Christmas with the Duchess (34 page)

“Julia in Lincolnshire?” Colin shook his head. “I repeat: poor Julia! Only two unmarried sisters? So Octavia got Palafox, after all?”

“Oh, yes,” Emma said. “She persuaded Mrs. Allen to forgive him. He married Octavia, and the three of them live quite comfortably in Bath. Four of them, including the pug.”

“You would not give them Wingate?” Colin laughed.

“They knew better than to ask me.”

“Did you see that?” Otto cried, spinning around. “Isn’t he brilliant? He walked right to me. It must have been a dozen steps.”

“Bravo!” Emma said, even though she had missed the whole thing.

Colin could not pretend to be impressed. “Mimi can smile and blow bubbles at the same time,” he said, “with nothing but her own saliva.”

Otto frowned at them. “Come, Aleta,” he said, hoisting Lord Scarlingford onto his shoulder. “Let us go and show Mama what Baby can do.”

“I think I will invite Augusta to come and live with me,” said Lady Harriet, when the Duke of Chilton had left the room. “I don’t think Harry would deny me anything while my arm is broken. I’ll invite your Scotsman too, if you like,” she offered civilly. “Not to live, of course. Just to Christmas.”

“You go too far, old woman,” said Colin. “I believe I’ll go to my room now,” he told his sister, climbing to his feet. “I think I need a nap.”

“What about Mimi?” Emma asked.

Colin yawned. “What about her? She looks very content in the arms of her aunt.”

Mimi was still in Emma’s arms when Colin joined them in Emma’s sitting room before dinner. “Have you been holding her all this time?” he asked her. “You really
do
want one of your own.”

Emma laid a finger across her lips to shush him. “She’s sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake her,” she whispered. “I have been thinking, Colin,” she went on softly, when she was sure the baby’s rest had not been disturbed. “Don’t you think that little Mimi should see her father. He probably wants to see her.”

“All right,” he said, stretching out his arms for the child. “I’ll take her off your hands. You must go and dress for dinner. That’s a lovely spot of drool on your bosom, by the way.”

Emma relinquished the baby and climbed stiffly to her feet. “I’ll just come out and say it, shall I?” she breathed. “Colin, I think you should write to Lord Camford and ask him to spend Christmas with us. I think it’s the right thing to do, don’t you?”

Colin frowned slightly. “Why don’t you write to him yourself?”

Emma shook her head vehemently. “I couldn’t! It would be better coming from you, don’t you think? Nicholas and I didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. But you’ve never had a quarrel with him, have you?”

“No. We’ve always gotten on very well,” Colin agreed. “I suppose I
could
write to him, if you want me to. But if you can’t even write the man a letter, won’t it be difficult for you to see him again?”

Emma laughed faintly. “Why? Because he didn’t seek me out after his annulment? He had no reason to. He’s at Camford House in London,” she added. “You should write to him soon.”

“I’ll write to him now,” Colin answered, carrying Mimi over to Emma’s writing desk, “if you will but lend me pen and paper.”

“I’ll hold her for you,” Emma offered as he seated himself at the desk, but he waved her away.

“As you can see, I’m perfectly capable of holding my daughter with my left arm while I write with my right hand,” he told her. “Go and get dressed. If I run into trouble, I’ll summon the nursemaid.”

When Emma returned twenty minutes later, the letter was written, the envelope sealed, and Mimi had been removed to the nursery. Colin brought the letter down with him and gave it to a servant. “Do you know,” he said, as he led his sister into the lounge, “I can’t help but feel a tiny bit responsible for that young man’s unhappiness. If I hadn’t been so determined to win my bet with Aunt Harriet, he might be safely married to Octavia.”

Emma snorted. “It doesn’t get any safer than that, does it? We need only ask Charles Palafox.”

“Well, perhaps Nicholas will have a happy ending, after all, in spite of everything.”

“Yes,” said Emma. “He’s young. I’m sure he will rally again.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” said Colin.

A light, feathery snow was falling on the morning that Nicholas arrived at Warwick.

Emma was sitting in the window of her sitting room with Aleta playing Fox and Geese. Colin and Cecily were playing piquet, and Otto was sitting next to the fire reading his newspaper.

“There’s a carriage coming up the road,” Aleta said suddenly, drawing the attention of the rest of the room. “Who do you suppose it is, Aunt Emma?”

“I don’t know,” said Emma, squinting at the vehicle as it came to rest outside.

“It might be Camford,” said Colin, coming over to the window for a look. “I can’t make out the crest on the door.”

Emma found her spectacles and put them on. “It can’t be,” she breathed. “It’s too soon. You only sent your letter two days ago, Colin.”

“By special messenger,” said Colin. “I think it is he.”

“He’s a tall gentleman,” Aleta reported. “He wears a blue coat. There is a lady with him, and a baby.”

That was enough to bring Cecily to the window. “Why, it
is
Lord Camford,” she said. “He always did favor a blue coat, I recall.”

“Never mind his coat,” Colin said impatiently. “Who is the lady?”

Lady Harriet came into the room to inform them that Lord Camford had just arrived. “That is no lady; it’s a woman. He has a woman with him—and a baby,” she added, brushing past Emma.

“You’re right,” said Colin. “It is a woman.”

“Definitely a nursemaid,” said Lady Harriet. “Foreign, by the looks of her. The child has red hair. Could it be Julia’s?”

“Nonsense. What would Nicholas be doing with Mr. Palafox’s baby?” Colin argued. “Besides, it’s walking. Julia’s baby couldn’t possibly be walking yet.”

“Uncle Colin!” Aleta complained. “I’m not supposed to know anything about Julia’s baby, remember? It’s a terrible secret.”

“And you still don’t know anything about Julia’s baby,” he answered. “
That
is not Julia’s baby.”

“Aleta, go to the nursery at once,” Otto commanded.

An argument ensued. Otto prevailed, of course, but by the time eleven-year-old Aleta reached the door, the butler had already opened it to announce Lord Camford. “Go on,” Otto commanded, and Aleta obediently left the room.

Emma hastily removed her spectacles and went forward to meet Nicholas. He had removed his hat and gloves, but he was still wearing his greatcoat. The snow on his coat had melted, leaving dark speckles on the blue wool.

“Good morning, Lord Camford,” Emma said clearly, offering him her hand. “I believe you know everyone here.”

Nicholas bowed over her hand, “How nice to see you again, your grace, your grace, and…your grace,” he said, addressing Emma, Cecily, and Otto, in turn.

“Oh, never mind all that,” Lady Harriet said impatiently. “Just tell us about the baby! We’re all dying to know.”

“Yes, of course,” said Nicholas. “I saw you looking at us from the window. I completely understand your curiosity.”

“Then do us all a favor and cure it!” Lady Harriet snapped. “Is it your child?”

“Mine?” Nicholas was astonished. “Well, of course the child isn’t mine! What would I be doing with a child? Who would his mother be?”

“That’s entirely up to you, I should think,” said Lady Harriet.

“Tell us!” Emma said. “Who is the child?”

“It’s Michael Fitzroy,” Nicholas answered.

Emma stared at him. “Michael!”

“The younger, of course,” Nicholas said quickly. “His mother came to see me in London. She has married again, you know.”

“Yes,” said Emma. “I knew that.”

“Her husband, the Conde da Fonseca, is a very…interesting…gentleman,” Nicholas went on, looking rather grim. “He refuses to accept the child, in no small part because he has red hair—the child, I mean, not the Conde. The Conde has black hair, like most Portuguese. He has taken his wife back to Portugal, but he will not allow her to keep the boy, I’m afraid. The poor lady came to me in tears. She pleaded with me to bring the child to his father’s family. I have done so.”

Otto was the first to speak. “If, by
interesting
you mean the man is a thorough blackguard, then yes! I think the Conde very interesting indeed! She simply left the child with you?”

“It was her husband’s idea to leave the boy with an attorney,” said Nicholas, “but he indulged the Condesa in her wish to leave him with me. I suppose there was no one else to ask, really. The rest of her acquaintance had already left London to go home for Christmas.”

“That was very good of the Conde, I’m sure,” Lady Harriet said acidly. “To indulge the poor woman!”

“How she must be suffering,” Emma murmured. “To be separated from her child.”

“Yes,” Nicholas agreed. “It was very sad to watch. However, given the way his stepfather feels about him, it is probably for the best that the child be with his father’s family.”

“We will take him, of course,” Emma said quickly. “Let him be brought in,” she ordered Carstairs, who had not left the room. “And send someone to find the duke and bring him here. Tell his grace it is urgent family business. And Lord Grey should be here, too. This concerns him as well.”

“There are some legal papers that were handed to me,” Nicholas said, when Carstairs had gone. “They are sealed, as you can see,” he went on, taking a leather pouch from the inside pocket of his greatcoat. The pouch was stitched closed. He handed it to the Duke of Chilton. “The child has one trunk, containing a few items of clothing, and a small box filled with letters and keepsakes from his mother. And this.”

He brought a flat velvet box out of his pocket. “The nurse gave it to me in the carriage,” he said, handing it to Emma.

Even before she opened it, Emma knew what the box would contain. “These are the emeralds I gave her,” she said sadly, “as a wedding present.”

“I doubt the Conde approved the return,” Otto said. “Was there anything else, Camford?”

Nicholas shook his head.

“Surely, the man gave you some money,” Colin said indignantly. “Enough to cover the expense of bringing the boy here!”

“I would not have accepted the offer of money,” Nicholas told him, “had such an offer been made. However, it was not.”

“This is unforgivable!” cried Emma. “The man should be whipped at the cart’s tail!”

“You will be reimbursed, my lord,” Otto told Nicholas. “I will see to it myself.”

“That will not be necessary,” Nicholas said quietly but firmly.

Otto knew better than to insist. “I believe we can safely assume that the child has been left on our hands without a penny to scratch himself with. Those emeralds are all he has.”

“But Michael did not die a poor man,” Emma objected. “His widow was very well provided for.”

Otto shook his head. “When Lord Michael died, his fortune became his widow’s property. When she remarried, unfortunately, that fortune became her husband’s. I shall be very surprised if the Conde bothered to make any provision for his stepson. And now,” he added, “Lord Camford must feel he is intruding upon a very private conversation. Perhaps someone would be good enough to show him to his room.”

“Thank you, your grace,” Nicholas replied. “However, I think I should stay with you a little longer. As far as I can tell, neither the nurse or the child can speak a word of English. Two years of disuse have not improved my Portuguese, but I may be helpful. I can make the introductions, anyway.”

“That is very good of you,” said Emma. “Thank you.”

Carstairs returned to the room alone. “I have sent runners to fetch his grace and Lord Grey,” he told Emma. “However, in the case of the child, he was in such a state of anxiety, I thought it prudent to let his nurse take him to the nursery.”

“Oh, of course,” said Emma. “Thank you, Carstairs. I should have anticipated as much. The other children will be of more use in comforting him than any of us could possibly be. I’m sure it would be overwhelming for him to meet us all at once, but, perhaps, Lord Camford, you might introduce him to me? I am his aunt, after all. I suppose I shall be the one to raise him.”

“I should be happy to make the introduction,” he said instantly.

“How does one say ‘welcome’ in Portuguese?” she asked, leading him from the room.

“Bem-vindo,”
he answered. “And then you might say,
Eu sou sua Tia Emma.
I am your Aunt Emma.”

The rudimentary Portuguese lesson soon wore itself out, and they walked in silence. As they came to the door of the nursery, Emma said to him, “You, of course, have a special reason for wanting to see the nursery.” She tried to sound cheerful.

Nicholas looked at her blankly. “I do?”

“Yes, of course. Mimi is here, you know. Did you not get my brother’s letter?” she asked, as he continued to look confused. “Colin’s letter?”

Nicholas shook his head. “I have not had the pleasure of receiving any communication from your brother. I did, however, receive
your
letter.”

Emma stared at him. “
My
letter!” she exclaimed.

“As I was leaving London, my manservant put the afternoon post into my hand. I went through it on my way here. Your letter—I believe I have it committed to memory, I have read it over so many times these last two days. ‘My dearest Nicholas,’” he recited, closing his eyes, “‘it has been almost a year since I last had the pleasure of seeing you, and almost two years since I have had the pleasure of holding you in my arms.’”

He opened his eyes and looked down at her warmly.

“
I
didn’t write that,” she said, horrified.

Nicholas frowned. “It was your paper,” he argued. “It was your handwriting. It was your signature. I suppose this really isn’t the time to discuss it,” he added, changing his tone. “You must have other things on your mind at present. I understand that. But do not deny that you wrote to me. Do not deny that you still love me.”

“As you say, this is not the time to discuss it!” said Emma. “I must see to the child.”

“When?” he insisted, catching her hand as she began opening the door to the nursery. “May I come to your room after tea? Before dinner? After dinner? Emma, we must talk about this letter of yours. I will not let you me push me away again.”

“After tea,” she heard herself whisper. “You remember the way, I presume?”

“Yes, very well.”

They went into the nursery. Little Michael Fitzroy was sound asleep in bed with his watchful nurse sitting beside him. Emma spoke briefly to the nurse, with Nicholas translating as best he could. Then Emma brought Nicholas to see the other children. Lord Scarlingford was playing with blocks on the rug, and Princess Mimi was nursing.

Nicholas immediately got down on the rug to play with the boy and Emma brought Mimi to him. “Would you like to hold her?” she asked. “You could sit in the window seat; it’s nice and warm.”

“All right,” he said agreeably. “I’m not very good with babies. My cousin, Lady Catherine, had a little girl earlier this year. All I do is make her cry. The baby, I mean. Not my cousin. I’ve not yet made
her
cry.”

When he was settled in the window seat with the child in his arms, he looked down at her. “So small! How old is she?”

Emma sat down beside him, touching the baby’s hand. “About three months.”

“She would have been conceived at Christmas, then.”

“Yes, of course. Isn’t she sweet? Colin just adores her. He’s had all these funny little costumes made for her.”

“She looks like her mother,” Nicholas said warmly.

“Oh, no, she looks like her father,” Emma argued, smiling. “Definitely.”

Nicholas frowned. “She doesn’t look anything like von Schroeder,” he objected.

“Schroeder!” Emma repeated. “But he is not her father, Nicholas. You are!”

Nicholas shook his head. “As much as I would like to think so, I know that isn’t possible, Emma. You and I have not been together in two years.”

“What has that to say to anything?” Emma wanted to know. “
I
am not the child’s mother. You think that
I
am her mother?” she exclaimed.

His eyes widened. “Aren’t you? If you’re not her mother, then why am I holding her?”

“Nicholas, this is Elke’s child!
Your
child.”

“No,” he said, giving the baby back to her. “Absolutely not. That is quite impossible, I can assure you. If this is Princess Elke’s baby, von Schroeder must be the father.
I
never touched the woman.”

“You forget that it was I who discovered you together,” said Emma, keeping her voice low and pleasant as Mimi began to fuss.

“She imposed on me,” said Nicholas, “but I declined to impose on her. That is not my child, Emma. It must be the major’s. I warned you he was a gigolo.”

“No, she can’t be the major’s,” Emma said. “The major has a very serious war wound that prevents him from—from fathering a child.”

“Oh,” Nicholas said, looking rather smug. “Not much of a gigolo, then, was he?”

“He could do other things that were highly satisfying,” Emma said.

Nicholas snorted. “Like what?”

Emma sighed. “The point is, Nicholas,
he
could not be Mimi’s father. It has to be you.”

“Well, it isn’t,” he said stubbornly.

“But there’s no one else.”

“Obviously, there is. I am not a liar, you know!”

As he raised his voice, Princess Mimi began to cry. From his seat on the rug, Lord Scarlingford stared at them, wide-eyed.

“I did not mean to accuse you of anything,” Emma began, rocking the baby.

“Forgive me,” Nicholas said brusquely. “I am worn out from the journey. It is making me short-tempered. If your grace will excuse me, I will go to my room now.”

Emma could hardly refuse. After he had gone, she remained in the nursery until she was summoned downstairs. Harry and Grey had returned to the house.

“How do we know Lord Camford did not receive any money?” Harry was shouting at the top of his voice as his mother reentered the drawing room. “He might have pocketed it, for all we know.”

“Harry!” Emma said, appalled. “How can you make such an accusation? We are indebted to Lord Camford. Another man might have refused to bring the child to us. The poor babe would have been left with lawyers.”

“Poor babe is exactly right,” Harry yelled. “According to these documents, the child has been left on my hands—
my
hands, Mama!—without so much as a penny. If it weren’t for those emeralds, he would have nothing.”

“The emeralds were a wedding gift to his mother. I’m sure, when he grows up, he will want to give them to his bride.”

“Then we cannot even sell them to raise money,” Harry complained.

“No, of course not,” said Emma.

“In that case, his upkeep, his education…I shall have to pay for everything, I suppose! It must all come out of
my
pocket.”

“You do not resent the child, surely,” Emma protested.

“Of course not, Mama,” he said angrily. “I know I must sound petty and ungenerous! It is the principle of the matter, Mama. How dare this man take my uncle’s fortune, but leave my uncle’s child behind, penniless? And my uncle Chilton tells me there is little we can do about it. The Conde, as he calls himself, has skipped off to Portugal, beyond the reach of English justice. It could take years to bring a case against him, in any event. By then my uncle’s money will all be gone anyway. I daresay he’s spending it as fast as he can! And, of course, if I pursue the matter, people will call me a nipcheese, a miser, a mean penny-pincher.”

“Worse than that,” said Emma. “If the child learns of it, he may think that
no one
wants him. Your cousin must never be allowed to feel that way.”

“I know my responsibility, Mama,” Harry said. “I bear no ill will toward my cousin. It’s just so bloody unfair that
I
should be the one who has to pay! I’m always the one who has to pay. I have to pay for Aunt Harriet’s allowance.”

“I beg your pardon,” Lady Harriet squawked indignantly.

“I have to pay Uncle Hugh an allowance, too!” Harry went on. “After all he’s done to me, I still have to pay him a thousand pounds per annum. This mess with Cousin Julia has cost me, too. I could have tenants in my Lincolnshire house, you know. Tenants who pay rent! Instead, I have to house my unfortunate relations and their illegitimate babies! Now
this!
I shall have to be generous to the boy, of course, generous to a fault, or people will say I am selfish, no doubt. And, of course, I want to be generous.”

“Of course you do, darling,” Emma said soothingly.

“But there are things that
I
would like to do, you know! For example, I would like to build a hunting box. The harbourer’s hut is far too small for all of us. But how can I? When disaster may strike at any time? When I may be called up to lay out huge sums of money at a moment’s notice? Wouldn’t it be selfish of me to build a hunting box?”

“Oh, Harry,” said Emma, reaching out to him. “You know that I will help you with Michael. Money has never been a problem for us.”

“This is a Fitzroy matter, Mama,” he told her, exasperated. “You are a Grey. I cannot take Grey money for a Fitzroy matter. My father would never have done so.”

“That is true,” Emma admitted. “Once my dowry was in his possession, your father never touched my accounts.”

“So you see? I am stuck with it all.”

Grey spoke up from the other side of the room. “I’m glad
I’m
not the duke. I’ve got plenty of money, and I don’t have to spend it on anyone but me.”

“I have a broken arm, you know,” said Lady Harriet, glaring around the room. “I think it very bad of you, Harry, to start talking of stopping my allowance when my arm is broken.”

“I never said I would stop it!” cried Harry. “I’m just saying, it is not fair!”

He ran from the room, knocking over the tall Chinese vase beside the door as he went. It crashed to the floor, breaking into pieces.

“That was probably worth more than ten years’ allowance,” Lady Harriet grumbled.

“You should go after him,” Colin told Emma, giving her a sharp nudge in the ribs.

“I will,” she said crossly. “Presently. He’ll be too upset to talk now. Anyway, I have a crow to pluck with
you.
”

She dragged him out of the room, saying, “What do you mean by writing Nicholas that—that beastly love letter? You signed my name to it, didn’t you?”

“You’re hurting me,” he complained, rubbing his wrist after she released his arm. “You asked me to write to him. I was only doing your bidding. You were too cowardly to write to him yourself.”

“But you signed my name to it!”

“I thought he should know the invitation came from you,” Colin replied.

“You told him I loved him.”

“I only told him the truth,” said her twin. “Didn’t I? It’s why you wanted him here in the first place, isn’t it?”

“No. I thought—I thought he was Mimi’s father. I thought he should know her. But he says he is not her father.”

“Of course he’s not her father,” Colin said indignantly. “
I
am her father.”

“I mean her real father,” said Emma.

“I
am
her real father! She is my daughter. Ergo, I am her father.”

“You?” Emma said. “You and Elke?”

“Why do you say it like that?” Colin said, frowning. “As if you doubted me?”

“She would have been conceived at Christmas,” said Emma.

“I know perfectly well when she was conceived! I was there. I felt sorry for Elke,” he explained. “You’d just ruined her chances with Camford, and that gigolo Schroeder couldn’t cut the mustard. The poor amazon was in tears. She said she couldn’t go back to Hindenburg without an heir. The Hindenburglars wouldn’t stand for it. As her husband, I felt slightly responsible.”

“
You
felt responsible?”

“Oh, all right,” he said impatiently. “It was Aunt Harriet’s idea. She thought it would be a real shame if someone as wonderful as me were to live out his days without taking the trouble to reproduce. I felt the sense of her argument. I am fairly wonderful, after all. So I did it. It was not very pleasant, but now I have Mimi, so I do not complain. She is perfect.”

“She is really my niece, then?” Emma groaned in dismay. “And I didn’t go to her christening!”

“You’re the worst aunt ever,” he told her.

“Oh, Colin, I am sorry.” She touched his arm. “You forgive me, don’t you?”

“No.”

Emma sighed. “Well, I can’t help that. I have to go to Harry now,” she added impatiently. “He needs his mother.”

“What a good thing you’re not his aunt!” Colin called after her.

“Go away, Mama!” Harry shouted through the door of his bedchamber. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“I will go away,” Emma answered, “if you will stop breaking things.”

“All right,” he agreed.

Silence ensued.

“You haven’t hurt yourself, have you?” Emma called through the door. “I heard glass breaking. Are you sure you haven’t cut yourself?”

Harry came to the door and opened it a crack. “I am fine, Mother,” he said. “As you can see. Just let me alone for a while. I’ll be all right.”

Emma could not resist touching his cheek. “Of course, darling,” she said softly. “But I’m right down the hall, whenever you’re ready to talk. I’m always here for you, Harry. You know that.”

“I know that, Mama.” He nodded glumly and closed the door.

Emma went back to her own room suffering from a bad headache.

“I could not wait until after tea,” said Nicholas, striding toward her as she was closing the door. “Emma, what can I do to convince you that I am not Mimi’s father? As you can see, I have nothing to hide. I have no secrets. I am yours.”

Emma caught her breath. Except for a strategically placed bunch of hothouse flowers, Nicholas was completely naked.

“Are those nasturtiums?” she asked curiously. “You took them from my vase, didn’t you? You’re dripping on my carpets!”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was trying to make a point. Emma, I did not have sexual relations with that woman.”