The Irish Duke (9 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

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The duke spoke up. “The Duke of Wellington has often visited Woburn since he became prime minister. At the moment, I fully support his Tory government.”
“Now that the emancipation bill has been signed, I’m once again campaigning in the Commons for parliamentary reform,” Johnny announced. “So far, however, my efforts to introduce a bill to reduce election bribery have been unsuccessful.”
“It’s unconscionable that small boroughs owned by wealthy land-owners have the right to elect more Members of Parliament than large industrial towns like Birmingham and Manchester,” Abercorn commiserated.
“At the risk of being thought radicals, we have all supported a change to the voting system for years,” Lord Holland declared.
“Without reform, we run the risk of a revolution in Britain, like the one in Europe,” Earl Grey warned.
Bessy gasped. “Oh please, let us not speak of revolution. It’s the reason we had to leave Europe.”
Johnny smiled at his brother’s wife. “You’ll be quite safe in Mayfair, Bessy. Your townhouse is in the same general area as Russell Square. You’ll be neighbors of our brother Francis and his wife.”
“Yes, I correspond with Anna Maria.” Bessy looked puzzled. “Don’t you also reside at the Russell Square house, since you and Francis both sit in the House of Commons every day?”
“My committee work necessitates longer hours than Francis. I lease rooms close to Whitehall, but I visit Russell Square whenever I can.”
“Then I shall expect to see you in Cavendish Square,” she said archly.
Louisa sent Johnny a surreptitious look of horror that clearly told him to make no promises. He understood the look and hid his amusement.
Abercorn saw the look that passed between them.
Lord John and Lady Lu communicate without words. I envy him.
“Louisa, are you going to entertain us with one of your spectacular Spanish dances tonight?” Johnny asked his favorite sister.
Her mother jumped in immediately. It was a perfect opportunity for her daughter to display her talent and become the center of attention. “I’m sure we can prevail upon her.”
Louisa’s eyes lit up. “I’ll dance, if Johnny will do a soliloquy from Shakespeare.”
His brothers hissed good- naturedly. Lord John could quote numerous passages from Shakespeare with great dramatic flourish. “Since you are so enthusiastic, I’ll skip the soliloquy and do Henry V’s rousing address to his troops.”
“Yay!” Henry shouted, and Cosmo and young Alex banged their knives on the table.
James Hamilton grinned. “You are obviously a disruptive influence.”
And you are loved by the entire family. Someday, if I’m lucky enough, I’ll be part of it.
 
After dinner, the Russell family and all their guests trooped down to the theater. Louisa consulted with Georgy and asked her to play her Spanish piece. Johnny offered to go onstage first, to give Louisa time to change into her costume.
The curtains parted to show Johnny standing in the spotlight. A hush fell over the assembly as they anticipated the dramatic speech.
Lord John Russell threw back his head and his clear voice poured forth as if he were making a speech in the Commons.
“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with our English dead!
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility,
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger:
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage,
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect,
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon, let the brow o’erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O’erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swilled with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof,
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonor not your mothers. Now attest
That those whom you called fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture. Let us swear
That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not,
For there is none of you so mean and base
That hath not noble luster in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot.
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry, ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’ ”
A moment of awed silence was followed by deafening applause and shouts of “God for Harry, England, and Saint George!”
Johnny took a bow and the curtains closed. He left the stage and seated himself beside Abercorn amid rousing congratulations from the entire assembly.
Georgy took her place at the harpsichord and waited until the noise died down. She held her fingers above the keys and then brought them down in one loud chord.
The curtains swung open to reveal Lady Louisa affecting a dramatic pose. Her dark hair was pulled back smoothly, and a large crimson rose was pinned above one ear. She wore a flowing skirt and red silk shawl, and carried a black lace fan that concealed her face below her eyes.
Everyone drew in a swift breath of appreciation as the staccato music began and she raised her hands above her head, clicking the castanets in perfect rhythm to the pounding notes. Her red skirts billowed out, revealing black silk stockings and stiletto- heeled shoes. She danced a perfect
paso doble
, stamping her heels in quick tempo as the music pulsed and reverberated around the audience. The haughty, dramatic look on her face befitted a proud Spaniard. Her performance was theatrical, vivid, and striking. At the end, when she twirled her shawl, the illusion of the bull was tangible.
The applause was deafening as Louisa took her bows and cries of “Brava!” went up in the theater.
“She has a marvelous talent,” Johnny declared.
“Yes, she’s incomparable,” Abercorn agreed. “Someday I intend to make her my wife.”
Chapter Five
T
he affable Duke of Clarence sat quaffing claret in Woburn’s library in the company of his host and a crowd of male guests.
John Russell signaled his son Jack, who spoke up on cue. “We have arranged a hunt tomorrow in your honor, Your Highness. The pheasants are particularly plentiful this year. There will be no need to beat the bushes—the dogs will flush them out. You won’t get better shooting in all of England.”
“Splendid! I was hoping for a game shoot and brought along my guns, just in case.”
“Jack has agreed to help me manage the estate. For our many friends who come to Woburn for the game, my son has agreed to organize all the hunts from now on.”
“You are indeed lucky to have such fine sons, Bedford. You are blessed.”
Abercorn kept a straight face, though inwardly he was amused. The king’s brother had sons aplenty, albeit illegitimate. He had fathered five sons with the Irish actress Dorothea Jordan, who all bore the surname FitzClarence
.
Once the Duke of Clarence had been fortified with wine and mollified with the promise of a good hunt, John Russell brought up the subject of his son’s ambitions for a naval career. “Now that Edward has completed his studies at Oxford, all he talks about is joining the military. I told him he could seek no better advice than yours, William. No man breathing is more informed about the navy than the former Admiral of the Fleet.”
Abercorn was amazed at how adroitly Bedford handled the Royal Duke. With a combination of charm, flattery, and familiarity, he induced Clarence to use his influence and put in a word for Edward at the Admiralty, which would ensure a plumb naval commission.
Edward is extremely fortunate to have John Russell for a father. My stepfather, Aberdeen, is so dour and abrasive that he offends everyone he deals with.
Bedford refilled Clarence’s glass. “Drink up, William. It will fortify you against the impromptu ball the ladies have planned for this evening.”
 
In the Venetian drawing room, the ladies were regaling Princess Adelaide about the birthday ball they were holding that evening.
“Oh, I simply love to dance,” Adelaide admitted, “but I’m not sure I brought a suitable ball gown.” She put her hand up to her hair, rather self-consciously.
“Nonsense, Your Highness. We are completely informal here in the country. We don’t wear Parisian fashions at Woburn, I assure you. And if you like, I’ll have my maid do your hair in the latest style,” Georgina suggested.
“Princess Adelaide, you have such lovely thick, shining hair,” Louisa declared. “If it were fashioned into large curls and pinned up high with glittering ornaments, it would be extremely flattering.”
“I shall take your advice, my dear. I find it decidedly pleasant to be surrounded by young people. It makes me feel alive,” she confided.
 
Lady Sophia hurried into Louisa’s bedchamber. “I hear the pipers and the violins. I don’t want to be late for the dancing. Will you help me fasten my gown, please?”
Georgy threw her sister a look of disgust. “I told you our dresses were out of style, Lu. Slim empire gowns are decidedly old-fashioned. Waists are back to their natural place, and everyone in London is wearing full skirts and puffed-out sleeves.”
“It won’t matter tonight, Georgy. The young men from Oxford won’t know what the latest styles are,” Louisa assured her. “Mother will have new gowns made for us before we make our debut. She’s very fashion conscious.”
“We have only three bachelors to partner us tonight, Sophia, so please don’t push yourself forward and take advantage. You’ll have to seek a husband elsewhere.”
“Georgy, I’m not husband hunting. As a matter of fact, I’m being courted.”
Georgy’s mouth fell open. “By whom?” she demanded.
Sophia blushed. “His name is Thomas . . . Lord Thomas Cecil.”
“I believe Cecil’s brother is the Marquis of Exeter,” Louisa declared.
“Damn and blast! I must be the only twenty-year-old in England without prospects!”
“The night is young—you may very well have prospects before the ball is over.”
The musicians had finished tuning their instruments by the time the three young ladies arrived in the ballroom. All the married ladies had their husbands in tow. When Georgina arrived with the duke and saw that the bachelors were conspicuous by their absence, she lost no time in going below and rounding them up. She herded them to the third floor and signaled the musicians.
The first dance was a quadrille, and when Teddy Fox asked Georgy to partner him, she was eager to comply. Then Abercorn bowed before Princess Adelaide. She bestowed a radiant smile of thanks upon him and tripped forth as lightly as a girl.
George Grey partnered Lady Sophia, and Johnny clasped Louisa’s hand and led her onto the floor. Lu wasn’t embarrassed that her brother partnered her. He was one of the few males with whom she felt comfortable. These four couples formed the first square and went through the eight intricate figures that made up the dance. By the time the quadrille was over, the ice had been broken and everyone was laughing.
Georgina announced that a mazey dance would be next. Teddy Fox bowed before Louisa. “Would you guide me through this one? I’m not sure of the steps.”
She smiled at him. “Everyone gets mixed up in this one, though it’s simple enough. The ladies and gentlemen form two lines facing one another. Then the top couple raises their arms to form an arch and the other couples dance beneath it.”
The dance went smoothly enough until George Grey, who was partnering Georgy, forgot it was their turn to form the arch and the entire thing became a muddle of confusion. Good-natured laughter ensued until they all managed to straighten themselves out and finish the dance.
The duchess and her best friend had concocted a plan. Beth whispered to Georgina, “I think
now
would be a good time.”
Georgina held up her hands to gain her guests’ attention. “We will now have a cotillion, where everyone changes partners when the music stops. But Lady Holland tells me the latest craze in London is a
kissing
dance. So when the dance ends, the gentleman will kiss his partner!”
Whistles went up from all the males in the ballroom.
Louisa drew in a quick breath and she felt her cheeks grow warm.
Mother and Beth have come up with this plan because I told them I’ve never been kissed. I should leave!
An inner voice told her this was the only way she could win her wager with Georgy. When George Grey asked to partner her, she was on the horns of a dilemma.
Should I run or should I stay?
For a moment Louisa was rooted to the spot and then George took her hand and led her into the dance.
Each time the music stopped, there was a tangible air of anticipation. When it started again, everyone laughed and changed partners. The dance went on and on, as the musicians played a few bars, ceased playing for a beat or two, then resumed the music.
Georgina watched the couples closely. When at last she saw James Hamilton take her daughter Louisa as his partner, she signaled the musicians to end the dance.
When Louisa heard the music stop, she drew in a swift breath.
Oh, please, please, play on!
She waited as three beats stretched into four and she was suddenly gripped by panic.
This cannot be happening to me!
She glanced up and her eyes met Abercorn’s triumphant gaze. Her long black lashes swept down immediately and lay fanned against her pale cheeks. She stiffened as she felt Hamilton’s powerful arms envelop her. She could hear her heartbeat thudding inside her eardrums as fear spiraled through her belly.

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