As a father hurts for his wounded son, so Evans hurt for Radcliff.
That fool woman. Why did she have to go off and leave? She deuced well loved the duke—as he did himself. It was that very affection, their mutual love for Radcliff, that had just recently forged a solid bond between the duchess and himself.
And didn’t she know a woman in her condition was not supposed to lift things like valises? She might jeopardize the future duke.
Perhaps it was too late to win her love, but it wasn’t too late to claim what was lawfully his. Radcliff would be dead before he would let Duns ford take possession of his wife. He should have called out the earl long before, but always he had wanted to keep Bonny’s reputation unblemished.
Now she had chosen to tarnish her name and the House of Radcliff. For that, he would blow off the smirking head of the Earl of Duns ford. Or die trying.
He would start at Duns ford House on Half Moon Street. Of course the earl would not be there, but a few quid properly dispersed should sufficiently loosen the servants’ tongues as to their master’s destination.
Radcliff wondered if Duns ford would be off to his country seat. He did not even know where it was. Perhaps the earl had carried Bonny aboard a ship bound for the Continent. If that were the case, Radcliff might have to employ Bow Street runners to aid in his search.
At Duns ford House, Radcliff dismounted from his stallion, giving the reins to a footman. Handing his card to another footman, Radcliff said, “Announce to your master that the Duke of Radcliff wishes to speak to him.”
“I am sorry, your grace, but Lord Duns ford is not in.”
Radcliff raised an eyebrow. “Left London, has he?”
“No, your grace.”
He’s lying.
Duns ford, naturally, would have instructed his staff not to divulge his whereabouts. “I am interested in purchasing his barouche. Could you direct me to the stables so that I might examine it?”
“His lordship’s equipage is stabled just around the corner,” the middle-aged footman said, pointing to his left.
To Radcliff’s surprise, Duns ford’s barouche was, indeed, stabled around the corner. He sought out the groom. “What mount did Lord Duns ford take today?”
“‘E’s riding ’is gray,” the lad said.
“How long ago did he leave?”
“Noon straight up.”
Now Radcliff was more baffled than ever. Clearly, Bonny had left around dawn. And if Duns ford were on a single horse, he could hardly be spiriting off a pregnant woman.
Radcliff walked off, looking up at the blackening sky.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
T
he man beside Bonny in the crowded stagecoach stank of onions and several weeks without bathing. She wasn’t so sure now she had done the right thing by not taking a cheap seat on top of the stage, but when they ran into torrents of rain along the way, she held her breath and gave thanks for a dry seat.
When she had boarded the stage at Piccadilly, Bonny had tried to cover her belly so no one would know she was pregnant. Those who held to the old ways might have refused to seat her had they known of her condition. Old wives’ tales had it that coach rides would jostle the baby out prematurely, but Emily had assured her these suspicions were totally unfounded.
“Why, I traveled from Badajoz up the Pyrenees not a month before Harriet was born,” Emily had said. “And you have seen for yourself how perfectly she turned out.”
Now confident that she would not jeopardize her baby, Bonny took a cue from the shapeless flower sellers at Covent Garden and wore most of the clothes she possessed on her back. This disguised her maternity quite well. She planned to do embroidery during the trip to keep something over her lap to hide the roundness that was her child, but gazing at the tiny pattern made her feel sick. It would not do to be sick on her fellow passengers, she decided.
It tore at her heart to remember the last time she had left London. The night she sat beside Richard for the first time. Even now her breathing quickened when she remembered him offering his shoulder for her sleepy head. Tears sprang to her eyes. She ached with a deep emptiness, an overwhelming urge to feel him next to her right now. She would trade all her tomorrows for that one yesterday.
She remembered those raw stirrings that Richard had aroused from the first time she saw him. What could she have done to earn his love?
Many times throughout the long days of the journey, she fought the lulling caused by the monotony of the road. She tried to force herself to stay awake but would find her head drooping as she dozed.
Looking at the odious men on either side of her, Bonny thought how repulsed she would be if either of them offered her his shoulder to sleep upon. But it was as if they sensed something highborn in her. And they knew their place.
Had Richard been attracted to her that first night? Is that why he had offered his shoulder? She remembered when she apologized for robbing him of sleep. With warmth spreading over her like a woolen blanket, she recalled his words that hazy dawn.
I don’t know when I’ve ever been more comfortable,
he had said.
It was those little reflections that would sustain her in the years to come in Milford.
While Emily had spurned him, refusing to see him, Duns ford took consolation in the fact her mother had been especially fond of him. Of course, he could see through her like fine crystal. The woman clearly wanted an earl to court her daughter.
So the scheming Lady Landis would become his ally.
By now Duns ford had become familiar with the routines of everyone at Wickham House. Lord Landis left at precisely one every afternoon on his gelding. Lady Landis entertained callers at noon and frequently left Wickham House at two. Emily, since he had began stalking her, had left the house less and less.
On this day, Duns ford timed his arrival at Wickham House to coincide with Lady Landis’s leaving. As she descended the steps, a liveried footman holding a parasol over her to repel the sprinkling rain, Duns ford stood at the bottom step and extended his greetings.
“Why, Lord Duns ford,” a beaming Lady Landis said. “Such a pleasure to see you. Such a stranger you’ve been lately.”
He gave her a sweeping bow. “Not by choice, I assure you, my lady. In fact, I wish to appeal to you today. Can you contrive to help me have a private audience with your daughter?” He wasn’t sure if Lady Landis’s eyes squinted from the sun or from undiluted pleasure.
“Pray, my lord, come ride with me. I am sure we can devise a plan to get you two together.”
Like his heart, the day had been so wretchedly black Radcliff could scarcely tell when night began to fall. He turned his mount off Piccadilly onto Berkeley. He would have to get out of these wet clothes, dress for the evening and begin again his search for Duns ford. Thus far, his queries had proved futile. The earl had not been to Jackson’s, Radchff had learned after a casual inquiry there. A trip to Tattersall’s also yielded no information on the whereabouts of Lord Duns ford. Radcliff had even gone to Brook’s where being a duke afforded him admittance, although Radcliff was not a member of Duns ford’s club. But Radcliff’s off hand inquiries there about Duns ford had also proven fruitless.
Handing his bay to a hostler, the duke scurried up the steps to Radcliff House, shed his drenched coat and handed it to Mandley. It felt good to be within a warm house. He shivered through every limb. But he must not get too comfortable. He could not stop until he found Duns ford. Even if it took all night.
On the way to his chamber, Radcliff passed Bonny’s door and his heart caught. He paused, then knocked on the wistful hope that she had returned. Only black silence answered. He opened the door and stepped into her room. It was in total darkness. Not even a fire in the hearth. How quickly word of the duchess’s departure had reached the servants, he thought grimly, stalking through her chamber to the dressing room.
He did not know if it were his imagination or reality that scented the room with her floral fragrance. He thought of lying with her in this very room, surrounded by the dark stillness he now felt. But then he had had the comforting beat of her heart. And now there was nothing.
With that bitter reminder blackening his mood, he opened the door to his dressing room, which was lit by a brace of candles. And there he faced Evans.
“Your grace!” Evans exclaimed. “You will surely take a lung infection. Come, let me help you into dry clothes.”
“I regret to say it would be no great loss were I to take a lung infection and depart this world, Evans.”
“Do not say such things, your grace,” Evans said, removing Radcliff’s shirt. “A great many people would grieve exceedingly if anything should happen to your grace.”
A pity that his Barbara was not one of those people. Radcliff sat on a sturdy chair and allowed Evans to take off his boots. Good boots they must be, he reflected. His stockings were the only dry article on his body.
“Your grace must have spent a great deal of time outdoors today to have got so wet.”
“Yes, I’ve been searching for someone all day.”
“And have your efforts met with good fortune?”
“No, but I shall renew my quest tonight.”
“You will have the good judgment to take the barouche tonight, will you not, your grace?”
“How diplomatically you scold, Evans, but you do have a capital idea. I’m damned tired of being wet.” Sliding into dry breeches, Radcliff met Evans’s gaze squarely. “Tell me, why is there no fire nor candles in the duchess’s room?”
“But...we were given to understand the duchess has left.”
“From whom did you receive this information?”
“All of the servants understood from Marie that the duchess—”
“Say no more! You will instruct
my
household to keep the duchess’s room in perfect order for her return.”
“Her return?”
“My wife will be coming back shortly,” Radcliff said as he grabbed a coat and stalked from the dressing room.
“A pity it is raining tonight,” Lady Landis said as she entered their box at the Drury Lane Theatre. “I had so wanted to go to Vauxhall Gardens, but I am given to understand that tonight’s play is very entertaining.”
Lord and Lady Landis sat in the front row, then Lady Landis turned around and gazed affectionately at her two offspring. “By the way, dear,” she said to Emily, “leave a seat between yourself and your brother. A friend of Alfred’s will be joining us.”
Emily did as her mother instructed, then began to read the program. Despite being in London the past seven months, she had been very little in society. Pleas of ill health had spared her from many of her mother’s efforts to marry her off to a wealthy husband. But no protests had spared her from tonight’s activities. No doubt, she thought bitterly, Alfred’s “friend” would be yet another prospective husband.
When the curtain rustled open behind her, she did not even turn her head. The young gentleman moved to the seat beside her, and Emily turned to give him a stiff greeting. And she froze. It was Lord Duns ford. How she wished for a magic potion to make her disappear. She felt her face coloring and her chest rumbling from a torrent of emotions, not the least of which was pure embarrassment. She knew she should give him a greeting, but she could not find her voice. She faced him, her eyes downcast.
He gave friendly greetings to Lord and Lady Landis and to Alfred, then he turned his full attention on Emily. Bowing, he reached for her hand, and she gave it to him. “Lady Emily,” he said, kissing her hand. “How very good it is to see you again.” He sat next to her and inquired, “I trust your good health has returned?”
“Yes, my lord,” she said shakily.
The curtain opened, and the comedy commenced. Emily could not say if it were entertaining or not. She could think of nothing save the handsome man who sat beside her, recalling the things Bonny had told her that morning. It was very hard indeed to believe that he knew of her shame and still sought her out. Could it be that what Bonny said was true? Could the earl truly be in love with her, despite her past? Could he really wish to marry her?
As the first act played on, her discomfort ebbed. Somehow, Lord Duns ford’s closeness was reassuring. He did not care about her past. He had met Harriet. Bonny said he was quite attached to Harriet, and a liquid comfort spread through her at the thought. And he was here. Beside her. Could she dare hope he would be there always for her?
At intermission, Lady Landis sprang to her feet and announced, “David and I simply must speak to Lady Smitherton, my dear.”
As she and Lord Landis left the box, Alfred said, “Must have a smoke.” He did not ask Lord Duns ford to join him.
When there were just the two of them left in the dimly lit box, Duns ford turned to Emily. “You may have guessed that your family knows I particularly wished to speak to you alone.”
Her heart hammering rapidly, Emily met Duns ford’s serious gaze. “Yes, my lord.”
He took her gloved hand and placed it within both of his. “Surely you know I wish to make you my wife.”
She would have to speak of that which she had never thought to utter. It was as if his handclasp passed his strength to her, giving her the courage to speak her fears. “Considering what you know about me, my lord?”
He ran a loving hand across her cheek. “Especially knowing you. I love everything about you.”
She saw the love in his eyes and wanted more than anything on earth to return that love tenfold. “But would I not cause you embarrassment?”
“You could never give me anything but happiness, Emily. But I love you too deeply to allow society to think ill of you. What happened on the Peninsula should remain a secret only you and I and Bonny share. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t be parents to Harriet and make a home for the three of us.”
“Oh, Henry! You are the kindest man in the world.”
“I don’t want to be the kindest man in the world. I want you to make me the happiest. Say you will marry me.”
A slow smile crossed her face. “I will marry you.”
He scooped her into his arms and kissed her. The kiss captured all the tenderness in her being, and when it was through, he drew away and gave her a glowing look of love. “I had hoped for your love, and now you have answered me.”
She chuckled contentedly, kissed his cheek and said, “I love you very much, my lord.”
What a bloody waste this night had been, Radcliff thought as he trudged up the dimly lit staircase of Radcliff House. He had been to every blasted gaming establishment in the city but had not found Duns ford. The closest he had come was at midnight, when Thomas Squires told him he had seen Duns ford driving his curricle near Bow Street—alone—at around eight that evening. That, at least, had been good news. Duns ford was not with Bonny.
At Madam Chassay’s, Radcliff had not even inquired after Duns ford because Stanley was there. Radcliff would be damned before he would allow Stanley to know he sought the earl who had been keeping company with his wife. He gave his cousin the cut and left.
Instead of going to his library and sulking with brandy as he normally did, Radcliff went to Bonny’s chamber. He knew she wouldn’t be there, but he longed for her so badly he was drawn to her room.
Now it was warm from a fire in the hearth. A candle glowed beside her bed. Her torcheres were lit, too. He sat in the slipper chair beside the fireplace and heard a soft knock from the dressing room.
“Your grace?” Evans questioned.