A Hint of Scandal (10 page)

“I will go and see if he is awake. But you must not stay long, Triss,” Bella told her cousin firmly.

“I promise,” Triss called merrily as Bella left the room.

Poking her head through the partially open bedroom door, Bella found that the duke was awake and sitting up in bed.

Hearing a slight noise, the duke looked up and smiled when he saw Bella.

“Come in, Miss Tichley.”

“I do not wish to disturb you, your grace.” She hesitated.

“You can’t,” he replied, putting aside the book.

She stepped farther into the room. “Did you have a nice rest?”

“Yes, but I grow weary of lying about,” he replied. “You must be patient, your grace. It has been only a few days. It takes time to heal.” The duke gave her an amused, yet searching look.

“Are you always patient, Miss Tichley?” he questioned.

“I try to be.”

“I have never liked having to wait for something I want.”

Something in his tone and the look in his eyes made the breath catch in Bella’s throat. He was so confusing, she thought, standing before him uncertainly. One moment he was almost formal in his politeness, and the next he easily made her blush.

She decided to change the subject as quickly as she could.

“Your grace, do you feel well enough to have some company for a few minutes?”

The duke’s eyes gleamed, and she had the feeling that he found her attempt to divert him amusing.

Pushing himself further up on the pillows, he said, “Of course, who is it?”

“My cousin, Lady Beatrice Tichley, wishes to be made known to you,” she informed him.

“By all means. I would be delighted.”

Biting her lip, Bella hesitated before going to get Triss.

“What is it?” Westlake asked, seeing her pause.

“I think I should warn your grace that my cousin can be disarmingly outspoken on occasion,” she explained.

“Then I would be even more delighted to make her acquaintance.” The duke grinned.

Bella met his smile with her own before leaving the room. “Do not say I did not warn you,” she tossed over her shoulder, and heard his deep laugh in response.

“He will meet you,” Bella said to Triss upon returning to the front room. Jumping up from her chair, Triss looked nervously at Bella.

“Oh, dear! I rather expected you to say no. I hope I don’t make a cake of myself by giggling,” she said with chagrin.

“You wanted to meet him; now come.” Bella laughed lightly at her flighty cousin and led her up to her bedroom.

As the two ladies entered the room, the duke looked at Lady Beatrice with interest. He saw some family resemblance between the two young women, mostly in the shape of their eyes and the height of their cheekbones.

That was where the resemblance ended, he noted. Lady Beatrice was several inches shorter than Bella and had golden blond hair instead of dark. Her features were delicate and elegant, but he definitely detected an impish light in her vivid blue eyes.

Lady Beatrice suddenly sank into a full court curtsy beside the bed.

Taken aback, the duke looked over the lady’s collapsed figure to Bella. After rolling her eyes heavenward, Bella stepped forward.

“Your grace, may I present Lady Beatrice Tichley?”

“I am pleased to meet you, Lady Beatrice,” the duke said in mock formality. “Won’t you both please be seated?”

Wobbling a little on her way back up, Triss gave the duke her most dazzling smile. Triss proceeded to seat herself in the rocking chair nearest the duke, while Bella pulled out the chair that belonged to the little desk.

“Your grace, we are so glad that you are so much improved. You had us all quite worried.”

“Did I?” He looked at the petite blonde with undisguised amusement. “But I have had such a good nurse that it is no wonder I am improving so quickly.”

“Oh, indeed, our dear Arabella is one of the most capable young ladies of my acquaintance,” Triss replied.

“But she does expect me to take too many naps.” The duke looked past Triss to give Bella a mischievous grin.

“I own that my cousin can be a bit bossy at times.” Triss leaned forward and said this in a conspiratorial whisper.

“So it’s not just a penchant she directs toward me, then?”

“Oh, no! Bella has always been that way. She is a most curious creature. The rest of the Tichleys have always been an easygoing lot—but Bella likes to manage everyone. She must have a plan for everything, while the rest of the family enjoys spontaneity. In the village she is known as ‘the correct Miss Tichley,’” she explained to the avidly listening duke.

“All the Tichleys can’t be loons, Triss,” Bella said sweetly to her cousin, suppressing a laugh at the duke’s expression.

“Oh, fiddle-faddle, Bella,” Triss said with a touch of petulance, for she so wanted to appear sophisticated in front of the duke.

“I shall be making my curtsy this spring, your grace.” Triss turned back to the duke. “I am sure you will be able to direct me to the most fashionable modiste in London?”

Bella gave an inward groan at Triss’s obvious attempt to receive some sort of invitation from the duke.

“I shall give you the direction of my sister, Lady Edgeton. She is all the kick and thinks of little else but clothes and bonnets and such,” the duke offered generously.

“How kind!” Triss clapped her hands together in her excitement.

“And what of you, Miss Tichley?” The duke directed his gaze to Bella. “Will you be going to town for the Season?”

“Bella loathes the idea of a Season,” Triss piped in before Bella had a chance to respond to the duke’s query. “She has
plans
here in Mabry Green.” Triss giggled at her own play on words.

“Do you not wish to enjoy the delights of London, Miss Tichley?” The duke pursued his line of questioning because he had never met a young lady who did not wish to make her come-out.

“I own that the idea of the theater and museums is sometimes tempting, your grace, but other than that, London holds little appeal for me,” she explained.

The duke held his gaze on the serene beauty of Bella’s face, thinking again that she was an extremely unusual young woman.

“Your grace, you must endeavor to feel better very
quickly,” Triss said, calling his attention back to her, “for my mother wishes to invite you to dine with us at Penninghurst Park.”

“I shall be delighted anytime,” the duke replied.

“Capital! I shall inform my mother,” Triss said.

“Not until Dr. Pearce gives his consent,” cautioned Bella.

“See what I mean?” Triss beamed at the duke, quite pleased with herself. “The correct Miss Tichley.”

Again the duke looked past Lady Beatrice to Bella’s composed expression and wondered how accurate the title really was.

A
day later, Bella took pity on her pale patient and offered to help him out to a low chair in the garden.

“There is not much to look at,” she apologized. “Spring has not yet arrived, but the day is not too chilly and we will wrap you in blankets.”

She had said this to him as if she were offering a treat to a child.

The duke said nothing for a moment. He looked up at her as she stood in the doorway. She was quite lovely, he thought. With her dark hair and stormy blue eyes, she had a sultry, haunting beauty that was most appealing. He was almost tempted to start a flirtation with her.

Two things stopped him. For one, despite her beauty and obvious intelligence, it was quite apparent that she was a simple country lass and would probably mistake his attentions. The second reason was that she would probably laugh at him outright.

Besides, it was dashed difficult to flirt when he could barely stand by himself, he thought with growing impatience at his own weakness.

“Thank you. It would be pleasant to be out-of-doors for a while.”

The gentle smile on Bella’s face stilled at the formality of his tone. Frowning slightly, she moved across the room to help him as he struggled to his feet.

“Take your time. Remember what the doctor said. You
mustn’t overexert yourself,” she cautioned as she stood close enough so that he could lean on her with his right arm.

Very slowly they made their way out of the bedchamber. The duke did his best not to lean too heavily on Bella. It was humiliating enough for a man renowned for his physical prowess to have to depend on a slip of a girl to help him out of a chair, much less to walk across a room.

The duke was determined, despite his fatigue, to be as active as he could. He needed to get his strength back, he thought with grim resolution.

Bella said nothing as they slowly made their way.

Again Bella was surprised by the duke’s height. She had grown used to his being prone. It was a bit startling to find that he was nearly a foot taller than she was.

By the time they reached the low wooden chair in the winter-barren garden, the duke was leaning heavily on Bella, despite his resolve. She could perceive that his breathing had grown labored during their walk.

As gently as she could, Bella helped steady him as he lowered himself into the chair. Her concern for him grew when she noticed how pale he had become.

“I won’t be a moment, your grace. Enjoy the sunlight while I fetch some blankets for you.”

Not trusting his voice to sound firm at that moment, the duke said nothing and only nodded as Bella turned swiftly and reentered the house. Again he cursed his weakness and tried to ignore the piercing throb in his shoulder and the light-headedness that seemed to increase every time he moved.

In spite of his discomfort, Westlake was glad to be out-of-doors. Shifting his weight in the chair, he looked around the garden with its dormant flower beds and leafless trees. He thought the gardens were well designed, and that the manor was decorated in refined taste, but was rather small. He estimated that the entire manor, kitchen and all, would fit into the great hall at Autley, with room to spare. No wonder he was beginning to feel claustrophobic, he thought.

But in spite of the close quarters, the Tichley family was
obviously happy, the duke concluded. Bella and Tommy laughed a lot and teased each other. Mr. Tichley played chess with both Bella and Tommy, and was obviously proud of his children. The duke very much admired the closeness they all displayed.

Bella interrupted these musings when she appeared next to him, arms laden with blankets.

“Here we are. You shall be more comfortable momentarily,” Bella said brightly as she approached him.

As she knelt to tuck the blankets around his shoulders and legs, she thought again how romantic he looked, like a wounded lion.

“There. You can now enjoy the afternoon while I prepare our tea.” She rose from her kneeling position and smiled at him.

The duke nodded and watched her return to the house. A moment later, he espied Tommy at the far end of the garden, near what he assumed was a chicken coop.

“Greetings, young Thomas. How fare you today?” he called to the boy.

Tommy smiled and approached the duke shyly. “I am well, thank you. I hope you are feeling better, your grace.”

The duke looked at the solemn youngster for a moment, thinking how much he looked like his sister.

“Much better. How is Zeus? Your uncle tells me that you have taken on the responsibility of tending him. I warn you, he can be difficult.”

“Oh, no, sir! He is a bit particular, but as long as he has had a good gallop in the morning, he is no trouble.”

“Gallop? Do you mean to say that beast lets you ride him?” the duke questioned in a tone of mild surprise.

Tommy hesitated and tugged on his brown woolen coat nervously. Suddenly he worried that maybe he should not have taken the liberty of exercising the duke’s horse.

“I apologize, your grace. I should have asked permission first,” Tommy said, biting his lip.

“That would have been difficult, as I have been indisposed for a few days,” the duke said with a deep chuckle. “I appreciate your care of Zeus. I am just surprised, and impressed, that he behaves with you. My best groom has a
hard time handling a high-spirited blood like Zeus. Treat him as yours,” he finished, leaning his head back on the wooden chair and pulling the blanket closer around him.

A relieved smile spread across Tommy’s face. “Thank you very much, your grace.”

Behind Tommy, in the distance, coming across a low hill, the duke noticed a horse and rider approaching.

Tommy looked over his shoulder to see what the duke was looking at.

“That is Robert Fortiscue, Bella’s beau,” Tommy informed him.

The duke straightened his shoulders.

Bella stepped out of the house bearing a tea tray and also took note of the rider approaching.

“Tommy, would you please bring us another teacup? We may have another guest.” Bella set the tray on a low stone table before seating herself in the chair next to the duke’s. “You are not feeling at all chilly, are you, your grace?” Bella asked her patient with concern.

“I am perfectly comfortable. Thank you, Miss Tichley,” he said as firmly as he could. He did not say that his shoulder felt as if someone were taking a pickax to it every minute or so.

The rider had reached the garden, dismounted, and stepped through the gate, waving a greeting to them.

The Duke of Westlake, whose only rival in sartorial elegance had been Beau Brummell, immediately noticed the multitude of capes gracing the visitor’s greatcoat. The sheer weight of the garment seemed to engulf the man, who, in the duke’s opinion, obviously had not the height, nor the breadth of shoulder, to carry off such a fashion.

“I wonder that he doesn’t topple over.” The duke drawled this aside to Tommy, who had seated himself on a stool next to the duke.

Tommy hid his snigger behind his hand as Bella made the introductions.

“Forgive me if I don’t get up, Mr. Fortiscue,” the duke said to the newcomer.

“Not at all! Not at all, your grace.” Mr. Fortiscue bowed deeply. “May I say that it is very good to see your grace up and about, so to speak.”

“Thank you.” Westlake briefly inclined his head as Mr. Fortiscue seated himself on a bench across from the duke and Bella.