Duchess in Love (9 page)

“No,” Gina replied.

“No?” Lady Cranborne's voice rose. “In my note, written the very minute that scandalous piece appeared in the newspaper, I instructed you to let him go
immediately
!”

It was times like this that reminded Gina that Lady Cranborne and Cam's father were siblings. “I can hardly do that, Mother. He is my husband's employee—”

“I shall never understand why you brought him to a house party in the first place,” her mother declared. “Such a dreadful little—”

“He's not dreadful,” Gina put in. “He's just rather awkward.”

“There's something very peculiar about him. I can't fathom why you didn't simply leave him at the estate, if you couldn't bring yourself to let him go.”

“He wanted to come.”

“He wanted to come!
He
wanted to come!” Lady Cranborne's voice had risen to a shriek now. “You took into account the wishes of a servant. What else did he want, a visit to Buckingham Palace? No wonder
The Tatler
caught hold of this!”

“Mother!”

“Girtons do not behave like common rabble!” her mother said. “We do
not
abandon our dignity, ever, nor do we do odd things which allow the hoi polloi to mar your virtue. What on earth were you thinking of, Ambrogina?”

“It was foolish,” Gina admitted. “I merely said that I was sorry to suspend our tutoring, and he expressed such a wish to accompany me that I couldn't very well leave him behind. He's not a nuisance, Mother. I do enjoy learning Italian history.”

“He must go,” Lady Cranborne said ominously. “I shall speak to your husband immediately. Now I must leave. If I don't see you at luncheon, au revoir, dearest.” And she swept off with an expression that made it clear that she would be mollified only when one history tutor had walked out of the house with his bags in hand.

G
ina didn't see Cam until late afternoon. Lady Troubridge had organized a picnic al fresco at the banks of the River Saddler, which ran at the bottom of the gardens. Gina strolled down the hill with Esme.

“My goodness,” Esme said, as they neared the river.

“Who is that
exquisite
young man?”

Gina looked. “An actor. His name is something absurdly theatrical. Reginald Gerard, I think.”

Tables had been set out in the shade of some old willow trees that spread themselves like gossiping matrons on the riverbank. The actor was crossing the river by leaping from one protruding rock to the next, grabbing apples from a low-hanging apple tree, and returning them to the young ladies waiting on the bank.

Every once in a while he tottered and seemed sure to fall into the river, eliciting little shrieks from the flock of debutantes clustered on the bank.

“What a nauseating spectacle,” came a drawling voice at Gina's ear.

She turned to smile at her husband, quite as if she hadn't
spent the whole morning watching the parlor door for his arrival. “Hello, Cam.”

“Will you introduce me?” he said, looking appreciatively at Esme.

Esme curtsied, a little smile lurking at the corner of her mouth.

“This is Lady Rawlings,” Gina said. “Esme, my husband.”

“A true delight,” Cam said, kissing her hand.

Gina felt a stab of annoyance. Cam
was
married, after all. As was Esme.

“Oh look, Esme,” she said coolly. “There's Burdett.”

Her friend managed to tear her eyes away from Cam and waved to Bernie, who came loping over with the eager pace of a well-trained retriever. “How do, then?” he said cheerfully. “How do? I'm Bernie Burdett.”

Cam bowed. “I am the Duke of Girton.”

“Oh,” Bernie said, clearly nonplussed. But then his face cleared. “Your Grace? Your Grace!” Confident now of the proper salutation, he managed to reiterate his own name without prompting.

“Well done, Bernie,” Esme said, tucking her hand into his arm. “Shall we sit down, everyone?”

Cam fell in beside Gina. To her annoyance his eyes were fixed on Esme's slender back. “What on earth is she doing with him?” he asked quietly.

“Bernie is a very, very—”

“—very picture of a fool?” Cam supplied.

Esme and Bernie had reached the edge of the river. As they watched, Bernie took off his jacket and threw it on the riverbank. Then he leaped gracefully from rock to rock without a moment's hesitation, putting the young actor and his overdramatic stunts to shame.

“Aha,” Cam said, with amusement roughening his voice.

“I see the light.”

Gina followed his gaze. Bernie's gray morning trousers were molded to legs as muscular and shapely as it was possible for a man's legs to be. In truth, with the sun shining on his golden hair, Bernie Burdett probably looked as well as he had ever looked in his life. He had reached the other side of the river now and reached up to pluck an apple. White linen stretched across beautifully defined shoulders. A second later he was back at Esme's side.

“Yes,” Gina murmured.

“Well, don't go into a trance,” Cam snapped. “Physical beauty is not everything.”

She looked at him curiously. “I would think that a sculptor would value beauty above all other attributes.”

Cam shrugged. “I could sculpt Burdett, but I couldn't do much about his brains. He would still look like a Jack Pudding.” Bernie had handed over his apple and was kissing Esme's hand as a reward. “How can she bear to be around him?”

Gina didn't ignore the innuendo, because there was no scorn in Cam's tone, only genuine curiosity. “Esme has a great love of beauty,” she explained. “At the same time, she seems to choose friends who have—who are—”

“Half witted?”

“Well—” Gina said reluctantly.

Cam shrugged. “It's a common decision in the male case. The ideal mistress is beautiful, cheerful, and indolent. Bernie seems to fit the bill.”

“Do you—” Gina caught herself. There was something about Cam's beguiling curiosity that lured her into saying whatever came to mind.

“I don't have a mistress, at the moment,” he said obligingly. “But when I did, she fit precisely into the parameters I just outlined.”

“And wives,” Gina said, feeling dispirited, “should wives be the same?”

“Less beautiful is acceptable, but they must be even more obedient,” Cam said. “Do you think you could live up to the bill, had we been married in earnest?”

“I never gave it a thought,” she said, sweeping him a glance under her eyelashes. He had the most suggestive grin she'd ever seen on a man, this husband of hers. “But I doubt it. Obedience is not one of my virtues.” She turned to walk toward Sebastian, but Cam stepped directly in her path.

“One doesn't wish a wife to be obedient at all times, you know.”

He looked as if he were laughing at her, but she wasn't sure why. “What are you saying?” she asked.

“Obedience is such a complicated issue,” he said dreamily. “For example, with regard to the bedchamber, one must choose a wife—”

Gina cut him off. “That is of no concern to me. I am quite aware that you did not choose me as your wife.”

“True enough,” Cam said. “I remember my father telling me that you would ripen into a beauty, though, and you certainly have fulfilled his prophecy.”

Gina gaped. “Your father said
that
?”

Cam nodded. “Is it so surprising?”

“When I made my debut, he remarked that I should be thankful I already had a wedding ring, so that I needn't try to parade my wares on the market. I always took that to be an insult.”

“Quite right too,” Cam remarked. “My father was a master of the insulting remark. In fact, he said very little that one could not take offense at.”

“Besides, I am not beautiful in the way Esme is beautiful,” Gina remarked, wondering why on earth she was saying something so pitiful.

Cam looked over at Esme. “Yes, Lady Rawlings is cer
tainly one of the most classically beautiful women I've ever seen, in England at least.”

“I can't imagine why we're discussing such a foolish topic,” Gina said airily.

“Come along!” Esme called, waving at them.

Cam turned toward the classical beauty, but Gina walked toward Sebastian instead. It was best that she not spend time with her husband. She certainly didn't want to weaken her chances for an annulment.

Sebastian was sitting alone at a small table. He had an expression that she secretly thought of as his puritanical look. She slipped into a seat with her back to Esme and Cam.

“How
is
Lady Rawlings this morning?” Sebastian asked disagreeably. “She certainly seems to be enjoying herself.”

“I'm sure that she is,” Gina said, glancing back. Esme was ensconced between Bernie and Cam, and shining with pleasure. Cam was leaning toward her as if she were speaking pearls of wisdom.

“I suppose if she keeps your husband occupied, it will be all the better for the annulment,” Sebastian remarked.

“I expect so,” Gina murmured.

It was unfortunate that Sebastian was facing Esme's table, because he didn't seem to be able to keep his eyes off her. All the way through lamb à la béchamel he kept up a hissing commentary on Esme's bold seduction of Gina's husband. “At this rate, your annulment proceedings will be twinned with a bill for divorce from Rawlings,” he said disagreeably.

Gina was beginning to feel slightly sick. “Sebastian!” she finally said, “don't you think that I am the one who should be upset, if anyone? And I'm not. Who does it hurt if Cam and Esme grow acquainted? No one.” She took a bite of chicken. It tasted like a wrung-out piece of dishcloth.

“I suppose you're right. I just don't like to see a good man drawn in—”

“You are forming a veritable obsession!” Gina said, exasperated. “To be honest, you are quite impolite to even air this subject in my presence.”

Sebastian look startled, and then appalled. “You must forgive me, Gina. I completely forgot that you have no more experience of the world than a mere green girl.”

“I'm not quite that uninformed.”

“No, I insist on apologizing.” Sebastian's blue eyes smiled at her so warmly that Gina felt more friendly despite her annoyance. “I allowed your innocence to slip my mind. And yet that is one of the qualities I most love about you, Gina: your air of being untouched by the seamier side of life.”

“And what will happen when we are married and I am no longer so innocent?” she asked baldly.

Sebastian smiled. “You will always have an innocent beauty. There is something untouched and untouchable about you—the mark of good breeding bred in the bone.”

“But, Sebastian—” Gina began, entertaining for one reckless moment the idea of discussing her newly discovered illegitimate brother.

Lady Troubridge was clapping her hands for attention and Sebastian instantly turned toward their hostess.

“Hear ye! Hear ye!” Lady Troubridge cried gaily. “Mr. Gerard has agreed to organize a small performance for the weekend—just a few scenes from Shakespeare. Anyone who would like to take part in a reading, will you make yourselves known?”

To Gina's dismay, Sebastian's brow darkened again. “Performing with a professional actor? Grossly
improper
!”

“Oh, Sebastian,” she said, “sometimes I think that is your favorite word.”

He opened his mouth and then paused. To her inexpressible relief she saw a glimpse of the old Sebastian, before he became so intent on his rank and title. “I'm getting to be stiff-rumped, is that what you're saying?”

She smiled gratefully into his eyes. “Only a little bit.”

“My father was an old stick. I was thinking about it last night. I reckon you're right, Gina. I'm getting prudish.” He looked horrified at the thought.

Gina patted his hand, wishing she could be more demonstrative, but that would shock not only Sebastian, but the rest of the assembly as well.

“I have you,” he said, looking into her eyes.

“Yes, you have me,” she repeated, rather heartily.

“Well, isn't that endearing? We should all be so lucky as to possess Gina,” Cam continued silkily at Gina's shoulder.

“In fact, I do believe that we both have the
same
good luck! Isn't that extraordinary?”

“I am a lucky man,” Sebastian said, too loudly.

“And so am I, so am I.”

“Gina and I were about to volunteer to take parts in the Shakespeare reading,” Sebastian said, standing up so quickly he almost knocked over his chair. “If you'll excuse us—”

“Don't let me hinder you. I was thinking of joining the performance myself, and I know that Lady Rawlings will feel the same,” Cam remarked. He turned and waved at Esme, and to Gina's disgust, her best friend smiled at him so warmly that she felt a curl of embarrassment. Esme had no right to openly seduce
her
husband.

“Come along, Sebastian!” she snapped, walking toward Lady Troubridge without waiting for Esme.

The young actor, Reginald Gerard, was surrounded by a fluttering group of debutantes who all seemed to be giggling and begging to play the heroine. But their hopes were quickly dashed by Lady Troubridge.

“I'm sorry, girls,” she said briskly, shooing them away with a brightly colored handkerchief. “But your mothers and I have decided that performing a play is a little too daring for girls who are unmarried. I'm not having any scandal attached to my party!” She sanguinely ignored the fact that her house parties invariably provided the prime gossip for the first two months of the season. “No, Mr. Gerard will have to make do with married women, that's all. You four will be perfect!” she exclaimed.

Gina watched as Reginald Gerard's face fell. It was clear that he didn't wish to spend his afternoons with married couples. Likely he hoped to elope with an heiress.

“I agree with you, my lady,” Sebastian was saying to Lady Troubridge. “Dramatic prose is entirely too exciting for young ladies.”

“What play are you considering?” Cam asked.

“A few scenes from
Much Ado About Nothing,
” the young actor replied. He might have been disappointed, but he rallied and bowed politely enough. “May I introduce myself? I am Reginald Gerard.”

“I believe I saw you at Covent Garden this past season,” Sebastian said, bowing. “I am Marquess Bonnington. This is the Duchess of Girton, and Lady Rawlings. And the Duke of Girton,” he added.

Reginald smiled at the little circle. “I think we shall be able to come up with an enchanting little performance here. Perhaps the duchess could play Hero and—”

“I think not,” Cam interrupted. “The duchess and I had better play Beatrice and Benedick. After all, we
are
married, and it would be quite harrowing for me to see another man at my wife's bedchamber window.”

“Oh, of course,” Reginald agreed.

Sebastian frowned. “What's this about a bedchamber window?”

“In the play, Claudio—that would be you, my lord—believes that his betrothed, Hero, has been unfaithful to him when he thinks he sees another man at her window.”

“That sounds most unsuitable to me,” Sebastian said, frowning. “Is the play appropriate for mixed company?”

“It was performed with great success only last season,” Reginald said politely. “Besides, we will only do a few scenes. If there is anything that you and Lady Rawlings do not feel quite comfortable with, we will avoid that section. I suggest that we meet in the library before supper, and decide on the scenes.”

Gina felt a warm hand at her waist for a split second. “Do you suppose that we will survive a foursome for an hour or more?”