Chapter Seven

“F ather, if I’m going to be elected as the Member for Horsham, I warrant I’d better start campaigning.” Teddy Fox wanted to get away from Woburn. Abercorn’s presence made him uncomfortable, and if his parents learned of his intimate encounter with Georgy Russell, they would expect him to make an offer for her.

“I think that’s a sound idea,” Lord Holland agreed. “The Tories may already have someone running for the seat. In the past I’ve bought ale from William King, who owns a brewery in Horsham. If we get King and his employees stumping for us, it’s in the bag. You’ll need to be a resident of West Sussex. I’ll come along and lease a house for you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll go and start packing. Edward is coming to canvass with me.”

James Hamilton sought out the Duke of Bedford in the library. “I want to thank you for your generous hospitality, Your Grace. Much as I would enjoy spending the entire summer at Woburn, I have plans to visit Ireland before I return to Oxford. I promised to take my younger brother Claud to Barons Court. He has a consuming interest in politics. His ambition is to become a Member of Parliament for County Tyrone.”

“A Tory Member, no doubt,” Bedford teased.

“I’m afraid so, Your Grace. It’s in the Hamilton tradition.”

“James, I extend an open invitation. You are welcome at Woburn anytime.”

When Abercorn took his leave of the Duchess of Bedford, Georgy and Louisa were present. Both girls were relieved that he was departing, though for very different reasons.

“James, I hope you enjoyed your first visit to Woburn and devoutly hope that it won’t be your last. You have been a perfect guest. Not only did you make lifelong friends with the duke and Lord John, you gave my daughter her first kiss.”

Louisa felt her cheeks burn. She wished the floor would open up and swallow her. “Mother, a kiss is such an insignificant trifle.” Compared to the things your perfect guest has been doing with your other daughter.

“Ah yes, but a lady always remembers her first kiss,” the duchess insisted. “My husband tells me you’re off to Ireland. I have such fond memories of the time I spent there as vice queen.” Georgina laughed. “That sounds so deliciously wicked.”

Abercorn kissed her hand. “I deeply appreciate your generous hospitality.”

“I shall expect to see you in London at my daughters’ debutante ball in September, and you must bring your brother Claud. Until then, I shall bid you au revoir and Godspeed on your journey.”

He bowed politely and withdrew to bid his friend Charles good-bye.

“Why on earth did you invite him to our debutante ball?” Louisa demanded.

“Darling, we will need all the bachelors we can get. Two of them are departing today. That leaves only George Grey to practice your feminine wiles on.” She gave her daughter a look of speculation. “You must admit that James is handsome.”

Lu darted a glance at Georgy. “Yes. Sinfully handsome.”

The following day, the Russell family and their guests were enjoying brunch on one of Woburn Abbey’s shaded verandas. The Duke of Clarence had just been served with a brace of partridge he had bagged in the shoot that had been arranged in his honor. He hadn’t taken more than a few appreciative mouthfuls when Mr. Burke appeared with a courier in tow. The man was wearing royal livery.

The messenger bowed to the prince and handed him a missive.

Clarence tore it open and read the letter. His face, usually florid, turned ashen.

John Russell knew something untoward had happened. “Is it bad news, William?”

“I’m afraid it is.” The Duke of Clarence hesitated. “My brother—the king—has suffered an apoplexy. He is gravely ill. I’ve been summoned to Windsor without delay.”

“Oh, my dear, we must pack and leave immediately.” Princess Adelaide wrung her hands in distress.

John instructed Jack to have William and Adelaide’s carriage made ready.

“I shall have my maids assist you, my dearest Adelaide.” Georgina added, “And I’ll have a hamper of partridges packed for your journey.”

After Georgina had instructed her servants and her daughters to help the Duchess of Clarence prepare for her journey to Windsor, she took the courier to Woburn’s kitchen and plied him with food and drink. She was a man’s woman and prided herself on being able to loosen the tongue of any male breathing.

“I am so sorry you were given the dreadful task of delivering bad news to the Duke of Clarence. These difficult duties are always assigned to those who are the most worthy of trust. The king—dear Prinny—has been an intimate friend of mine all my life. Do you believe he will recover from this cruel attack he has suffered?”

The messenger finished his ale and bent toward her confidentially. “Under the circumstances, Your Grace, that would be impossible.”

She refilled his tankard and set another roast partridge before him. “Eat up, my friend. This is likely the last meal you will get today.”

Georgina went directly to her husband. “I believe George is already dead.”

“If you are correct, my dear, we have just entertained the new king and queen of England.”

Discreetly, Georgina passed along the momentous news she had gleaned to her children and her guests. By the time the Duke and Duchess of Clarence descended the stairs, the company was gathered in Woburn’s main foyer to bow low and bid a respectful adieu to the royal couple who were now in actuality the reigning king and queen of England.

Within the hour the Duke of Bedford, Lord John, and Earl Grey were conferring in the library.

“If what we believe is true and King George is actually dead, it means an automatic election,” the duke declared.

Lord John nodded. “Now is our chance to put the Whigs in power.”

“We’ve all supported Wellington and his Tories, but all that must change now. We must strike while the iron is hot.” Earl Grey, who had sat in Parliament since he was twenty-two, cleared his throat. “If I run for prime minister, can I count on your support, gentlemen?”

“Absolutely,” Bedford agreed.

“Because the Whigs support reform, we stand an excellent chance of winning.” Johnny Russell was convinced they must seize the moment.

“Too bad our friend Henry and his son left yesterday. I’ll write him a letter and dispatch a messenger immediately,” the duke decided.

The Russell ladies, Lady Holland, and Lady Grey repaired to the blue drawing room. They were all politically savvy, and the Duchess of Bedford, as the leading Whig hostess, realized that King George’s death could put their party in power.

“Though we must all regret poor Prinny’s demise, fortune has indeed smiled upon us. The close relationship we forged over the last few days with King William and Queen Adelaide is bound to reap us rewards.” Georgina poured wine for everyone.

Mary Grey leaned forward. “I tell you this in confidence, ladies. My husband has entertained ambitions to become prime minister for some time. Now, out of the blue, an election will be called.”

Lady Holland could not suppress her excitement. “If the Whigs win the election and Teddy wins the seat from Horsham, both my husband and son will be majority Members of Parliament.”

“And it cannot hurt that they will be close friends of both the prime minister and King William,” Georgina added.

“Johnny’s standing will rise considerably,” Louisa pointed out happily. “He will stand a very good chance of getting the reform bill passed.”

Georgy listened to the ladies’ congratulatory chatter with a look of angry disbelief. “What about me?” she demanded. “Prinny’s demise will throw the Court into mourning. Once again my season will have to be postponed because someone died!”

“It is dreadfully inconvenient, darling,” her mother said with sympathy. “The Court will observe a formal mourning period, but I warrant the ton won’t forgo balls and entertainments longer than three months. The coronation of the new king and queen won’t likely take place until next spring. But only think . . . after that you will be able to attend Queen Adelaide’s drawing rooms at St. James’s Palace. When it becomes known that you are a personal friend of the queen, suitors will absolutely fawn on you.”

Somewhat mollified, Georgy lowered her voice and spoke to her sister. “We’ll be going to King George’s funeral. I’ll get to see Teddy Fox again.”

“Teddy? I thought you had set your cap for James Hamilton,” Louisa said coolly.

Georgy tossed her head. “My only interest in Hamilton was getting my diamonds back.”

Louisa’s heart skipped a beat. Damn you to hellfire, Abercorn!

Damn you to hellfire, Aberdeen! This estate belongs to me, thanks to my grandfather. James Hamilton rode into the courtyard of Bentley Priory at Stanmore on the outskirts of London. His stepfather had treated the priory as if he owned it, turning it into a gathering place for Tory politicians . I shouldn’t feel resentment. At least it provides my mother with a lovely home.

“James! I’m so glad to see you.” Eighteen-year-old Claud patted Shammar’s neck and led his brother into the stable. “Did you enjoy your visit to Woburn?”

“I enjoyed it immensely. I got on extremely well with the Duke of Bedford and his son Lord John.” James dismounted and allowed his younger brother to tend his horse. “How’s Mother?” When he had last seen her at Christmas she had not yet recovered from giving birth a month earlier. It was the fourth son Aberdeen had fathered on her.

“Frail looking, I’m afraid. But she’s enjoyed my visit, mainly because I don’t allow our ugly stepsisters to abuse her.”

“By God, they’d better not start while I’m here.” At the priory there were three factions of sibling rivalry—Aberdeen’s two surviving daughters from his first marriage, Harriet’s two sons, James and Claud, from her first marriage, and four sons from the couple’s second marriage. James thought about the Russell family. He envied the deep affection shared by the siblings and their parents.

The two brothers entered the priory together.

“James, what a lovely surprise,” his mother cried.

He enfolded her in his arms. Frail looking is an understatement. He smiled into her eyes, masking the concern he felt. “How are you feeling, Mother?”

“I’m feeling stronger every day, James. I’m so happy to have you for a few days. After dinner, you must tell me all about your visit to Woburn Abbey.”

He could not help comparing her with Georgina Russell. The Duchess of Bedford was vibrant and blooming with health. She is brimful of wit and laughter, no doubt because she is deeply loved by her husband. He silently cursed Aberdeen.

At dinner, Aberdeen’s daughters contributed little to the conversation. When they did speak, their manner was petulant. James noticed how thin and colorless they appeared. Their appetites were sparse and he suspected the eldest was consumptive.

After dinner, Claud invited his brother to join him in a visit to the public house in Stanmore village. “The evenings here are an exercise in endless endurance. At least at the pub you get a helping of laughter and music with the ale.”

“I’ll come tomorrow night. I’d like to spend the evening with Mother. Our brothers’ term at Harrow is finished for the summer tomorrow, and once they arrive home they’ll demand all her attention.”

“You mean our half-brothers. For all their superior airs at being educated at Harrow, they can’t hide their jealousy of you. Perhaps we should lure them to the pub and get them stinking drunk.”

“That would give Aberdeen an excuse to thrash the devil out of them.”

Claud waggled his dark eyebrows. “Why do you think I suggested it?”

“Go and enjoy yourself.” James was thankful his younger brother had a fun-loving Irish temperament.

James waited until his mother had fed baby Arthur and put him to bed, and then he joined her in her private sitting room. She listened raptly as he described Woburn Abbey and the endlessly fascinating Russell family.

“Do the Duke and Duchess of Bedford have a happy marriage?”

James heard the wistful tone in her voice and it pierced his heart. He decided not to paint the Russells’ marriage in brilliant colors.

“They tolerate each other well enough. He overlooks her extravagance and turns a blind eye to her admirers.”

“That’s because he loves her. Just as your father loved me.” She sighed and then leaned forward and said earnestly, “James, promise me you will never marry without love. Marriage can be difficult even at the best of times, but when you are starved for love and affection, it eats your heart and deadens your soul.”

He squeezed her hand. “That’s an easy promise to make.” I made my choice a long time ago. Lady Lu pretends complete indifference to me, but the kiss told me all I need to know. Her innocence and vulnerability are irresistible to me.

“You have found someone?”

“Let us say that I have my eye on a certain lady.”

“James, you are so young. You won’t do anything impetuous, will you?”

“Of course not. At least not until I come of age,” he teased.

She smiled tenderly. “You are my firstborn and therefore very special to me. Because you lost your father at such an early age, you were forced to mature early, far beyond your years. I am grateful that you are like a father to Claud. The woman you marry will be a very lucky lady.”

When the three brothers arrived home from Harrow the next day, they brought momentous news. “King George is dead! Our headmaster got the news this morning from Windsor Castle.”

“Poor man,” Harriet said with sympathy. “That means the Duke of Clarence will be crowned king. James, didn’t you tell me he was a guest at Woburn?”

“Yes. For a royal prince, William was very down to earth. I quite liked the man. When I danced with Princess Adelaide a few days ago, I had no notion she would soon be queen of England.”

James’s half-brothers glared daggers at him. They already envied him his athletic physique and his titles. Now they were chagrined that he was a friend of the new king and queen of England.

James caught Claud’s eye. The two brothers, well versed in politics, knew the turmoil Prinny’s death would cause in government circles. The pair went outside so they could speak in private.

“Won’t the king’s death trigger an automatic election?”

“Yes. Wellington’s Tories will have to run for reelection,” James confirmed.

“Since Aberdeen is foreign secretary, won’t that mean he’ll lose his office?”

“For the time being, at least. He’ll have to run for reelection and his temper will be foul. The Whigs will give the Tories a run for their money, I can tell you.”

“I don’t want to be here when Aberdeen arrives. I cannot tolerate the overbearing bastard. Can’t we leave for Ireland?” Claud pleaded.

“I hate to leave Mother to bear the brunt of his temper. And we should attend the king’s funeral. Try to be patient.”

That night, James’s mother broached the subject of her husband’s return to Bentley Priory. “Aberdeen will be furious at losing his office and consumed with worry that the Whigs will win a majority and form the next government.”

“Have no fear. I won’t allow him to vent his temper on you, Mother.”

“Actually, James, I think there would be less tension if you and Claud weren’t here. I am well aware that Bentley Priory is yours, but so is Aberdeen. The underlying currents would fill the very air with strife. Not only his daughters, but also his sons would take sides against you in any disagreement.”

“I am a match for them, Mother. The odds don’t trouble me in the least.”

“But it would be less stressful for me, James.”

He felt his throat tighten. “Of course. How insensitive of me.” James enfolded his mother in his arms. He thought of Prinny’s funeral. He knew Louisa would be there and regretted that he would not see her. “Claud and I will leave for Ireland tomorrow.”