To Marry a Duke (12 page)

Edward handed her a half filled plate. ‘Are you certain
that’s enough? There’s food here to feed an army.’

‘Then you had better consume three plates yourself, Edward,
or their cook might be offended.’

It did not take long for Allegra to eat her fill. She wiped
her lips and drank a little from a glass of freshly made lemonade. Edward
pushed back his chair and returned to the table to pile his plate for a second
time.

‘There are dainties here, and pineapple slices, shall I
fetch you some?’

‘No, thank you, I have had sufficient. But please carry on -
I love to see a man with a healthy appetite.’
 
Chuckling he returned to the table. ‘Tell me, Mr Edward, what are you planning
to do with the rest of your life? You must be eighteen now, time enough to have
made a decision.’

‘Did you not hear? I have my colours. Theo, the Earl of
Wister, Marianne’s husband, purchased them for me, for my name-day gift.’

‘A soldier?
How exciting! Which
regiment do you join?’

‘I am to go with Major Denning, Emily’s betrothed. I begin
my training in Colchester on Monday.’ The door opened and their hosts, plus
Emily, came in. Edward scrambled to his feet. ‘We have started. I hope you
don’t mind?’

‘Not at all, as long as there’s plenty left for us,’
Charles
replied. He surveyed the
plates
withsatisfaction
. ‘I’ve not eaten today and I’m
famished.’

The two girls did not wait to be served by either gentleman
but piled their own plates, chattering non-stop, completely ignoring Allegra,
and choosing to sit at the second table on the far side of the room.

Charles, smiling fondly at his wife of scarcely two months,
came to sit with Allegra and Edward. ‘I apologize for both my wife and sister,
Lady Allegra. They are desperate to spend as much time as possible together.
When Emily marries next month she’s travelling with the Major. The girls have
never been separated since they were in leading strings. It will be hard for
Arabella to lose her closest friend.’ His eyes were weary and he appeared far
older than his age of three and twenty.

Allegra hated to see him so low. Impulsively she patted the
clenched fist resting next to his plate. ‘I am to be married in August and
shall continue to live at the Priory. I would be delighted to become a closer
friend to Lady Arabella if she wishes it.’

‘Thank you, Lady Allegra. It’s a kind thought, but I rather
think Arabella and would be happier spending time with Miss Demelza. They are
closer in age and temperament.’ He grinned at her. ‘Don’t poker up, you know
what I mean. I love my Bella, I would gladly die for her, but I’m not blind to
her faults. I promise you, she would drive you to distraction in a very short
space of time.’

Allegra relaxed again and returned his smile, but inside she
was hurt. Was she so austere, so judgemental, Charles did not consider her as a
suitable companion for his young wife?

‘Richard and Demelza are supposed
to marry in August also but I expect, in the circumstances, the ceremony might
well be postponed. He will not wish to stand up at the altar until he is fully
recovered.’

Edward dropped his cutlery loudly on his empty plate. ‘That
was an excellent repast. If you want to know what I think, it’s that Miss
Tremayne is far too young to be getting married. She’s scarcely out of the
schoolroom. It would be better for her to have a season before settling down to
matrimony.’

‘You are quite right. But their affections are engaged and
they are determined to wed at the same time Tremayne and I exchange our vows.’

Edward stood up. ‘That’s the same as Em. There was no
persuading her to wait either.’
He half-bowed.
‘Please
excuse me, I’ve promised to meet up with some cronies. They’ll be waiting for
me at the Plough.’ Without bidding the young ladies goodbye, he left the room,
closing the door behind him.

Charles frowned. ‘I apologize for my brother. He’s not
usually so uncivil.’

Allegra shrugged. ‘It is no matter. This has been a morning
fraught with difficulties. Which reminds me Mr Grierson, as we are being
outspoken, I wish to know why Richard was obliged to climb that tree? Why was a
gardener’s boy not sent instead?’

‘There was no one else. When I decided to give all the staff
the day off I had no idea that stupid animal was going to become stuck in a
tree. By the time I required someone they’d all departed. As far as I was
concerned it could have stayed up there. But Bella was weeping and crying and
would not come in to dress. So when Witherton and Miss Demelza arrived and he
offered to fetch it down, I could see no reason to refuse.’

The haunted expression had returned and Allegra wished she
had not asked. ‘Of course that is how it was. I should not have mentioned it.
Richard has climbed so many trees without mishap, why should anyone have
expected it to be
have
been different today?’

She stood up.
‘Sir, could you find someone
to fetch Miss Tremayne and Miss Murrell down?
Also, will you ask the
stables to send round our carriage? I have no wish to attend the fair today and
shall return to the Priory as soon as I have seen how Richard is.’

He bowed. ‘Bella, my dear, Lady Allegra is leaving and you
have not exchanged more than a few words with her.’

His wife jumped up and curtsied.
‘I beg your pardon, Lady Allegra, but Emily is to leave here soon and we still
have so much to talk about.’

This was hardly an appropriate
explanation and poor Charles knew it. He frowned at his wife and her sunny
smile slipped. Allegra spoke before the young couple had words.

‘My dear, Lady Arabella, it is of
no matter. I must leave now. Thank you so much for your hospitality.’ Demelza
and Miss Murrell arrived in the entrance hall as the barouche drew up outside.

The carriage rattled homewards,
is occupants quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Allegra kept reliving the
conversation with Jago which condemned her to a loveless marriage. It would
seem she had found her love for him but lost, irretrievably, any hope of him
reciprocating her feelings.

Why her chance remark should have so mortally offended him
she was at a loss to understand. She had said far worse before and he had
shrugged it off. Why, this time, had he reacted so violently? She was glad she
understood his
feelings ;
far better than discover it
too late.

She dipped her head, hiding her wet eyes under the brim of
her bonnet. She had been told often enough, by her nanny, her governess and her
mother, that a lady in her position must never show any emotion. That at all
times one must remain composed and in control.

For some reason, today she could not keep her shell intact.
If this was what being in love meant, she wanted none of it. She hated feeling
overwrought and emotional. She clenched her hands and came to a decision. She
would eradicate her love for Jago Tremayne from her heart. He did not deserve
it so she would destroy it, starting that very second.

However her eyes continued to fill and when Miss Murrell
pressed
a large
cotton square into her hand she took
it gratefully.

Chapter
Twelve

Demelza, sitting diagonally to
Allegra, was unaware her future mama was in distress and blithely addressed
her. Richard’s accident had not, it seemed, had a similar effect on her composure.

‘Lady Allegra, why did Richard not let us in to see him?’

Quickly Miss Murrell answered. ‘My dear, he would not wish
to upset you. When he returns tomorrow he will be glad of your company. He has
never been one to enjoy being an invalid.’

This appeared to satisfy Demelza and the barouche lapsed
once more into quiet. Allegra sensed that they were travelling on Witherton
land and her spirits revived a little. Surreptitiously she dried her face and
pushed the handkerchief into her reticule.

‘Miss Murrell, the staff will not know about the accident.
Could I ask you to inform them?’

‘I’ll do so gladly, my dear. Lord Witherton and Mr Tremayne
will require some necessities. Do you wish me to organize their valets to
convey them to Great Bentley Hall?’

‘Yes, if you would.’ Allegra’s voice was listless and even
Demelza noticed something was amiss.

‘Lady Allegra, are you unwell? Do you have the headache?’

Again Miss Murrell stepped in. ‘She does, Miss Demelza, so
it is best we do not disturb her with idle chatter.’

‘I have megrims sometimes. I have
to stay in bed and—’

‘Yes, yes, my dear, but hush now.
We’re almost home. You run along to your rooms, I have duties to perform but
will be with you shortly.’

On hearing that hated word Allegra’s tears flowed anew. Her
companion spoke quietly to her. ‘I suggest you remain here, my dear, until
you’re feeling better. I’ll have Abbot come down to attend you.’

Allegra nodded, unable to speak. She felt the carriage rock
to a standstill, heard the other occupants descend, but her head remained
bowed. How long she sat, alone, she had no idea. She was aware of a movement
beside her.

‘My lady, come along. Let me help you to your bedchamber.’

Gratefully Allegra accepted Abbot’s help and completed the
manoeuvre to the ground. With her dresser’s arm around her waist she stumbled
inside. The distance from the blue corridor, up the stairs and along the blue
gallery, had never felt so far. It took a supreme effort of will to keep
upright. Eventually she felt the softness of carpet beneath her boots and knew
she was almost there.

‘In you come, my lady. Jenny and I will help you disrobe.
You sit still; we can manage without any assistance from you.’

They raised her arms, lifted and lowered her, until the cool
slither of her nightgown settled around her naked form.

‘There now, lay back and sleep, my lady. You will feel much
better in the morning.’

Abbot’s voice was the last thing she remembered before
slipping into the first, dreamless, and refreshing sleep she had experienced
since her father’s suicide.

The sound of her bed hangings being pulled back and the
appetising smell of hot chocolate dragged her from her slumber the next
morning. For a moment she remained, eyes closed revelling in the almost
forgotten sensation of waking rested. She could hear birds singing and the
distant sound of voices coming through the open windows.

She sat up ready to face the day. ‘Good morning, Abbot. Are
there rolls and strawberry preserve on my tray? I find I am hungry this
morning.’

‘There are not, my lady, but Jenny can go directly to fetch some
for you.’ The tray was placed on a bedside table. ‘Shall I pour your
chocolate?’

Steaming cup cradled in her hands Allegra settled back in
her cocoon of well plumped pillows. She sniffed the strong dark drink with
appreciation. Jenny appeared with a plate wrapped in a clean damask cloth. The
appetising aroma of freshly baked bread wafted around the room. ‘Put them on
the tray, Jenny. I shall help myself presently.’

She sipped a little of her drink before returning the cup to
the tray. The rolls had been split and strawberry jam melted from the centres.
Eagerly she selected one and raised it to her mouth. The conserve oozed red and
thick from the warm roll and, as she watched, the red became blood dripping
from lacerated flesh.

With a scream she flung it from her and her stomach
constricted, ejecting the hot chocolate she had consumed so happily minutes
before. In the aftermath of the nausea the full horror of the day’s events
flooded back. She recalled Richard’s injury, Jago’s brutal words and her decision
to stop loving him.

It took the combined efforts of Abbot and Miss Murrell to
calm her sufficiently to administer a large dose of laudanum. When drugged
oblivion began to sweep her away into the darkness she went willingly, glad to
escape her misery.

*

Doctor Jones pronounced himself satisfied with Richard’s
progress. ‘My lord, you have no fever. It will be in order for you to return to
St Osyth tomorrow morning, but you must rest for another three days, to allow
the wounds to heal.’

‘That will be no hardship. I’ve no intention of appearing in
public until I look a little more presentable.’

‘Excellent, my lord.
Light meals
only, and no alcohol.’ This last remark he addressed to the manservant standing
attentively beside the bed.

‘I understand, sir. Word will be sent ahead to Cook.’

The doctor bowed and left the patient in the efficient hands
of his valet. Jago was in the sitting-room, his face serious. ‘How is he? When
can he be moved?’

‘He’s making good progress and can return home tomorrow
morning, when it’s not so warm. I shall call in to visit him the next day, but
do not hesitate to send for me if you feel any anxiety before that.’

Jago, immaculate in dark green topcoat, calfskin breeches
and his usual intricately tied neck-cloth, showed no visible signs of strain.
He strode into the sick room. ‘Well, Witherton, you can return home tomorrow
morning. Your face isn’t looking so bad this evening - in a few days you’ll be
able to properly assess the damage.’

‘I’m in no hurry to view myself in a glass, I can assure
you, sir. But until I do, I’ve no wish for Demelza or Allegra to visit me. I
hope they understand this.’

‘They do. In fact they returned
to the Priory immediately after your accident in order to give you the privacy
you requested.’

The tap on the door interrupted their conversation. James,
Richard’s valet, answered the summons. ‘There’s a messenger from The Priory,
sir. It seems it’s urgent.’

Jago’s eyes narrowed but otherwise he remained unmoved.
‘I’ll be there directly. Have him wait in the hall for me.’

Richard waved him away. ‘Go, I’m well served here. Charles
can deal with anything my man cannot manage.’

‘If you’re sure, lad, I’ll go and attend to this latest
drama.’ He smiled. ‘Have no doubt it’s of no more importance than that Demelza
wishes to quiz me on your condition.’

Once outside the bed chamber his demeanour changed and he
covered the distance to the hall in seconds. Thomas stood, hat in hand,
awaiting his arrival. ‘Well, Thomas, what is it?’

‘It’s Lady Allegra, sir. She’s taken poorly. Miss Murrell
wishes you to return immediately.’

The words had hardly left the coachman’s mouth before Jago
was out of the front door, taking the steps in one leap and speeding towards
the stables. ‘Fetch my saddle. I’ll get Apollo,’ he shouted to Thomas, who
pounded along at his shoulder.

Both men were mounted and away in less than five minutes
from the delivery of the message. They galloped across country, jumping the
walls and hedges, their horses devouring the miles. When they arrived at the
Priory, Jago threw the reins to Thomas, vaulted from his saddle and raced
inside. His stomach roiled and his face was pale.

He’d arrived, his appearance dishevelled, his boots dusty,
in little over an hour since the summons had been sent. His knock brought Miss Murrell
to the door.

‘Oh, Mr Tremayne, I’m so glad you’re here. Lady Allegra was
unwell this morning and I was obliged to give her a dose of laudanum to settle
her. But she hasn’t come round. She’s still asleep. Nothing we can do will
rouse her.’

‘How much did she swallow, for God’s sake?’

‘A teaspoon - no more – that’s why I’m so concerned. It
cannot be the poppy juice that keeps her comatose.’

Jago wanted to rush into her bedchamber but restrained his
impulse. He needed to know more. ‘You said she was unwell earlier today, in
what way?’

Miss Murrell described what had happened and he frowned.
‘Did Lady Allegra bang her head on anything? Could she have had a fall during
the night?’

‘No, sir.
She slept well. In fact
Abbot said this was the best night’s sleep she has had for years.’

‘Why have you not sent for Dr Jones? Why did you send for me
instead?’

Miss Murrell flushed and hesitated. ‘Her ladyship was most
distressed in the carriage on her return yesterday. I have known her all her
life and have never seen her weep before, not even when she was whipped for
disobedience by her mother.’

‘God in his heaven!
What have I
done? This is my fault.’ Ignoring her protests he pushed his way into Allegra’s
room. The chamber was dark, the shutters closed, but the bed curtains remained
open.

Allegra lay like an effigy on her bed. With a gasp of
despair he flung himself across the room, snatching her up in his arms. He
rocked her gently, as he crooned her name. Was he too late, had his anger
caused her death?

*

Her dark world was moving; Allegra felt as if she was afloat
on a choppy sea. Someone dear to her was calling her name, begging her to
return from her journey, to open her eyes. It was Jago.

He was here, holding her close to
his heart, whispering sweet nonsense into her ears. When her eyes flickered
open she saw him transformed. The intimidating stranger was gone and in his
place was a man, his cheeks unashamedly wet, gazing down at her with love.

‘My
darling, thank God, thank
God.
For a moment I thought I’d lost you. That somehow you had taken an overdose of
laudanum.’

‘Jago?
Is that you? What are you
doing here?’

He had been forced to place his ear close to her mouth to
hear her words. ‘I came because you’re ill, my sweet. Your ladies sent for me.’
He punctuated his words with kisses, dropped, feather-light across her face
until his lips found hers and stilled. Her mouth opened and she drew in his
taste, his smell, his love. He made no attempt to deepen the kiss, moving his
mouth softly across hers, murmuring endearments and apologies until her head
was spinning.

With a feeble hand she pushed him away. ‘Enough, Jago, you
are overwhelming me.’ Instantly contrite he prepared to vacate his position on
the bed. ‘No, stay here, I am still a trifle heavy-headed. Just hold me, my
love, let me feel your arms around me, let me know I am safe.’

Ignoring the scandalized expressions of both Miss Murrell
and Abbot, he leant forward and heaved off first one boot and then the other.
His jacket followed, then his stock. He grinned at Allegra and her lips curved
in an affectionate smile.

Then he was back beside her, his dark head resting on her
pillow and his long legs stretched out on the cover. ‘Sit forward, sweetheart,’
he instructed. She did so willingly. ‘There, lean
back,
rest your head on my shoulder and sleep. I have you safe in my arms.’

She settled back with
a deep
sigh
contentment. Over the past thirty-six hours she had been somersaulted from
happiness to despair and back again. She was emotionally exhausted. When

she
was
more rested she would ask Jago to explain what had happened, but for the moment
all she needed was to have him here, holding her close and to know he loved
her. The rest could wait.

*

Jago gestured to the shocked watchers that they should leave
and with bad grace they retired, leaving him alone on the huge tester bed with
Allegra cradled his arms. He smiled as the door was left ajar behind them. She
was his now. Spending the night together, however innocently, meant that she
would be obliged to marry him or her good name would be destroyed, her place in
society gone for ever.

Her breathing become soft and slow and he knew she was
asleep. He relaxed, prepared to stay awake all night guarding his prize. But
his triumph began to sour. Could he be content for her to marry him, never
knowing if she did so from choice of because she was obliged to? Gently he
extracted his arm and slid across the bed. His
stockinged
feet made no sound on the boards. He collected his scattered belongings and
crept out.

‘Thank the Lord for that,’ Abbot exclaimed under her breath.
‘Is Lady Allegra asleep, sir?’

He
smiled,
glad his beloved had
such devoted staff. ‘She is, Abbot. I’ll sleep in here, if you have no
objection, and you can sleep in the bed chamber with her ladyship.’

‘That I will, Mr Tremayne. I promise if she stirs I will
call you instantly.’

‘Good. Ring for a tray to be sent up. I’ve not eaten since
this morning and am sharp set.’

*

When Allegra woke the birds’ early-morning chorus filled the
room with magic. It matched her mood. She was not perturbed by Jago’s absence
as she had
wokenin
the night to seek and Abbot had
explained. How thoughtful; how could she ever have imagined him to be less than
a true gentleman?

She swung her legs over the edge, making sure she did not
disturb Abbot, quietly snoring on a cot at the foot of the bed. Her silk
wrapper was draped, as usual, over a chair back and she slipped it on. She
crept across the chamber and pushed open the door, catching her breath in
delight when she saw her beloved sprawled, arms and legs akimbo, more off than
on the chintz covered
chaise longue
he
had selected for his bed.