The Irish Duke Read online

  As the two duchesses and their families made their way toward the Carlton House door, James gazed after Louisa Russell. Her dance had mesmerized him. Her lithe, graceful movements combined with her dark beauty captured his imagination and made his heart sing. He had lost his heart watching her dance. That she was garbed in red seemed prophetic. The Abercorn ancestral color was crimson.

  “I knew I’d have you eating out of my hand. It’s a trick I learned when I was taming my Arabian mare.” Abercorn smiled.

  Montagu House, London

  August 1894

  At the levee in Montagu House, Dowager Duchess Louisa looked at her great-granddaughter Maud. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

  Maud nodded. “Thank you for telling us the story, Your Grace.”

  The duchess sat back as the speeches began, extolling her virtues, but Louisa’s memories of Abercorn held her fast. The next time I saw James, I was suffering from a broken heart, as only a sixteen-year-old girl can.

  Chapter One

  Woburn Abbey

  May 1830

  “May I see the painting?” Louisa stroked her pony’s neck with a loving hand. Her heart beat wildly as she gazed at the handsome young man who was working on her portrait.

  “No, you may not, Mistress Impatience. The afternoon light is perfect. Ten more minutes is all I ask.”

  “Then it will be finished, Lanny?”

  “No, it won’t be finished.” He flashed her an indulgent smile. “Perhaps tomorrow, or the next day. Do you find posing tiresome, Louisa?”

  “Oh no!” She felt her cheeks blush and said shyly, “I like spending the afternoon in your company.” I wish you would go on painting me forever.

  Louisa’s father, the Duke of Bedford, had been Edwin Landseer’s patron for more than four years and had commissioned the talented young artist to paint portraits of his wife Georgina and his younger children.

  Louisa had considered the artist a familiar friend of the family. But as she posed for him, holding the reins of her pony, her feelings for the handsome young man underwent an amazing transformation.

  “Can you make me as beautiful as my mother?” she asked eagerly. Throughout her life Lady Louisa had been told she was the image of her exquisite mother, but she didn’t quite believe it.

  “You are the prettiest young lady I have ever painted. With the same beautiful dark green eyes, you are truly your mother’s daughter.”

  Louisa lowered her lashes shyly at the lovely compliment. It was the first real praise she had ever received from a member of the opposite sex, and it made her heart flutter.

  Thinking an insect had landed on her face, she brushed her fingers across her cheek. Then she felt something hit her chin and heard a muffled giggle. She swooped down immediately and scooped up her youngest brother, Alex, from beneath the mulberry bushes. She kissed his chubby cheek. “You horrid louts shouldn’t be teaching him such naughty tricks.”

  Cosmo and Henry, eleven and twelve respectively, sniggered loudly and moved a safe distance away, but still within taunting distance. “Catch us if you can, Cracknut!”

  “Just ignore them,” Edwin advised.

  “They think it hilarious to call me by the name of my pet dormouse. The boys have run wild for years since Father has been ill; Mother has spent all her time with him.” John Russell, Duke of Bedford, had suffered a stroke in 1822, paralyzing his right side, distorting his mouth, and crippling his arm.

  “Because of your mother’s devoted nursing, your father is much improved and has regained his vigor.” Edwin Landseer wiped his brushes. “That’s enough for today. Your older brothers will soon be home from Oxford for the summer. They’ll box Henry and Cosmo across the ear if they catch them teasing you.”

  “No, they won’t! They are a brotherhood of demons from hell. Instead of three, there will be six to taunt me, to say nothing of their loutish friends who’ll come to stay. The rabbit warren will become a madhouse! The only one who ever champions me is my half-brother, Johnny, but he seldom visits because of his Parliamentary duties.”

  “Then I shall be your champion.”

  Louisa sighed. “Thank you, kind sir.” As she watched him carry his paints and canvas toward the house, she pictured him on a white charger, wearing her colors at a jousting tournament.

  She set her young brother on his feet. “You may come with me while I put Coltsfoot in the paddock.”

  “Don’t want to. I’m playing soldiers with Cosmo and Henry.”

  “All right, Alexander the Ingrate, off you go.” Louisa led her pony along the manicured path that led to the stables. Her mind was filled with Lanny’s handsome image. The teasing look in his blue eyes made him irresistibly attractive. All of her family, except the baby, had dark hair and eyes, and Edwin’s fair coloring was striking. He thinks I am the prettiest young lady he has ever painted!

  As she opened the paddock gate, she saw that her sister Georgy and her groom had returned from their ride. She suddenly felt a pang of remorse at reveling in her own pretty face. Her sister had inherited none of their mother’s great beauty and could only be described as plain. Although Louisa never reflected on it, that was the reason she loved Georgy so deeply and felt fiercely protective toward her.

  The young groom raised his arms to help Lady Georgianna dismount. As she came down from the saddle, she allowed her body to slide against his and then dropped to her knees in the grass. When she saw her sister, she quickly jumped up and moved away from him. “Lu, are you spying on me?”

  “Of course not.” Louisa removed her pony’s bridle. “Lanny wanted me to pose with Coltsfoot and I’m just returning her to the paddock.” She watched Dick lead her sister’s mare and his own mount into the stables.

  “He’s devilishly attractive, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I do. I can’t wait to see my portrait.”

  “I don’t mean Lanny, for God’s sake. I mean Dick!”

  “Ah.” Louisa hesitated. “You shouldn’t let him touch you like that.”

  “Shouldn’t I? You’re such a prude, Lu. You have no sense of fun. You’re a late bloomer—you haven’t even begun to notice the opposite sex yet.”

  Louisa blushed, remembering how her heart had fluttered a half hour ago.

  “You’re seventeen and I bet you’ve never even been kissed.”

  Lu pictured Lanny touching his lips to hers and her cheeks grew hot.

  “A wager!” Georgy challenged. “A guinea says you won’t experience a kiss before you turn eighteen in July.”

  “Of course I will, if I put my mind to it.”

  “Use your breasts, not your brain,” her sister advised knowingly.

  Louisa changed her dress and hurried downstairs to the Venetian drawing room to have a word with her mother before the evening meal. Dinner at Woburn was at six o’clock and seldom were there fewer than twenty people seated in the formal dining room, which displayed the duke’s collection of Van Dyke paintings.

  She found her mother conversing with her best friend, Lady Holland, whose Ampthill estate was also in Bedfordshire. “Hello, Aunt Beth.” Louisa glanced anxiously at her mother, who had been looking wan and tired lately. Baby Rachel was only two, and when she cried in the night her mother sat rocking her for hours until she went back to sleep. Louisa’s concern eased when she saw that she looked both happy and well.

  “Hello, Lu. What have you been up to?” Beth patted the blue velvet settee, inviting her to join them.

  “Lanny is painting my portrait with Coltsfoot, but he won’t show it to me until it’s finished.”

  “Posing with animals can be most trying. I once had my portrait painted holding a fidgety spaniel on my knee. Never again!”

  “What happened? Did it pee on you?” Georgina teased. “Edwin has an affinity for painting animals. His talent is unmatched. When we were in the Highlands in the autumn, he did the most spectacular painting of a stag. Though I’ve sketched all my life, my artistic ability pales beside his. I wi
sh he could transfer his genius to me.”

  “Speaking of the Highlands,” Louisa said tentatively, “is it true that when you were my age, Grandmama took you on a recruiting mission, where you offered a kiss and a guinea to any male who would join the Gordon Highlanders regiment?”

  “It is the gospel truth. It was so successful that we recruited a thousand men!”

  Louisa gasped. “You kissed a thousand men?”

  “Not quite a thousand,” Georgina said with a wink. “My sister and mother kissed a couple of hundred, but I got the lion’s share.”

  “I’ve never been kissed once!”

  Louisa’s words hung in the air, as Georgina and Beth exchanged a significant glance.

  “Your mother loves to tease and exaggerate, Lu. You mustn’t take her seriously.”

  “Darling, a kiss is an insignificant trifle. You’ll have kisses aplenty, once you are presented and make your debut. The young gentlemen will be fighting over you.”

  If kisses have so little importance and Georgy kisses Dick, I’ll have to find someone before my birthday. I can’t lose a wager with my sister. Trouble is, there’s only one person I want to kiss.

  “There’s the gong for dinner. Your father hates tardiness.” Georgina waited until her daughter hurried off and then remarked to Beth, “Lu is so unworldly. That’s what comes of living at Woburn instead of London. At her age my four sisters and I were positively bold and sophisticated by comparison.”

  “Well, you were all brought up by the indomitable Jane Gordon. How could you be other than wise in the ways of the wicked world?” Beth teased.

  “Very true. The women of my family were both audacious and shrewd.”

  By the time they arrived in the dining room, Louisa’s brothers, Henry and Cosmo, were already at the table. Alexander’s nanny brought in her charge, sat him down, and departed. The Duke of Bedford, with the aid of a walking stick, arrived with his friend Lord Holland and Edwin Landseer. Her father’s young physician, Harry Halford, who had resided with them since the duke had suffered his stroke, followed them.

  When Henry gallantly held Georgina’s chair, then did the same for Louisa, she smiled and said, “Thank you, Uncle Holly.” When Edwin performed the same service for Lady Holland, Louisa felt positively envious.

  John Russell’s dark brows drew together. “Where’s Georgy? A lack of promptness is ill mannered.”

  Her father was displaying what her mother referred to as Russell firmness. Louisa cleared her throat. “Georgy was reading,” she improvised quickly. “She must have gotten so absorbed, she didn’t hear the dinner gong.”

  “What was she reading?” he asked with skepticism.

  “One of your lovely books on botany.” Lu managed not to choke on the lie. The only interest Georgy takes in flora and fauna is rolling in the grass.

  The soup was being served by the time Georgy slid into her chair. Louisa saw that she hadn’t changed from her riding dress and there were telltale green stains on her skirt. “Please excuse me,” Georgy begged sweetly.

  Her father’s stern voice rang out. “Georgianna . . .”

  To deflect the reprimand, Louisa took her courage in both hands. “May I dance for you after dinner? Georgy will play for me.”

  “That would be lovely,” Beth enthused.

  Instead of the usual rude protests from her brothers, Louisa saw Henry and Cosmo exchange a sly smile and wondered what the young demons were up to.

  “Lanny, when you have finished the portrait of Lu with her pony, I would like you to paint her in one of her ballet gowns. What do you think?”

  “An excellent suggestion, Your Grace. It would be my pleasure.”

  Louisa lowered her eyes to the beautiful birds and butterflies that decorated her Meissen soup plate and thought it sacrilege when the footman filled it with consommé. Lanny wants to paint me . . . It will give him pleasure. Her heart began to sing. She closed her eyes and her imagination took flight: They were standing by the fountain in the center of the maze. He dipped his head and gently touched his lips to hers. She raised her lashes and gazed into his adoring, deep blue eyes. Then Georgy joggled her elbow and her fantasy dissolved. Lu cast a guilty look across the table and to her great delight, Lanny smiled at her. Perhaps he read my mind! Her breath caught in her throat.

  Before the soup plates were removed and the spring lamb was served, the adults were arguing the merits of breast- feeding. Dr. Halford sided with the Duchess of Bedford, and her racy rejoinders soon had the company laughing. “There’s nothing more entertaining than titillating conversation at dinner.”

  Louisa glanced at her father and was relieved to see he’d forgotten Georgy’s tardiness. The conversation turned to politics, as it invariably did at Woburn. Tonight Louisa’s newly awakened yearnings outweighed her interest in politics, so through the rest of the meal she sat daydreaming about the handsome young artist. Tonight I will dance especially for Lanny. When she was twelve, it came as a devastating realization that a duke’s daughter could not perform on the public stage. But Woburn had its own private theater, which had helped to blunt her disappointment. When she was onstage dancing or acting a role in a play, she took on a persona of confidence and self-assurance. Her costume became a disguise that masked her shyness and insecurity.

  After dinner, the ladies usually withdrew to the blue drawing room while the men drank, but tonight everyone repaired to Woburn’s theater to watch Louisa perform.

  Alexander trotted beside his sister. “I like watching you dance, Lulu.”

  “Thank you.” She thought him sweet, if only because he was too young to be a hellion.

  Georgy took her seat at the harpsichord while Louisa went backstage. In the costume room she lifted the lid of the trunk that held her ballet dresses and slippers. With dismay, she discovered that the ribbons had been cut from all her satin dancing slippers. “Damn and blast the young devils!”

  She rummaged to the bottom of the trunk and pulled out a pair of toe shoes they’d overlooked. Though she hadn’t intended to perform a toe dance, she quickly changed her plans. She removed her gown and petticoat and donned a white bell-shaped ballet dress. Then she sat down on the trunk, pulled on the shoes, and crisscrossed their satin ribbons around her ankles so they were firmly secured.

  Louisa walked to the center of the stage, raised her chin, and posed dramatically. She held still, completely poised, with the composure of a professional performer. Her sister knew only a few dance selections, and Lu had learned to match her steps to whatever notes Georgy played.

  When the music began, she rose to her toes and danced demi pointe, with dainty little steps that carried her across the stage. She was graceful as a gazelle, swaying with the music as if it were part of her being. She raised her arms, leaped into the air, and landed perfectly on her toes without missing a beat. She was as light as a butterfly as she spiraled across the stage, dancing her heart out for only one person.

  The music ended on a crescendo and Louisa swept into a low curtsy, her head almost touching her ankles. When she rose to acknowledge the applause, she gave Lanny a radiant smile. Then she extended her hand toward Georgy and watched her take a bow.

  Louisa did not feel the pain until she left the stage. She hobbled over to the trunk and removed her shoes and stockings. All of her toes were raw and bleeding. She winced as she dabbed them with her petticoat and then smiled. It was worth it!

  Before she went to bed, she made an entry in her private journal. She put down only the important things in her life, like her feelings for Lanny. The diary’s clasp had a small lock and key for safekeeping. When she was finished, she carefully put the book away in the secret drawer of her writing desk and hid the key. No one must ever find it and read it. These are the secrets of my heart.

  Chapter Two

  William, I’m afraid I dislike your wife intensely. Louisa kept a polite smile on her face.

  “No one would guess you and Georgy were sisters; there is no family rese
mblance.” Elizabeth Russell was her half-brother William’s wife. The couple had spent the last few years abroad and had just returned to England. “She’s rather plump and plain.”

  “I think Georgy is beautiful, and she doesn’t say unkind things about people.”

  “She’s twenty . . . on the marriage market over a year, and still no prospects?”

  “Nineteen.” For another fortnight. “Georgy hasn’t made her debut yet. Grandfather Gordon died and our mourning postponed her coming out. We are making our debut together in the autumn.”

  “Your mother is very shrewd to pair you up. She knows that all eyes will be on you and no one will notice your sister’s shortcomings.”

  Louisa was fuming and fought the urge to shove Elizabeth on her narrow arse. She hoped her visit would be a short one. “I hear you have bought a townhouse in London.”

  “Yes, we chose a house in Cavendish Square. It’s not ready, of course. We will be staying at Woburn until it is completely redecorated and furnished. Your mother has offered to help with the refurbishing, but our tastes are vastly dissimilar . . .”

  “Yes, Mother has exquisite taste in all things. It is a pity your standards don’t run parallel with hers.”

  They were in the breakfast room, located between the Van Dyke dining room and the Venetian drawing room. “We have Mother to thank for this cozy room. She chose the wallpaper to complement the old English masters and filled the bookcases with Shakespeare and the lyrical British poets. She decided every detail from the Sevres china to the Irish Waterford crystal. The atmosphere is so inviting . . . I love to linger over breakfast, then browse through a book.”

  “I prefer French or Greek classics.” Elizabeth looked down her haughty nose as if she smelled something bad.

  The atmosphere was inviting until you arrived, Bessy. I shall linger no more. “Please excuse me. I don’t want to be late for my sitting.”