Fenella Miller - The Duke’s Reform

“Bill, we are about to receive a visitor. I shall retire to my sitting room. I don’t wish to speak to him. He is a stranger to me; no doubt he has lost his way and called in for directions.”

Whoever this was, he must have seen both Duncan and Alexander and he could have enquired directions from them. She was decidedly uneasy about this. Something was not quite right about her unexpected guest.

Ten minutes went by and then there was a rapid knock on the door. Bill appeared looking somewhat bemused. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but the young gentleman insists I give you his card. He won’t depart until you have seen it.”

Isobel examined the writing. “Good heavens! Mr Bentley—he is next in line to the title at the moment. The duke did tell me about him but I had no idea he was to visit here. Show him into the drawing-room, I suppose I must come and speak to him.” She called the butler back. “I doubt if he has eaten breakfast today, ask the kitchen to have food prepared and laid out in the small dining room.”

Small wonder he had seemed familiar. Alexander must have suggested he called in and introduce himself before returning to the city. It would be better if her pregnancy remained unnoticed. If she ran upstairs and fetched her cloak this would disguise her bump and no doubt he would assume she was on her way out with the dogs.

“Sally, quickly, I need to put on my bonnet and cloak. I require you to do the same; Mr Bentley, a distant relative, has called in unexpectedly and I don’t wish him to remain here long. I should not be entertaining in the duke’s absence.”

Soon she was on her way to the drawing-room, Sally following behind and both dogs gambolling at her feet. The man would have to be stupid not to realise she was on her way elsewhere and could not entertain him.

Pausing in the shadows outside the drawing-room she viewed the young man who was lounging on the chaise-longue with his booted feet resting on the upholstery. This was not a good start. How impertinent of him to make himself at home in this way. She stepped in and stared frostily.

Instantly he was on his feet smiling and bowing. “Your grace, I do beg your pardon for intruding in this way. I can see that you’re about to go out, I shan’t delay you long. Richard Bentley, your husband’s heir, at your service.”

She inclined her head a fraction but did not suggest he sat. “Mr Bentley, I’ve arranged for you to eat before you leave. It isn’t seemly for you to be here when I am unattended by my husband. I can’t believe he would have suggested you visiting me in this way.”

His cheeks turned puce and he clutched at his ridiculously elaborate neck cloth. “I beg your pardon, Cousin Alexander does not know I called in. He believes me to the travelling with his manservant. Forgive me, your grace, but I could not leave without meeting you in person.” He stared at her, his watery blue eyes innocent. “I did not believe the rumours going around Town that you had disappeared. Now I can personally assure society you’re here at Newcomb.” He glanced round rather pointedly and raised an eyebrow. This was a gesture that reminded her of Alexander.

“I’ve spent the past few months in Norfolk with my family, my mother was ailing. Fortunately she has fully recovered. As I don’t enjoy the season and much prefer to live quietly in the country, I move into the east wing whilst my husband is away.”

“Ideal arrangement, it leaves you both free to …” he paused, looking self-conscious. “I beg your pardon … I was about to say something inappropriate.”

To what had he been referring? She could not help herself. “Free to do what exactly, sir?”

He looked at his feet; he was wearing the most ridiculous pair of high-heeled boots. “It’s not my place to discuss gossip, your grace. But as you insist, I am obliged to tell you what’s being said in the drawing rooms of the ton.”

She tapped her foot and waited. He appeared to shrink under her disdainful stare.

“They are saying Cousin Alexander has renewed his friendship with Lady Fulbright. I’m sure they are wrong and I beg your pardon for mentioning it.”

If the wretched man begged her pardon once more she would scream. “And so you should, I am appalled at your indelicacy.”

Slowly she let her gaze travel from his heavily pomaded brown hair, down his gaudy waistcoat to the gold tassels that ornamented his boots. He shifted uncomfortably. There was a slight sound behind her and Bill stepped forward.

“Your grace, breakfast is served for the gentleman. Shall I escort him?”

“Do that, Mr Brown. Mr Bentley will be leaving directly he has eaten.”

The young man edged forward. “I fear the horses won’t be sufficiently rested for another hour or two.”

This was the outside of enough; she was beginning to heartily dislike this mushroom. “In which case, sir, you can occupy your time by exploring the grounds. I bid you good day.”

Bentley stepped forward and swept her an extravagant bow. Ignoring his silliness she stalked out. Bill and the three footmen would ensure the irritating gentleman was ejected as soon as he had finished his meal. She would make sure she was inside before he came out. She patted her stomach. God willing this would be a boy.

*   *   *

Alexander had been kicking his heels at The Green Man for almost an hour when he spotted the carriage trundling into the yard. Striding across to greet Bentley he was shocked to discover only Duncan inside.

“Devil take it, Duncan, what have you done with Bentley?”

His valet shook his head. “Should he be travelling with me, your grace? He said nothing about that when he stopped to speak to me, merely told me to meet you at this hostelry.”

“We have to go back, damn him! If I did not know him for a fool, I would think he was leading me this dance deliberately. I shall cut across country again; rest the horses and then follow me.”

Rufus needed no further time in the stable but his grooms’ mounts were not fit to return immediately so he didn’t bother to have them fetched. Alexander tacked up the huge beast himself as there were no ostlers available. His return ride was far swifter, not only did he know the route, but was also concerned about the behaviour of the nincompoop.

He thundered across the park his horse kicking up huge clods of earth which would take his grounds men days to replace. There was no sign of the carriage waiting on the turning circle—was it in the coach house whilst the horses recovered? By his reckoning more than four hours had passed since his departure and it would be dark before long. He would not allow Bentley to remain at Newcomb, the buffoon must put up at the nearest coaching inn.

There was no sign of the team that had pulled the coach. He swore volubly, Isobel had sent her unwanted guest on his way. No doubt Duncan and Bentley would pass on the lane somewhere. This was a ridiculous situation. What was the matter with him? Why had he galloped back here? His wife was perfectly capable of dealing with the situation without his assistance.

A stable boy, startled at his sudden appearance, jumped off the pail he was sitting on to clean a bridle and tugged his forelock. No doubt the entire staff would think him fit for Bedlam after his performance today. He vaulted from the saddle and tossed the reins to the boy. Then his irritation vanished to be replaced by amusement. His sudden laughter sent Rufus skittering across the cobbles and the unfortunate stable lad lost his footing falling headfirst into a pile of freshly swept manure.

“Stand, Rufus, enough of that nonsense.” His horse quietened and he quickly threaded the end of the reins through a convenient metal ring before turning to hoist the boy from the dung. “Up you come, lad. Are you hurt?”

The urchin grinned as he spat out a mouthful of straw. “Right as rain, my lord. A bit of muck don’t hurt nobody.”

Still chuckling Alexander tossed the boy a coin and strolled from the stable yard round to the east wing. God knows what Isobel would make of all this. He hoped she would see the comical side to his reappearance when she had all but told him he was unwelcome here.

*   *   *

Mary bustled into the room her homely face split by a huge smile. “Well I never! His grace is back, and poor Johnny got tipped headfirst into the muck by that big horse.”

Isobel tossed aside her sewing with a smile. “I am not surprised, he would have realised Mr Bentley had intruded and would wish to make sure I was managing.”

“The chamber he used previously is ready for occupation. His man will still be on the road, so I shall send George to help him. He’s the most able of the footmen.”

“Make sure a bath is drawn for him, and send someone next door to find him clean clothes. Oh, Cook will need to be informed that there’s an extra person to dine this evening.”

The dogs barked furiously. He was here and she wished she’d had the forethought to change her gown. Too late to repine—he was already on his way to speak to her. She had recovered from the shock of hearing he was once more involved with his mistress but the infidelity still hurt.

He had not wasted much time before re-establishing Lady Fulbright as his chereamie. She supposed it was inevitable he would look elsewhere to satisfy his physical needs as she was no longer available. Her stomach lurched. How naive she was, he must have been seeing that woman for more than a year, since the time he had stopped making love to her on a regular basis.

The marriage was definitely over. She could never be intimate with him knowing he was sharing his body with another woman. She decided to remain seated. This would make it clear she was not overjoyed to see him again.

Alexander strode in. She gasped. She’d never seen him in such disorder, his many caped riding coat was still slung around his shoulders and his usually pristine Hessians were barely recognizable beneath thick mud. As for his breeches, they were not only dirty but ripped and bloodstained. This drew her attention to a nasty gash running across his thigh. If the injury was not attended to immediately he might well succumb to a putrid wound.

Forgetting her vow to treat him as he deserved she scrambled to her feet. “Alexander, did you take a fall? Look at your leg—I believe it might need the attentions of a physician.”

He glanced down as if noticing it for the first time. He frowned and looked almost embarrassed. “My dear, I beg your pardon …”

Laughing she interrupted him. “Please, don’t do so. Mr Bentley was forever begging my pardon, and if I had not sent him packing I believe I should have thrown a book at him.”

“I was going to apologise for appearing in my filth but obviously that’s unnecessary. I take it the idiot has departed from here?”

“Indeed he has. I’m afraid I did not take to him at all. He was served breakfast and then evicted. I made myself scarce until he was driven away.” She tugged the bell-strap before continuing. “Give me your outer garments. Good grief! Where is your hat?”

He grinned ruefully. “I believe that went when I had my altercation with a tree branch. I didn’t take a tumble, in fact until you mentioned it I hadn’t realised the damage I’d sustained.”

The butler appeared followed by two footmen. “Brown, his grace has sorely injured his leg. He will need it attending to.”

“Right away, my lady.” He bowed to Alexander and stepped closer in order to remove his coat. “If you would care to come with me, your grace, I’ve considerable experience with wounds of this sort. I was Colonel Fitzwilliam’s batman and you might have read about his injury at the Battle of Talevera.”

Alexander was given no chance to refuse. She watched with amusement as he was all but bundled from the room. He smiled at her over his shoulder. “When I am repaired, my dear, do I have your permission to join you down here?”

She was on her feet watching anxiously. “Don’t you think you should remain in your bed chamber and have your dinner brought up to you?”

“Certainly not. And anyway, my love, the amount I intend to consume would require three chambermaids to bring it to me.”

His chuckles filled the room as he was escorted away. Should she send for Dr Jamieson? Perhaps it would be better to wait and see what Bill said after he had dressed the cut. One thing she did know, he could not possibly ride back to London tomorrow. Of course, he could travel in the carriage with Duncan but even then the horses would need twenty four hours to recuperate.