The Compromised Duchess

Chapter 8

Grayson turned at the sound of Laurel`s cry, just in time to see the lady topple into the freezing Thames. He didn’t stop for reflection, simply hurried the few yards it took to get to the river bank, pausing only to remove his coat and yank off his cravat, before diving into the icy water. The cold stole his breath and pricked his skin like a thousand needles, as he pushed himself farther down. Visibility was poor due to the churned up filth and he had to swim around a little, before he caught a glimpse of her. He heard a splash above him and a minute later, Giles appeared close to him and caught his arm. Grayson used a hand to show where Laurel had sank, before diving deeper. He caught hold of a piece of her heavy skirts and pulled with all his might. The lady was dreadfully still, not even struggling to surface and he feared the worst. He wrapped an anchoring arm around her waist and used the other to pull them both to the surface.

He broke through with a gasp and sucked in great gulps of air, shaking his head to clear his eyes and supporting Laurel`s limp head above water. He opened his eyes to see a small crowd of onlookers gathered along the edge. A couple of gentlemen had carefully made their way down and stood close ready to take the lady from him. He obliged and handed her over, then pulled himself out, and up the bank.

“Good heavens Thomas, are you alright? you’re soaked through with that dreadful water.” Lady Brenton exclaimed, staring at him with wide open eyes.

He declined to answer and knelt by the unconscious young woman. Her face was dreadfully pale and her lips had turned blue from the cold. Several blankets had been wrapped around her and a few ladies hovered by with steaming cups of hot tea.

Lord Giles knelt by her too, and took one of her arms and began rubbing vigorously. “She needs a doctor, Grayson, the cold might kill her if something urgent isn’t done.

Thomas could feel the cold seep into his bones and his teeth began clattering. A lady handed him a cup of tea and he took it gratefully, wrapping his numb fingers around the hot cup. Someone draped a blanket around him, but it did little to stop the clattering.

“S.....she.....should.......be...c...c..carried....h..home” He answered beginning to shake all over. He noticed that Giles too had begun shivering. “n....need....to.....leave.....this....p..pal..ce.....some...where...warmer”

“I’ll carry the lady with your permission of course sir” A young man said earnestly. Thomas recognized him as Winthrop, a promising young lieutenant in Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. He nodded and stepped aside, pulling Giles with him to make room.

Winthrop bent and tenderly scooped Laurel in his arms, then straightened and asked Thomas where his carriage was.

“Put her in mine, it’s over by that oak.” Giles cut in before Thomas could reply. He turned and led the way, still shivering, to his carriage. Grayson downed the tea in one gulp and returned the cup to the lady with thanks.

Lady Brenton came to stand by him holding his coat and hat. “You poor dear, you must be freezing. Let me escort you to your carriage before you catch your death, I’m sorry I suggested this unfortunate walk, forgive me?”

Thomas shrugged not trusting himself to speak properly through his still clattering teeth. He walked quickly towards Harley street, where he had left his curricle by the entrance to the Crowley mansion.

Graves, his footman was leaning indolently against the curricle smoking a slim cigarette. When he glanced up and saw his drenched master, he hurriedly threw the stick to the ground, then hurried over concerned.

“Take us home this instant!” Lady Brenton snapped at him, shoving the coat and hat into his waiting hands, then nimbly getting into the vehicle. Thomas nodded at Graves and entered too and the servant expertly turned the pairs of horses pulling the curricle and they set off at a brisk pace.

Thomas threw off the blanket and reached under the seat, pulling out a small silver flask, unscrewing the cap and downing the contents. The whiskey burned a fiery path down his throat, spreading much needed warmth through his body...definitely much more effective than tea.

“I will need to get changed quickly so I can call round at Trevelyan mansion. Hope you don’t mind if I don’t drop you off immediately Beatrice?”

She smiled pleasantly and reached out a well-manicured hand to trace along his thigh. She giggled when his eyes widened in surprise, then was quickly marked by studied indifference.

“I don’t mind at all Thomas,” she replied her voice low and seductive. “Perhaps it will give us a chance to get better...acquainted?”

“Perhaps” Thomas replied now feeling toasty warm from the fire of the whiskey. “I meant to ask you earlier when we met at Lady Crowley`s, what you were really doing in town. Surely boredom cannot be a mere excuse to leave the country?”

Beatrice laughed and wagged a finger at him playfully, “A woman never reveals all her secrets, especially not to a gentleman she is enamored of”

Thomas’s eyebrows rose in query. “I had no idea you were fond of my company Beatrice, I thought you rather preferred Rosehaven? After all, it is the main reason you dragged me over to interrupt their cozy lunch.”

“Rosehaven is a mere boy compared to your more..shall I say... rugged charms?” She simpered leaning close and pressing her rouged lips to his briefly, before pulling away and licking the taste of whiskey from her own lips “I always prefer well-experienced men, makes the game much more exciting, don’t you think?”

“As tempting as your offer, Beatrice, I’m afraid I will have to decline. A girl’s life is in imminent danger and I need to make sure she pulls through. I’m sorry.”

“As always, you men are lured by the very idea of innocence in a woman.” Beatrice said scornfully, “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you kept staring at her and she doing her best to avoid your gaze. I wonder how Giles feels about you trying to steal his paramour right under his nose?”

“I shall not deign to answer that question.” Thomas said as the curricle pulled to a stop. He alighted and held out an arm for the lady. “Petty jealousy always seems so unflattering in a beautiful woman.”

Beatrice took his hand and alighted too. She smiled, reaching up to caress his strong, handsome face. “I am too confident in my own charms to worry about those of a school girl. And I’m glad you think me beautiful. Now, you’d better get out of those clothes. don’t worry, I shall amuse myself in your drawing room.”

She spun around and sashayed into the house, giving the Duke a view of her delectable backside. Everton opened the door and regarded his master with a raised eyebrow, then sent a servant with instructions to have hot water sent up to his master’s room.

“See to it the lady is properly entertained” Thomas instructed as he passed by, “Have a decanter of brandy sent up to my chambers and where in blazes is my valet?”

“Here your Grace” James, his valet answered coming quickly through the door leading to the kitchen. “Gads, what have you gone and done to yourself? You look like a drowned rat.”

“Oh do be quiet” Thomas answered. The close relationship between master and servant had been spawned several years ago, while both boys were still ten years old and played knights and villans in the extensive grounds. James was the son of the ST. Crye housekeeper who had been with the family for years. “I shall be going out immediately I am through with my bath, provided you can be trusted to find my clothes in time”

“I think I can manage that Your Grace.” James replied with a boyish grin and followed his master up to his chambers.

Thomas took his bath quickly, worried as to Lady Laurel`s situation. He fervently hoped the cold would not develop into a fever, that would be very grave indeed.

James helped him into a fresh shirt and breeches, then expertly tied his cravat. He muttered thanks to his valet and hurried down. In the hall, he was informed by Everton that the Countess was in the Rose room and he detoured. He threw open the doors and was greeted by the perfume of roses placed at strategic places around the room. Pink, yellow, red and white roses from the huge garden, brought a splash of lively color to the magnificent room. Beatrice was bent over a vase of sterling roses, admiring the lovely yellow color.

“How simply magnificent Thomas” She exclaimed when she saw him. “These are the most beautiful roses in all England. I`d heard stories of your famous garden, but this is the first time I’ve seen the results. Delightful!”

“My mother adored flowers,” Thomas replied walking into the room. “She spent a lot of time tending to her garden, but roses were her favorite and this was her favorite room in the entire house.” He picked a white rose stem from the vase closest to him and handed it to Beatrice. “A rose for an English Rose.”

“Thank you Thomas, how romantic.” the countess said taking the stem and sniffing appreciatively. “I hear you have rooms and rooms named for other flowers?”

“Twenty rooms in all, decorated with their named flowers.” He replied absently, his mind back to Laurel. “Let us be off now Beatrice, I am especially anxious about Lady Laurel”

“Of course. I shall accompany you there. After all it is my fault she was there in the first place.”

He held the door open for her, then passed through shutting it with a click, the scent of rose still lingered in the air.