Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

IIt’s a filthy lie!

But Elizabeth’s mind flew back to what Maria had said: I’ve had a viscount, an earl, a marquis, and a duke. She had thought these were preposterous fabrications, but now she realized that the duke Maria was boasting about being intimate with was Hamilton! She stalked from the ballroom intent on confronting him. Her intense glance swept each room as she hunted for him. Then suddenly she saw him enter the library with a tall, thin man who looked like Coventry. Poor George, cuckolded by his closest friend!

When she reached the library door, she was arrested by raised voices. Hamilton and Coventry were having a terrible row. Because her anger was so hot, she did not hesitate to listen.

“Goddamn it, you’d better stay away from her!” Coventry shouted.

“Once I bagged her, my interest ceased,” Hamilton declared.

“It all began with that bloody wager we made to see which of us would be first to bed one of the Gorgeous Gunnings. When you found out I asked Maria to marry me at Easter, you had to wed Elizabeth in a secret ceremony at Valentine’s, just to beat me.”

“You lost the wager, George. All’s fair in love and war!”

“Love? The only one you ever loved was your egomaniacal self!”

“Love is your problem, you poor deluded fool. Love has turned you into a green-eyed monster—a laughable poltroon!”

“You degenerate lecher! Not satisfied with one sister, you had to have both! Even that doesn’t slake your depraved appetite. You’ve just gotten some poor little drab with child.”

“Lily Clegg’s a whore, as is your beauteous Maria! Do not mention my duchess, Elizabeth, in the same breath as her sister!”

“I am a bloody fool,” Coventry said bitterly. “I’ve always known what you were, yet persisted in the friendship. Well, it’s over!”

Elizabeth was stunned at the revelations. She reeled away from the library door in shock, blood-red fury almost blinding her. She rushed upstairs to the sanctuary of her own chamber to gather the pieces of her shattered illusions together and decide what to do.

As her breathing became calmer, her brain began to function more clearly. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the confrontation with Hamilton was imminent. Her outrage was finally greater than her fear. Using her child to blackmail her and keep her in abject fear added fuel to the fiery fury that raged within. All things come at their appointed time. Tonight is the night!

She went to Hamilton’s bedchamber and found Morton. The valet looked at her blankly. “It’s me . . . Elizabeth.”

His eyes widened in recognition. “I would never have guessed!”

“I need your help. I want you to summon Hamilton . . . tell him he’s needed upstairs. Once he enters my chamber, I want you to stand guard outside and see that none enters, not even you.”

Elizabeth returned to her room and began to pace impatiently. She could not wait to stand up to the bully. Yet inside, deep at her core, serene calm reigned.

Quarter of an hour passed before Hamilton entered the room. He came to an abrupt stop. “Who the devil are you?” he demanded.

“Lily Clegg’s brother, come to avenge her!” Elizabeth drew her sword from its scabbard.

“Morton! Morton! Get in here!”

“He’s not coming. It’s just you and me.” She touched her blade to her nose. “En garde, Your Grace.”

Hamilton turned purple with rage as he reached for his sword.

“I’ll kill you!” he vowed.

Elizabeth smiled. “I, who am about to die, salute you.”

Hamilton lunged furiously. He was taller, broader, with greater strength and longer reach, but his opponent was quicker. The youthful figure in black sidestepped and parried every thrust. “ ’Tis rumored you are fated to die in a duel, as your father did.”

The words stirred the duke’s superstition, as they were meant to. She saw fear erase some of the anger on his face, as the lethal blades flashed in the lamplight. He began to sweat profusely, and she was enjoying this supreme challenge. She had no fear. It was as if this were only a staged duel and she acting out a role, as her sword arm extended and retracted, parried and thrust, building to the climax of the play.

Hamilton was breathing heavily, as she had him on the defensive. As always, he had been drinking, and his agility was sadly impaired. His lunges were becoming wildly desperate, and he bellowed for help.

Elizabeth reached up, snatched off her wig, and tossed it aside. Her golden hair tumbled down about her shoulders in all its glory. She reveled in his gasp of surprise. Then she delivered the coup de grace, deliberately catching the tip of his sword in the intricate basket design of her rapier’s hand guard and with a swift twist of the wrist she sent it sailing across the chamber.

Hamilton fell back on the carpet in disbelief, and swift as an arrow the point of her blade flew against his throat. She pressed slightly forward and felt bloodlust as his eyes bulged with fear. “I am the one who is in control now, James.”

For a full minute she looked directly into his pouched eyes, allowing him to fully comprehend his precarious position. “From this moment on, our marriage will be in name only.” She saw some of the fear leave his face as he realized she would not kill him. She pressed the sharp tip into his throat, pricking him. “From now on we’ll have a new partnership. I am a generous woman. In public I will still be your devoted Duchess of Hamilton. In private I will make the decisions regarding my own life.” She paused. “If you violate the rules I am laying down, I will create such a scandal it will ruin you in the eyes of the king, the Court, and Society at large.” She paused again. “Do we understand each other?”

Hamilton immediately nodded his understanding.

She hovered over him, not nearly finished. Sweat trickled down his face. “This is for using my baby to control me.” Quick as lightning she dropped the point of the sword to his shoulder and thrust it home. As his scream of pain rent the air, she gave him back the words he’d used on their wedding night. “I did hurt you.” Her voice held a note of satisfaction. “There should be pain when a man’s body is penetrated. Don’t hold back your cries.”

She sheathed her sword and opened the chamber door. “Morton, I believe His Grace needs a whiskey and the services of his doctor.” Elizabeth returned to the party. Wearing her own hair immediately gave away her identity. She proceeded to the ballroom and asked the musicians to stop playing for a moment. Then she held up her hands for silence. “I hope my male attire will not shock your sensibilities. My dearest friend, Lady Charlotte, Marchioness of Hartington, devised this costume for me, and I wear it tonight to honor her memory.” After a moment’s silence, everyone applauded. “Now that I have revealed my identity, I think it only fair that those who so desire may remove their masks.”

Elizabeth sought out her father and asked him to dance.

“You are very daring tonight, my beauty. You look as though you have a secret that is making you look radiant.”

“I do, Father. Tonight I became a woman in my own right.” She kissed his cheek. “Why don’t you open up a gaming room? I’m sure most of the gentlemen present prefer gambling to dancing.”

“I thought Hamilton would open one. Where is he?”

“Changing his costume. King James Stuart didn’t suit him. If you start a card game, I’m sure it will lure him downstairs.”

Before midnight, the subdued host did return to his guests. Saving face meant everything to this man of shallow values. Before she allowed him to escape to the card room, Elizabeth lifted a glass of champagne from a silver tray, took his hand, and pulled him into the ballroom. She held up her hand for silence. “I should like to propose a toast to London’s most gracious host and most indulgent husband. Ladies and gentlemen, the Duke of Hamilton!”

The applause was thunderous. The ton had grown used to his haggard looks. The duke nodded his head in acknowledgment. His bandaged wound prevented him from bowing.

Beth spied her mother talking with Peg Woffington. “Ladies, you both look spectacular tonight. Have you seen Lady Godiva?”

“Just as Maria was enjoying herself with Prince George, Coventry insisted that they leave. He’s so possessive of her!”

“I warrant he disapproved of her naked lady costume,” Peg said.

It’s just as well Maria has left. I mustn’t hold her responsible for Hamilton’s sins.

At one o’clock the musicians struck up a rousing march then played a medley of military music to celebrate England being at war. At two o’clock, while there were guests still able to stand, Elizabeth handed out the prizes for costumes. She pretended difficulty in declaring a grand prize winner then announced, “I shall take the bull by the horns and give it to the magnificent matador. Why, Horace Walpole, I swear I had no notion that was you in the red satin cape.” Elizabeth smiled and handed him the silver trophy. Horace will declare the Hamilton ball an unqualified success. All things considered, I have to agree!

By three o’clock the guests began to leave. By four, Hamilton was the only one who remained in the gaming room. He lay with his head on the table, surrounded by playing cards and empty glasses. Elizabeth encountered Morton, who had come down to retrieve him. “I shall summon Mr. Burke to help you. Be gentle. Luck wasn’t with him tonight—he suffered quite a few losses.”

The next day, Hamilton was quite ill and once again Dr. Bower had to be summoned. When he was leaving, Elizabeth waylaid him. “He isn’t in any danger, is he doctor?” she asked guiltily.

“Not from the pinprick he received. His drinking, however, is another matter. He has jaundice again. Yellow as a China-man! I gave him something to stop the vomiting, but one of these days he could hemorrhage from the stomach, and it will be all over.”

Hamilton did not leave his chamber for three days. Finally he recovered and Morton helped him don full Court dress so he could attend the king’s levee. An hour after he left Grosvenor Place, a footman brought a message from William Cavendish telling them that his father, the Duke of Devonshire, had passed away.

Elizabeth immediately sat down and wrote a letter of condolence. She would have gone to see Will but knew he would be on his way to Chatsworth. She sent one of their own footmen with a note for Hamilton to St. James’s Palace, though he would likely hear about old Devonshire at the levee.

An hour later, the footman returned and informed her that he had missed Hamilton. Apparently the duke had been at the levee but departed in haste. James Douglas did not return to Grosvenor Place. A week went by and still the Duke of Hamilton had not returned home. Elizabeth spoke with her father and asked him to make some discreet enquiries. Jack learned of places where Hamilton had been but was unsuccessful in locating him.

Finally, Elizabeth went to her sister’s and asked George Coventry if he knew anything.

“I don’t know where he has disappeared to, but I have a good idea why. The king passed him over for the post he sought. The moment His Majesty got word that Devonshire had died, he made Will, the new Duke of Devonshire, Lord Steward of the Royal Household.”

“Oh, Lord, he will be ready to kill!”

“The blow to his pride must be staggering.” Coventry didn’t sound displeased. “I’ll try to find out where he is, Elizabeth, but other than White’s we don’t frequent the same places. Have you spoken with his driver?”

“His coachman is also missing. Thank you, George.”

Two days later a note was delivered to Grosvenor Place:

His Nibs is at Dirty Gert’s, Hanging Sword Alley,Whitefriars. Kindly come and remove him from thepremises.

Elizabeth showed the note to Morton and Mr. Burke, who left immediately in a carriage without the Hamilton crest on its door.

The man they carried in the back door of Grosvenor Place bore no resemblance to a Duke of the Realm. He was unshaven and unkempt. His soiled garments stank of urine, vomit, and gin. Hamilton was also extremely ill.

“I am sorry your task is so distasteful, gentlemen, but if you will bathe him and put him to bed, I will send for Dr. Bower.”

Elizabeth stayed in the room while Bower examined her husband. When he was finished, he did not take her aside but spoke to both, even though he was not sure that Hamilton would comprehend. “The foremost vice of the nobility is drink. His Grace has acute alcohol poisoning. More than a dozen years of abuse has permanently damaged his liver, hence the repeated bouts of jaundice. He must be weaned from whiskey. If he keeps on, he will be dead in weeks. If he totally abstains, he may recover to some degree, but I believe a slow, downhill decline is inevitable.” Bower cleared his throat. “Make sure his will is in order.”

“I shall make it my business to see that he abstains, doctor.”

“Deprivation will cause tremors, anxiety, and terrifying hallucinations. Nursing him won’t be easy, Your Grace.”

When the doctor departed, Elizabeth repeated his words to Morton and Mr. Burke. “Get rid of all the spirits in the house. Someone must be with him night and day. Are you willing to help me?”

The first few weeks were a nightmare. Hamilton displayed all the symptoms Dr. Bower had described and more. He had profuse sweating bouts, after which he needed bathing and the bedlinen needed changing. His hands trembled, and he was afraid of everyone and everything including food. He had vivid hallucinations of strange animals and insects that attacked him or crawled all over him, making him scream and rave and sob.

Elizabeth, Morton, and Mr. Burke took turns nursing him day and night. The doctor came on a regular basis to monitor him, but it was a whole month before there was the slightest improvement. When the duke finally stopped raving, the servants lifted him into a chair for a few hours each day, but he was withdrawn and morose.

Bridget learned from Dorothy Boyle that Will Cavendish, the new Duke of Devonshire, was back from burying his father in Derbyshire. When she told Elizabeth, she visited Will at Burlington Gardens.

Dandy greeted her with exuberance. She picked him up and scratched under his chin. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Will, so soon after Charlie. How are you coping? How are the children?”

“The children are the only joy in my life. It breaks my heart that they’ll never know their mother. Everywhere I look in this house, each room, every object reminds me of her and of my loss. I feel guilty that I am alive, while she is dead.”

“Will, you must have no guilt. Charlie wouldn’t want that.”

“The king has offered me the viceroyship of Ireland, and I’ve decided to take it, Elizabeth. I shall take the children with me. There are too many poignant memories here at Burlington Gardens.”

“I think a sojourn in Ireland is a splendid idea. Work is an antidote to grief.” She hesitated then decided to confide in him. “James has been very ill. The doctor says he mustn’t drink again.”

“Shall I visit him before I leave, or would that embarrass him?”

“Better not, Will. I should get back, but may I see the children before I leave?”

“Yes, come. We’ll take them into the garden. Beth, would you like to have Dandy? He mopes about all day without Charlie.”

“Oh, Will, thank you. You know I’ve always loved him.”

“And he adores you. Thank you, Beth.”

During the next few months Elizabeth did not accept any social engagements. She spent all of her time at Grosvenor Place, dedicating herself to the care of her son, Jamie, and her ailing husband. The first brought her immense joy, the second helped assuage some of the guilt she felt.

Hamilton made only a partial recovery. Physically, he was debilitated, aged beyond his years and suffering from chronic gastritis that made it difficult to keep food in his stomach. He also developed a permanent tremor in his hands and shuffled when he attempted to walk. Mentally, his memory was badly impaired. Out of frustration his secretary and his stewards turned to Elizabeth in matters of business.

It was James himself who asked Elizabeth to summon his solicitor regarding his last will and testament. His primary concern was for his son and heir. He wanted everything to be right and tight legally for Jamie to inherit not only his titles but his property in both England and Scotland. He was well aware that his demise would likely come while his heir was still a minor, and the decision of a guardian had to be dealt with. Since he could not abide the thought of either William Cavendish or George Coventry having a finger in the pie, he chose Elizabeth, Duchess of Hamilton, to be his son’s legal guardian.

Beth was extremely grateful to James for his decision regarding her son, though it added to her feelings of guilt. She sat with her husband hour after hour, reading to him from newspapers such as the Political Register. She also played cards with him and often persuaded her father to join in their games of chance. James seemed most animated when she brought Jamie to visit. The first word she taught her baby was dada; it brought a tear to Hamilton’s eye, but it was a tear of joy. Jamie learned to take his first steps at his father’s knee, and Elizabeth made sure that the pair spent part of each day together.

“Elizabeth, why are you kind to me, when I was often a swine?”

The question startled her. She gave him a half-truth. “You were totally controlling, James, but you were always extremely generous with gowns and jewels, and you provided me and mine with all the comforts of life. I had little until you married me.” The real reason I am kind to you is because I don’t want a guilty conscience when you are gone. Guilt is worse than fear, really. It eats at your soul. Fear can be overcome more easily than guilt.