The Scoundrel Duke of her Heart by Violet Hamers

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ernest wrapped an arm about his grandmother’s shoulders and led her to a nearby bench. Jenny sat down beside her, taking her hand. The dowager’s knuckles turned white when she gripped Jenny’s Hand tightly.

She must be in a considerable amount of pain to grip her hand like that. Her gasps were loud and protracted. “We should take her home and call the physician. She once had difficulty breathing and I think it might be the same issue.” Ernest said. “I will carry her back to the carriage.”

He scooped the dowager up and marched in the direction of the carriage while Jenny and Daphne rushed behind him. Jenny was worried about the old woman. They had many differences but she did not wish to see her suffer. She did not wish to see anyone suffer.

Earnest placed her in the carriage, before turning to Jenny. "We should hurry,” he said, his eyes shadowed.

"I'll take care of her.” Jenny had begun to climb into the carriage when she remembered her friend. It was almost sundown and she did not want her return to her home to be delayed by the dowager’s condition. “Ernest, take Daphne home, please. I will take care of the duchess.”

He looked like he was not pleased with her request but he nodded and took Daphne’s arm. “I will meet you at the dowager’s house.”

“I can go home by myself, your grandmother needs you,” Daphne said and Jenny gave her a look.

“Your safety matters,” he said, leading her away from them and toward his horse. As the carriage rolled into motion, the dowager leaned into her seat and sighed, her coughs and gasps of air suddenly ceasing. Then she chortled.

Jenny blinked several times to understand her reality as the most impish grin spread across the dowager’s features. "What just happened? You are—"

"In extreme circumstances, extreme measures are often required,” she cut Jenny. “Let's see those two avoid each other now."

"Good heavens!" Jenny, equal parts relieved and shocked, found herself frowning at first then chuckling. "I never saw anything more convincing." She slumped in her seat, marveling at how impressive the dowager’s act had been.

"I knew you would choose to attend to me yourself and Ernest would be left to take her home. The plan was flawless.”

“It could have gone wrong,” Jenny said.

“I told you how stubborn that child is. Drastic measures must be put in place if we are to succeed." The dowager fanned herself. “This has been quite tiresome.”

"As impressive as your act has been, I must say that you were unfair. You had us worried.”

"Yes, well.” She allowed a small shrug. “That is not all, dear. I have someone watching at the Down Manor to witness their return. With a witness in hand, I can easily have rumors spread about Mr. Brighton and Miss Bexley."

“Why would you do something like that?” Jenny exclaimed.

“It is leverage should the match prove too difficult. I will only employ it when necessary.” The smugness on her face was enough to make Jenny believe she had a bit of madness in her.

"Ernest will have us both drawn and quartered if he ever finds out,” Jenny said.

“Oh, he won’t find out.”

* * *

“Have you heard the rumors, Your Grace?” Sarah asked, folding a thin strip of fabric and setting it down on the sofa beside Jenny.

“What rumors?” Jenny asked distractedly. She was perusing some dress catalogs Monsieur Raphael had had delivered to her to choose from for the upcoming ball she would be hosting as the Duchess of Seaton.

Mrs. Atwood had called upon her today and they were choosing the dress styles together in one of the small salons in the house. "The rumor about the Viscount of Down. His most recent scandal," Sarah replied.

"Is he not always embroiled in scandal, Sarah?" Mrs. Atwood asked.

"They say it is different this time. Bigger!" the girl announced, looking about the room as though to make sure they were alone before continuing. "Heard he's got someone with child."

"Good heavens!" Jenny’s attention had now been secured and she set down the catalog.

"That is not all, Your Grace. Also heard that it's a gently bred lady. There was a rumor that it was an opera singer but now we are sure it is a gently bred lady. Miss Bexley's lady’s maid, Polly, told me herself."

If one wanted news to travel fast, all one needed to do was tell a servant.

“We?” Mrs. Atwood raised her brows.

“Yes, ma’am, we, the servants, aware of the incident. We are trying to contain the rumors.”

“Certainly you are,” Jenny said with irony. “Do you know who the lady is, Sarah?"

"No, Your Grace. Polly won't tell."

"Poor Daphne." Mrs. Atwood sighed. Poor Daphne, indeed. If there was any truth in this rumor, it would devastate her. And there was no telling the blow her reputation was bound to suffer should the news travel further.

"The servants have been sworn to keep the news to themselves," Sarah continued.

"And a great job of it they are doing thus far. I should call upon Daphne now,” Jenny said, making to stand.

"Oh, but Miss Bexley does not know."

Jenny sighed, somewhat relieved that Daphne was unaware. She will learn of it and she will be pained by it but before then, she will keep her peace of mind for a little longer. Jenny wished to delay the news for as long as possible…if she could.

“No one should hear of this, Sarah,” she warned her. “Do you hear me? We need to contain this rumor.”

Sarah nodded her head with vigor. “Yes, Your Grace. I won’t tell a soul.”

“Good.”

“I still think I shoul—” A knock made Jenny’s shoulders tense. She was thankful the door was closed and someone had not heard their conversation. Sarah went to open the door. It was Mrs. Wells and she walked in with two maids bearing jewelry boxes of different sizes on large silver trays.

"The family jewels from the treasury, Your Grace," Mrs. Wells announced before directing the maids to set them down on the center table in front of Jenny. "His Grace has asked that they be delivered to you.”

“Why?” Jenny asked without thinking.

“He would like for you to wear something from the family collection for the ball,” Mrs. Wells explained.

He could have presented them to me himself,she thought, disappointment rearing its ugly head. Mrs. Wells dismissed the maids. “They are yours now, Your Grace.”

Did Nicholas ask you to say that?She almost asked. She thought he would handle something like this himself. She thought she was held in higher regard than that. Nevertheless, she traced curious fingers along the small ornate chests before settling on the smallest one and opening it.

The first object to catch her attention drew a loud gasp from her. Tucked between gems was one of her missing rocks. Jenny would know that rock anywhere because she had taken pains in cutting and polishing it. “What is this doing here?” Her question was directed at both Sarah and Mrs. Wells.

They were visibly confused. “I cannot say, Your Grace,” Mrs. Wells replied.

“This is one of my rocks. I collected it myself. I would know it anywhere.”

“I have never seen it.” Mrs. Wells said.

“Sarah?” Sarah’s eyes were wide with guilt. She knew something and was not telling Jenny.

“Sarah, if you know—” Just then, the door opened, and in walked her husband with a debonair grin on his face and wicked glint in his eyes. She had not seen him this cheerful in days.

"I think I can help with the mystery of the rocks," he said, nodding for the servants to leave them alone, then greeting Mrs. Atwood.

They exchanged a few pleasantries before she, too, left them. "You know about my rocks," Jenny stated, crossing her arms over her chest as her brows made a slow ascent.

That gesture drew his attention to her bosom, and she felt heat travel up from her chest to her cheeks. His eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. “Nicholas…my rocks. What do you know?” she said to draw his attention back to the matter at hand.

"I prefer to show you." A sly smile touched his lips and he held out his hand.

It was just a touch of their hands but Jenny felt the sensation at her core. She sucked in her breath and allowed him to lead her downstairs and through the conservatory to a locked door that Mrs. Wells had declared out of bounds on the Duke’s orders when Jenny had inquired about it in the earlier days of her marriage.

The housekeeper had mentioned the room having something to do with the late Duchess and as such, Jenny had set aside her curiosity and refrained from broaching the topic to Nicholas, knowing how sensitive he was to the memory of his mother. If he wanted her to know, he would tell her or show her eventually.

Nicholas pushed open the heavy doors to the sight of what looked like a laboratory. The entirety of the east wall was lined with shelves housing all of her missing rocks and even more exotic samples she didn’t recognize. There were also glass jars containing labeled soil samples. Another wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling shelves, stocked with all manner of books on geology and sciences.

“Nicholas,” she breathed, too awestruck to form a full sentence.

Her eyes found magnifying glasses of different sizes around the work table and other tools she could use in her. Some she had only seen sketches of in books. Jenny finally turned to face her husband, still at a loss for words.

"I thought you could use a workspace," Nicholas said, smiling down at her. "Do you like it?" The expectant to look in his eyes reminded her of when he had been younger and sought to be complimented after doing something good.

"I cannot believe that this is for me, Nicholas." She looked back at the bookshelves and rock and soil samples, committing the image to her memory. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with emotion. “No one has ever done this for me.”

"Every inch of it is yours." He took her hands in his. “And I am happy to be the first to do this for you.”

"Oh, Nicky!” She threw her arms around his neck. "I have no words."

"None needed,” he teased, drawing her closer against him. "Consider it a wedding present. I hope it is close to what you were expecting."

"Oh, I have not been expecting anything, Nicholas.” She pulled away and gazed up at him, all of her disappointments fading. “This is...this is magnificent."

"I am glad you like it,” he said. Jenny pulled away and began exploring the shelves and instruments while he leaned back against a table, watching her with a smile on his face. His posture of ease lightened her heart and she was momentarily torn between exploring her new laboratory and going to him.

"You had my rocks all along, did you not?"

"I made arrangements for them to be secretly removed from your things while they were being transferred.” He pushed off the table and walked toward her. "Poor Sarah truly had no clue,” he added with a chuckle.

Jenny laughed, not minding that he had tricked her. What he had done for her more than made up for it. "Mrs. Wells told me that this room is restricted."

"Yes, upon my instructions. Planning this and keeping it from you has not been easy. Several times, you walked in on our secret meetings."

"So that is what all the hushed whispers have been about!" Jenny grinned "I knew something was happening. I should have investigated."

“And risk ruining your surprise? I should think you are cleverer than that, Jenny.” He came to stand in front of her, tucking away a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear.

“I wouldn’t. Once Mrs. Wells said this place was your mother’s, I kept away.”

“I know. I asked her to say that. We used the times you were out of the mansion to do most of the work."

"How long have you planned this?"

"Since I rediscovered your love for geology. Before our wedding."

All the feelings that she had assiduously repressed surfaced anew right then, enveloping her heart in warmth like never before. Without thinking, she took hold of his lapels and drew him down to her. Nicholas immediately kissed her, his arms circling her waist, pulling her flush against him. His mouth moved over hers in a sensual rhythm that left her knees weak while her heart thundered in her chest.

"I should make you more laboratories if this is the reward I receive," he murmured against her lips before trailing small kisses down her jaw.

Be bold, Jenny, her mind’s voice called, reminding her of what her friend had told her. Nicholas wanted her and she could have him if she tried.

“I am your wife, Nicky,” she whispered. “You do not need to do something for me to receive a reward.” She hoped that would encourage him.

And it did. He picked her up and set her down on a table, settling himself between her legs. One hand sank into her hair and her eyelids fluttered with pleasure while the other played with the neckline of her dress. He kissed the base of her neck where her pulse throbbed before kissing lower and lower…

“Your Grace? Your solicitor is here.” Bentley called from outside the laboratory.