The Decadent Duke Read Online Free Page A

can’t wait to read what the Times will have to say.’’ Jane showed no visible signs that the row had ruffled her feathers or cast the slightest shadow over her spectacular social achievement.
    "You have the true stamina of a Highlander. You amaze me. I don’t know how you do it,’’ Charlotte declared.
    "You forget ... I was a Maxwell long before I was a Gordon. Resilience was bred into my bones.’’
    As Georgina watched her mother lift the silver covers on the sideboard and fill her plate with gammon ham, lamb kidneys, and eggs, she suppressed a shudder. She served herself with a bowl of oatmeal and poured on a liberal amount of cream and honey. "Charlotte has invited me for a visit, and I have accepted,’’ Georgina said in an attempt to forestall any plans her mother might conceive. I invited myself, but Mother isn’t to know that.
    "I thought we might go to the play tonight, or perhaps Ranelagh, but apparently the pair of you are abandoning me to my own devices.’’
    "It’ll give you a chance to spend some time with Father,’’ Charlotte said with a straight face.
    "You know he can’t abide London for more than five minutes. He’s returning to Fochabers.’’
    "When?’’ Georgina dropped her spoon.
    "Already left for all I know ... or care,’’ Jane said lightly.
    Her youngest daughter jumped up, almost oversetting her chair. I can’t let him go without saying good-bye. Georgina rushed upstairs to the bedchamber her father always occupied when he stayed at the Pall Mall house. She saw to her dismay that it was empty and that the sheets had already been stripped from the bed. She ran to the window and saw that the black traveling coach was standing outside the stables and the team of Cleveland bays had already been harnessed for the long journey.
    Georgina flew down the stairs, hurried through the kitchen, and ran as fast as she could toward the berlin coach. "Father, surely you weren’t leaving without saying good-bye?’’
    Alexander took his breathless young daughter into his arms. "Ma wee lass, I thought ye’d still be sound asleep. Will ye miss yer old dad?’’
    She pressed her face against his caped greatcoat. "You know I will. I was hoping to sketch you in your kilt. You looked so grand in your wedding finery yesterday.’’
    "All my lasses have had drawing lessons, but ye are the only true artist, Georgy. I treasure that sketch ye did of me fishin’ in the Spey. Next time ye come to Fochabers, we’ll go fishin’ again—just the two of us.’’
    "I’ll come before autumn is over, I promise.’’
    "Good lass. Well, I’m away—can’t wait to get the stink o’ London outa ma nostrils and fill ma lungs wi’ the invigoratin’ air o’ Scotland.’’
    Georgina stood waving until the black coach went through the gates and turned toward Piccadilly, unmindful of the stable hands gaping at her dishabille.
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Three hours later, Georgina stepped up into her sister Charlotte’s carriage, which bore the ducal arms of Richmond on its door. Charles Lennox, mounted on a Thoroughbred, saluted his wife and took off at a gallop.
    The carriage lurched forward. "Wretched driver,’’ Charlotte complained. "My stomach is queasy before we even start.’’
    Georgina gave her a speculative look.
    "Yes, I’m breeding again.’’ She sighed heavily. "I’ve produced six children in the past eight years, and now I’m caught again. All Lennox has to do is throw his trousers on the bloody bed.’’
    "Well, at least they are all fathered by your husband.’’ Georgina smiled at her fondly. "That must be some sort of a record in London society.’’
    Charlotte laughed wryly. "I have neither time nor inclination to take a lover.’’
    "No doubt a diabolical plan by Lennox to keep you for