Page 4 of The Decadent Duke


  "There’s a cricket match on Saturday. Would you like to go?’’

  "Yes, please!’’ William was on the junior team at Westminster.

  "Just the four of us?’’ Francis asked, eagerly.

  "Yes, just us men. Your mother doesn’t care for sports.’’

  Charlotte welcomed the drooping buttercup and daisy bouquet Mary had picked for her. "Thank you for the flowers, darling. They’re lovely. I can see the pair of you had a fabulous time.’’

  "How did you know?’’ Mary asked, wide-eyed.

  "Children are happiest when they are dirty or wet.’’ She eyed Georgina. "Even grown children. Since the pair of you are dirty and wet, a fabulous time was had by both!’’

  "We saw a bad man,’’ Mary declared. "A bad old man who told us to go home. Georgy told him to go to the devil.’’

  "Really?’’ Charlotte’s lips twitched with amusement. "What happened to Lady Georgina’s fatal charm that renders men weak?’’

  Georgina declared, "He was totally impervious to it. The surly sod addressed me as little girl! I wanted to kick his shins.’’

  Charlotte laughed. "What stopped you?’’

  "The thought of breaking my toe,’’ Georgina replied ruefully. The man was definitely dangerous! The dark, dominant brute looked quite capable of giving me a thrashing.

  In the early afternoon, Georgina strolled out behind the stables to where her brother-in-law had set up permanent wickets so that he could practice.

  She was wearing a crisp blue linen dress and had brushed her dark curls back and tied them with a ribbon. With a warm smile, she greeted her brother-in-law, who was pitching the ball to his friend George Finch. "Charles, cricket isn’t your hobby. It is your obsession,’’ she teased.

  "Mea culpa,’’ he said with a grin. "Winchilsea and I have a match on Saturday.’’ Since Lennox was the member of parliament for Sussex, he played for the Sussex team.

  The earl completely missed the ball because his attention was focused on the vision in blue. Young Charlie Lennox ran to retrieve the ball and return it to his father.

  Winchilsea asked, "Would you like to come and watch the match?’’

  "George, I would enjoy it above all things.’’

  "Jolly good! How about that lesson I promised you? Come over here, and I’ll show you how to hold the bat.’’

  Georgina knew exactly how to hold a cricket bat, but she wasn’t about to spoil the earl’s pleasure. She winked at Lennox standing on the mound and joined Winchilsea.

  He handed her the bat and placed his arms around her. "There’s a special knack to it, you know. Above all else, you must keep your eye on the ball.’’

  "I feel most honored that you are willing to share your secrets with me, George.’’ She held him in thrall with flattery.

  Lennox watched the interaction between his friend and his young sister-in-law and thought perhaps he had been wrong yesterday. Georgina just might be ripe for plucking.

  Elizabeth Russell, as always, withdrew early to her own bedchamber, and John dined with his sons. After dinner, the two older boys played a quiet game of chess. At bedtime, John read to his youngest son, and then in his own chamber, he did paperwork that dealt with the needs of his constituents.

  His grandfather had instilled in him that wealth and privilege brought great responsibility to those less fortunate. John thoroughly enjoyed representing the people of Tavistock, and worked tirelessly in the House of Commons to better the lives of his working-class constituents. If the government turned down his proposals, he paid for improvements out of his own money.

  That had always been a bone of contention with Elizabeth. She was adamantly against any of their wealth being squandered, as she called it, on the lower classes. As a result, John had learned to keep his own counsel and to never discuss politics with her.

  John finished his paperwork and went to bed. About an hour after he fell asleep, his recurring dream began. He was astride his hunter, riding through a sun-drenched meadow filled with wildflowers. Their heady scent, combined with the exhilarating feeling of freedom he experienced, was intoxicating.

  The female companion riding beside him was a joyous creature who loved and lived life to the fullest. She had a passion for nature, and children, and animals, and he never tired of hearing her laugh. They were racing their horses toward a hill, and John knew he would let her win for the sheer pleasure of watching her exult in her victory.

  Suddenly, they were drenched by a summer shower, but the lady did not even slow down. She galloped up the hill, slid from her saddle, and climbed up on a high boulder. She raised her arms and exultantly lifted her face to the rain, as if it were the elixir of life.

  John dismounted at the base of the boulder and he held up his arms. "Jump! I’ll catch you.’’

  Her silvery laughter was the loveliest thing he’d ever heard. Without hesitation she flung herself with total abandon into his waiting arms. He caught her and then rolled with her until he had her pinned beneath him in the wet grass.

  When he captured her soft, warm mouth it tasted of delicious laughter and sensual anticipation. It was heady intoxication to know that she wanted him as much as he desired making love to her. The reaction her eagerness stirred in him was a potent spur to possess her body and soul and lure her to surrender her essence to him.

  She was that rare female who could blot out his pain and anger and the dark thoughts that tortured his mind. He could lose himself in the tempting, honeyed depths of her body, where she allowed him to indulge any wicked fantasy for which he thirsted and craved.

  He enjoyed the seduction because it heightened their desire and brought the blissful, almost unendurable pleasure that allowed him to escape as nothing else could.

  The intense delirium his lovemaking aroused in her took him to a place where only rich, dark sensation existed. He indulged a passion so powerful, it brought exquisite pleasure, followed by peace and deep contentment.

  John awoke with the usual sense of acute loss. He knew he had had the recurring dream again because the details were so vivid. The only thing he could never recall was the face of his joyful companion. And though he did not often allow himself the indulgence of introspection, he realized he could never remember what she looked like, because she was a mythical creature—there was no face, no woman. His dream was a manifestation of a suppressed longing for more laughter, joy, and freedom in his life.

  On Friday evening at Marylebone Manor, Thomas Lord was a guest at dinner. The match on Saturday was being played at nearby Lord’s Cricket Ground, which Lennox and Winchilsea had backed financially when it opened. Once again the subject of cricket monopolized the men’s conversation.

  By the time dessert was served, Charlotte had had enough. "Lady Georgina and I will take our dessert in the sitting room,’’ she told the footman. "Really, gentlemen, I believe the conversation in the nursery would be more stimulating.’’

  The gentlemen stood and offered their sincere apologies as the sisters left the dining room. Georgina tucked her legs underneath her on a sofa and picked up a scrapbook of newspaper clippings. She briefly scanned the articles about Charles Lennox, Earl of March. They hailed him as a renowned cricket player, both as a wicket keeper and a right-hand bat. She flipped over the pages and found something much more to her liking.

  "Oh, here is an article from the Times about the grand ball at the Pantheon given to celebrate the king’s recovery from his devastating malady. You and Mother were patrons of the event. I was pea green with envy because I was too young to attend. It sounds like it was a most opulent affair: More than two thousand guests danced the night away, drank champagne, and sang ’God Save the King.’ The Duchess of Gordon and her daughter, the Countess of Lennox, decreed that all the guests should wear white and gold. The ball was opened by Jane, Duchess of Gordon, on the arm of Prime Minister Pitt to the sound of loud applause.’’

  "It was a mad crush, and unbelievably expensive. Ostensibly, the ball was t
o celebrate King George’s return to sanity, but in reality it was to mark the political victory of William Pitt.’’

  "Yes, the Prince of Wales and his friend Charles James Fox thought they could secure control of the administration when the king became incapacitated. But the brilliant Mr. Pitt introduced the Regency Bill in parliament to limit the prince’s power. The arguments in the House, both pro and con, delayed any action being taken, and before it was passed to the House of Lords for a decision, King George suddenly regained his sanity.’’

  "You have quite a grasp of politics for a young lady of fashion,’’ Charlotte said with admiration.

  "How could I not? Mother’s liaison with Henry Dundas, the prime minister’s home secretary, gives me a front-row seat about what’s going on in the government. I have to admit that I am fascinated by politics.’’

  " ’Tis said that power is an aphrodisiac ... Mother’s long-standing intimate friendship with the Scot statesman proves it.’’

  "Louisa and I regularly went up in the House of Commons gallery to listen to the speeches. Disguised as males, of course, to add to our enjoyment. I shall have to find another partner in crime to aid and abet me.’’

  "Surely Huntly will accommodate you, and with our brother as escort, you needn’t disguise yourself.’’

  "I suppose that will be the great advantage to my coming out. I will no longer be excluded from moving about in fashionable circles. I shall also be able to attend balls and entertainments thrown by the haut ton’s leading hostesses.’’ Georgina wrinkled her nose. "Unfortunately, being thrust onto the marriage market will be the great disadvantage.’’

  "When I came out, Mother set her sights on her dear friend and ally, William Pitt, believe it or not. She was so determined to make a match between us that she began to take me with her to visit him at his house in Wimbledon. Though William paid respectful attention to me, it never progressed to the amorous stage, and I believe it finally dawned on Mother that the prime minister was a confirmed bachelor.’’

  "Oh, that’s priceless. I’m so glad you didn’t allow her to choose your husband for you, Charlotte. I too intend to decide whom I shall marry.’’

  "Don’t delude yourself, Georgina,’’ her sister said dryly.

  "I wish...’’ Georgina’s voice trailed away.

  "What do you wish, my dear?’’

  "I wish Mother and Father weren’t estranged. Do you suppose they were ever in love?’’

  "I don’t know. They had a strong physical attraction at one time. They were certainly in lust—I don’t know about love.’’

  "She was unquestionably a good wife and mother. Though the Maxwells were far lower than the Gordons in noble rank, she made him a magnificent duchess. She certainly devoted herself to helping the Gordon tenants, and by doing so made Father’s fortunes grow. She started the local industry of weaving, and introduced the wearing of tartan into fashionable society, which in turn boosted Highland manufacturing. She taught the cottagers how to grow and dress flax. She urged Father to build mills, then convinced other nobles to start mills in their own Highland towns.’’

  "The spinning, dying, and weaving of wool have certainly helped to alleviate the scourge of poverty that is so prevalent in Scotland,’’ Charlotte agreed. "She even became an advocate for children to be educated in how to grow crops, so they can take over their fathers’ farms.’’

  "She became political only when she realized that more long-term solutions were needed to cure poverty. She was also a tireless patron of the arts in Scotland and then in England. Mother is an unparalleled hostess. No man could ask for a more accomplished partner.’’

  "True! Yet Father has rewarded her with a passel of bastards—there’s thanks for you.’’

  "I know I complain about her, because of her shameless pursuit of titled husbands for her daughters, but I am extremely proud of her accomplishments. She is a force to be reckoned with.’’

  "You are very like her, Georgina.’’

  "Well, she has brought us all up in her own image to be unabashed sensualists and enjoy life to the fullest.’’

  "As well as her vivacity, you have her great beauty. Of course, you are more delicate and refined, and thankfully far more cultured. Mother has a coarseness about her that you didn’t inherit, praise heaven! I assure you that the runt of the litter turned out to be quite a dazzling jewel.’’

  "Your praise is far too generous, Charlotte. I have myriad flaws that I don’t always manage to keep hidden.’’

  On Saturday they arrived early at Lord’s Cricket Grounds, and much to Georgina’s amusement, she watched as a herd of sheep were rounded up and driven from the field. They were allowed to graze at Lord’s to keep the grass short. "You gentlemen had better acquit yourselves well in the match today, or it will be said that the sheep have a better right to the grass than you do.’’

  "Cricket fanatics are impervious to insult,’’ Charlotte assured her. "Let’s stroll about before the match starts. It will give us a chance to show off our elegant hats and make disparaging remarks about the other ladies’ dresses.’’

  Georgina was adorned from head to foot in pristine white. As well as a fashionable large-brimmed hat, she had brought a frilly parasol to shade her from the sun.

  The two sisters made their way through the crowd, exchanging greetings with friends and acquaintances gathered to watch the sporting event that was gaining popularity with the upper classes.

  "Lady Stafford believes she looks quite fetching in that bilious shade of green, when in actual fact it is simply retching!’’ Charlotte looked over her shoulder. "Now, where did that boy get to?’’ She had brought her eldest son to watch the cricket match.

  "Charlie is with his father,’’ Georgina assured her. "He’s at an age where being thought a mother’s boy is anathema.’’

  The ladies circled back to where they had left Lennox and Winchilsea, and found them conversing with a group of men who were obviously cricket enthusiasts.

  Suddenly, Georgina stopped in her tracks. Hell and damnation! The dark, dominant, and dangerous devil she had encountered yesterday was deep in conversation with her brother-in-law. The two spoke as if they were friends. They obviously know each other. The last thing I want is another encounter with the uncouth brute. She turned her head and adjusted her parasol so that the tall, dark male would not recognize her.

  "Is something wrong?’’ Charlotte asked.

  "I think I must have dropped my gloves back there somewhere. I’ll go and have a quick look, and catch up with you.’’

  Georgina walked back the way she had come, determined to put distance between herself and the authoritative male who had accosted her. The thudding of her heart in her eardrums was so loud that it blocked out the noise of the people in the crowd. Why are you running away? Only a coward would retreat, her inner voice accused. I’m not running away, she assured herself, I’m simply avoiding an unpleasant encounter. I cannot abide imperious, domineering males who think they have God-given dominion over females.

  Georgina did not return to her sister until Charlotte was sitting in the stands and the match was about to begin.

  "Did you find your gloves?’’

  "No. Perhaps I forgot to wear gloves today.’’ Her glance roamed the stands, surreptitiously searching for the dark man with the stern features. She finally spotted him standing close to the action. He had found an advantageous spot for his three sons to observe the game close-up. She deliberately moved her parasol to block him from her vision.

  During the match, Georgina found she could not concentrate on the game. Her mind kept wandering to the dark stranger, and she grew most annoyed that he drew her thoughts like a magnet. Though she felt intense dislike for him, she could not deny that her curiosity was piqued. She lost track of the runs, and at the end of the game she had no notion which team had won.

  "Charlotte, your husband played a first-class game.’’

  "Thank heaven the Sussex team won or there
would be no living with him tonight. Let’s find the carriage. Lennox and Winchilsea will be hobnobbing and celebrating for hours.’’

  Later that night, at dinner, Georgina tried to satisfy her curiosity. "Before the match today, I saw you talking with a big fellow with black hair,’’ she said casually.

  "I spoke with a lot of chaps,’’ Lennox acknowledged. "Can you be more specific?’’

  "He had rather dark, arrogant features. He appeared to have his young sons with him.’’

  "Ah, that was John Russell, Lord Tavistock. He’s the member of parliament for his district in Devonshire. He’s quite a forceful speaker—has a commanding presence on the floor of the House. He’s a sincere chap, with strong views. Seems to thoroughly enjoy representing the people.’’

  Forceful and commanding describe him to a T.

  "John Russell? He’s the Duke of Bedford’s younger brother,’’ Charlotte said. "The Russell brothers were orphaned at an early age, and brought up by their grandparents, the Marquis and Marchioness of Tavistock. Strange how dissimilar brothers can turn out to be. Marriage is anathema to Bedford, yet John couldn’t wait. Against his grandmother’s express wishes, he wed Elizabeth Byng in Brussels when he was only nineteen. He was a young ensign in the Foot-guards, and fought in Belgium.’’

  "Speaking of grandmothers, Elizabeth Byng’s grand-mere was a Lennox,’’ Charles remarked. "So John’s wife is a distant relative of mine.’’

  "Lud, I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire British aristocracy was related through intermarriage,’’ Charlotte said dryly.

  "Charlie is about the same age as John’s youngest. They got along so well today that I invited him to visit us. He’s taken a house for the summer close by on the other side of Dorset Fields.’’