When the Duke Returns(97)

“Ah, but I have known Beaumont nearly all the years of my life, and Cosway a mere dozen or so. I had no idea that you too were travelling and that Beaumont is alone. It behooves me to keep my appointments.”

“Is it because the two of you were estranged for so long?” Jemma asked. She turned to the marquise. “I think it is hardly a secret; my husband and Villiers were boyhood friends and then fell out over some foolishness when they were striplings.”

“Over a dog,” Villiers explained.

“Exactly! The stupidity of men never ceases to amaze me,” Jemma said. “At any rate, they have only recently mended their fences.”

“Naturally,” Villiers drawled, “I should hate to insult him in any fashion. Such a touchy fellow, your husband.”

“Elijah? Nonsense! I don’t believe this tarradiddle, Villiers, not for a moment. There must be something else…”

“Villiers remembered the sudden appointment after my question about his children,” the marquise said, raising an eyebrow.

“There is nothing there to make me return to London,” Villiers said. “Although…”

“I knew it,” Jemma said. “Out with it! What of those poor misbegotten children of yours, Villiers?”

“I promised a young woman who nursed me during my illness that I would take a more fatherly role than merely pay for their maintenance,” Villiers said, offering up the story as bait to distract Jemma.

“Goodness,” the marquise said. “She must have been a Puritan. What on earth did she expect you to do? Raise them yourself?”

“I believe,” Villiers said, taking a final sip of his tea, “that she meant just that.”

“An ill-bred notion,” the marquise said flatly. “Were you to take your bastards under your own roof, Villiers, you would have the greatest difficulty fixing an alliance with a respectable woman.”

He looked at her with a little smile in his eyes. “Do you really think so?”

“You’re challenging him,” Jemma said, laughing a bit. “Do go ahead, Villiers. Start your own orphanage and then announce your candidacy for marriage.”

“Those of the highest blood can be remarkably vulgar,” the marquise said, in a tone that suggested she was thinking of her own spouse.

“I suppose my vulgarity is evidenced by the existence of the children themselves,” Villiers said. “But I am giving serious thought to the question. An excessive regard for public opinion is not congenial to my sense of self.”

“Naturally the children must be well cared for,” the marquise said. “If they were not, it would be morally reprehensible on your part. But I see no duty that requires you to admit children of a base union   to your own household.”

Villiers merely smiled.

“I must be on my way,” the marquise said, coming to her feet. “I hope to make at least four hours in my journey before evening.”

They parted at the door, the innkeeper having cleverly placed wooden rondels as stepping stones to the three carriages.

“It’s too late for my boots,” Villiers said. He waited until the marquise was climbing into her carriage, and then leaned close to Jemma. “And I am sorry about that wooden pathway for other reasons as well.”

His breath stirred the hair at her ear and he saw her turn faintly pink.

“Goodbye,” she said, turning away. “Do give my best to Elijah.”

“I shall,” Villiers said. “I shall.”

He watched her all the way to her carriage door, but she didn’t look back.





Chapter Thirty-eight




Revels House

March 5, 1784

The house’s lack of odor was almost miraculous. Simeon walked through the front door taking deep breaths, and even opened the door to the downstairs water closet. The pit didn’t smell.

“Are the Dead Watch gone?” Simeon asked Mr. Merkin, who was pointing out the sparkling nature of said pit. “I gather that Mr. Bartlebee is walking again.”

“It will be a lesson to him,” Mr. Merkin said. As he would tell his wife later, it was none of his business how a duke of the realm protects his own property. “Now I’ve made a very pleasant discovery, Yer Grace.”

Simeon raised an eyebrow.

“The way your river runs down there,” Mr. Merkin explained, “I believe that we can simply divert a portion of it to flow continuously through the central pit. Revels House will have a drainage system like no other! Nary an odor, even on the rainiest of days!”

“Where will the flow emerge?” Simeon asked cautiously.

“We’ll dig a pit on the far side of the hill. In ten years, that will be the most fertile land in the duchy,” Mr. Merkin said, pulling down his waistcoat. “We’re replacing the rotten pipes with the very best, but I know that you and the duchess are of one mind on this, Yer Grace. Spare no expense, the duchess said to me. It may take a bit of an outlay, but this house will be odiferously pure!”