The Duke and The Governess (31 page)

The gossip started innocently enough, as usual, by the men. Gentlemen that had attended the pugilism competition had discovered that it was over the honour of a Lady and amongst themselves had discu
ssed the likely candidate. N
ames
were
bantered back and forth all through the bout. The Duchess of Richmond’s Tea Party was dominated by talk of who the Duke had compromised and why the Earl should feel bound to defend her.

One speculated that it may be the Earl’s sister-in-law and the gossip about Jessica and David Carruthers was remembered and talked about. It was argued that you couldn’t compromise a widow in the same way and maybe the Earl and the Duke were interested in the same woman.

The n
ame of Lady Wilhelmina Bantock was spoken many times
, but as neither peer had been seen in her company, her name was dropped with a shiver of compassion
, even though she was the richest debutante
.
Some argued that she was the one, because Warwick was an astute businessman and wouldn’t turn down her substantial dowry. Her dowry was discussed at length and there wasn’t a man in London that didn’t know the details, but they all shied like horses at a tall fence over actually engaging the
dowdy
, myopic heiress.

The gentlemen returned to their homes and discussed it over dinner with their wives and friends and soon all of London was speculating.

By sundown the book at White’s had run out of pages as the bets flowed in over who the Duke had compromised. The wager would be decided when the Duke announced an engagement or produced a new Duchess. Nearly every debutante’s name was listed at White’s.

Edward had taken his first outing in the month since the stabbing. Lord Watson ha
d invited him to dinner with the Duke’s
sister Verity and then on to White’s for some relaxation. Edward had told them all about the fight and Verity was shocked.

‘Do you know who he compromised?’ Verity asked as Lord Watson was distracted by the butler.

Edward looked at her with a long suffering expression. ‘Jessica Gordon.’ He said softly. ‘Who else would he make such a fuss about?’

‘Then if you’re going to White’s will you place a wager in the book for me with her name against it?’ She smiled happily at
the thought that her brother had finally sought out the elusive Miss Gordon.

‘I shall have to make it in the name of Lady Carruthers,’ he explained. ‘She ha
sn’t been Miss Gordon for
four years.’ The subject was dropped after that, as Lord Watson didn’t like gossip at his table, it upset his digestion. Verity slipped Edward twenty guineas before they left for the club.

Edward was very flush, he’d made over a thousand guineas with his own book that afternoon and had actually found it quite satisfying to watch other
s
speculate on the outcome of a bout, instead of being the specul
ator. Maybe he’d found his voca
tion at last.

When they arrived at White’s, Lord Watson sauntered into the main room and into the storm of speculation. Edward asked the steward if he could see the betting ante and went into the betting room to view the odds. He was astonished that Jessica Gordon’s name was at the bottom of the list. He snorted as he stifled his laughter. Lady
Wilhelmina
Bantock
was standing at 5-2 evens favourite alongside Lady Eleanor Greyston, as the speculatio
n was rife that she
’d
had a fling
with the Duke
at the Malvern’s house party. Lady Christina Pritchard was at 3-1 and she was swiftly followed by every debutante and widow in London.
Lady
Jessica
Carruthers
was languishing in the lower odds
, in between the aged Dowager Duchess of Albany, Helen Cranston and the equally ancient Dowager Countess of Fyfe, Isabelle Armstrong
. Edward was delighted to see that her odds were
200-1 and his lightening fast brain worked out that if he laid his thousand guineas down, he would stand to recoup all his losses.

He picked up the quill and in very small writing he placed his thousand guineas at 200-1 for Lady Jessica Carruthers. Underneath it he laid the twenty guineas for Verity on the same name. Under that in large flowery writing he laid five guineas on Lady Wilhelmina Bantock. He smiled at the steward and sauntered away
, trying not to laugh like a demon as his thousand guineas could well be two hundred thousand by the following night.

Neither the Earl or
the Duke put in an appearance at any of the gentlemen’s clubs that night. It was understood that both of them were nursing their injuries
.

~*~*~*~

‘Christ!’ the Duke of Norfolk said as John Farrington appeared in the Lord’s Corridor on his way into the Chamber. ‘Did Dean do that to your face?’

‘He did!’ The Duke of Warwick couldn’t see out of his left eye and the swelling on his right cheek was almost closing his right. The swelling of his lips had been aggravated by his amorous attentions to Jessica Carruthers the previous evening. ‘I don’t suppose he looks much better.’

‘You should be at home with a face like that.’ Norfolk said seriously. ‘Whatever made you come to the House today?’

‘I need to see the Archbishop.’ John said softly.

‘You asked her!’ Norfolk said gleefully. ‘And I take it she said yes?’

‘She did and I want a special license so we can get married as soon as possible, before she changes her mind.’ He had a vision of Jessica the previous evening, spread-eagled amongst the silk of her gowns, sated, happy and relaxed. The most relaxed he’d ever seen her. Just the thought of her like that made his blood sing with desire and a certain part of his anatomy woke up.
I’m going to have to keep her in bed for at least a week once we’re married.
He thought and jerked back to reality as Norfolk cleared his throat.

‘Judging by the expression on your face, it was a pleasure to ask her.’ Norfolk said with a laugh.

‘It was worth the pain, just to see her in a glorious rage and watch that rage turn to passion.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘I’m one lucky man.’

‘You’ve waited long enough, Johnny. You have my congratulations and my best wishes.’

‘Thank you, Robbie.’
They shook hands and then the John Farrington walked
to the stairs and climbed to the upper chambers to seek out the Archbishop.
He knocked firmly on the door and opened it without waiting. He looked at the cleric and made his request concisely.

‘You want a special license?’ the Archbishop of Canterbury blurted in shock as he stared at the Duke in astonishment. ‘Not the sort of thing a Duke normally asks for. Will I be attending to an early christening?’

‘No, just a wedding service, preferably today.’
The Duke replied cautiously.

‘Can’t you bloody peers wait and have the banns read like anybody else?’ the Archbishop demanded
, shaking his head. ‘It’s becoming too easy for you peers to do this. The less fortunate in this world have to wait!’ but for all his grumbling, the Archbishop still took out his quill and wrote out the dispensation. ‘You do know that the betting at White’s is rife.’ He flicked the end of his quill at the clerk sat in the corner. ‘He’s been sat here all day waiting to see if you’d turn up.’

The Duke speared the unfortunate clerk with a piercing gaze. The clerk bobbed his head and looked at the floor again.

‘So who’s name shall I put on this form?’ The Archbishop asked and the clerk got to his feet and came to the table. The Duke sighed deeply as he knew there was no stopping it once he revealed her name.

‘Lady Jessica Carruthers.’ He said slowly and clearly. He looked sharply at the clerk ‘Have you got that?’

‘I ‘ave, Your Grace.’ He said with a smile and left with alacrity.

‘Somebody will make a large amount of money off this.’ The Archbishop said under his breath.

‘And I’ll wager it won’t be White’s today.’ The Duke replied as a picture of Edward rubbing his hands together in glee flashed across his mind. ‘How much do I owe you for this?’

‘Two hundred guineas.’ The Archbishop smiled at him as the Duke inhaled sharply. ‘I intend to make it very expensive for you peers to just up and marry at the drop of a hat. The orphans of London will be very grateful.’

‘Is that what you do with the money, then?’ the Duke asked. He’d always believed the bishops pocketed the money
for their own use.

‘Of course it is!’ the Archbishop said forcefully and flicked the permission across his desk. ‘Here, Your Grace. Go and make an honest woman of her!’

The Duke left the office quickly and the Duke of Norfolk was waiting
at the bottom of the stairs. He smiled and held his hand out again.

The Duke of Warwick frowned. ‘I’ve already shaken you
r
hand this morning.’ He said quizzically. ‘Why would I do it again?’

‘Because you have just made me a very rich man.’ Norfolk said happily.

‘How?’ Warwick asked carefully.

‘I placed a bet in the book at White’s last evening. They had Lady Wilhelmina Bantock and Lady Eleanor Greyston at evens of 5-2,’ he explained cheerfully. ‘But I put a hundred guineas on Lady Jessica  Carruthers at 200-1
!’ he finished and laughed heartily.

Warwick smiled and frowned at the same time. ‘I can see White’s book being empty by tomorrow.’ he muttered.

‘Where and when will you wed the Lady concerned?’ Norfolk asked in a fairly loud voice.

‘This afternoon at Grosvenor Chapel.’ Warwick said and flashed a brittle smile at his friend, nodded his head and left the House as quickly as his legs would carry him.

When he arrived home, Edward was waiting in his study. ‘Good morning, Edward. I trust  you had a profitable day yesterday?’
he asked as he poured a stiff brandy.

‘Indeed.’ Edward replied with a bright smile, the like of which John had never seen on his brother-in-laws face
before. ‘Did you go to get a spe
cial license?
’

‘I did.’ John said unsettled by Edward’s happy temperament.

‘Are you going to tell me her name, now?’

‘If I must.’ John said as he slumped in his chair behind the desk, sipped the brandy and regarded Edward over the rim of the glass. ‘You seem very happy. Any particular reason?’

‘I’ll let you know when you tell me her name. I’ve either lost a thousand guineas or I’m am excessively rich man!’ He smiled at John again, ‘So spill!’ he demanded jovially.

John sigh
ed deeply. ‘Lady Jessica Carruthers.’ He said slowly, enunciating each syllable.

Edward let out a howl of delight and slapped his hands on his thighs. ‘Thank you!’ he gasped. ‘Thankyouthankyouthankyou!’ he bellowed in joy so extreme John thought he might suffer a heart seizure. He stood and poured a brandy for him and patted him on the shoulder. Edward managed a sip of the spirit before he started coughing and laughing again.

While John waited for Edward to calm, he penned a short letter to Jessica, informing her where and when they would be married and asked her to send back if these arrangements weren’t acceptable. He sanded the missive, folded it, waxed it and pressed his signet ring into the wax to seal it.
I’ll have to arrange for Jessica to have her own seal
he thought as he stared at the unclear coat of arms. He looked
at the shield over the fireplace and wondered how many more Dukes there would be before the title died out or was surrendered to the crown.
I’ll have to see the solicitor about the division of the estate.
He debated.
My son will have the title, but my personal wealth will go to Jessica.

‘Is she pregnant?’

Edward’s voice cut through his reverie and John snapped his eyes to his wayward brother-in-law. ‘Why do you ask?’ he asked as he returned his attention to the letter and wrote the direction on the front.

‘I’m just curious, that’s all.’ Edward murmured. ‘You suddenly up and marry a Governess
without so much as a bye or leave. I didn’t even think you were interested in marriage again, although Verity didn’t seem surprised when I dined with her last evening.’

‘Verity?’ John asked shocked. ‘Why were you dining with Verity?’

‘Because Lord Watson invited me.’ He smiled again, ‘but Verity will be happy with the four thousand guineas she’s made today!’

‘Four thousand?’ John blurted, ‘is that how much she’s won on that stupid bet?’

‘She, like me, guessed correctly. I stand to collect two hundred thousand guineas from your little marital conflagration.’ Edward laughed again. ‘I can pay off my debts, recover my ancestral home and still have enough money left to start my own betting service.’

‘I’m happy to be of service.’ John muttered under his breath. He stood and opened the door. ‘Butcher!’ he yelled and the butler arrived quickly. ‘Send one of the footmen with this and tell him to wait for her reply.’ He handed the letter over.