72. The Impetuous Duchess Read online

  He leant back in the corner of the carriage and closed his eyes, but even in repose he still looked angry.

  Jabina, after glancing at him apprehensively, decided to keep the silence he had demanded of her.

  On and on they went for what seemed an unending period of time until finally, just when the sun was sinking, they drew up at a Posting inn that even at a glance looked superior to the others they had called at.

  The innkeeper’s wife, a woman of perhaps fifty, sensed that they were ‘quality’ as soon as they appeared and ushered them into a private parlour where a huge log fire was burning in the grate and there were comfortable armchairs facing the hearth.

  “You’ll be a-wantin’ two chambers, sir, I gather, for you and your sister,” the woman said to the Duke having taken a quick glance at Jabina’s left hand and seeing no ring.

  “Yes, yes! That’s exactly what we require,” the Duke replied quickly.

  “There be two on the first floor that’ll suit you admirably,” the woman said. “If you’ll come with me, miss, I’m sure you would like to wash and tidy up afore supper, which’ll be served immediate.”

  Knowing that country folk dined at five o’clock, Jabina meekly followed the innkeeper’s wife upstairs to find two pleasant low-ceilinged rooms with comfortable beds and chimneypieces where fires were quickly kindled.

  Hot water was brought and, after Jabina had washed and changed her gown, she went somewhat hesitatingly down the polished oak stairs to the parlour.

  She noticed that the Duke had changed his cravat and his travelling clothes and now wore another of the plain dark coats that she found reminiscent of a Minister of the Kirk rather than of a gentleman of fashion.

  He was drinking a glass of brandy when she appeared and rose perfunctorily to his feet only to sit down again as she drew nearer to the fire holding out her small hands to the blaze.

  “The innkeeper’s wife,” he said at length, “thought that you were my sister and I think in the circumstances that it would be wise to let such an impression stand. The servants unfortunately have already told her my name, so it would be best for her to think for the short time we are here that that is our relationship.”

  Jabina had no chance of saying anything in reply, for at that moment the door was opened and the supper was brought in.

  It was surprisingly good.

  Instead of the tough mutton that was usually served at Posting inns, there was a tender sirloin of beef, fat pigeons stuffed with mushrooms, an uncut ham and brawn of which the Duke had a second helping.

  There was also a choice of sweetmeats and puddings, followed by three cheeses, the best one being made from goat’s milk.

  From his cellar the landlord produced a bottle of claret, which the Duke found quite palatable and by the end of the supper Jabina felt that he must now be in a more pleasant mood.

  She was, however, not certain, for there was still a frown between his eyes as he looked at her and, whilst his face was no longer contorted with rage, she thought that there was an ominous squareness about his chin and a firmness about his mouth that still made her feel apprehensive.

  When at last the supper was finished and the table cleared, the Duke rose to sit at the fireside with a glass of wine in his hand.

  Somewhat nervously Jabina took the chair opposite him.

  “And now,” he said with a sharp note in his voice, “I suppose we shall have to discuss this intolerable situation we find ourselves in.”

  “I-I am – sorry,” Jabina said again.

  “I must admit to finding it almost incomprehensible,” the Duke said, “that you should have overlooked such an obvious outcome of your lies once you had made them.”

  He was still extremely incensed, Jabina thought with a sinking of her heart.

  “I had – forgotten about the – law.”

  “You knew about it?” the Duke asked.

  “Y-yes,” Jabina answered, “but I have never actually known anyone who was Married by Declaration and, when I told Lady McCairn we were married, I just said it without – thinking.”

  “With disastrous results!”

  “It must be – possible to free – ourselves of each other,” Jabina murmured.

  “Perhaps there is another law which makes that possible,” the Duke suggested, “or is that also something you have forgotten?”

  “I cannot think now why I said it,” Jabina said almost pleadingly. “It was just that, when I saw her looking at me with those beady eyes, I could not think of any other explanation of our being together and it just – came to my lips.”

  “You are quite certain you did not do it deliberately?” the Duke enquired.

  For a moment Jabina did not understand what he was saying. Then a flush rose in her cheeks.

  “Do you really think,” she retorted with some spirit, “that I wanted to be married to you? Even if you are a Duke, you are not at all the sort of man I would wish to marry. You are far too dull and disagreeable! And, if it comes to that, far too old!”

  She thought that the Duke looked at her with contempt and was stung into adding rudely,

  “It’s no use being a Duke if you are just a stick-in-the-mud! I cannot imagine any girl wanting you as her husband!”

  “Well, I certainly have no wish to be married to you!” the Duke rejoined angrily.

  The temper that he had kept under control all day seemed to boil over, so that he could no longer prevent himself from continuing,

  “An irritating, impulsive half-witted chit is not the type of wife I require. Of that I can assure you!”

  He spoke so loudly that his voice seemed to echo round the room and Jabina sprang to her feet.

  “How dare you speak to me like that!” she said, her voice was furious as he had been.

  “It might do you good to hear the truth for once!” the Duke snapped. “I can assure you that you have nothing to be conceited about nor have you a priority in insults!”

  Jabina made a sound half of fury and half of exasperation and ran out of the parlour.

  She slammed the door behind her so violently that the bottles rattled together on the sideboard and a picture that hung on a side wall fell crashing to the ground.

  The Duke rose to his feet and then sat down again to stare disconsolately into the fire.

  ‘What is the point of raging?’ he asked himself.

  All the insults and abuse they might hurl at each other’s heads would not undo the fact that they were legally married.

  He could not imagine two people who were more incompatible.

  Jabina had said that there must be a way out. He certainly hoped there was. He would have to find a lawyer and take legal advice on the matter.

  He visualised a long series of meetings and arguments and of lawyers contradicting and opposing each other.

  He was appalled at the thought of the publicity it would evoke and could imagine the laughter of his friends. How amused they would be!

  “Poor Drue! Caught at last!” they would cry.

  It would be a magnificent jest to recount how he had been ensnared into marriage when he was least expecting it, and not by one of the Socialites who had angled for him in the past, but by an unknown Scots wench no one had even heard of.

  ‘The only thing I can do is to behave with dignity,’ the Duke thought.

  He felt somewhat ashamed that he had let his temper get the better of him when he had raged at Jabina.

  But she had needled him once too often by telling him what he knew already – that he was dull and the description of his being ‘stuck-in-the-mud’ was the last straw!

  “You are in a rut! Your life is monotonous! You will become a bore!”

  How often had Freddie and his other friends repeated those warnings!

  And now he had been told it again by a mere slip of a girl.

  ‘What does it matter if it is true?’ the Duke asked himself, but somehow he could not find a convincing reply to his own question.

  R
ealising that his glass was empty, he crossed the room to fill it again from the bottle that had been left on the sideboard. That too was empty!

  Impatiently he dragged at the bell-pull and after a moment the door opened and the innkeeper’s wife stood there.

  “Ask your husband to bring me another bottle of wine,” the Duke ordered.

  “Very good, Your Grace,” the woman answered then added reprovingly, “’tis not right that a young lady should be a-goin’ out in the cold at this time of the night. She’ll get her feet wet and there’re some unsavoury characters a-hangin’ around the taverns.”

  The Duke stared at her incredulously.

  Then he asked,

  “Are you telling me that my – s-sister has gone for a walk?”

  “I sees her with me own eyes a-goin’ down the street some minutes ago,” the innkeeper’s wife replied. “Your Grace shouldn’t allow it.”

  The woman spoke in the stern tones of a Nanny reproving an older child for not attending to a younger one.

  The Duke rose to his feet.

  “I will fetch her back.”

  Outside the parlour door his fur-lined cloak was hanging on a hook where it had been placed when he first arrived.

  As he took it down, he noticed that the dark cape that Jabina had been wearing was missing.

  He then opened the door of the inn.

  Immediately there was a rush of cold air against his face and he realised that the wind, which had abated a little during the day, was now blowing hard again and it was very cold.

  He stepped out into the street.

  It was narrow with a few scattered houses built haphazardly on either side of it and several shops that were now closed and shuttered. At the top of the village was the Kirk.

  A little way along the road were several brightly lit windows that the Duke guessed were cheap taverns where the local inhabitants did their drinking.

  The road was rough and slippery under foot.

  The Duke set off in the direction that he felt Jabina must have gone and, after walking some little way, he thought in the darkness ahead that he could see two figures.

  As he looked towards them, he heard Jabina scream.

  *

  On leaving the parlour, Jabina had been in such a temper that she had decided in her usual impulsive fashion that she would leave the Duke and never see him again.

  She had felt insulted and humiliated because he had refused to speak to her all day and then, when he had raged at her, she felt suddenly that she could bear it no longer.

  She hated him! She certainly had no intention of staying to listen to his insults and indeed why should she?

  She had come into his life by sheer chance. She would now leave it and whether they were married or not they need never see each other again.

  She was well aware of the value of her mother’s jewellery and, when she had changed her dress, she had pinned it inside the fresh gown.

  She knew it could be dangerous to leave it in her bedroom and Jabina was cautious enough to have no intention of parting from her one source of wealth until she was safe in her aunt’s home.

  In her reticule she carried the fifteen pounds, which were still intact, having removed them from the leather bag she carried in the daytime and which she put under her pillow at night.

  She was conscious of the fact that travellers on the open road and indeed even guests in private houses had their valuables stolen from them either at night when they were asleep or by more violent methods during the day.

  For the first time in her life Jabina felt independent. She had never in the past handled any money of her own, for her father felt that there was no necessity for her to have any.

  Fifteen pounds seemed to her an enormous sum and she was speculating that her mother’s jewellery, which included a number of quite large stones, would be worth what was to all intents a small fortune.

  She would therefore not arrive empty-handed to live with her aunt and perhaps it was the French part of her blood that made her certain that this was important.

  No one wanted an impoverished young woman thrust upon them, but one who could pay her way would be welcome and at least not have to play the part of an encumbrance.

  Outside the parlour door Jabina had snatched up her travelling cape and thrown it over her shoulders.

  Pulling the hood over her head, she had opened the door of the inn and stepped into the street.

  Like the Duke she had felt the sharpness of the wind like a blow, but she was too angry to be checked by anything so trivial.

  Neither did she remember that she was not wearing the stout shoes she had travelled in, but a pair of satin slippers held elegantly across the instep by a single strap that fastened with a small diamanté buckle.

  The coldness of the frost seemed to rise up from the ground and grab her like an icy hand around her ankles.

  Jabina was almost running in her eagerness to get away from the inn and from the Duke, warmed for a moment by the flames of anger inside her and the sound of his jeering disagreeable voice echoing in her ears.

  She walked the whole length of the village street.

  She passed the Kirk and was setting off down the road, which seemed to stretch away into an endless darkness, when she heard raucous laughter coming from the lighted window of a house standing back a little from the roadside.

  A door opened to admit a tall figure wearing a kilt.

  Jabina just glanced in the direction of the man leaving what was obviously a tavern and hurried on.

  It was not completely dark, for there was a pale moon creeping up the sky and the stars were already brilliant.

  She had not gone very far when she heard footsteps behind her and a voice asked,

  “Whither awa, lassie?”

  She turned her head and saw the tall Scot a few paces behind her and decided not to reply.

  He caught up with her in three strides.

  “I asked you a question,” he said, “and I expects a civil answer.”

  She knew by the slurring of his voice and the smell of spirits on his breath that he had been drinking heavily.

  She tried to move faster, but with his long legs he easily kept pace with her.

  “Will you no give a poor man a penny or two for a drink?” he enquired.

  “I should think you have had enough already,” Jabina replied.

  “I’ve had but one ale,” the man cried. “Och, dunna be hard hearted! Help a countryman in distress.”

  Thinking that she might be rid of him more easily, Jabina stood still.

  “If I give you the price of a drink,” she asked, “will you leave me alone?”

  “Och aye. I’ll do that,” he answered. “All I ask is that I can wet me whistle.”

  Jabina opened her reticule.

  She remembered that besides the fifteen pounds she also had a sixpenny piece and a fourpenny bit that had been lying loose in the housekeeper’s money box.

  She was feeling for them with her hand inside the reticule, when suddenly the bag was snatched from her.

  “I’ll have it noo,” he said thickly. “I canna be a-waitin’ all night.”

  “No! No!” Jabina cried, clutching at her bag, but it was too late. He had it in his hands.

  Now, as she screamed at him, he started running down the road away from her, moving so quickly that there was no chance of her catching him.

  “Stop! Stop!” she screamed and, in trying to run, she slipped and fell down on the hard ground.

  “Stop!” she screamed again.

  Then someone was pulling her to her feet and she realised that it was the Duke.

  “That man has taken my reticule with all my money in it,” she cried. “Catch him! Please catch him!”

  “I doubt if anyone could catch him now,” the Duke replied. “What the devil do you think you are doing coming out here alone?”

  “I was – going away.”

  “How can you be so ridiculous?” the Duke asked. �
�Come back to the inn.”

  “But I have no money,” she said plaintively. “That man snatched it from me.”

  “What did you expect if you walk about the streets in the middle of the night?”

  “I was going to give him sixpence,” Jabina murmured.

  The Duke had turned her round to face the inn and now, with his arm around her shoulders, they walked back together, finding it hard to keep their footing on the slippery ground.

  Finally they reached the inn.

  As they opened the door, it was to find the innkeeper’s wife standing in the passage.

  She took one look at Jabina’s white unhappy face and then ushered her into the parlour.

  “Your feet are soaked through,” she said scoldingly. “Now sit down in front of the fire, my Lady, and get warm. I’ll bring you a hot toddy, otherwise you’ll be down with a chill tomorrow as sure as I’m standin’ here.”

  Meekly Jabina did as she was told. She felt her cloak taken from her and then looked down at her feet to see that her satin slippers were saturated from the snow and frost.

  She suddenly realised how cold she was and, as she bent forward to unfasten the strap over her instep, it seemed impossible to make her small fingers do what she required of them.

  “Let me do it,” the Duke offered.

  Suddenly he knelt down beside her and was undoing the strap. He took off the first slipper and saw that the stockings beneath it were also wet.

  “Slip off your stockings,” he suggested. “You will catch a frightful cold otherwise.”

  Obediently Jabina lifted the hem of her dress and rolled down her stocking from where it was held by a rather frivolous small blue garter beneath the knee.

  The Duke pulled the stocking from her foot and then turned his attention to the other one.

  As he unfastened the strap and Jabina pushed down her stocking, he felt something warm and wet fall on his hand.

  It was followed by another tear.

  When he had taken off the second stocking, he lifted Jabina’s small foot into his hands. It was very small and pretty, but it was icy cold against the warmth of his fingers.

  It had a high aristocratic instep and each small toe was slightly pink at the end. He rubbed it vigorously and then turned to the other foot.