Duchess in Love (37 page)

The Lawn, Girton House

T
here was no denying the fact that the duchess was kissing the baby too much. Whenever he looked at that poor mite, all wrapped up in lace and fribblededoos, Cam felt a pang of sympathy. Even now, his wife and her friend Helene were hanging over the little bundle, balanced on the duchess's knees. As he watched, a small waving fist managed to grab a few strands of red hair and pull vigorously.

That's my son, Cam thought with satisfaction as his wife squealed and kissed the babe in appreciation of his infant violence.

Helene rose as he strolled over.

“Maximillian is very beautiful,” she said, smiling at him.

He grinned back. He'd grown very fond of his wife's friends, with their sharp tongues and disastrous marriages.

Not that Esme was married at the moment. Her reputation was indeed saved by Sebastian's announcement that he had attempted to trick Gina into his bed, using a false wedding certificate. But Esme retired into the country anyway. And
these days she swore that she needed no one other than her little baby.

Helene touched Gina's shoulder. “I will return in a moment with Max's blanket.” She walked toward the house, a willowy, lonely figure.

“He doesn't need a blanket,” Cam said. “Come here, you little scrap.” Max gurgled with laughter and reached his arms toward him. Cam's heart bounded.

“Isn't he the most intelligent baby you ever saw?” Gina said, hanging on his arm so she could see her son's face. “He knows his daddy.”

“Mmmammmamm,” Max said intelligently.

“And he's speaking! He already knows my name. Nanny told me that he wouldn't speak until he was over a year. Here he is, talking at only four months. She just didn't know how wonderful you were, did she, Buttercup? She thought you were like other babies.”

Gina took the babe back into her arms and lavished kisses on his sweet smooth skin and the wild black ringlets that covered his little head.

Cam's vision blurred. He reached out and cupped his son's head in his hand.

Gina leaned against him and they watched as Max yawned, a wide, toothless yawn. He curled his finger around his father's large one and turned his face inquiringly toward his mother.

“I think he'd like some milk,” Cam observed, demonstrating that all the family intelligence was not in its offspring.

“My little Buttercup,” Max's mother cooed, demonstrating the possibility that family intelligence lay only on the male side. She seemed to be unable to stop kissing the poor scrap of a boy. Not that he was complaining, exactly.

“Do you remember telling me about my mother's diary?”
Cam asked. He was winding Max's ringlets around his fingers and letting them spring free.

“Of course,” Gina said absentmindedly. She had sat down and was rearranging her nursing gown to give the baby a bit of luncheon.

“The part where she writes about my black curls?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said. “Just like our little Max.”

He knelt down before the child and tipped up his wife's chin. “I was bald, sweetheart,” he said. “Bald for two years. I'm the hairless child depicted in the schoolroom. Who says that I'm the only one with imagination in this family?”

She bit her lip.

He kissed her. It was only the ten thousandth kiss the duke had given his duchess in the past two years. But he seemed to be unable to stop kissing her, even in the broad daylight, and with a mildly interested audience of one Maximillian Camden Serrard, future Duke of Girton.

I
n the late 1590s, the Earl of Essex returned to England after a trip to the continent that lasted many years. Entering a ballroom, he saw an extremely beautiful woman dancing. Turning to a bystander, he asked her name. It was his wife.

Most husbands in 1810 did recognize their wives, and most did not seek annulment. Yet annulment did occur, especially among the aristocracy. For example, the Essexes later annulled their marriage. In 1785 the Fifth Earl of Berkeley married and later annulled the marriage, remarrying the same lady in 1796.

The nullification of Gina's marriage to Cam would have hinged on two facts: Gina's illegitimacy, and the age of consent for girls. Gina married before age twelve. The law at this time provided that if a couple disagreed once they both reached the age of majority, they could marry again to others. Moreover, because she was an illegitimate child, the name on Gina's marriage certificate was assumed rather than accredited. The name Lady Cranborne gave her adopted daughter was not legally valid, and marriages were invalidated for precisely this reason.

I have taken a fictional liberty in giving Peter Fabergé, who immigrated to the Baltic province of Livonia in 1800, a brother Franz, who remained in Paris. The Fabergés were a family of goldsmiths. In my reconstruction, the art of hinging beautiful objects was a family passion, and Franz created hinged alabaster statues while his brother Peter dreamed of hinged alabaster eggs. Peter's grandson Carl would perfect that most precious of hinged objects, the Fabergé egg.

A
uthor of four award-winning romances, ELOISA JAMES is a professor of English literature who lives with her family in New Jersey. All her books must have been written in her sleep, because her days are taken up by caring for two children with advanced degrees in whining, a demanding guinea pig, a smelly frog, and a tumbledown house. Letters from readers provide a great escape! Write Eloisa at [email protected] or visit her web site at, www.eloisajames.com.

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.