“I’ve no wish to cause you any aggravation, your grace, especially as matters stand. I shall endeavour to bother you as little as possible whilst I’m here.”
Whatever could he mean? Then she saw his eyes resting on her bump, she had forgotten to disguise her pregnancy. Too late to repine, she must try and make him feel wanted in spite of the fact he now knew his position as the duke’s heir was possibly to be of short duration.
“My husband, when he set about the search for you, did not know I was in an interesting condition. We both believed we would not be blessed with children. By the time we realized, the lawyers had contacted you.”
This feeble exclamation was the best she could do. He would no doubt draw the correct conclusion, that they had been estranged at the time which was why her pregnancy had been a surprise to Alexander.
He accepted the information with equanimity. “I’m more than delighted for you both. To tell you the truth I never really expected to inherit the title. However, his grace has seen fit to set up a generous annuity for me and for that I am extremely grateful. This means I can live comfortably and mix in the highest circles, something that would not have been possible if the lawyers had not discovered me.”
“I’m glad you’re not disappointed by the news. Whatever happens both Alexander and I shall consider you a member of the family in future.” What had prompted her to say such a foolish thing? The very last thing she needed at the moment was someone else watching the disintegration of her marriage. It would be impossible to hide from him her intention to depart after the baby was born. If the child turned out to be a girl, how would things be then?
He bowed, looking decidedly silly in his dishevelled state. “I thank you, your grace. I’ve no close family of my own. In future I shall consider Cousin Alexander and yourself as my dearest relatives.”
This embarrassing conversation was brought to a halt by the appearance of Duncan. “Your grace, I’ve found some garments that will do for Mr Bentley. Shall I act as his man for the present?”
“Yes, that would seem a sensible solution. Mr Bentley, if you would care to go with Duncan, he will take care of you.”
The unkempt young man followed the immaculate valet disconsolately. No doubt he was anticipating with some dismay what he would be obliged to wear for the foreseeable future. Duncan must have discovered items Alexander had worn in his youth, nothing he possessed at the moment would do, he was a head taller and almost double the width of his erstwhile heir.
The ride back to London was decidedly unpleasant and Alexander and his two grooms were more than grateful to dismount in the stable yard behind his palatial home. The head stable lad appeared to take the reins of his mount.
“He will need walking to cool down, also check his tendons carefully, it was sticky going.”
Leaving Rufus to be taken care of he limped to the side entrance surprised word of his arrival had not reached the house. He stepped in to come face-to-face with Foster.
“Your grace, I must apologise for not being here to welcome you. We did not expect you back today.”
The butler made it sound as if he was remiss by not sending word ahead of his arrival at his own home. He stared frostily and Foster recoiled unused to such treatment. “I shall need someone to act as my valet, Duncan is elsewhere.”
“I will see to it, your grace. We have several suitable footmen who can act as your man until Duncan returns. Shall you be requiring luncheon?”
“Soup and fresh bread and cheese will be sufficient. Have it sent up to my chambers, I shall eat there whilst I wait for my bath to be drawn.”
He was halfway up the staircase when he recalled Bentley must be in residence somewhere. “I wish to speak to Bentley, have him come to my study one hour from now.”
“I’m sorry, your grace, but Mr Bentley isn’t here. We thought he was with you at Newcomb.”
God dammit! Surely he should have made his way to Grosvenor Square by now? He was no doubt waiting for the roads to clear and would be along later today to annoy him. “He must have been obliged to stay somewhere en route. Make sure his apartment is prepared, he will be here shortly.” The butler hovered as if he had something on his mind. “Well, what’s wrong?”
“Your grace, there have been three letters delivered for Mr Bentley; I have put them in his rooms.” Foster shifted from one foot to the other. “I must also report that two unsavoury characters called demanding to speak to him. They were sent about their business but I fear Mr Bentley might have fallen in with some rogues.”
Alexander frowned. He’d been correct in his first assessment of the situation. Bentley had, in a few short weeks he’d been mixing in Society, got himself in financial difficulties. “Thank you for bringing the matter to my attention, Foster. I shall speak to Bentley when he returns.”
If the wretched man wasn’t in Grosvenor Square by tomorrow he would have to send someone out to look for him. The young man might be irritating, and from the looks of it was going to be a serious drain on his purse, but he was his responsibility. He could not allow his putative heir to languish somewhere without offering assistance. He was damned if he was going to make the journey again himself, he’d done enough gallivanting these past few days after that particular person.
There was no sign of either his valet or Bentley the next day. What could be keeping them? The toll roads were fit to travel on, the weather was clement and he could see no impediment to their return. By the next morning he was concerned so when Foster arrived with a letter sent express he hoped it was news of the missing pair. He did not recognize the writing. Impatiently he broke the seal and read the contents.
Dear Alexander,
I do hope that you returned safely and have suffered no ill effects from your travel. I am writing to ask for your assistance. Mr Bentley was robbed of all his possessions
whilst benighted at a disreputable roadhouse. He made his way back here and I’ve no idea what to do with him.
I’ve discovered a local tailor who is endeavouring to make him something fresh to wear, but Mr Bentley’s requirements are too stringent and I fear the outcome won’t be
successful for either party.
Mr Bentley has taken the news of our happy event with good grace. I am in a quandary as to how to proceed for the best. I shall eagerly await your advice.
With kindest regards
your wife,
Isobel.
He slammed the letter down on the desk. What a disaster! He had no option but to rout out Bentley’s tailor and drag the unfortunate man down to Newcomb along with his samples and pattern books. He could hardly blame his cousin for being robbed, but it was a damned nuisance nevertheless. He had no wish to return to his country estate. He was unwelcome there and his presence would only exacerbate the rift between himself and Isobel. Only time and separation might mend the damage his appalling behaviour had caused to the marriage.
Thoughtfully he picked up the letter and examined it again more closely. This was the first missive he’d received from her. The note was hardly a billet doux, but on the other hand she had addressed him by his given name and was asking him for help. He ran his fingertip around the loops and whorls - her writing was a revelation to him. It showed a flamboyance he’d not suspected in his wife. How many more things would he learn before he truly knew her?