Page 4 of His Illegitimate Duchess

T he duke of Norwich, tired and annoyed by the early hour and the tedious drive to Ashbury, was cursing the day he had, in a manner utterly unlike him, decided that he would be the bigger person.

Talbot refused to think about the tearful joy he’d felt when he’d opened the envelope containing the birth announcement of Nicholas’s daughter, later angrily claiming he didn’t know what had possessed him to decide to give their friendship another chance.

When Hawkins had told him he was to be married, Talbot had been glad.

For men like them, appropriate strategic matches were necessary and important.

Nicholas’s marriage, however, had marked the beginning of a growing rift between them.

His friend had first retreated to his Ashbury estate for six months, which, though a bit long, wasn’t unheard of.

However, he then stopped keeping up with his correspondence, and when he did condescend to write, his letters were brief, dismissive, and disinterested. Talbot told himself things would improve once Nicholas returned to London and daily life resumed like it always had. They never did.

Hawkins joined them at the club less and less frequently, until they only ever saw him at events he attended with his wife.

Talbot had started hating the Sedgewick girl for her interference in their friendship.

Why was she clinging to Nicholas so desperately?

Was she unable to be alone even for a moment?

And then came Nicholas’s irrational anger with Talbot for the actions of his own mistress .

Talbot had never forced Hawkins to have a tryst at a ball where his wife was in attendance!

And yet, most likely to appease the harpy, Nicholas had blamed Colin and distanced himself from his friend for good.

Duke Talbot, who, once he found a person he liked, did everything he could to keep them in his life, took this rejection surprisingly well: he spent time enjoying his latest mistress, a dark-haired, dark-eyed seductress by the name of Lady Genevieve Sinclair, going to Tattersall’s, spending time at White’s with Doctor Cooper, or Pratt, or Stone.

He even spent an entire month at his Norwich estate (which never failed to invigorate him!), but ultimately, he had to admit he missed Nicholas’s presence in his life.

Thanks to the unacknowledged wave of emotion that had swept him off his feet upon learning that one of his oldest friends had become a father, he now found himself at Ashbury Manor to offer his felicitations in person and attempt to salvage one of the most important relationships in his life.

The duke was announced as his hosts were at breakfast, and his entire body was thrumming with an unfamiliar mixture of anticipation and apprehension.

I might be falling ill, he thought briefly, before the man of the manor interrupted him.

“Talbot,” Nicholas said slowly, without the joy Talbot had been expecting to see in his face. “What brings you here?”

The two men shook hands. Although very different in their temperament and character, they used to share a deep understanding of what motivated the other. Colin wasn’t so sure of that any longer.

“I’ve come to extend my congratulations in person,” Talbot said breezily, trying not to show how stung he was by his friend’s wariness.

“It is much appreciated, thank you. They have your usual room ready for you upstairs. We can talk more after you settle in.”

I should have brought Stevenson, Talbot thought as Hawkins’s much less skilled manservant assisted him with his bath and attire.

It was no surprise. Everything, including the staff, was so much better at Norwich, but he would patiently bear it.

Now that he had arrived at his destination and greeted his friend, some of the nervous tension he’d been suffering all morning had left his body, and he was able to rest until it was time to dress for dinner.

The Hawkins's had a full house, he noted unhappily when he descended into the drawing room to wait for the dinner bell.

At least I like some of them, he consoled himself as he greeted the other guests.

The duchess’s father, Viscount Sedgewick, was a man he respected and did a lot of business with, and they shared a passion for hunting, which had led to many pleasant excursions in the past. That man had been the reason for Talbot’s initial fervent support for his friend’s marriage.

“Duke Talbot,” the corpulent man greeted him jovially, “it’s good to see you!”

“Lord Sedgewick, Lady Sedgewick,” Talbot inclined his head to the couple, “I hope you’re well.”

“Tremendously well, I dare say, now that we’re grandparents,” the wife beamed.

“Please accept my sincere congratulations on the birth of your granddaughter,” Talbot said, and the woman nodded graciously.

“Thank you, Your Grace. We are exceedingly happy. And I don’t know if you’ve heard that our daughter Isabella is engaged to be married to Viscount Oakley,” the proud mother continued, not caring for her audience one bit.

Talbot knew (and rather liked) Isabella, and Oakley was decent enough, so he could be honest while offering congratulations on that event as well.

“Now, Sedgewick, when are you and I going to head up to Norwich again?” Talbot returned the conversation to familiar waters.

“I say the fall, we finish up at Parliament and head up there together.”

The wife pursed her lips in disapproval, and Talbot was tempted to provoke that reaction from her again and again.

“Sound splendid!” he said cheerfully, then turned to the newcomers, who curtsied and bowed in deference to his higher rank. “Lord Oakley, Lady Isabella, I hear congratulations are in order.”

The duchess’s younger sister, who was good-natured and smart, blushed, and Oakley looked like someone was pulling him up to stand taller.

“Yes, Duke Talbot, we are engaged to be married,” the young man said proudly.

“Congratulations, I wish you a long and happy marriage,” Talbot said, despite believing that there was no such thing as a happy marriage.

The oblivious couple smiled and thanked him, and they all talked in circles some more, until they were joined by Earl Ian Sinclair (whom Talbot secretly thought of as that milksop ) and Hawkins’s younger sister Charlotte.

He endured some more pleasantries and small talk until, mercifully, the dinner bell rang. Then, however, he had to sit to the hostess’ right since he was the highest-ranked among the guests. It was almost enough to curse being a duke, almost .

Colin couldn’t wait for dinner to be over so the men could retire to the library to smoke, relax, and joke without the restraints imposed on them by the ladies’ presence.

Duchess Sophie Hawkins turned out to be pleasant and polite, engaging and a good conversationalist. Talbot had been introduced to her some time last year, but he hadn’t gotten to know her beyond a few perfunctory dances.

He had to keep reminding himself throughout dinner that this woman was the reason his friend wanted nothing to do with him and that she was most likely pretending to be nice and kind when people were around.

Isn’t that what my mother has always done ?

He turned to Charlotte, eager to think of anything else. She sat next to Sinclair and elegantly ate her small bites. Talbot felt eyes on him as he observed her and looked in the direction of the gaze to discover Nicholas frowning at him. He raised an eyebrow in question, and his friend looked away.

“When is the wedding, Oakley?” Talbot asked and took a deep drag of his cigar.

The familiar burn of the smoke in his airways grounded him in the way all familiar things did. He relaxed into his seat and stretched his legs in front of him.

“In less than a month,” Frederick replied.

“Looks like someone’s in a rush to consummate,” Talbot said, and most of the men felt free to laugh, since Viscount Sedgewick had already retired for the night.

“Shut up, Talbot,” Oakley said good-naturedly.

“Jokes aside, congratulations. Lady Isabella is the perfect wife for you.”

“When did you become the great defender of the institution of marriage?” Nicholas asked harshly.

Hawkins had been withdrawn and subdued the whole night, and as the evening progressed, he seemed to become more and more anxious to leave their presence, but, as a polite host, was unable to until all of them retired to bed.

Upon noticing this, Talbot had decided to stay in the library for as long as possible – partly out of spite, partly to make sure they were alone, and partly to gather courage for the dreaded conversation that needed to be had.

“If the match is appropriate and a good chess move, why not get married? The right wife can strengthen a man’s social position, and some of them are very pleasing to look at,” Talbot shrugged, affecting a carelessness he didn’t feel.

“Is that all there is to you, chess moves?” Nicholas asked loudly and impatiently.

Sinclair and Oakley looked between the two men and rose at once.

“We’ll, uh, see you both in the morning,” the milksop said.

“What else would there be?” Talbot replied to Hawkins without acknowledging the two departing men.

“Love, building a family, spending your life with someone you actually like!”

“I cannot wait for little Charlotte to come out, then you can let her marry an impoverished gambler because she loves him ,” Talbot spat the part about love mockingly.

Hawkins did look worried at the idea, and it made Talbot feel great.

“Why are you really here, Talbot?” Nicholas asked wearily. “And spare me that nonsense about felicitations.”

Talbot had been looking for an excuse to lay it all bare – his fear of change, the sense of being abandoned, his desire to mend their friendship… and he would have, had it not been for the tone Nicholas had just spoken to him in.

The tone of someone so spent and annoyed that he was unable to bear a second more in Talbot’s tiresome presence.

The tone of someone who felt that he, his irksome wife, and his (Talbot was certain) equally irksome baby were on one side of a fence, and he, Colin, was on the other, forever destined to look on from the outside at the warmth and joy the three of them shared.

So Talbot did what any self-respecting, well-bred Eton man in his position would do: he pretended he didn’t want to be part of Nicholas’s life anyway.

“I'm worried about you, all alone in the boring country. You should come and stay in London for a while, old friend.”

“I'm happy right here, Talbot, mind your business. And I am not alone ,” Nicholas responded firmly.

“Bad enough you saddled yourself with a wife, but now that you are imprisoned here? It is just pathetic. Imagine the rest of the Ton seeing you stare at your wife constantly like a lovesick puppy.” Talbot pressed what he knew was Hawkins’s weak spot.

“A real man enjoys God's bounty on Earth without limiting himself to one garden,” he said with a smile.

“There is nothing more valuable or important to me than my wife.

Maybe I was unclear the last time you provoked me, but our love is something I am proud of.

I could lose my dukedom and still be happy if I had her and Emma with me.

That is the true measure of a man: his loyalty to his family.

I don't care what the Ton thinks, and I don't care what you think.

I can only hope you'll get to experience love like this in your lifetime, because you used to be my friend once upon a time, and I still want you to be happy. But until you do, you are no longer welcome in my home if you are going to speak against my marriage and disturb our peace.”

Talbot felt a cold bead of sweat glide down his back. Their friendship was over. He’d lost Nicholas for good.

“Very well, I see you've made your choice,” he said coolly as he stood up. “I look forward to seeing you regret it. I will take my leave first thing in the morning, then.”

“Good night, Talbot.”

Colin nodded and walked back to his room as if in a dream. The pendulum of his emotions swung from indignation and anger at Nicholas’s sanctimonious, condescending attitude now that he had a wife and child he loved, to paralysing, crippling heartbreak.

“We shall see how long this phase will last,” he tried consoling himself. “Nicholas is a Ton man and his father’s son, I am certain he will have a mistress this time next year.”