Prologue
London, 7th of March 1800
Young master Robert,Marquess of Thornbury, fidgeted on the leather squabs impatiently as the carriage drew up outside a four-story house in Pall Mall. Barely waiting for the carriage to stop, he jumped down into the road and said to the driver, “Wait here. I will bring the duke,” and hurried up the steps of the discreet establishment.
With his heart beating fast, he knocked and was answered, a few agonizing moments later, by a superior looking doorman, who looked down at Robert and widened his eyes in surprise.
“Young sir, I fear you must have the wrong establishment.”
Robert drew himself up to his full height, which reached to the middle of the big man’s chest, and said with every bit of dignity he could summon, “I am the Marquess of Thornbury, here to see the Duke of Troubridge. I understand he is within. Please conduct me to him immediately. It is a matter of the utmost urgency.”
The doorman blinked and bowed. “Follow me, my lord.”
Robert straightened his cravat and followed. The man led him up a flight of stairs to a salon on the first floor, where two rooms branched off. From one, the hubbub of conversation emanated, and Robert caught a glimpse of gentlemen seated around tables drinking and playing cards. The second room alsocontained gentlemen playing cards, but unlike the other room, was deathly silent. The men sat staring at their cards with grim concentration.
The doorman wove through the tables to one at the back, where a large, handsome man with dark hair and dark eyes sprawled in a chair, rouleaux at his elbow and cards before him. A glass half full of amber liquid, glinted in the light from the candles overhead. The doorman waved Robert forward and stood back.
“Robert!” said the Duke of Troubridge, blinking at him owlishly. “What are you doing here?”
His twelve-year-old son bowed to him with stiff propriety. “Mama’s time is upon her; you must come with me now!”
The duke changed color and dropped his cards. “Good God, it’s too early surely.” Rising, he waved at the other players. “Sorry gentlemen, you must excuse me!”
Relief caused Robert’s shoulders to drop and his fists to unclench—it had been easier than he’d anticipated. He turned and led the way out of the house and back to the waiting carriage. Clambering in after him, the duke slumped on the seat as the carriage lurched into motion. His hands were visibly shaking as he ran his fingers through his hair, which had come loose from its ribbon.
“How is she faring?” he asked, leaning forward toward his son.
Robert pursed his lips and said repressively, “As well as can be expected, sir.”
“It’s too early,” fretted the duke.
“In fact, it isn’t, sir. She began her lying in last week,” said Robert calmly. It was typical that his father paid so little attention he didn’t know when his wife’s time was come. Since the duke spent many of his days either drunk, in a gambling hell,or both, this was not surprising. He sat back, blinking. “Is that so? Why didn’t someone tell me?”
Robert just looked at him in silence. The duke gave a weak smile and put out a hand to grip his son’s arm. “Good thing she’s got you, eh? A sight more reliable than me.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “I’m a sorry excuse for a man. You, my boy, are a true gentleman, I’m proud of you.”
Robert lowered his eyes to hide the unmanly moisture in them. “Thank you, sir. I shall endeavor to live up to your expectations.”
“Oh, you far exceed them, my boy. Far exceed them. You’ll make a fine duke one day, much better than me.”
“Don’t speak of that sir,” said Robert softly. “We none of us want to lose you.” Whatever his faults, he loved his sire and while he could no longer hero worship him as he had done when he was younger, he was no more proof against the man’s natural charm than anyone else. Everyone loved the duke.
“I don’t plan to shuffle off the mortal coil yet,” said the duke heartily. “Where are the boys?”
He spoke of Robert’s younger brothers, Hereward and Kenrick, aged eight and four respectively. “Asleep, I believe. It is after three in the morning, sir. I was sitting with Mama when her waters broke, and I sent for the doctor and the midwife. When her pains came closer together, Mama sent me to find you.”
“Was it going well when you left? Nothing untoward?” asked the duke anxiously.
“The midwife assured me that everything was progressing as it should, sir.”
The duke nodded. “I shall not be easy until she is safely delivered, and the babe also.”
The carriage drew up just then outside their house in Berkeley Square and the duke was out of the carriage and up the steps like a cannonball shot. Robert followed a little more slowly,not because he wasn’t anxious to know how his mother fared, but because someone had to ensure the carriage was dismissed correctly and the driver well compensated for being hauled out of his bed in the middle of the night.
He followed his sire up the steps and into the house where their butler Creighton bowed to him. “The duke has gone straight up, Master Robert.”
Robert nodded, stripping off his hat and coat. “Thank you. Any news?”
“Any minute now I was told, half an hour ago. The staff are all praying for the duchess, my lord.”
