then passed her the uninviting toast and moved the ginger tea within her reach.

He walked about the bed and occupied the far side, slipping off his shoes and then lying down on his back beside her.

One hand rested beneath his head and he raised one knee. He remembered lying in numerous fields talking with Phillip in this position as a boy. He looked up at her and watched her nibble a small piece from her toast.

“It will go away soon if you’re lucky.”

“What?”

“The sickness, it usually improves after three months, or it always does for my mother and my aunts, although I believe sometimes it can go on. I’ve sent for a doctor.”

“Why? It’s normal, you just said so.”

“Because,” rolling to his side, he bent his elbow to prop up his head on his palm, “I wish to know you and the child are healthy. It will stop me fretting if I hear a doctor say so. Mama said you were ill last night, too.”

“I did not like to go down on my own.”

“So you were not ill?”

“Can you call too nervous ill? If so, I was ill?”