Scandal at Vauxhall (Pleasure Garden Follies) (9 page)

“That said, I
think everyone present would love to know how your lovely duchess is doing.
Pray tell, why hasn’t she yet graced us with her presence?”

The duke
sneered, only regaining his composure when the dowager countess approached Nathaniel
from behind and whispered, “What in the devil are you doing?”

“Do sit down, Mother.
I am only asking what the entire is room is dying to know.”

“My wife is
unwell and has decided to rest in the country for a bit.”

And there it
was. The duchess was surely in confinement, and to keep from further
embarrassing himself, he had rushed her off to the country.
How typical.

“Of course she
did,” Nathaniel muttered before setting his glass down. “Well, I wish everyone
a good evening. I am exhausted and would like to retire before my sensibility
escapes me.”

Eloise threw
herself into his path, blocking his exit once again. “Surely, My Lord, I could
entice you with some cheery music.”

“I am sorry,
Eloise, but I would much rather retire for the evening. Perhaps another time.”

On cue, Avonlea
retrieved the eager, husband-hunting Miss Morton from his sight. A heavy knock
on the front door drew everyone’s attention from the parlor. A panicked voice
pleaded and begged for entry. Approaching the foyer, his butler barely managed
to keep the visitor put.

“What seems to
be the issue?”

“The Duke of
Downsbury…where is he? I have urgent news!”

“What news?” the
duke asked, joining the party in the foyer.

“Her Grace’s
carriage. There was an accident. Her body has been washed away.”

Gasps could be
heard from the other room.
Well now, this
evening has certainly gotten more interesting.
If he heard right, the duke
only snorted, “You are positive her remains could not be found and that she has
indeed died?”

The messenger
nodded furiously.

“Run along now.
Thank you for the message.”

Nathaniel’s butler
closed the door behind the boy. The
marquess
shook
his head when the duke ordered everyone into the other room and requested more
drinks. The man clearly had no heart, simply dismissing the fact that his wife
had died. No grief. No questions asked.
What
kind of man went on with life without a moment of introspection?

Nathaniel could
not believe he had just walked on by and did not let the loss of his wife move
him one bit. He marched back into the parlor and stood in the entryway. “That’s
it? That is all you are going to say on your wife’s death? Did you slip on your
way here and lose half your wits? Your wife is dead, man. Go home and at least
put a half decent effort into fooling the public that you are grieving!”

“Why on earth
would I do that? Her Ladyship and I have much to discuss.” And it was the
sinister smile that the duke gave Nathaniel’s sister that threw him over the
edge for the final time.

“You had best
set aside any notion of making her your next duchess. I will not allow it!”

“And you are in
no position to make demands. The girl isn’t your charge. And I am quite sure
your mother will have no objections to the match, will you, Eleanor?”

His mother
smiled and nodded to the duke, and his sister swooned right into the arms of
Avonlea. This night had gone from terrible to a living, breathing nightmare.

I’ll
kill him if it’s the last thing I do!

Nathaniel’s
sister bounded down from the terrace steps and threw herself into his arms.
Tears stained her face, and she trembled beneath his embrace. “Nathaniel, you
cannot allow Mother to marry me off to that unfeeling, cold toad! His poor
wife! And he could not even be bothered to leave and verify it was true.”

“I know,
darling. I shall see what I can do to prevent it from going any further. Now
run along inside and do try to stay out of sight. The less Mama and Downsbury
see you, the less distraction you will pose.”

Anger boiled to
a fevered pitch, forever sealing Downsbury’s fate. Nathaniel would call him out
just as soon as his guests had departed. And his mother had also secured a
permanent holiday to the continent.

Nathaniel
struggled to understand what the duke was up to. Before the cad would be
permitted to marry again, he would have to seek an annulment, and he most
certainly could not do that overnight.

Then there was
the matter of Isabel’s country estate. Downsbury would not stop until he had it,
and from the news his solicitor delivered yesterday, Downsbury was indeed
heavily in debt. Perhaps that is why he had announced inconspicuously in the
parlor his intention for Emily’s hand in marriage.

Her dowry was
substantial and more than enough to lure any greedy man. The only unfortunate
thing was that she was an impertinent brat, and for many reasons he had been
grateful that she had not been married off as soon as some of the other young
ladies from the academy she attended.

He had to find a
way to end this lunacy.
But how?
The
only way out for Downsbury was a duel or debtor’s prison. The thought of the duke
being locked away at
Newgate
was enticing, though Nathaniel
doubted he would end up there. As sneaky as the bastard was, he would probably
flee the country if he got wind of such a deal.

But then again,
maybe that was the angle the duke operated on. Take what he could from Isabel,
get his marriage annulled, marry his sister, and then flee the country. Once
the cad was gone and out of sight, though, what would he do with Emily? Leave her
discarded in the streets of Venice or Paris?
Good Lord!
His imagination ran wilder with each passing moment.

A
duel it is.

The next
morning, Nathaniel fought a yawn as the excitement from the night before left
him restless and pacing the grounds until now. The servants bustled about and
his mother’s scolding voice could be heard in the distance.

A sigh escaped
his lips when Avonlea approached. “Dare I ask what has her in such a foul mood this
early?”

“Could not sleep,
I see? She is perturbed by the fact that you could not be found in your
quarters this morning. She has got the
Mortons
all in
a dither as she remarked you might have gone to see
the whore
again.”

Nathaniel lost
his breath and winced at the label. He punched Avonlea in the face and grabbed
him by his lapels. “Do not ever in my presence use that word to describe the
future marchioness of this manor! Am I understood?”

“Get a grip on
yourself, man. I was only repeating what your doting mother said, you dolt!”

He released
Avonlea, brushing his jacket where hands were imprinted. “Apologies. But if I hear
Isabel referred to as that once more, I just may have to kill someone.”

His friend
chuckled at his admission, though he did not seem to think it funny. Another
yawn escaped while he stretched his tense muscles. He needed sleep, but he also
desired to gain some hold over Downsbury. “I have a proposition, Avonlea. If
you are ready for your day to start, I would like to go and make some
acquisitions. Without them, I do not think I will stand a chance in ridding
Downsbury of his ridiculous notion of marrying my sister.”

“If this is your
way of asking me for aid, you should know subtlety is not your forte. I will be
glad to assist in any manner that I may, but do you not think you are being a rather
hasty? Besides, that bratty sister of yours has just received the shock of her
life. Do you think she might start acting like a lady?”

Nathaniel
snorted. “Not in the least, but it might stop her from doing foolish things like
winning a public game of whist with Broxton.”

* * * *

Isabel jumped
out of her skin when she heard the pounding at her door.
Please don’t let it be Downsbury. I cannot deal with him right now.
She descended the stairs to find Edmonds giving entry to a gentleman.

“Your Grace,
this would be Mr. Smith. He is Lord Thompson’s solicitor.”

“A pleasure to
meet you, sir. Let us speak in the morning room. Edmonds, see that some tea is
brought in please.”

The solicitor
followed closely behind, only stopping when shown where to sit. He must have
been sent by Nathaniel. His arrival meant things were ready to move along,
though she would have much rather had Nathaniel present for this discussion.

“Your Grace, I
am so glad I had the opportunity to work on your behalf. Your late husband
would not have approved, but I am thrilled, nonetheless. Nathaniel wished to be
present, but he is otherwise occupied with a house full of unexpected guests. He
entrusted me to speak with you.”

“Go on.”

“The late Duke
of Brimley, as far as I could find and verify with his own solicitor, only owes
the deed to his ancestral country estate. I have also been advised that
considering the Duke of Downsbury is too in an abundance of debt, all of his
holdings have been acquired to pay off the remainder. It is my understanding that
a portion of any monies left over will be forwarded to an orphanage in memory
of the Duchess of Downsbury’s death.”

“Oh!” Shock of
the news made her shudder.
How could she
have died? She was with child!
Isabel shuffled to the edge of her seat,
struggling to find words of sympathy. She pressed her hands against her
burgeoning belly.

“Don’t despair, Your
Grace. From what we know, her carriage careened down a hill during some
horrible weather. The carriage ended up in a swelling river, twisted and
smashed. She would have succumbed fairly quickly to the frigid temperatures, if
she did not break her neck first.”

His last words
made her cringe. The poor dear had been forced to leave her menacing husband,
and while Isabel did not condone the duchess’ adulterous actions, she could not
bear the thought of what it must have felt like to be exiled in such a manner.

Contemplations
of her own predicament made her wonder just how safe she was in her newly
independent ways. While she had given much thought to what it would mean to
live alone in the country, how would her actions impact the life her son or
daughter would have?

Isabel did not
know what hit her when tears rolled furiously down her cheeks. She wanted
Nathaniel. She felt helpless and alone. And why on heaven’s earth was she
crying? Her emotions ran high and low, and she despised not having any control
over them.

The solicitor
stood and walked over to where she sat on the dais. “There, there, Your Grace.
Lord Thompson has assured me that all will be fine once this matter of
Downsbury is completed. He also asked I deliver this note to you.” He slid the
vellum script into her hand and bowed his head. “I must be going now, but
please feel free to send for me if you are in need of anything else. No matter
the measure, I will do what I can to assist you.”

Isabel sniffled,
keeping the tears back. “I am most grateful for your kindness, sir.”

Nodding to
Edmonds, she watched as her butler escorted the man out of the room, leaving
her alone with her thoughts, worries, and wild imagination. Nathaniel’s
solicitor had revealed some perplexing and disconcerting news about the duke’s financial
straits. She did not care if the country estate was lost to him—in the end,
Downsbury would never see an ounce of the money he needed.

Who was this
mysterious person who had acquired and paid off the debt? There were so many
questions and not enough time to pursue them. Her first order of business would
be to look into which way to travel first.

* * * *

Nathaniel and
Avonlea sat with Lord Broxton and several others in the gaming room at
Almack’s
, gambling and discussing the latest bets placed at
White’s. While Broxton’s wife meandered about, giggling and gossiping with the
other ladies, he watched the endless procession of young ladies and randy gents
dance away their evening merrily.

Then, the
shrieking of women had all the men rushing out into the main ballroom.
Gentlemen shouted, and out of the corner of his eye, Nathaniel carefully
followed the swaggering, stumbling, lean shadow that belonged to Downsbury, who
shouted obscenities at anyone blocking his path.

“Where is he?
Thompson! Show yourself, you bastard!” he bellowed.

Nathaniel
approached cautiously, nodding to the footmen who flanked him, ready to toss the
duke to the curb. “I have it, gentlemen. Please see to the needs of the ladies
who are distraught.” He addressed Downsbury. “You have found me, you drunk, now
what do you want?”

“Why did you do
it? I have had enough of your interference!” the duke sputtered.

Ah.
So he has just found out. Good. Challenge me, you fool.

Downsbury
stepped forward but tripped over the leg of chair, landing face first into the game
table. Cards scattered about and glasses shattered into a million
shards
on the floor. Avonlea and Broxton now flanked him,
pulling him to his feet.

“Honestly,
Richard, you need to stop. It is bad enough you tarnished your own reputation
with your debt, and I pity the humiliation you faced with your wife becoming
pregnant by another man, but what I will not tolerate is you pushing your bad
fortune onto my future marchioness, nor onto my sister. What I did was to
ensure your place was kept at the furthest possible distance from my family.”

The duke snorted
and pushed the men away from him. “I will not pay you a pence back. You will
never get it out of me.”

“Ah, but Your
Grace, that is where you are wrong. Your debt has been paid, and all the notes
and deeds to your various estates and businesses have already been transferred
in my name. You are penniless. The only thing saving you is the donation made
in your name to the local orphanage in memory of your wife.”

Downsbury paled
and roared, “I challenge you at first light, you worthless excuse for a peer.
Your family is ruined. And when you lose our duel, and you have breathed your
last breath, I will take your sister and her dowry. No one will find us.”

Nathaniel’s hair
rose on the back of his neck.
Why can’t I
just do him the favor now?

“First light it
is. Avonlea, see that he is tossed out.”

Nathaniel
exhaled a long and controlled breath. Isabel would kill him, and never mind
what his overbearing mother and sister would say. But Downsbury was finished
one way or another.

* * * *

Isabel wrapped
her arms around him, refusing to release him.

“Settle down,
sweeting. I will take care of the duke. All you need to do is remain calm.”

Pfft
. Stay calm. How could anyone in
their right mind stay calm?
She was with child— illegitimately
at that—and he did not know about the pregnancy. He was leaving for a duel, and
Henry’s solicitor was due to arrive with the details of her settlement.

“Nathaniel,
please,” she pleaded. “Do not do this! I will leave if I must, but I will not
let you risk your reputation in the House of Lords over his issues with my
husband’s indiscretions.”

“Isabel, it is
the least thing I could do. Besides, once this is over I will procure us a
special license, we will have a private ceremony, and live out the rest of our
days as it once had been intended.”

The
man is mad.
He departed with a swift bow, leaving
her a mess in the worst way.
How could
he?
The infernal
marquess
would stoop to a new
low and possibly kill a man. Isabel began to sway on her feet, all this foolishness,
her nerves. It was too much to take in.

“Your Grace—”

Isabel quivered
head to toe as her eyesight washed away and all her weight came crashing down
beneath her.

* * * *

“Gentlemen,
please have your seconds in place and take your positions.”

Nathaniel
inhaled before turning around. No matter how this morning ended, Isabel would
be his now and forever, not even his family could tear them apart.

Fear and
determination were the only things keeping his head afloat. About to turn, he
heard one shot go off then a second. Nathaniel barely raised his own pistol
before Avonlea stepped between the two men.