The Scandalous Love of a Duke. Jane Lark

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      “Yes.” The enthusiasm thrust into that one word was completely at odds to the demeanour of his welcome and the boy’s face lit up as Mary’s had done earlier. “God, John. Will you really take me?”

      “If you’re good.” He lifted a closed fist to press to his brother’s jaw, in a masculine gesture of affection, but the lad ducked away laughing.

      “I’m always good. You’ve just not been here to know it,” the cocky brat responded, and John laughed. Then his stepfather interrupted.

      “Perhaps you ought to ask me if he’s been good. I think his masters at Eton may have some tales to tell if they were asked.”

      John turned.

      “John.” His name was spoken with warmth and layered with hidden emotion.

      John smiled again. Edward’s hair was still a dark brown, untainted by age. He was younger than John’s mother and yet there were definitely more lines about his eyes, marking John’s absent years. “Father.”

      A twinkle in his eye, Edward said, “Son,” and gripped John’s shoulders firmly. The man had always treated John as a real son, no different to Mary or Robbie or the rest. “I’m glad you are back.” Edward’s grip fell away.

      Robbie then began urging his father for agreement on their outing to Tats.

      ~

      John was woken by a sharp rap on his bedchamber door. He sat up and threw the sheet aside from where it had lain across his hips.

      “My Lord,” a low voice called.

      “Yes, what is it?” John was already swinging his legs from the bed and rising.

      “His Grace, my Lord. The physician believes there is not much time. He sent me to fetch you.”

      “I’ll be there in a moment,” John called back, instantly shifting to search for his clothes in the dark room.

      It felt bizarre to be here. It had felt odd to see his grandfather ill, and now… It was like a dream, not a nightmare though. He only felt emptiness inside, not fear.

      Finding his trousers, he slid them on now his eyes had adjusted to the dark.

      The family had taken supper together before they’d left, sitting at the long dining table en masse in an impromptu, informal meal. It had felt like a celebration. The only quiet person was his grandmother, who’d sat at the far end of the table as John was encouraged to take his grandfather’s place.

      Perhaps it was wrong to have held such a gathering while his grandfather lay on his deathbed, but John had appreciated the gesture and the jovial conversation, even though at times he kept feeling the axis within him shift as though he was poorly balanced.

      He pulled his shirt over his head.

      He’d said goodnight to his grandfather, as had the others before they’d left, one by one, and he’d wondered then, how long.

      Hours.

      He sat and pulled on his stockings.

      God, this world felt strange to him – strange and a little surreal.

      When John left his room, the hall was morbidly silent and the statues seemed like sombre mourners.

      John gently knocked on the door of his grandfather’s chambers. “It is the Marquess of Sayle.”

      The door opened and a footman bowed. “My Lord.”

      His grandmother sat in the chair John had occupied earlier, her hand resting over his grandfather’s. She looked across her shoulder at John. “John.” Her voice was heavy with emotion, though he knew their marriage had never been a love match. For her it had been more like endurance.

      John stood behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders.

      There were three footmen in the room, his grandfather’s valet and the physician.

      “His Grace’s heartbeat is very weak,” the physician said quietly. “He is unconscious.”

      John nodded acceptance and then his eyes fell to the bed – to the man who’d always been a significant figure in John’s life. Even during the years he’d hidden from that influence abroad, he’d still been the Duke’s heir. He’d never been able to escape that.

      The old man was barely breathing, weak and wraith-like.

      John took a deep breath, stepped about his grandmother, leant forwards and rested a hand on his grandfather’s shoulder, then pressed a kiss on his cold brow.

      “Goodbye. I never thought I would miss you, but I shall,” John whispered, before rising.

      The Duke had probably not been able to hear it, there was no sign that he did, yet John felt better for saying those words. They were true.

      The old man passed away in moments, as John stood with his grandmother, watching.

      The room fell completely silent when the Duke of Pembroke took his last breath.

      John’s grandmother rose and leant to kiss the Duke’s cheek, tears slipping from her eyes.

      John felt only emptiness, oddness, a lacking…

      When she drew back, the physician walked past them both and lifted John’s grandfather’s wrist, checking for a pulse. Then he bent and listened for breath, before finally rising and drawing the sheet up and over the old man’s face.

      John’s grandmother turned sharply and John opened his arms to her.

      While he held her, the men about the room bowed and his grandfather’s valet said, “Your Grace.”

      John felt the ground shift sideways beneath his feet. He’d known this day would come. But God, it was strange now it was here. I am the Duke of Pembroke. This house, everything in it, and several more like it, acres and acres of land and the tenants living and working upon that land were all his to manage and care for.

       Chapter Two

      Standing on the lea beside Westminster Abbey, Katherine watched as the procession neared.

      The coffin was displayed in a black hearse pulled by six jet horses, with black dyed ostrich feathers bobbing on their heads as they trotted with high, precise, perfect steps. Their manes and tails were plaited and tied with black ribbon.

      Gripping her reticule with both hands and holding it more tightly, Katherine took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding.

      As the hearse drew to a halt, she lifted to her toes to see over the gathered crowd. She would swear half of London was in attendance to view the pomp and ceremony of the old Duke of Pembroke’s funeral. All she could see of John, as he climbed СКАЧАТЬ