The Irish Duke Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty- Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Teaser chapter

  Praise for New York Times Bestselling Author

  VIRGINIA HENLEY

  “Henley’s gift for bringing remarkable women to life in colorful, turbulent times is what turns her romances into keepers. Henley heats up the pages with her love scenes, and her skill at portraying actual historical personages with humanity while maintaining historical accuracy wins our minds. Henley knows what historical romance is all about and always gives the readers what they want.”

  —Romantic Times

  The Decadent Duke

  “A standout . . . the perfect blend of historical backdrop and romance.”

  —Romantic Times (Top Pick)

  Insatiable

  “Dangerous games, Machiavellian manipulations, and political maneuverings . . . lusty and lavish.”

  —Booklist

  “As twists of fate contrive to keep the two apart—intrigue, backstabbing, the bubonic plague—readers will hanker for them to live happily ever after.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Undone

  “All the sensuality and glitter of a more traditional romance but enriched by the plot’s complexity and the heroine’s genuine growth.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A gently suspenseful tale . . . filled with satisfying historical detail and actual characters from this intriguing period.”

  —Booklist

  “Extraordinary characters, rich historical details, and a romance . . . [set] the pages on fire.”

  —Romantic Times (Top Pick)

  PREVIOUS BOOKS BY VIRGINIA HENLEY

  The Decadent Duke

  Infamous

  Insatiable

  Unmasked

  Undone

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  SIGNET ECLIPSE

  Published by New American Library,

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  First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, March 2010

  Copyright © Virginia Henley, 2010 All rights reserved

  SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Henley, Virginia.

  The Irish Duke/Virginia Henley

  p. cm.

  “A Signet Eclispe book.”

  eISBN : 978-1-101-18583-4

  I. Title.

  PS3558.E49634I75

  2010

  813’.54—dc22

  2009039830

  Set in Fairfield Light

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  Dedicated to my devoted reader Artist Debi Allen,

  and to all my other loyal readers.

  I owe it all to you.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I am indebted to the following historical and biographical sources, which provided a wealth of information on Georgian England’s society, monarchs, government, and noble families, including the Russells and the Hamiltons.

  • A. Graves Catalogue of the Works of the late Sir Edwin Landseer, 1876

  • Lord Frederick Spencer Hamilton The Days Before Yesterday

  • Lord Holland Memoirs of the Whig Party, 1854

  • Princess Dorothea Lieven Correspondence with Lord Grey

  • John Pearson Stags and Serpents

  • J. H. Plumb The First Four Georges

  • J. Preest Lord John Russell

  • Alice Robbins A Book of Duchesses

  • Rachel Trethewey Mistress of the Arts

  • Spencer Walpole The Life of Lord John Russell

  • The Abercorn Estate Papers, County Tyrone Record 7277 from the Directory of Sources for Women’s History in Ireland

  • “The London World” New York Times, August 5, 1894

  • The Tyrone Constitution newspaper Ireland Old News Web site, November 1844

  • Britannica online encyclopedia

  • Wikipedia

  Prologue

  Montagu House, London

  August 1894

  “Wouldn’t you love to know?” Dowager Duchess Louisa winked at her two great-granddaughters who were whispering about her.

  The pair blushed hotly when they realized Lu had overheard them wondering how many lovers she’d had in her eighty-odd years.

  The trés grande dame was presiding over a levee of her one hundred and one desc
endants.

  “After all, I belonged to the decadent Georgian era. You cannot expect me to even pay lip service to the rigid respectability of the repressed Victorians.”

  “Is it true, Your Grace, that you declined the office of Mistress of the Robes to her Majesty the Queen?” Maud asked in awe.

  Lu threw back her head and laughed. “Not once, but twice. One of my greatest passions is beautiful raiment in brilliant colors, such as red. Just the thought of Queen Victoria’s dull and dowdy garments gives me the shudders.”

  “Her daughter-in-law Princess Alexandra has lovely taste in clothes,” Maud said.

  “Indeed she has. It will be a most welcome change to have a queen who is fashionable. I cannot wait.”

  The girls looked incredulous that the old girl expected to outlive Queen Victoria.

  The corners of Lu’s lips lifted in a wry smile. “I’m not ready to stick my spoon in the wall for another decade. I fully intend to welcome in the next era with gusto.” She waved her crimson ostrich-feather fan languidly. “A little decadence never hurt anyone.”

  The room fell silent as Louisa’s youngest daughter Evelyn, Marchioness of Lansdowne, read congratulatory letters from Her Majesty Queen Victoria and His Royal Highness, Edward, Prince of Wales.

  The future Duke of Leeds, who was married to her favorite granddaughter, handed her a glass of champagne and kissed her cheek. He raised his own glass. “I drink a toast to the best- looking woman in London.”

  “I’ll give you a toast an Irishman taught me:

  Here’s to you and here’s to me,

  And if someday we disagree,

  Sod you . . . here’s to me!”

  Louisa sat in the place of honor so that the speeches could begin. Her great-granddaughter Maud and her cousin returned, eager to learn all they could about their fascinating great-grandmother.

  “What is it now, Miss Inquisitive?”

  “I heard that you first met James Hamilton when you were a little girl. Is that true, Your Grace?”

  Louisa’s mind took wing and soared back over the decades to Carlton House. “It was July 1819. . . . I remember it all as if it were yesterday.”

  Carlton House, London

  July 1819

  “Lady Louisa, will you marry me?”

  Louisa Jane Russell, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Bedford, stared at the boy who had planted himself before her, and saw the determination written on his face. “Who the devil are you?” she demanded.

  Nine-year-old James Hamilton, needing to impress the beautiful seven-year-old, raised his chin with pride. “I am the Marquis of Abercorn.” He pronounced it Avercorn.

  “Do you have a speech impediment?”

  James drew himself up to his full height. “Certainly not!”

  “Then why did you say Avercorn when your name is Abercorn?”

  James hid a smile. He resisted the impulse to correct the dark little beauty and inform her that the letter “b” in his title was pronounced “v.” “You may call me whatever you like, if you will consent to be my future wife.”

  “Isn’t Abercorn an Irish title?”

  “Yes, it is. My name is James Hamilton. I came into my grandfather’s title last year.” His heart was doing a jig just looking at her. “You haven’t answered my question, Lady Louisa. Will you marry me?”

  She raised her lashes and stared at him. “Marry an Irishman with a speech impediment? You must be mad!”

  Louisa joined her older sister, Georgy. She eyed the glass of wine in her hand and licked her lips. “Where’s Mother?”

  “She’s in the scarlet drawing room with Jack and Charles. Our insufferable brothers have cornered Prinny and are asking all sorts of ridiculous questions about the decorations on his portly chest. Who was that handsome devil you were talking to?”

  “His name is James Hamilton. His good looks are very deceiving. He’s actually quite stupid.” She dismissed him from her thoughts. “I’m ravenous. I was too nervous to eat before I performed my dance but now my belly is rolling.” Louisa could see that her sister wasn’t even listening to her. She was searching for someone in the crowd of young people invited to Carlton House for the children’s party. When Georgy darted into the throng of pedigreed youngsters, she sprang after her. “Wait a minute. Where’s the refreshment room?”

  To Louisa’s consternation, her sister stopped before James Hamilton and began talking to him. She turned her back on them and was heading in the direction of the scarlet drawing room when she encountered the Prince of Wales.

  “My dear, your Spanish dance was delightful.” He touched the red fringe on her shawl with a pudgy finger. “You have your mother’s exquisite beauty. What may I do to show you my appreciation?”

  “Could you get me some ham sandwiches, Your Highness, and a glass of sugared wine? I’m very hungry.”

  Prinny hid a smile and bowed gallantly. “Your wish is my command, Lady Louisa. I am always delighted to please a lady.”

  Louisa decided to follow him and with every step she happily clicked the castanets she’d used in her Spanish shawl dance. She instinctively knew if there was food to be had, the corpulent prince regent would home in on it like a pig unearthing truffles.

  Prinny took delight in Lady Louisa’s dainty appetite. “All the Russell children are most impressive. Your brothers are such fine young men.”

  Her brows drew together. My brothers are young savages. She swallowed the last morsel. “Thank you for the sandwiches, Your Highness. It was a lovely party. I shall take my wine with me so I may savor it.” She sketched a curtsy and departed.

  Louisa scanned the ranks of doting parents for her mother but didn’t see her. Her eyes, however, met those of a striking-looking woman wearing a white turban decorated with a large ruby. She recognized her as Princess Lieven, wife of the Russian ambassador.

  Louisa smiled, and when the Russian noblewoman beckoned, she sat down beside her. “Are you enjoying the party, Princess Lieven?”

  “I was overcome with ennui until I saw you dance, Lady Louisa.” She stroked the silk shawl. “Red is a bold color. Do you like it?”

  “I love it . . . it makes me feel alive.”

  “Red has a power all its own. You should wear it often. It is a striking color for a lady with dark hair and green eyes like yours.”

  Louisa was enthralled. “Do you have Gypsy blood, Princess Lieven?”

  “My blood is quite blue, I assure you. But I do have psychic power—the ability to see into the future. It is a gift or a curse, depending on the circumstances.”

  “How fascinating!” Louisa sipped her sugared wine. “Can you see my future?”

  Dorothea Lieven ran the tip of her tongue over her rouged lips. “Would you truly want to know your future, child?”

  “Oh, yes, please,” she said avidly.

  “Set your wine down and give me your hand.”

  Louisa did as she was bidden and gazed enthralled as the wraith-like princess stared down at her open palm.

  “You have a long life ahead of you, Louisa Russell. You will live to be almost a hundred years old. You will be a great favorite at Court and will live to see five different monarchs sit on the throne of England.”

  Old King George is about to die and the prince regent will be king soon. Louisa pictured a plump Prinny sitting on the throne, wearing a glittering crown.

  “I see many children surrounding you.”

  “Yes, there are so many of us that Father calls Woburn Abbey the rabbit warren. Mother isn’t going to have any more babies, is she?” Louisa asked anxiously. At Christmas her mother had given birth to a lifeless baby boy.

  “Georgina, Duchess of Bedford, is a friend of mine. I think it entirely probable she will have more. But I was speaking of your own children surrounding you.”

  Louisa was horrified. “You must be mistaken. I intend to be a dancer and an actress on the stage. I don’t want a horde of children. Perhaps I will consider having just one little girl bu
t no boys, certainly.”

  Princess Lieven brushed Louisa’s dark curls from her serious forehead. “Nonsense. You will have more than a dozen children, all beautiful.” She saw the look of dismay on the child’s face and hastened to assure her. “There will be more girls than boys.”

  Louisa jumped up in alarm. Her mother’s agonizing screams as she gave birth the last three years in a row echoed in her memory. “I must find Mother. Please excuse me, Princess Lieven.”

  It didn’t take her long to recognize the Duchess of Bedford’s hat across the chamber. Her mother always wore the most spectacular creations. Louisa hurried to her side and found her surrounded by young people. Her brothers Charles and Jack, as well as her cousin Arthur Lennox, were conversing with their school friends from Westminster, including James Hamilton. Her sister Georgy was batting her eyelashes at Abercorn in a ridiculous manner.

  Her Aunt Charlotte, the Dowager Duchess of Richmond, had brought her three youngest daughters, Madelina, Lottie, and Sophia, since Fife House was close by.

  “There you are, Pussycat.” Georgina smiled at her daughter. “Your dance was a great success, darling.”

  Her female cousins looked impressed, but her brothers snickered and she pointedly ignored them.

  “Are you hungry?” her mother asked with concern.

  James Hamilton stepped forward and fished in his pocket. “I have something you might like, Lady Louisa.”

  “No, thank you.” Her refusal was coolly polite. “His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales, brought me some sandwiches.” Suddenly her eyes sparkled with delight. Sitting in the middle of Abercorn’s palm was a sugared mouse. “Oh, how sweet. I absolutely cannot resist it.” She took the offered treasure to her mouth and licked it.