Two Notorious Dukes (7 page)

Argyll waited for the dogs to flush the pheasants
again and suddenly there was the croak of the cock and
the hens flew up into the air. He let go with the musket
and watched two hens fold their wings and plummet to
the earth. The dogs brought the two birds back and he
carefully took them and put them in his game satchel.
‘Come along, Hetty.’ He said to the spaniel and ruffled
her ears as the Labrador fell in at his knee.

‘Are you finished for today, Your Grace?’ the
gamekeeper asked.
‘Yes, thank you, Willoughby.’ He set off back to
the mansion; there was no other name for the
sprawling monstrosity that was the ducal residence. It
had started as an Elizabethan Manor and been added to
so many times that the whole building was a hodgepodge of styles and designs. The only thing that saved it
from disaster was the beautiful gardens his father had
had Capability Brown design. From the smallest rose
bed under the library window to the three mile long
lake, it had taken Brown a month to draw it and five
years to complete. It had taken twenty gardeners a year
and a half to dig out the ground for the lake and all the
soil had been piled up to make an undulating landscape.
There were trees and bushes from all over the world in
the different aspects, but Argyll’s favourite place, was
the terrace over looking the formal lawn, in the evening
as the sun was going down.
As he arrived at the kitchen door, he handed the
game bag to one of the boys, the dogs were taken for
feeding and he sat on the stone bench to remove his
boots.
‘Your Grace?’ Harrison the butler poked his head
out of the door.
‘Yes, Harrison.’ Argyll said as he stifled a yawn.
‘There is a
gentleman
to see you, Your Grace.’
‘I’m not sure I like the way you said that,
Harrison?’ Argyll said quizzically.
‘I’ll use the term loosely, Sir. He looks like a
gentleman, but I don’t think he is one.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve
put him in the drawing room, Sir.’
‘Very well, Harrison. Tell him I’ll be there in a few
minutes.’ He took a stiff brush and scrubbed all the
dried mud off his boots, slipped them back on his feet
and went into the house. He threw his hat on the hall
table and proceeded into the drawing room to be
confronted with Alexander Audley.
‘Hello, Audley. What are you doing here?’ he
asked cheerfully.
‘Where is she?’ he demanded brutally.
‘I’m sorry, who are you asking for?’ Argyll said
placatingly.
‘Elizabeth, she was at your London house, so
where is she?’
‘I suppose she’ll be with Lady Verity, where ever
she is.’ Argyll said as if surprised that he was there.
‘Would you like some refreshment?’
‘No, I wouldn’t. All I want is what I’m due!’ he
spat.
‘Well, I’m not a legal expert, but I think you
already have everything you’re due, old boy.’ He
laughed jovially, ‘but for all I know Mother could be at
Brighton or Bath. She might even have gone up to
Leamington.’
‘Damn!’ exploded from Audley.
‘Listen, you should forget about Lady Elizabeth.
There isn’t a court in the land that will give her to you!
Not even the House of Lords.’
‘When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it!’ Audley
snapped, snatched his hat off the table and stormed out
of the door. Argyll watched him from the hall as he
climbed into a small barouche with a pair of white
horses.
Very expensive,
Argyll thought,
but no breeding.
Not even in his horses!
The coachman flicked his whip
and the horses started away before Audley was seated
and he almost ended up face first in the seat. Argyll had
a job not to laugh.
Well, he’s been. I’d better send
Mother a message.
And he sauntered into his study,
poured himself a whiskey and drew a sheet of high
quality vellum towards him. Dipping his favourite quill in
the ink pot he penned a letter to his mother, taking his
time and writing carefully. She would be annoyed if
there were blots or mistakes in the letter. She would
expect him to write just as well if it was a message to his
boot maker!

The Manor wasn’t as big as Elizabeth thought it
would be. It was obviously a Tudor manor, as the
crenellated turrets at the front purported, like the ones
at Hampton Court Palace, which she’d seen the previous
summer. The grounds weren’t particularly formal, but
were obviously well cared for and as the carriage pulled
up at the bottom of the broad steps the housekeeper
appeared at the door.

‘Good afternoon, Your Grace.’ She said smiling
kindly as Robert heaved himself out of the saddle.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs. Simmons.’ He opened the
carriage door and helped the ladies out. The
introductions were smooth and she curtsied to all of
them.
‘Mrs. Simmons will escort you upstairs, and
there will be refreshments on the terrace, when you’re
ready!’ Robert said. Elizabeth could tell he was more
relaxed already.
Inside the front door was a wide hall, complete
with an oak beam ceiling and numerous fireplaces. The
furniture was all Tudor and well cared for, Lady Verity
was quite pleased with the over powering smell of
beeswax. Once upstairs, Lady’s Elizabeth and Sarah
were given adjoining rooms in the west wing, The
Duchess was given a suite in the East wing and Robert
would be in the Main Suite at the front of the house.
Burke had already sorted his belongings and Mary had
already seen to Elizabeth’s. The Duchess’s maid was still
in the process, as she’d ridden on the coach seat next to
the driver and a local girl had been employed for Sarah.
Robert stripped off his jacket, waistcoat and
cravat on his way through the house and as he got
outside the back, he was met by the steward. They
chatted amiably about the estate and any problems
there were and then Robert fulfilled a deep seated wish
he’d had for about a week. He went straight to the lake
and threw himself in it. He dumped his boots in the
meadow grass and stood on the bank and threw himself
into the cold water. It wasn’t long until he was joined by
the estate children and the boys started racing. The girls
sat on the dock and dangled their feet in the water.
Elizabeth and Sarah could see it from their
windows. Sarah went downstairs to saunter about the
house, but Elizabeth remained at the window, watching
as Robert threw the boys in the water, one at a time
and how they swam. She suddenly picked up her
parasol and went straight downstairs and out into the
garden. It didn’t take long to get to the lake and she
stood quietly by the trees and listened to the laughter
of the children. One of the little girls approached her.
She curtsied clumsily and said. ‘Would you care to join
us Milady?’ and indicated where the older girls were
dragging a log forward.
‘Thank you that is most kind.’ Elizabeth said
graciously and strolled along with the small girl. She was
shocked when the girl took her hand, like a daughter
would, and she gasped as her eyes filled with tears.
She carefully sat on the log and arranged her
skirts and demurely folded her hands in her lap, but the
girl had no intention of letting her sit so properly.
Suddenly she was clambering into Elizabeth’s lap and all
the girls gathered around her. ‘Why are you crying?’ the
girl asked and Elizabeth only shook her head.
Robert was watching from his vantage point in
the lake and he swam over to the dock. ‘Lady Elizabeth.
I see Amelia has found you!’
She could only nod, but he smiled encouragingly
and swam back out into the centre of the lake, where
there was a floating pontoon. He heaved himself up
onto it and the boys joined him for more throwing.
They lost track of the time and Mrs. Simmons
sent one of the kitchen maids to find them.
‘If you please, Ma’am?’ she said timidly to
Elizabeth, ‘but Mrs. Simmons is serving tea on the
terrace. Ma’am.’
‘Thank you. Tell Mrs. Simmons we shall be there
directly.’ Amelia scrambled off her knee and stood right
at the edge of the dock and yelled. ‘Tea’s up!’ at the top
of her young voice. All the boys started swimming
frantically for the bank, making Elizabeth and the girls
shriek and run as they splashed ashore. But Robert went
another way and abruptly he appeared between some
bushes, startling Elizabeth so much, that her hand flew
to her throat and she yelped. She stood there with her
breath caught in her throat as she stared at his chest
through the open front of his shirt. The part of Elizabeth
that was frustrated, wondered what it would be like to
scrape her fingers through the hair on his chest. She
blushed furiously at her own wicked thoughts.
‘May I accompany you, Lady Elizabeth?’ he asked
formally and Elizabeth sniggered at his wet bedraggled
hair and sopping clothes. She put her fingers over her
lips and laughter spluttered out of her.
‘Of course, Your Grace.’ She murmured as she
regained her composure and held her head high as she
walked along the path. The children were all around
them and one small boy approached with Robert’s
boots in his hands.
‘Thanks, Tommy. You should all get off, now or
your mother’s will have my hide!’ he said and suddenly
all the children vanished.
They continued to walk calmly back to the
house. Sarah and Verity could see them approaching
and Verity smiled contentedly that everything was going
according to her plan.
As they arrived at the terrace, Robert saw
Elizabeth into a chair. ‘I must just pop and change out of
these wet clothes.’ And Robert was gone in a flash.
‘What have you been doing, my dear?’ Lady
Verity asked, raising an arched eyebrow at the water
marks on her gown.
‘Lord Bosworth was swimming with the estate
children and I couldn’t resist it.’ Both women heard the
heartache and sob in her voice. Within five minutes,
Robert was back on the terrace in clean clothes and
fresh boots.

It was a week before Argyll turned up, just to
give Craanford time to watch and see that the Duke was
settled. As he approached Boscombe Manor, Robert
was informed by one of the children.

‘Lady Verity? It would appear your wayward son
has finally arrived.’ Robert told her as she languidly
fanned herself on the terrace.

The week had been easy for the four of them.
Robert was more relaxed and surprisingly so was
Elizabeth. She spent a lot of time with the gaggle of
children that lived on the Manor as well as reading,
riding and walking. Robert had had the horses sent from
London, as he didn’t keep a constant stable at this
estate.

He went in the house to see Mrs. Simmons
about a room for Argyll and stumbled across Elizabeth,
reading in the hall. ‘Why are you sitting inside on a
glorious day like this?’ he asked impertinently.

‘Because its a little too warm outside for me.’
She smiled sweetly at him and as he turned away, he
moaned as he had his first erection since the night at
the opera.

‘Damn!’ he said under his breath as he went to
the kitchens. He saw Mrs. Simmons quickly and she
bustled upstairs with the housemaids to get a room
ready. Robert squeezed his penis very hard to try and
get it to go down and eventually it did, but only as he
heard the carriage pulling up outside.

He got to the door at the same time as Mrs.
Simmons and shooed her back to her task. He opened
the door as Argyll stepped out of the coach.

Argyll said cheerfully. ‘Is there brandy?’
‘Yes. But only after you have tea with your
mother!’ Robert replied and was laughing and slapping
Argyll on the back. ‘Damned if I haven’t missed you.
How was the sport at Goring?’
‘The same as always, the coveys were
overflowing, so I did some shooting, but that’s about
all.’
Argyll saw Elizabeth and bowed formally,
greeting her correctly. ‘Good afternoon, Lady Elizabeth.’
Elizabeth gracefully inclined her head and said
‘Good afternoon, Your Grace,’ and promptly turned the
page in her book and started to read again.
Argyll raised an eyebrow at Robert. ‘How’s it
been?’ he asked softly as they turned for the garden.
‘Fairly quiet. Elizabeth’s only had two
nightmares.’ He said as they arrived on the terrace. ‘And
Sarah is out walking with little Amelia.’
‘Johnny!’ Lady Verity said, all formality forgotten
in her haste to get up and give him a crushing hug. ‘It’s
so good to see you.’
‘Thank you, Mother. It’s good to finally be here.’
‘When did he arrive?’ Robert asked softly.
‘The day you arrived here. I gave him a few wild
goose chases, I think.’ He laughed. ‘I told him you could
be in Leamington, so he could be halfway up the
country by now!’
‘Well, he won’t be able to approach here, not
without the children seeing him. I’ve got the estate
workers clearing the ditches on every approach, so we’ll
know if he comes.’
‘Unless he comes at night!’ Argyll muttered.
Argyll ended up with a small room at the back,
which was fine by him, his valet was installed in the
servant’s quarters along with all the others.
Robert’s shoulder started to ache fiercely as the
day wore on and he knew it was going to rain. After an
evening of pianoforte entertainment, which he actually
enjoyed for a change as both Sarah and Elizabeth turned
out to be fine pianists, the ladies retired and Argyll and
Robert drank, talked and played cards, as men always
do.
‘So are you going to tell me about Craanford?
Robert asked after they had consumed half a bottle of
brandy and were well into the cards.
‘I don’t know much about the family, but I know
Alexander. He was at Cambridge when I was there.’
Argyll shook his head. ‘We all liked to tup the ladies in
the town. It was a sport for most of us, and the more
you were talked about, the better you were, so the
more in demand you became!’ he said blushing coyly.
‘Don’t tell me, every one talked about you!’
Robert laughed.
‘I’m afraid so. I was third most popular of my
year!’ Argyll boasted, ‘marginally pipped by Viscount
Dean and both of us were hammered by the Earl of
Rathbone.’ He shook his head. ‘The bastard tupped
every girl in the brothel in one night. Has the stamina of
a bull!’
‘But, what about Craanford?’ Robert asked
again.
‘Craanford was bottom of the list. The ladies
wouldn’t let him touch them after the first night.’ He
shuddered dramatically. ‘Unfortunately I was in the next
room with my favourite girl and I heard the screaming.
Affronted I burst in the room, along with the chap from
the room the other side, to find her tied face down on
the bed and him whipping her with his riding crop.’
Argyll gave a cold laugh as he wiped his hand over his
mouth. ‘She was already covered in blood and I’m afraid
the other chap and I took him outside and gave the
bastard a beating.’
‘He’d do the same to Elizabeth.’ Robert
whispered and Argyll was surprised to see an expression
of pain on Robert’s face.
‘I get the feeling you wouldn’t like that.’ Argyll
said softly.
‘No I wouldn’t.’ Robert responded without
thought and then looked up abruptly. ‘I wouldn’t like it
to happen to any woman!’
‘Of course not.’ Argyll laid his cards down. ‘My
hand I think?’
Robert staggered to bed at about one o’clock in
the morning. He carelessly stripped off his clothes and
sank back into the pillows, with the sheet negligently
draped over his lower body. He started to snore almost
straight away.
Elizabeth was lying in bed looking at the ceiling.
She had been looking at this ceiling for two nights now,
as she was finding sleep elusive in the suffocating heat.
Why can’t I walk in the garden
she thought
or go naked
to bed. Why must I always have to wear a smothering
nightgown?
And she was so angry about the unfairness
of life; she clambered out of bed, stripped her
nightgown over her head, pushed open the French door
and stood on the balcony in the cool breeze. She could
see the lightening flickering in the distance and with the
wind in her face she knew a storm was coming. A part of
her was scandalized that she would act so brazenly, but
she really didn’t care right at that moment. The cool
breeze was blissful on her sticky skin. She stretched
every muscle as if she was just waking up and
pirouetted like a ballerina. She heard a distinct shout
and flew back into her room to rescue her nightgown,
forcing it over her body she went back out onto the
balcony and listened carefully, but all she heard was the
rumble of thunder in the distance.
To call it a balcony was probably wrong; it was
more like an upper terrace that ran along the wing of
the house and she went towards the front of the house.
She could hear moaning and was surprised when it was
coming from Robert’s room. She stood outside the
French door and listened to him groaning and moaning.
At first she wondered if he was tupping one of the
house maids, but then he shouted again. ‘No! I can’t
leave!’ and then nothing and then another shouted
‘NO!’ Elizabeth silently pushed the doors open and
stepped into the room. She could see Robert tangled in
his sheet, thrashing from side to side. There was a flash
of lightening followed by a rumble of thunder. Elizabeth
saw the lamp in the flash and went to the nightstand,
struck the flint in the tinderbox and lit the lamp.
Suddenly Robert was bathed in soft light and she took a
deep breath when she saw the indentation in his
shoulder. The thunder rumbled louder. ‘The barrage is
starting!’ he shouted and then he screamed.
Elizabeth didn’t quite know what to do, so she
called his name. ‘Robert, wake up. You’re dreaming.’
She said and gently shook his shoulder. ‘Robert!’ she
shook him harder and suddenly he was awake, sitting
bolt upright, his face filled with terror and looking at her
like she was a ghost.
‘You were dreaming.’ She said softly. ‘Are you
alright now?’ she asked and gently stroked the hair off
his forehead as another actinic flash of lightening
brightened the room. The thunder rumbled even louder
as the storm approached. Instinctively Robert reached
for her and clutched her in his arms, pulling her astride
his lap and burying his face in her bosom. At first
Elizabeth was shocked and she cringed, but she realised
there was no sexual intent; Robert was like a child,
afraid of the storm, both in his dreams and outside the
window. She wrapped her arms about his shoulders,
stroked his head and rocked him, as if he was a child,
murmuring as a mother would. She felt her breasts ache
with the need to succour. The rain hammered on the
roof, the lightening continued to flash and the thunder
crashed over head, as if the heavens were going to fall
on them. She felt his body relaxing and soon his arms
fell to the bed as he returned to slumber. She carefully
manoeuvred his heavy upper body back onto the
mattress, and climbed slowly off the bed. She stood
looking down on his calm face and she was amazed. It
made her heart ache to realise that he’d held her in his
arms and buried his face in her breast because he was
afraid.
Maybe Lady Verity is right and we can cure each
other.
She thought as she idly stroked her fingers over
the indentation in his shoulder. She knew looking at it,
that it was a gunshot wound, probably a musket, rather
than a pistol. She jumped as she realised what she was
doing and she scurried out onto the balcony, pulling the
door to and running back to her own room.
Once back in her room, she poured a little water
into the basin and using a flannel, she wiped the sweat
off her body. Then instead of replacing her nightdress,
she climbed under the sheet and like Robert, she slept
in the nude and it didn’t take her long to nod off.