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Authors: Cheryl Bolen

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BOOK: A Duke Deceived
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Relief washed over his face. “Then you’ll...?”
Bonny nodded. “I will talk to Emily and tell her what you have told me.”
He stepped toward Bonny and took her hand.
At that precise second, the drawing room door flew open so violently it banged against the wall, chipping the plaster and causing the crystal sconces to clatter.
Bonny turned to face her husband. Not that he looked like her husband at that minute. He looked more like a satyr. His eyes flashed angrily, his brows drew together, his face grew red as he thundered, “Get out of my house, Dunsford!”
Not taking his eyes from Radcliff, Dunsford snatched up his riding crop and wordlessly crossed the room.
When he walked by Radcliff, the duke said, “I would call you out if it would not utterly ruin my wife’s character. But let me warn you.” His voice shook. “If you ever see my wife again, I will kill you.”
“There must be some misunderstanding, Radcliff,” Dunsford said, pausing an arm’s length away from the angry duke. “I assure you I would do nothing to hurt your wife in any way.”
“My wife is no concern of yours.”
Dunsford swallowed hard, threw an apologetic glance at Bonny and left the house.
Radcliff’s eyes flashed at Bonny, then he kicked his boot against a nearby table and stormed from the room.
Bonny’s breath caught. She heard Radcliff order his bay to be brought around, and she ran from the room to try to talk with him.
“Richard, surely you don’t think—”
Radcliff cut her off. “Have I given you so many orders that you cannot remember one, Barbara?”
He watched her with cold eyes.
She swallowed. “No, sir, you haven’t.”
“Yet you allowed that man into my home.”
Mandley announced that Radcliff’s bay was mounted in front. Radcliff faced Bonny and gave her a hard look. “I have nothing more to say to you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
 
 
E
vans stood stiffly in front of Bonny. “You called, your grace?”
She put down the embroidery she had hardly touched. “Yes, Evans. I am very concerned about the duke. He hasn’t been home in four days. Please tell me if you know where he is.”
“I do not know, your grace.”
“You most probably would not tell me if you did know, would you?”
He inclined his head. “That is most likely true. As it happens this time, though, I share your concerns. I do not remember when his grace has been absent this many days. And he has no shaving things, nor a change of clothes.”
All manner of sordid possibilities had run through her mind, and in each instance, something dreadful had happened to her husband. Nearly convinced his throat had been slashed and his body dumped in the Thames, she had been unable to sleep or eat.
With constricted heart, she had directed the servants to unpack the portmanteaus. It was unlikely they would travel to Hedley Hall. If Radcliff came back that very day, he would hardly welcome a cozy coach journey with his wife, nor a lying-in with no one but her to keep him company.
When he had stormed from the house, Bonny’s insides had rocked and trembled like a mast bless ship on stormy seas. The malice in his words frightened her. There was more to his fury than a strong dislike of Lord Duns ford. He had threatened the man for seeing her. Then she remembered Lord Duns ford had been holding her hand when her husband walked into the room. Radcliff had given every indication of being in a jealous rage.
She considered this at length and decided he was indeed jealous, but not because he loved her. Proof that he did not love her were the far too frequent nights he stayed away from her. She was merely a possession, and the Duke of Radcliff would not tolerate any man touching his wife.
After she sorted out her thoughts, she lost her anger and turned remorseful. She should have listened to her husband. He had done so much for her and asked so little in return. After Richard had forbidden Lord Duns ford to cross the threshold of Radcliff House, she should have sent the earl away. If only she could turn back the clock.
But she could only cry into her pillow or her embroidered handkerchiefs and lament her sorrowful situation. She prayed for her husband’s safety and paced the floor, often stopping to press her face against the window glass to search the streets for signs of him.
“You are at liberty to make inquiries about his grace,” Bonny informed the valet.
Evans bowed, and she thought she detected a slight smile.
“Do you know the address of Mr. Twickingham’s lodgings?”
“Yes, your grace.”
“Perhaps he has seen Richard,” Bonny said absently, her eyes darting to the window at the sound of horses’ hooves.
As Evans left the room, Bonny peered out the window. She lifted the lace curtain and was once again bitterly disappointed. It was only Lord Sillsby’s groom bringing around his curricle across the square.
She dropped the lace and began to pace again. During the past four days she had been much too upset to leave Radcliff House for fear of missing her husband. She needed to speak to Emily about Lord Duns ford’s suit, but Emily would have to come to her.
Bonny crossed the study to her escritoire and penned a note asking Emily to call because she herself had been too unwell to pay calls. After she sealed the envelope, Bonny called for the page to deliver it to Cavendish Square.
 
While Twigs lined up four empty Madeira bottles on the game table, Radcliff glared into the fire.
“I say, Richard,” Twigs sniffed, “does Duchess know you’re here?”
“Do not concern yourself, my good man.”
“Bloody easy for you to say. Fact is, don’t like the way you treat her.”
Radcliff faced Twigs, his eyes hooded. “She cares not.”
“The deuce she don’t! Of course, you wouldn’t know. Off doing all manner of mischief, but I saw how much she worried over you. Nearly wore out those lace curtains in m’ room, lifting them to look for you, her sweet face shadowed with worry.”
“Then my plan met with some success,” Radcliff said smugly.
“Plan? You planned to make her mad with grief?”
“That is what I hoped.”
“’Pon my word, don’t understand a thing you utter.”
Radcliff picked up the
Gazette.
“It’s just as well.”
The latest dispatches of the battles in the Peninsula distracted Radcliff. Finally, he turned to Twigs, excitement leaping to his eyes. “Still want to buy colors?”
Twigs eyed his friend suspiciously. “Why?”
“I have a fancy to join you.”
Twigs dropped his full cup of coffee. “Can’t do that, my good man!”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not a younger son. Everyone knows only younger sons serve in his majesty’s army and navy. Besides, you’re a duke. Dukes don’t rise to arms.”
“The first Duke of Radcliff did. That’s how he got the title.”
“Different thing altogether.”
“They’re making Wellesley a duke. Says here he’s to be called the Duke of Wellington.”
“Still altogether different.”
“Will you join me?”
“Does Duchess know?”
“Why must you always bring her up?” Radcliff said angrily. Though, truly, his anger was vented as much at himself for giving in to the weakness of loving his duchess too dearly. He really must get away from her. Perhaps then he could cleanse her from his being. And how better could he leave her than under the cloak of patriotism? That way, his honor would be preserved, and she need never know of his weakness.
Perhaps he would be lucky enough to die a hero’s death in battle. Anything would be better than the torture of loving a woman whose heart belonged to another.
“You’d leave Duchess alone to have the babe? Why, she don’t even have parents to care for her,” Twigs said.
Radcliff crushed the newspaper and flung it into the fire. “If you’re so bloody worried about Barbara, why don’t you go take care of her?”
He stalked from the room, grabbed his hat and coat and began to walk about London aimlessly. Twigs was right to worry about Barbara’s confinement. Radcliff himself could not bear to think of her alone in her agony.
But what of his own private agony? How was he to hold another man’s babe in his arms and give it his name? His heart wrenched every time he pictured Bonny standing in the drawing room, the sun streaming through the window to highlight her glistening black hair. Then he turned cold when he pictured her taking Dunsford’s hands in hers. He would never forget the haggard look on Dunsford’s face. Bonny must have been saying goodbye to him before departing for Hedley Hall.
Radcliff knew Barbara’s parting with Duns ford would be their last. She was too good to continue such deceit. Although he should be happy he would now have a clear field, the victory was hollow.
For still she carried the baby that very likely might not be his own.
 
Twigs’s man, balancing a tray of empty wine bottles in one hand, opened the door to Evans.
“I say,” Evans said, “is my master, the Duke of Radcliff, within?” He counted five empty bottles and winced.
“He left just moments ago.”
Still eyeing the evidence of his master’s recent occupation with the bottle, Evans asked hopefully, “There was a large group of gentlemen here?”
The valet shook his head. “Only Mr. Twickingham and the duke.”
“Has his grace been here these four days?”
“Yes.”
Evans lowered his gaze. “I do not suppose that his grace has a fresh suit of clothing?”
The man shook his head.
“Or a shave?”
Another solemn shake of the man’s head.
Back on the sidewalk, Evans headed toward Radcliff House, his step slow, his mind a muddle. Wasn’t this the life he wanted for his master? The carefree bachelor, running rather wild with other fashionable rakes, leaving brokenhearted women in his wake? Bloody fun his set had always had.
But it no longer seemed so fun. Evans feared the liquor would ruin the young duke. And the thought of how many times of late his master had neglected his rather exceptional appearance quite rattled Evans. Not to mention how the duke’s careless grooming would reflect upon himself.
This would never do. The duke was too old to act the rake and too young to mimic a disoriented old man. His grace really should settle down. Got him a wife and a baby on the way. Why, he had no business sleeping in Mr. Twickingham’s lodgings when he had his own grand town house. And, God only knows, the duchess was besotted with him. He really should be kinder to her.
 
Within half an hour, the page returned to Bonny with a note from Emily informing Bonny that she regretted she was unable to leave Wickham House, for she had developed a mild case of spots. The note conveyed Emily’s displeasure over her cousin’s poor health and promises to come to Radcliff House as soon as her spots cleared.
Bonny quickly wrote a note to Lord Duns ford to inform him that she had been unable to talk to Emily. She absently started to ring for the page, then realized she could not use one of Richard’s servants to transport the letter to Duns ford.
Evans knocked on Bonny’s study door, then entered the room as she shoved Duns ford’s letter into a drawer of the escritoire.
She perceived a flicker of satisfaction on the valet’s granite face. “You have located my husband?”
“In a manner of speaking, your grace. He has been at Mr. Twickingham’s the past four days but had just departed when I arrived.”
Bonny clutched at her breast. “Thank God nothing has happened to him.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
“Nothing’s happened to whom?” Radcliff boomed from the door of his wife’s study.
Evans bowed and left the room as Bonny flew to her husband, but instead of throwing her arms around him as she wanted to do, she was startled by his stiff manner. If she did not love him so fiercely she would have been repelled by his appearance. Four days’ growth of a cinnamon-colored beard shadowed his craggy face. His clothes were wrinkled, his cravat carelessly tied. He smelled of stale liquor. Something in his eyes, in the grim set of his mouth, filled her with fright. For a flinch of a second she felt he stared death in the face, and her heart caught. Had she made him so miserable he didn’t wish to live any longer? She spoke in a soft voice. “I was very much afraid I was a widow, Richard.”
“Were you a merry widow, my dear?” he said lightly.
“Not at all, I assure you. I’ve been dreadfully worried about you.”
He strolled into the room and sat down at her desk, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You worry about everyone, my dear. It seems to be your purpose in life. If you aren’t worrying about Emily’s failing health or Twigs’s s mending leg, you’re wanting to adopt every street urchin you see. You must try not to worry so much.”
Bonny moved to the desk, placed her hands on her hips and spoke in a rising voice. “I am your wife. I am the Duchess of Radcliff, and I deserve the courtesy of you informing me when you
choose
not to come home. I will not live under your roof if you cannot accord me the simple consideration your wife is due.”
His eyes followed her as she stalked across the Aubusson carpet. “And I am very sorry I allowed Lord Duns ford into
our
house. I shall never do so again.”
He silently studied her for a moment, his face grim. Then his eyes flashed mischievously. “You look horrid, my dear.”
Bonny burst into tears.
Still angry, he restrained from going to her. Nevertheless, it wounded him considerably to watch her cry.
She started to leave the room, when he addressed her sternly. “Have you eaten today, Barbara?”
She rounded on him. “What would you care that I haven’t eaten in four days?”
“It does not please me for you to grow thin. I much preferred your body as it was when we married.”
Bonny snatched a nearby book and threw it at him, then left the room.
Radcliff chuckled and rang for Mrs. Henson to take his wife a tray. He planned to stand over her and force her to eat.
After he gave the housekeeper her instructions, he opened Bonny’s desk drawer to send a note round informing Twigs he had returned to Radcliff House. There he saw the letter with Duns ford’s name penned in his wife’s hand. He shoved the drawer back in, toppling a small Roman statue that stood at the desk.
BOOK: A Duke Deceived
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