The Duke's Reform (17 page)

     
The marriage was definitely over. She could never be intimate with him knowing
he was sharing his body with another woman. She decided to remain seated. This
would make it clear she was not overjoyed to see him again.

     
Alexander strode in. She gasped. She'd never seen him in such disarray, his
many caped riding
coat
was still slung around his
shoulders and his usually pristine Hessians were barely recognizable beneath
the thick mud. As for his breeches, they were not only dirty but ripped and
bloodstained. This drew her attention to a nasty gash running across his thigh.
If the injury was not attended to immediately he might well succumb to a putrid
wound.

Forgetting her vow to treat him as he deserved
she scrambled to her feet. 'Alexander, did you take a fall? Look at your leg— I
believe it might need the attentions of a physician.'

     
He glanced down as if noticing it for the first time. He frowned and looked
almost embarrassed. 'My dear, I beg your pardon …'

     
Laughing she interrupted him. 'Please, don't do so.
Mr
Bentley was forever begging my pardon, and if I had not sent him packing I
believe I should have screamed.'

     
'I was going to
apologise
for appearing in my filth,
but obviously that's unnecessary. I take it the idiot has departed from here?'

     
'Indeed, I'm afraid I did not take to him at all. He was served breakfast and
then evicted. I made myself scarce until he was driven away.' She tugged the
bell-strap before continuing. 'Give me your outer garments. Good grief! Where
is your hat?'

He grinned ruefully. 'I believe that went when
I had my altercation with a tree branch. I didn't take a tumble, in fact until
you mentioned it I hadn’t
realised
the damage I'd
sustained.'

     
The butler appeared followed by two footmen. 'Brown, his grace has sorely
injured his leg. He will need it attending to.'

     
'Right away, my lady.'
He bowed to Alexander and
stepped closer in order to remove his coat. 'If you would care to come with me,
your grace, I've considerable experience with wounds of this sort. I was
Colonel Fitzwilliam's batman, and you might have read about
his
injury
at the Battle of
Talevera
.'

     
Alexander was given no chance to refuse. She watched with amusement as he was
all but bundled from the room. He smiled at her over his shoulder. 'When I am
repaired, my dear, do I have your permission to join you down here?'

     
She was on her feet watching anxiously. 'Don’t you think you should remain in
your bed chamber and have your dinner brought up to you?'

     
'Certainly not.
And anyway, my love, the amount I
intend to consume would require three chambermaids to bring it to me.'

     
His chuckles filled the room as he was escorted away. Should she send for
Dr
Jamieson? Perhaps it would be better to wait and see
what Bill said after he had dressed the cut. One thing she did know, he could
not possibly ride back to London tomorrow. Of course, he could travel in the
carriage with Duncan, but even then the horses would need twenty four hours to
recuperate.

     
He must take no risks with his health. What if he were to die? The very thought
that
Mr
Bentley would inherit if the child was a girl
was enough to make her hair stand on end. Although she no longer loved
Alexander she had no wish for him to perish. After all he was the father of the
baby she was carrying, and despite everything that had gone between them, she
still cared enough to wish him well.

     
The dinner gong sounded before he reappeared. She had resisted the urge to go
up and change and was still in her gold velvet. He, however, was resplendent in
a different jacket, this one of bottle green, his shirt crisp, his neck cloth
tied intricately and his waistcoat a delightful shade of gold silk. His
inexpressibles
had been exchanged for pantaloons and he had
slippers on his feet instead of his customary boots. He was leaning heavily on
the banister as he descended the staircase.

     
'I know, Isobel, I should have remained where I was. It's a damn nuisance. I've
no more wish to be here then you do to accommodate me.'

     
Shocked by his abruptness she was unable to answer. Then she saw the lines of pain
etched on either side of his mouth. His injury must be far worse than she'd
thought. She hurried to his side and offered her arm.

     
'Lean on me, Alexander. I do wish you had not come down, I shall send for the
physician straightaway.'

     
‘You'll do no such thing. Your butler has put a couple of sutures in; he did a
neat job too. I doubt Jamieson could do any better. I am fatigued; I haven't
slept for days and have spent more time in the saddle than I have on my own two
feet. I fear I shan't be able to leave tomorrow as you wished.'

     
'Of course not, you must remain here until you're fully recovered. Has your man
arrived yet?'

     
'No, he will be benighted. The weather has deteriorated but I'm sure he had the
good sense to find himself a bed for the night. He will appear when the storm
has abated. The boy who is acting as my valet is perfectly competent, and
fortunately I've enough garments to not appear unkempt.'

     
With some difficulty she guided him down the passageway to the chamber in which
they were to eat. When a footman approached he scowled and the young man backed
away hastily. They were both relieved when they arrived without mishap.

'Alexander, you take the seat nearest the fire.
You don't look too well; I am most concerned for your well-being.'

     
'Don't fuss, Isobel. It is I that should be looking after you. God willing,
you're carrying the next Duke of Rochester. Heaven forfend that numbskull
should take the title after my demise.'

     
There was little she could add to that heartfelt comment. There was something
she didn't quite like about Bentley and it wasn't just his ridiculous
appearance and flowery manners. She shook her head at her fancies, Mary had
told her to beware of false emotions. It would seem such wild imaginings were
quite common when a woman was increasing.

     
The meal was eaten in silence— she too concerned about his appearance to make
chitchat and he too busy eating enough for three men. When he finally pushed
away his plate she laughed. 'I shall stop worrying about you, Alexander. If you
were truly ill you could not have eaten so much.'

     
He smiled that special smile and her insides melted. 'I shall be perfectly fine
tomorrow morning after a good night's sleep. However, I fear I shan't be able
to depart until it is more clement.'

     
'Of course you must not. If you have finally finished, there are several things
I wish to discuss with you. Can you manage, or shall I send for someone for you
to lean on?'

     
'I am quite well, but my leg hurts like the very devil and I can barely keep my
eyes open. Could our conversation keep until tomorrow, my dear?'

     
Carefully he pushed himself upright. His knuckles were white where he gripped
the table. He was not nearly as well as he pretended. 'Remain where you are,
Alexander I shall send for assistance. No, don't scowl at me. You’ll never
ascend the stairs under your own volition. Do you wish to add a cracked head to
your injuries?' She spoke to him as if he were a child. How things had changed—
had he not addressed her in such a way last year?

     
Bill and two hefty footmen appeared so rapidly to answer her summons she
guessed they had been expecting to be called. 'His grace will require your
assistance to return to his bed chamber.'

     
This time Alexander did not argue but slung his arms around the shoulders of
the two young men and hobbled out. She was most concerned to see he could put
no weight on his injured leg. As soon as he was comfortable she would go up and
see to him herself. There could be no disagreement about her being in his bed
chamber; after all she was still his wife and who else had more right to be
there than she?

Chapter Twelve

Isobel left
Alexander in the capable hands of George, his temporary valet. Secure in the
knowledge there was nothing further she could do for him. He was sleeping
peacefully and she returned to her bed chamber where Sally was waiting to help
her disrobe.

     
She was woken later by someone beside her. 'Mary, is he worse?'

     
'Yes, my lady, he is. George came to fetch me, Sam said as I was to get you.
The duke is burning up and there's no way we can fetch a doctor. A foot of snow
has fallen this past
hour,
no one will get in or out
of Newcomb for a day or two.'

     
'You did right to rouse me. Fetch Bill, he will know what to do.'

     
It was the work of moments to pull on her bed robe and ram her bare feet into
slippers. Then with candle stick held aloft she hurried through the icy
passageway to the guest chamber at the rear of the house. She entered through
the private sitting room. She pushed open the door and reeled back.

 'Good grief! This room is like a
furnace,
small wonder his grace is overheated.'

     
George looked mystified. 'I made the fire up a treat, my lady, I thought that
was right.'

     
'Not in my experience, it tends to make the fever worsen. Quickly, open all the
windows and I shall do something about the flames.' There was a half-filled jug
of water on the wash stand in the dressing room and she threw it over the fire.
Immediately the room was full of hissing coals and choking steam, but the fire
was more or less out.

 Mary rushed in followed by Bill, who
coughed and looked round in astonishment but he nodded at Isobel.
'Exactly what I would have done, my lady.
Bring down the
fever as quick as possible, I've seen men dropped in icy water—but that's
kill
or cure.'

'I hope my drastic measures won't prove fatal.
Mary, we shall need fresh water to wash him down and a jug of barley water or
lemonade.'

The room had cleared and a howling gale was
whistling through, the curtains were almost horizontal and flurries of snow
spiralled
across the boards. 'George, I think you can close
the windows now, the temperature has dropped sufficiently.'

She was decidedly chilly in her night apparel.
The fire was a sullen glow in the grate; they could do with slightly more heat
but it refused to burn any brighter. The water she had thrown on it earlier
still puddled on the hearth.

'His grace will do very well, now, my lady.
He's sleeping peacefully, the flush on his cheeks all but gone. I can take care
of him if you would like me to.'

'I intend to stay, I'm wide awake now. All of
you,
return to your beds, I shall ring if I require any
further assistance.'

Mary was the only one who seemed pleased by
this suggestion. When Isobel was alone she looked around for somewhere warm to
curl up. Alexander was cool to the touch so perhaps it would be safe to leave
him. She shivered and stared crossly at the fire which refused to burn with any
heat.

The bed was the only place in the chamber that
would provide her with any warmth. If she crept in the far side, making sure
she was on top of the sheets and not inside them, he would not even know she
was there. Kicking off her slippers she slipped under the covers and was soon
drifting off to sleep.

A short while later she woke. Botheration! She
must get out again and use the chamber pot behind the screen. Comfortable once
more she scrambled back into bed, this time removing her bed robe for she had
all but suffocated with that on. She settled into a deep sleep and her dreams
were filled with images of the man she had once loved.

His arms were round her, his heat burning
through the thin cloth of her nightdress. Then his lips found hers and she
drowned in the sweet sensation. The dream was so vivid it was almost real. The
heat curled through her sending wave after wave of delicious pleasure from her
toes to the top of her head.

She moved restlessly and his kiss deepened. His
lips drifted down until they reached her breast. It hardened and her nipple
peaked beneath his tongue. It had been so long — but her body remembered what
to do. The touch of his hand on her belly sent shock waves to the very centre
of her being,
then
his fingers slipped downwards
between her thighs to stoke her secret place.

Gently he rolled her over until she was resting
on her side. His arousal pressed hard into her buttocks. Her eyes flew open.
This was no dream—this was reality. She must stop him.
Too late.
He lifted her and was inside. She forgot everything as she was swept away with
every thrust until her world exploded into ecstasy.

     
She lay exhausted in his arms too shocked by what had taken place to move or
speak. The discomfort of her night gown which was bundled up around her waist
eventually roused her. The events of the last night she had been with him
flooded her mind. For a second time he had taken advantage of her, made love to
her when he knew she did not wish him to.