The Theft of a Dukedom Page 4

  ‘What happened?’ Charles asked just as softly.

  ‘By the time I was awake enough to realize where I was, the poor sod was almost blue in the face from my hand around his throat!’

  ‘I did the same thing to my father.’ Charles admitted softly. ‘I think he stroked my head, but all I saw was a french soldier until he collapsed onto the settee and I realized I was in the drawing room.’ He shook his head. ‘Who would have thought that going to war would have such a detrimental effect on our lives? I assumed it would be glorious, did you?’

  ‘I’m afraid I did. My brother tried to warn me about it, but I wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘Wasn’t he in the navy?’

  ‘Yes. He sold his commission after Trafalgar. He sat one night and tried to describe the bloodshed, but I wasn’t really listening.’

  At that moment the Duke sauntered out onto the terrace. Charles struggled to get to his feet and Thomas shook his head. ‘Stay seated, son. You know I don’t stand on ceremony.’ He turned to Richard and extended his hand. ‘You must be Richard Dunsmore.’

  ‘I am, Your Grace.’ Richard responded, jumping to his feet. He shook the proffered hand firmly.

  ‘How is Rutland? I haven’t seen him in London for a few years?’

  ‘My father is not well, Your Grace. Much of the official business has already landed on my eldest brother’s shoulders, so the transition will be swift when my father dies.’ He tried to sound cold and heartless, but he couldn’t hide the sorrow in his eyes.

  ‘Yes, the transition of power is swift, but warn your brother it isn’t painless. You not only have to grieve for the lost parent, but also have to pick up the pieces of your life and adjust to the responsibilities of the Earldom.’ Charles had looked up at his father in surprise, as they resumed their seats. ‘Just taking your seat in the House can be traumatic.’

  ‘Is that what happened to you?’ Charles asked with sudden compassion for his rich and powerful father.

  ‘Yes. My father died when I was twenty four. Just your age, Charles. My mother stood beside me at the graveside and asked me what was going to happen and I felt the weight of a Dukedom land on my very young and inexperienced shoulders.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I’d like to believe that I’ve managed it all quite well since that cold morning, but everyone makes mistakes.’

  ‘What mistake was that, father?’ Charles asked softly.

  ‘Robin.’ The Duke answered. ‘Indulging Robin was my greatest mistake.’

  Charles couldn’t believe that his father had chosen this moment to talk about his wayward brother. ‘He was always a little wild.’ He tried to excuse.

  ‘When he was a small boy his wildness was treated as precociousness and excused by his mother, who spoiled him terribly. She was so glad that he survived childbirth that she foisted too much love on him.’ He said distantly. ‘When he was a teenager, I excused his behaviour as normal for a ducal heir exploring his world. After all I’ve been in his position, having been pursued by women relentlessly for my fortune and title, played cards and drank to excess, just so that I could find my way in a confusing world.’ He looked at Charles. ‘The hardest thing in the world to do is say no. No to the most beautiful woman, no to the temptation of a high wager and no to another bottle of claret. Wisdom or caution was something that Robin never learned. Too many times I rescued him from disaster. This last escapade nearly cost him his life,’ he shook his head. ‘He had been tupping the Duchess of Albany and the Duke found out about it and challenged him. Like an idiot he accepted the challenge and dutifully turned up in Hyde Park. He shot the Duke between the eyes, before Albany even had time to lift his pistol!’ Both Charles and Richard gasped at the blatant disregard to the rules of duelling. ‘Of course, he didn’t know I was watching from the trees and I saw him stand over the body and laugh like a hyena.’ He looked up at Charles. ‘I actually wondered if he was mad.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I had never considered insanity as a reason for his wildness, not until that morning. Anyway, he was seen leaving the park by a Runner. Being Robin, of course, he came straight to me for assistance, but what assistance could I give him? He had killed a Duke in an illegal duel, not even I could save him from the gallows! I told him to leave the country and not return.’

  Charles looked at the horror in his father’s eyes and wondered exactly what that discussion had been like. He knew what his brother was like if he was refused anything and on more than one occasion had to intervene before he beat somebody to death at Eton. ‘It must have been a difficult decision.’ Charles muttered helplessly.

  ‘Not the decision. That wasn’t hard. It was the execution that took courage. There is nothing more devastating than looking your first born son in the eye and telling him never to come to your house again. Never to use the title Marquis again and tell him there would not be any more money and he had to make his own way in the world.’ Thomas sobbed suddenly and Charles was astounded to see tears fall from his father’s eyes. ‘He raged and threatened so much that Kitty came to see what the shouting was about. He turned on her with such vitriol that she ran from the room crying and that was when I hit him.’ Thomas admitted softly. ‘I could put up with many things, but not how he spoke to Kitty, sweet gentle Kitty who had always been there for him, to excuse him and forgive him.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I punched him in the face so hard, that I broke his nose. I genuinely thought he would kill me after that, he was so enraged, but he turned on his heel and stormed from the house.’ Thomas slipped a piece of vellum from his waistcoat pocket and handed it over to Charles.

  Charles accepted it and looked evenly at his father before he opened the note. It had the Royal Coat of Arms on the top and he started to read in dread.

  Colonel Sidney Bostwick, Royal Militia, Kingston, Jamaica.

  Dear Thomas,

  I know you will be devastated by this news and I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but Robin is dead.

  He arrived here on the 7th of March, was given all respect of his position and ensconced at the Governor’s residence. I received your letter a week later, but it was already too late for Robin. As usual he couldn’t keep out of the gambling establishments and lost heavily in that first week, but unfortunately he was accused of cheating and unlike in England, duelling is not illegal here. There was no grass for breakfast, the parties concerned went out into the square and did the deed there and then. But unfortunately for Robin, he picked a fight with the wrong man and Clark Ravenswood blew the back of his head off!

  I have interred his body in a local cemetery with all due ceremony and will have a headstone set next year, if that is what you would like.

  I can’t tell you how sorry I am.

  Your devastated friend,

  Sidney Bostwick, 2ndEarl of Havant

  Charles looked up at his father’s face. ‘So it would appear that he bit off more than he could chew, this time.’ He sighed. ‘Have you told Kitty yet?’

  ‘No. She’s just gone to the dressmaker with Agatha. I’ll tell her when she gets back.’ Thomas stared at the table. ‘If I can find the courage.’

  Charles leaned forward and placed his hand on his father’s arm. ‘Father?’ Thomas looked up at his only son. ‘It would have happened here eventually. Robin was getting more and more uncontrollable even before I left for the Peninsular. With hindsight, maybe he should have gone to war, he would have found Spain a balm for his tormented soul.’

  ‘Instead you went out there with stars in your eyes and came home with them full of horror.’ He shook his head. ‘I just thought you should know. You are now without question the Marquis and a ducal heir. Once the word of Robin’s demise circulates, the women will throw themselves at your title. Be more like Kitty, than Robin, and try to keep them at a distance.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘I don’t advocate a celibate life, but be cautious. I don’t want to have to pay out any more paternity payments. Robin has five illegitimate children scattered about as it is.’

  ‘I’ll promise you this
, father.’ He laughed. ‘If I am stupid enough to make an ingénue pregnant, I’ll marry her and save your pocket!’

  ‘My advice would be to stay away from the young debutants,’ Richard offered, ‘if I gained any knowledge of life in Spain that was the first lesson! Innocent young ladies are only approached when you want a wife!’ All three men laughed heartily, banishing the sombre mood at the table.

  ‘Well, father. Did you ask her?’ Charles enquired with raised eyebrows.

  ‘I did. And she has accepted my proposal. So there will definitely be one wedding this year.’

  ‘And Kitty will have a new mother.’

  ‘I don’t think Kitty needs a mother and she certainly won’t need one if she manages to find a husband before the season ends.’

  ‘She won’t.’ Charles said with conviction. ‘Ponsonby has been the forerunner and last night he blew it!’

  ‘Yes, he did rather do the most stupid thing.’ Thomas agreed. ‘I did warn him not to manhandle her, but it seems he didn’t listen.’

  ‘I don’t understand?’ Richard asked softly.

  ‘Ponsonby is one of the beau’s vying for Kitty’s hand this season. He made the mistake of grabbing her arm and trying to frogmarch her away from an unsettling incident last night.’ Charles said calmly, although Richard could see he was affronted to witness his sister being handled by a man.

  ‘You didn’t see the marks on her arm when he released it. It was no gentle persuasion and that’s why Kitty dug her heels in and wouldn’t be moved.’ Thomas explained.

  ‘Is it true about the devilled eggs?’ Charles asked softly.

  ‘Yes. It seems to me every time Kitty is in a ballroom some clumsy oaf spills his food or drink on her. That time she was wearing a beautiful claret coloured silk gown and she had to spend the evening with cream splodges all over it. Last night she wore a cream gown and ended up with claret on it.’ Thomas shook his head.

  ‘Who spilled the eggs?’ Charles asked even more sibilantly and Richard looked sharply at him. He’d heard that cold whisper before, just before Charles had lurched out of a foxhole and killed a French soldier that was trying to rape a local Spanish girl. He vividly remembered the spray of blood as Charles drew his knife across the Frenchman’s throat and the flurry of skirts as the girl tumbled into the foxhole. When the Frenchman had stopped gurgling, Charles had hefted him on his shoulder and walked away in the dark to deposit the body away from their lines. The girl turned out to be about thirteen years old and she was petrified that Richard and Charles would do the same. She followed Charles like a puppy for a month, before one of the ordinary soldiers turned her head with an offer of money. The last time he’d seen her had been at Cuidad Rodrigo, when she was heavily pregnant.

  ‘The Earl of Rathbone. Luckily his wife was there and she was beside herself with embarrassment for Kitty. As I said to her last night, it was a good job it wasn’t something hot.’ Both young men flexed their back and shoulder muscles in a reflex action. ‘Still, how long will you be with us?’ Thomas enquired.

  ‘Probably a couple of weeks, maybe a little longer.’ Richard said evenly.

  ‘Fine. Did you bring your own valet?’

  Richard nodded. ‘It seemed prudent.’

  ‘Good. Havers is the best, so he’ll sort it all out for you.’

  Kitty wasn’t going to make lunch. Even at two o’clock she was still standing on the stool with the modiste fitting her fourth gown of the morning.

  ‘Ow!’ Kitty exploded again as the modiste inadvertently stabbed her with a pin. ‘Be more careful!’

  Agatha Stafford tried to distract her yet again. ‘So thebeau mondedidn’t live up to your expectations again!’

  ‘No aunt, as you can see by the huge claret stain on my gown!’ she said pointing at the offending item.

  ‘Your father says Derek Ponsonby lost his head and tried to manhandle you to the ladies room?’

  ‘He did too!’ Kitty replied indignantly. ‘I actually asked him who he thought he was!’

  ‘You should have gone out for your first season two years ago.’ Agatha muttered. She was fifty two, but didn’t look a day over forty. She had exquisite skin, her hair didn’t have a single grey strand and her eyes were the clearest blue. She sat in silken splendour and watched her favourite modiste try to fit a gown to a fidgeting twenty year old.

  ‘No aunt. And you know why I didn’t. I couldn’t possibly go out into the town and sample thehaute ton with my brother possibly dying in Spain. I just couldn’t do it.’

  ‘So you waited until Robin brought so much disgrace upon us that your father banished him abroad and recalled Charles from Spain.’

  ‘Yes. After he was recalled I knew he wouldn’t get killed, so I could then feel happier at having my coming out season.’

  Agatha sighed. She had told Thomas at the time if he indulged her, it would be very difficult to find her a good match if she was over twenty. Most men were looking for the youngest wife, so that they could mould them into the wife they wanted, they knew that the older a girl was, the more likely she would be a handful and Kitty was already a handful. But instinctively Agatha knew it wasn’t only that. Something had happened when she was younger. Something with Robin. It had made Kitty standoffish and aloof at times, even with her family.

  ‘Will you be going to the Henderson ball tonight?’ Agatha asked changing the subject.

  ‘There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to, because I don’t want any more beverages or food dropped down my clothes. But I must admit to being intrigued by Charles’s friend.’

  ‘You’d marry a common soldier!’ Agatha spluttered.

  ‘There’s nothing common about Richard Dunsmore. His father is the Earl of Rutland!’ She turned abruptly and was stabbed again as she speared Agatha with a very penetrating stare. ‘Is my father going to marry the Duchess?’

  Agatha eyed the modiste, who smiled softly. ‘Everything talked about in my fashion house is a secret, My Lady.’ She murmured around the row of pins in her teeth.

  ‘Yes. He asked her last night and she has agreed.’

  ‘Do you think Father will force her to live with us, or do you think he will go there?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if they spend their time jumping from one to the other. After all Edward Bertrand is the Duke of Wentworth and will take possession of his house when he reaches his majority.’

  ‘But that’s a few years away yet, isn’t it?’ Kitty asked.

  ‘Yes. The Duke of Wentworth is only eleven.’

  ‘So, his majority is still ten years away, but I’ll bet you a pound to a penny that he becomes a problem for Daddy before then!’

  ‘Let’s hope your father has more success than he did with Robin.’ Agatha muttered under her breath.

  The modiste finished her work and Kitty jumped off the stool and rushed into the changing room to replace her outer clothing.

  When they got home Havers was in the hall, as usual. ‘Good afternoon, Lady Agatha, Lady Amelia.’ He said formally. ‘His grace has been waiting for you to come home. He would like to see you both in his study.’

  Kitty was surprised. She had only ever been called to the study with her brothers for punishment. And the day he told us mother had died!She recalled it so well, the way he’d looked at them as he tried to explain that she was too weak to recover from the strain and her heart had stopped. She remembered the tears falling down her father’s face and Robin, stoic and without a tear, but Charles turned to her and engulfed her as she sobbed for the loss.

  ‘Kitty, I don’t want you to panic.’ Agatha said softly. ‘It’s probably Ponsonby making an offer.’

  Kitty realised she was almost running and deliberately slowed her pace. ‘Yes, Aunt, I’m sure you’re right.’ She murmured, but that didn’t help the pounding of her heart. As she reached the study door, she practically pounded on the door and waited for the ‘Come In,’ from her father.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Kitty blurted before her
father could even stand up to greet them.

  ‘Kitty, my love, sit down.’ He said and guided her to a chair.

  ‘What’s happened to Charles?’ she almost demanded.

  ‘Nothing. Charles is snoozing on the terrace with Richard.’ Thomas sighed as he leant against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. He watched his sister take the other chair and arrange her skirts, before she looked up at him expectantly.

  ‘I’ve had a letter from Jamaica.’ He said softly.

  ‘From Colonel Bostwick?’ Agatha asked and Kitty couldn’t miss the flush in her cheeks.

  ‘Yes, from Sidney Bostwick. He wrote to inform me of Robin’s death.’ He said quietly.

  ‘What?’ Burst from Agatha. ‘Robin’s dead?’ Thomas reached behind him for the missive and handed it to Agatha to read. ‘He was killed in a duel with somebody who was a better shot than him.’ He turned his attention to Kitty and was surprised to see a cold expression on her face. ‘Are you all right, Kitty?’

  ‘Yes. I’m fine.’

  ‘Don’t be afraid to let your feelings out. We’re all family here.’ Thomas said with compassion.

  ‘I’ll tell you my feelings,’ she said vitriolically. ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish!’ and she jumped out of her chair and ran out of the study.

  ‘What’s that all about?’ Thomas asked. ‘I know she was distant from Robin, but I didn’t know she felt like that.’

  ‘Perhaps you should ask Charles about it. I know there was no love lost between them, but I didn’t realise it was that serious.’

  Thomas sighed. ‘It hardly matters any more.’

  Chapter 4

  Dinner was formal and the sumptuous repast set before him, made Richard wonder why he’d ever gone to war. It had been a very long time since he’d attended a formal dinner and to do so at a ducal residence was to live in the lap of luxury. From the army of silent footmen, a solid gold dinner service, finest bone china, diamond cut crystal glasses to the best wine he’d ever tasted. He sat and surreptitiously watched Lady Amelia eat like a bird, only taking small nibbles from any of the seven courses and delicately sipping the small amount of wine, never finishing what was either on her plate or in her glass.