The Duchess

Chapter 1

“At best we can bag an earl, or perhaps an earl's heir for Allegra," Lady Olympia Abbott, Dowager Marchioness of Rowley, told her brother-in-law, Lord Septimius Morgan. "Pandora's behavior ain't helped her daughter, but there it is. My sister was always selfish, and do not glower at me, Septimius; it is the truth even if you have never faced it." She sipped her tea from a Wedgwood saucer thoughtfully. "We won't know what opportunities we have until the season begins, and we see what unmarried young men have come; but I can guarantee that Allegra's extraordinary beauty and wealth will attract only the best. The bluest of bloods, of course, will ignore her, but we'll do very well nonetheless. This tea is delicious, Septimius. Who is your importer? I must have some for myself."

"The tea comes from my own plantations, Olympia. I will see you are supplied with it from now on," Lord Morgan said.

"Your own plantations in India? I never knew," his sister-in-law replied, surprised. She slurped from her saucer appreciatively.

"Ceylon. My holdings are quite diverse," he explained. "It is not wise to put all of one's eggs in a single basket, Olympia. I have taught my daughter that lesson."

"I don't know why you bothered," Lady Abbott responded. "Allegra is going to be someone's wife, m'dear. She needs little knowledge other than how to manage a household efficiently, how to direct her servants to live moral lives, how to paint pleasing watercolors, play a musical instrument, sing, dance prettily, and of course give her husband an heir as promptly as she can do so. After that she must raise her children as God-fearing and mannerly, with a strong sense of their English heritage."

"Allegra is my heiress, Olympia. She should know how my many businesses are managed else she lose them one day," Lord Morgan told his sister-in-law, who only shook her head at him.

"Septimius!" said the exasperated lady. "Allegra's husband will be in charge of her inheritance. You know that we women are not capable of such things." She laughed. "How you dote on that girl, but she is still a girl." Then she grew serious. "I know you miss James Lucian, but your son is gone, Septimius. Allegra cannot replace him." The Dowager Marchioness of Rowley's soft blue eyes filled with tears, and she put a comforting hand on her brother-in-law's arm. "He was a great hero, my nephew, God rest him. A hero, and a true gentleman."

"Do not speak on it!" Lord Morgan said harshly. "While Allegra is indeed just a girl, she is extremely intelligent. Whoever her husband is to be he must appreciate that. Until the day I die my daughter will have a personal allowance from me of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds a year. And after I am gone my estates will continue to see Allegra receives those monies. I don't intend my daughter be at the mercy of some charming blue-blooded wastrel who will mistreat her after he has captured her heart, use her dower to pay for his vices and his mistresses, and then drink himself into an early grave leaving her and my grandchildren helpless to his family."

"Septimius!" his sister-in-law cried, shocked. "What kind of men do you think we are offering Allegra to, for mercy's sake?"

"I know the kind of men who inhabit the ten thousand, my dear Olympia. Most of them are useless, and all of them are snobs. As Lord Morgan's daughter, Allegra must of necessity choose one of them for a husband, but I will not leave her unprotected." His fist slammed upon the mahogany side table causing Lady Abbott to start.

"But whatever you give her the law says is her husband's," she protested. "You cannot circumvent the law, Septimius."

He looked at her, amused, thinking that Olympia was a good soul, but entirely too naive for a woman of her years. "Of course I can skirt the law, my dear. That is one of the advantages of being the richest man in all of England." He chuckled. "When I want something there are those only too glad to accommodate me. My occasional gratitude is both known and appreciated. No husband will be able to confiscate Allegra's monies for his own purposes. Now, let us speak on more imminent subjects.

"You will, of course, be staying at the house in town for the season.

"Allegra is to have the finest wardrobe that can be made. She is not to be outshone by lesser lights, Olympia. It is very good of you to take her under your wing, especially considering the youngest of your daughters is also malting her entry into society. I hope you will allow me to cover the cost of Lady Sirena's wardrobe as well. It will help you to get Allegra to stand still for the modiste if her favorite cousin is also suffering the same fate." Lord Morgan smiled. "Do not stint on either girl, my dear. Charles Trent, my steward and secretary, will see that they have the proper jewelry. The safe in the London house is full to overflowing."

"You are very kind, Septimius," Lady Abbott said gratefully. Her son, the young Marquis of Rowley, was married. His income was adequate, but hardly allowed for a generous allowance to be expended on his youngest sister. And worse, when she had returned home from Morgan Court, his wife had voiced objections to Sirena having a season at all.

"Augustus," Charlotte had said pettishly to her husband while in his mother's presence, "Sirena's dowry is hardly worth mentioning. I don't know who will have her. Couldn't we find a husband for her here in the country? I understand Squire Roberts has a fine son who is ready to take a wife. It seems foolish to expend our monies on a season in London for your sister."

The dowager marchioness had been outraged by her daughter-in-law's mean words. She had always tried to keep a good relationship with Gussie's wife, but this was intolerable. "My dear Charlotte," she said in icy tones that sent a shiver down her only son's spine. "Your dowry was not particularly overgenerous I recall, and yet you managed to attract my son's affections. You are married five years now, and have produced no heir. Still, I do not complain. Sirena's dowry was set aside by her father, God rest my darling husband, as were the monies for Sirena's debut in London. My daughter shall have her season!"

"And where will you reside?" the foolish Charlotte demanded. "We may go up for the season."

"I am sponsoring my niece, Allegra Morgan. Lord Morgan has invited us to live in his house on Berkley Square," Lady Abbott replied silkily. "Everything is already arranged, and we shall leave for London on the first of March."

"You could stay at Abbott House, Mama," her son said generously, to his wife's pique.

"Good heavens, Gussie, I should hope not!" Lady Abbott said loftily. "It is much too small, and not on the most fashionable of streets, I fear. We do want Sirena to make a good impression, don't we? Besides, I expect you and Charlotte will be filling the house with all your friends. It will hardly be the place for a young girl." She smiled at the couple.

"The house my father gave us as a wedding gift is on a perfectly good street!" Charlotte burst out, stung.

"Perhaps, my dear," her mother-in-law purred, "but it is not Berkley Square now, is it?" She smiled again, pleased to have put the aggravating chit back in her place. "I'm certain Septimius will invite you to all the parties he is giving for Allegra. After all, she is Gussie's cousin, isn't she?"

"She is a most delightful, but naughty puss," the Marquess of Rowley said with a fond chuckle. "I have always been quite taken with Allegra. But when she and Sirena get together all hell is apt to break loose!" He chuckled again. "You are going to have your hands full, Mama," he said, waggling a finger at her.

"Which is why I shall enjoy a quiet summer back here in the country," his mother said with a smile.

"If the girls bag themselves husbands, Mama, you shall have no peace at all this summer, for you shall be busy planning their weddings. I know that my uncle Septimius depends upon you in such matters, and when Allegra marries, it will be quite the spectacle, I think."

"Miss Morgan has little hope of making a particularly distinguished match," Charlotte interjected. "She may be rich, but her blood is barely blue, and her mama's disgraceful behavior can hardly recommend her, or be overlooked. Is there not a saying, like mother, like daughter?"

"Allegra's mother, you may recall, Charlotte, was my youngest sister," Lady Abbott said. "Her unfortunate conduct cannot reflect on my niece any more than it can reflect upon me, or any children you might finally bear. What twaddle you babble, my dear!"

"Have you ever heard from Aunt Pandora since she ran away, Mama?" Augustus asked, curious.

"Because you ask me, I shall tell you, Gussie, but it is never to be discussed with Allegra, or anyone else for that matter. Yes, I know where my sister is. She married her count, and they live outside of Rome. They are quite well liked, I am told."

"How could a divorced woman be remarried?" Charlotte asked.

"Pandora's first marriage was not performed in the Roman Catholic faith, and therefore not recognized by that church. My sister was first baptized into the old faith, and then married to her count. Septimius knows, but Allegra has never been told."

"She can hardly remember her mama," Augustus said. "She was only two when Aunt Pandora ran off."

"She doesn't remember her at all, but for the portrait of my sister which hangs at Morgan Court. Septimius has never taken it down because he has never stopped loving Pandora. My sister did not deserve such a good man."

"Why, madame," Charlotte giggled inanely, "you sound as if you had a tendre for Lord Morgan." She looked slyly at her mother-in-law, giggling again in a particularly irritating fashion.

What had Augustus seen in this ridiculous girl, Lady Abbott thought. Her dear husband had been dead a year, and Lady Abbott was barely out of mourning when they had met. Charlotte's parents, the earl and his countess, had been delighted with their daughter's prize catch. They certainly should have been! They had rushed the young couple to the altar almost immediately, hosting a large wedding at St. George's on Hanover Square, followed by a wedding breakfast afterward at their rented town house. There had been no time to point out to her son that Charlotte was a featherbrained chit who could be both selfish and mean. Still, she seemed to make Augustus happy, even if she had not yet produced a child. Her son said that Charlotte was afraid of childbirth, having been treated to horror stories from her mother, a brainless creature who had easily managed to produce three offspring despite her alleged fears.

"Will you need the coach to get up to London?" the marquess asked his mother, ignoring his wife's silly outburst as indeed he hoped his mama would. While he loved Charlotte, even he was ofttimes embarrassed by her tactlessness.

Lady Abbott gave her son a small smile, and patted his hand reassuringly. "No, m'dear, I will not. Septimius's traveling coach will convey us all to London in style."

"I hear the fittings on his vehicle are real silver-not gilt," Charlotte said.

"I believe they are," Lady Abbott replied. "Sirena and I are going to travel to Morgan Court in a few days, and from there up to London. I should appreciate the use of your carriage, Gussie, for that short journey."

"Of course, Mama," the marquess replied dutifully.

"But what if that is the day I wish to go visit my sister?" Charlotte whined.

"If it is," her husband said, "I shall drive you to Lavinia's in the Stanhope gig myself, my precious."

"Oh," Charlotte said, brightening, "I should like that!"

The drawing room door opened at that moment, and Lady Sirena Abbott entered, a packet in her hand. She was a very pretty girl with golden blond hair, and blue eyes with just the hint of gray in them. Her complexion was one of the most favored and in fashion- peaches and cream. "Mama, this has just come for you from Uncle Septimius," she said breathlessly. "I think it must be our traveling schedule." Then remembering her manners she curtsied properly to her sister-in-law, but hugged her brother enthusiastically. "Ohh, Gussie, isn't it exciting? I'm going to London with Allegra! We have both decided that we are going to be Incomparables, and have all the gentlemen at our feet. We shall only consider the men who fight duels over us for husbands!"

He laughed heartily, and hugged the slender girl back. "I certainly hope it will be just as exciting for you as you anticipate, Sirena. And, I hope you will find an excellent husband of good family, and better income to take care of you."

"Will he love me, Gussie?" she asked him anxiously.

"How can he not?" her brother replied. "You are beautiful, Sirena, and sweet-natured. You excel at all the feminine skills, and you are virtuous. No man could ask for more in a wife, little sister."

"But you must not be so trusting of the other girls in London as you are at home," Charlotte interjected. "Remember, they are all on the marriage hunt, Sirena, and will not be charitable toward others if it means they might lose a particularly desirable gentleman."

"That is excellent advice," Lady Abbott noted, surprised by her daughter-in-law's sudden generosity. Then she realized that Charlotte would be far happier having Sirena married and out of the house.

"You make it sound like warfare," the trusting Sirena said.

"It is," Charlotte replied. "You cannot let down your vigil until you are well and truly married. I knew a girl in my season who became engaged to a most desirable gentleman, only to have him turn about and elope to Gretna Green with another. She was ruined, of course, and has not showed her face in London since. She has little chance now of making a successful match."

"Poor thing," Sirena said sympathetically.

"If you were not going with Miss Morgan I should truly fear for you, Sirena," Charlotte responded impatiently. "At least your cousin has good common sense."

Again Lady Abbott was surprised. "I thought you did not like Allegra Morgan," she said to her daughter-in-law.

"I neither like her nor dislike her," was the lofty reply.

Lord Morgan's packet was a brief missive asking that they depart in a week's time. The Rowley coach would not be needed. Lord Morgan was sending his carriage for Lady Abbott and Sirena. They would visit at Morgan Court for a few days, and then go up to London. Lord Morgan would be gone when they reached Morgan Court, but he would await them in London. He had already engaged the town's most important modiste, Madame Paul, a refugee from the Terror in France, to make the girls' wardrobes, including the court dresses in which they would be presented to the king.

Sirena was beside herself with excitement. "Just imagine, Charlotte! Uncle has said no expense is to be spared, and we will have jewelry to wear from the family safe! Madame Paul is to make our gowns! We will even be presented to His Majesty and the queen."

"All young ladies of good blood are presented," Charlotte replied sourly. "I was, but I am certainly surprised that Miss Morgan is to be. After all, her blood is hardly blue. Well, perhaps a pale, pale shade," she amended.

"Certainly as pale as yours," Lady Abbott replied sharply. "I think a duke and a duchess for grandparents certainly equals an earl and a countess for parents." She arose before her red-faced daughter-in-law could respond, saying, "Sirena dearest, come. We must begin to pack, although you shall certainly need little. Just enough to tide you over until Madame Paul has your new wardrobe ready." She swept from the room, her young daughter in her wake.

"Why does your mama hate me so?" Charlotte wailed to her husband when they had gone.

Augustus put a comforting arm about his wife. "Perhaps, m'dear, if you did not try to be so superior with her it might be better for you. You are surely no match for Mama. She is older, wiser, and a duke's daughter. She is also most fond of Lord Morgan and Allegra. When you denigrate them, she feels bound to defend them. I hope that in the future you will learn to keep your own counsel, for you see, I, too, have a fondness for my uncle and my cousin. My inheritance was not a great one monetarily, but Uncle Septimius took it, and in the few years since my father died, has tripled it with his cleverness. Many of the furbelows and geegaws so dear to your heart, that I so generously bestow upon you, are provided thanks to my uncle. We are debt free, and will have the school fees for our sons when we need them one day." He kissed her cheek tenderly.

"I do dislike it when you scold me, Gussie," Charlotte pouted.

"Then amend your behavior, my darling, and I shall not have to do so," her wise spouse replied, and gave her another kiss.

"I shall be glad when we are finally alone," Charlotte told him. "I will enjoy these next few weeks before we go up to town, with just you for company, Gussie. And if we are fortunate your sister, Sirena, will find a proper husband, and not return to Rowley Hall at all." She sighed. "Of course we shall still have your mama in the dower house."

The marquess laughed. Had he not found the sparring between his mother and his wife so damned amusing, he might have been annoyed. They were, however, quite entertaining; his mother trying to adjust to being a dowager; his wife so eager to be lady of the manor. He was concerned that Charlotte had not conceived yet, but the Duchess of Devonshire had been a slow breeder, too. Only the presence of a son and a daughter among his cottagers reassured him that he, himself, was capable of siring children. When his wife was more secure she would certainly give him children.

Lord Morgan's coach appeared at Rowley Hall exactly one week later, just after first light. It was a magnificent vehicle, shiny black with silver fittings, and Lord Morgan's coat of arms-a gold sailing ship upon an azure background, three gold stars and a silver crescent moon above it-painted upon each of the carriage doors. Inside, the seats were fashioned of fawn-colored leather and pale blue velvet. There were crystal and gold oil lamps set on either side of the comfortably padded benches, and small silver floral vases filled with daffodils, fern, and white heather. The coachmen and two grooms wore elegant black and silver livery. Even Charlotte was impressed, if not just a trifle envious.

The luggage was carefully loaded by the grooms. The coachman remained in his place atop the box controlling the four dappled gray horses with the black manes who danced and snorted, obviously impatient to get going again. Lady Abbott and Sirena exited the house, accompanied by their personal maids. Both were garbed in fine fur-collared wool mantles over their gowns.

"Good-bye, my dear," Lady Abbott said to her son, kissing him.

"I shall look forward to seeing you in London, Mama," the young marquess said with a twinkle.

"Do some serious ploughing with Charlotte while you are alone, and have the time," she advised him pithily. "It is past time the wench did her duty by Rowley, Gussie." She kissed him again, and then allowed one of the grooms to help her into the vehicle.

Actually blushing, the marquess quickly turned to his sister, who having heard their mother's remark was hard-pressed not to giggle. "Good-bye, little one," he told her. "Good hunting!"

"Oh, Gussie, you make it sound so… so… so common!" she replied.

"It will be fun, I promise, but take Charlotte's advice and trust no other maiden except Allegra. The husband hunt is not for the faint of heart, sister." He kissed her on both cheeks, then helped her into the carriage where her mother and the two maids were already seated. "Good-bye! Good-bye!" the Marquess of Rowley called to his female relations as the vehicle pulled away, and the horses trotted quite smartly down the drive.

"Good-bye! Good-bye!" Sirena called, leaning out the window until her outraged mother yanked her back inside.

"Behave yourself, girl!" the dowager said sharply. "Your hoyden-ish days are over now, and you must grow up."

"Yes, Mama," Sirena replied, just slightly chastened.

They traveled the twenty miles separating Rowley Hall and Morgan Court, arriving by midday. As their carriage drew to a stop the two grooms jumped down from their outside seat behind the coach, and hurried to open the door and lower the step, allowing the passengers to descend. Charles Trent, Lord Morgan's steward, hurried from the house to welcome them. He was a distinguished gentleman of indeterminate years with a serious demeanor and quietly graying brown hair. He kissed Lady Abbott's hand as he bowed, and then Lady Sirena's.

"Welcome to Morgan Court. His lordship has already returned to London, but he left me behind to see to your comfort. Let us go into the house. I know that Miss Allegra is eagerly awaiting her cousin."

They had no sooner entered the building when Allegra Morgan appeared and threw herself into her cousin's arms with a shriek of delight. "Wait until I tell you!" she said excitedly. "Madame Paul has sent down her chief assistant, Mademoiselle Francine, to take our measurements and show us fabric samples!" Then remembering her manners she detached herself from Sirena's embrace, and curtsied to Lady Abbott. "Good day, Aunt," she said. "I am most pleased to see you have arrived. Papa has asked me to tender his greetings, and say he looks forward to seeing you in London." She kissed the older woman upon the cheek.

"Thank you, m'dear," Lady Abbott said, feeling a warmth in her cheeks, and wondering if the others had noticed.

"Luncheon is served, m'lady," Pearson, the butler, came to announce as the travelers' cloaks were taken away.

"Will you join us, Mr. Trent?" Lady Abbott asked. She knew that such was the steward's high position that he frequently came to table with the family while they were in the country.

"Thank you, madame, but I do have work to be completed today. I will, however, join you at supper. When the young ladies are ready they may go upstairs where Mademoiselle Francine is awaiting them in the Primrose chamber." He bowed politely, and hurried off.

"Such a lovely man," Lady Abbott said. "What a pity he is the fourth son. His parents are the Earl and Countess of Chamberlain, y'know. The eldest son, Francis Trent, will inherit, of course." She allowed Pearson to seat her, and then lowering her voice said, "He gambles, I'm sorry to say. The Earl of Chamberlain is constantly paying off his debts. The second son is out in India with the army, a colonel, I believe I heard. The third has an excellent pulpit in Nottingham. Both of them have married heiresses as they should have and consequently give their parents no trouble. The eldest has such an unsavory reputation that they cannot even find a wife for him. Imagine!

"And then there is Charles Trent. Beautifully educated at Harrow, and at Cambridge; a man with exquisite manners, and an instinctive sense of what is correct. Fortunately your father found him twelve years ago, and employed him. Being steward to Septimius Morgan is an honorable profession for a man of Charles Trent's superior breeding. I do not know what Septimius would do without him. He manages both the London house and this one. He handles the household accounts, engages any new staff, pays the wages, is responsible in fact for the entire staff. And he is your father's personal secretary as well. How he does it, I do not know. A lovely man," she repeated. Then Lady Abbott dipped her spoon into the turtle soup that had just been ladled into her plate, and began to eat.

Allegra looked archly at her cousin, and Sirena had to stifle her giggle. The two girls ate scantily and quickly, in order to be swiftly excused from the table that they might go to Mademoiselle Fran-cine. But Lady Abbott understood their excitement, and released them before the sweet and the cheese were served. They both rose slowly, attempting not to appear too eager. Then they curtsied, and walked carefully from the dining room through the doors the liveried footman held open. As the doors closed behind them Allegra and Sirena looked at each other, and then raced for the stairs. Stepping from his office, Charles Trent saw them, and smiled.

They burst noisily into the Primrose chamber where Mademoiselle Francine was waiting. The Frenchwoman arose, and looked disapprovingly at them, shaking a finger.

"Mademoiselles! Are you horses that you clomp?"

"Forgive us, mademoiselle," Sirena said politely. "We are so anxious to have you measure us so our gowns may be made!"

"Ahh," the lady replied with a small smile. "Well then, come, mes petites, and let us get your gowns off so I may ascertain what we have to work with. You are both very different. Are you related?"

"We are first cousins," Allegra said. "I am Allegra Morgan, and this is Lady Sirena Abbott."

"Thank you, mademoiselle," the Frenchwoman replied.

Allegra walked to the bellpull, and yanked upon it several times. She told the footman who answered her call, "Fetch Honor at once and Lady Sirena's maid, Damaris, as well."

"Yes, Miss Allegra," the footman replied, and hurried off.

"You have samples, Mademoiselle Francine, that you wish to show us? We might look while waiting for our maids," Allegra said.

Well, Mademoiselle Francine thought as she brought forth her box of samples, she has the manner of a duchess for all she is just plain Miss Morgan. "We have just obtained a marvelous selection of silks and satins from France. They shall be quite sought after, you understand, Miss Morgan."

"We shall buy the entire bolts of whatever we choose," Allegra said matter-of-factly. "I should not like to see myself coming and going, nor would my cousin. Ahh," she held up a clear pink striped silk, "this would be perfect for you, Sirena! It favors your coloring."

"The whole holt of each fabric you choose?" The Frenchwoman was absolutely astounded. These fabrics did not come cheap, for they had to be smuggled into England as France was no longer a civilized country in which to live, or do business.

"Yes," Allegra said. "Is there some difficulty in my request?"

"I must ask Madame Paul, Mademoiselle Morgan. Never have I heard of such a thing!"

"It must be," Allegra said firmly. "I am certain that Papa will make it well worth Madame Paul's while to cooperate, but if she feels she cannot meet our wishes, I can always obtain my fabrics elsewhere. Of course I would want Madame Paul to do our gowns. We will send a message to London to ascertain your employer's desires in the matter. Will that be satisfactory, Mademoiselle Francine?"

The modiste nodded weakly. "Of course, Mademoiselle Morgan," she replied. This innocent-looking girl was going to be a power to be reckoned with one day. She sat silently now as the two young girls pored over her fabric samples, not even daring to make suggestions. The Morgan girl obviously knew what she wanted, and she was not hesitant about telling her pretty cousin what would be suitable for her either. Oddly enough, the country-bred miss had excellent taste.

There was a knock upon the chamber's door, and it opened to admit two young women in maid's garb.

"Ahh," Allegra said smiling, "here are Honor and Damaris. Come, lasses, and help us to disrobe so Mademoiselle Francine can obtain the measurements she will need."

The servants quickly did her bidding. Shortly both Allegra and Sirena were standing in their lawn chemises. The Frenchwoman took her measurements, working quickly for she suspected that Allegra would have difficulty standing still for very long. She carefully wrote each figure down upon a clean sheet of parchment. "Neither of you will need a corset," she told them.

"I wouldn't wear one even if told I had to," Allegra announced.

"You may change your mind one day, Mademoiselle Morgan," the modiste told her with a small smile. "Voilà! It is finished!"

"You will return to London tomorrow?" Allegra asked her.

"Oui, mademoiselle, I will," was the polite reply.

"Then you will take my instructions regarding the bolts of fabric from Mr. Trent to your mistress. If she does not wish to cooperate with us, then I must go to the mercers who import through Papa's firm. I should, however, hate to lose that wonderful forest green silk. It will make me a most marvelous riding outfit, don't you think? I can just see the jacket with the gold frogs below my cream silk stock."

The modiste smiled. "You have not only an excellent eye for color, but for style as well, mademoiselle," she told Allegra.

"Thank you," was the quiet reply.

When Mademoiselle Francine reached London several days later she told Madame Paul of her conversation with Allegra Morgan. Madame laughed to her friend's surprise.

"And what did Monsieur Trent say?" she asked Francine.

"Marie! He said whatever the young mademoiselle wanted she should have! Is Lord Morgan that rich? And can you afford to lose all that wonderful fabric so that one girl may not see it made into another gown for someone else? Oh, Marie! It was so difficult to obtain that fabric as it is! Now not to have it to display and offer to our most important customers…!" Mademoiselle Francine was near tears.

"Do not weep, Francine," Madame said sharply. "We still have the fabrics that were not chosen, as well as a number of others besides. Actually it makes our season easier. Each bolt of fabric Miss Morgan chose for herself and her cousin would have made two to three gowns. Now we shall just have to make one gown, but we shall be paid for the three, plus the cost of the fabric! Those are Mr. Trent's terms to me. We shall have more time for our other customers, plus a handsome profit to bank as well. Now, tell me what the two young ladies were like. Plain? Beautiful?"

"Miss Morgan is extraordinarily beautiful. She has skin like a gardenia, Marie. It is quite flawless. Her hair is the color of that mahogany table you ordered from Mr. Chippendale last year. Dark, not brown, but not quite black, and with a faint hint of red to it. Her eyes are most unique in color; They are violet."

"Violet?" Madame queried, disbelieving.

"Violet," her companion repeated firmly. "She has dark brows, and thick dark lashes. She is taller than is fashionable, but actually not too tall. Slender with a tiny waist. Her bosom is not yet full, but pleasingly rounded. She has a lovely smooth broad chest that will make a wonderful display for her jewelry. Her hands and feet are delicately made.

"As for Lady Sirena, she will be an Incomparable without a doubt. She is dainty and petite. Her hair is that wonderful pure blond without any darkness to it. Her eyes are blue-gray with surprisingly long sandy lashes. She is so recherchée, and the gentlemen will adore her. Miss Morgan is quite protective of her, for Lady Sirena is as natural and sweet as a honeycomb. There is neither malice, nor deceit in her. She is most charming, and loves her cousin every bit as much as Miss Morgan loves her. They are an unusual pair."

"Miss Morgan then is not quite so helpless," Madame noted.

"Not that one!" Mademoiselle Francine said. "She is charming and obviously educated, perhaps too educated for a young lady of breeding and fashion. She does not tolerate fools, and speaks her mind. She is fully aware of the power and the status of her father's wealth, and the fact she is his heiress, confers upon her. If she wants something, she wants it! I wonder if the gentlemen will like her despite her great beauty and fortune."

"She will have a titled husband before the season's end," Madame said cynically. "Her family will seek out the best title they can find, and Miss Morgan will wed it, mark my words, Francine. They will not settle for a mere baronet, or petty lordling. It will be a gentleman of some consequence, and her father's wealth will obtain him."

"But what of l'amour?" Mademoiselle Francine asked, plaintively.

Madame laughed. "These English make their marriages like shopkeepers making the best bargains. There is little sentiment involved, I fear. It is all about status and wealth."

"Pauvres petites," Mademoiselle said.

"Do not weep for these girls, Francine," Madame replied. "They will get exactly what they seek, and deserve. And strangely, most will be very happy. They are odd people, these English. Home and hearth are what matter most to them. They have no sense of adventure."

"But everyone should have love," Mademoiselle persisted.

Madame laughed again. "You are a romantic, Francine," she said. "Now give me the measurements you took, and we will begin designing."

Chapter 2

On their arrival in London Allegra found a number of invitations awaiting Sirena and herself. The envelopes were piled upon a silver tray in the order in which they had been received.

"Gracious!" she exclaimed. "What am I to do with all of these?"

Charles Trent took the ornate salver from the butler, Mr. Marker. "I shall go through these myself, Miss Allegra, and arrange for them to be answered properly. Ahh, I see the Bellingham crest. She usually gives the first ball of the season. That will be an acceptance. Some will be invitations from those seeking to improve their social standing by inviting you. Then there will be those from very important people, and some events that are certainly not suitable for young ladies in their first season."

"Such as?" Allegra demanded.

Charles Trent smiled. "Certain card parties where the wagering is fast and deep, Miss Allegra. Why the Duchess of Devonshire has been known to lose hundreds of thousands in a single night. You don't want to get caught up in anything like that, but of course, there will be those only too eager to lure you into their gaming hells. Your father would not approve."

"This season we are to join sounds more and more dangerous to me," Allegra said. "I wish Papa had let me remain home. If I must marry I could have wed with Rupert Tanner. He has asked me, you know, but Papa will not hear of it."

"A second son? I should hope not!" Lady Abbott declared.

"His father was in favor of it," Allegra said.

"I don't doubt it. Having a second son wed with the greatest heiress in all of England would have been quite a coup," her aunt replied. "The old Earl of Ackerly is a sly dog, and always was. Besides, his countess is not someone your father would have you related to, even by marriage. She is his second wife, and her background is quite shadowy."

"Besides, you don't love Rupert," Sirena said. "You've always said he was like a brother to you."

"Yes, but I am comfortable with him, and he does whatever I tell him," Allegra admitted frankly.

Mr. Trent swallowed a guffaw at this remark.

"Upstairs with you both!" Lady Abbott ordered. Then she turned to the butler. "Marker, send a footman to Madame Paul's to say we have arrived and would like a fitting on the girls' gowns as soon as possible. They certainly cannot be seen in public in such old-fashioned country clothing."

"Yes, m'lady," the butler replied with a bow.

They easily settled into the house on Berkley Square, but late that same afternoon they had a visitor as they sat in the gardens enjoying the sunshine. Marker came with the card, and offered it to Lady Abbott.

"Good gracious!" she exclaimed, paling. Then, "Of course I am at home to Lady Bellingham. Show her out here at once! Girls, your very best behavior, please! Clarice Bellingham is one of the arbiters of both fashion and society in London. If she approves of you, you will be given entry to everywhere that is important."

"And if she does not?" Allegra inquired.

"Your season will be a total failure, my dear child," Lady Bellingham said, coming into the garden. She was a tall, handsome woman dressed in the height of fashion. "They all listen to me, although frankly I do not know why, but there it is. How do you do, Olympia? It has been four years since you brought a daughter to London." Lady Bellingham plunked her ample frame onto a marble bench, looking about her as she did so. "Septimius has the finest gardener in all of London. I don't know anyone else's garden that looks so beautiful." She stopped speaking for a moment to catch her breath and gaze sharply at the two young girls in her view.

"I-it is good to see you, Clarice," Lady Abbott said, regaining her composure. "No, 1 haven't been up to London since Amanda made her bow. I am a countrywoman at heart, I fear. And then, too, London is not the same without my dear husband. Marker, tea, please."

"I suppose I should miss Bellingham if he went and died on me," Lady Bellingham remarked dryly. "I shouldn't like to take a backseat to that featherbrain my son is married to, but fortunately my good husband seems to be in grand health, praise God! How are Augustus and his Charlotte? That marriage was executed quickly, and we were all quite certain…" She paused, and then continued, "Well, you know what everyone was thinking, Olympia. Yet here it is several years later, and she has not produced."

"We continue to hope, and pray," Lady Abbott said weakly. She had forgotten what a whirlwind Clarice Bellingham could be.

"Now introduce me to these two fetching young creatures. Who is the outspoken one, and who is the gentle one, as if I didn't already know," she chuckled.

"This is Miss Allegra Morgan, my niece."

Allegra curtsied politely, although her cheeks were still warm from having been overheard; and now to be called outspoken was most embarrassing.

"Not Pandora's gel? Well, she's certainly a rare beauty. I suppose as her father's heiress we can expect she will be a great success," Lady Bellingham pronounced quite candidly. "How d'do, Miss Morgan."

"How do you do, madame," Allegra replied as another rush of heat suffused her face. Lady Bellingham had called her Pandora's girl. Did they all have such sharp memories'? She supposed so. It was interesting that they could remember her mother when she could not.

"And this is my youngest, Lady Sirena Abbott."

Sirena made her curtsy to Lady Bellingham, giving her a shy smile as she did so.

"How d'do, my dear," the formidable lady said. Then she turned to Lady Abbott. "She will certainly be an Incomparable, Olympia. She is the loveliest of your three gels," and then seeing Sirena flush with pleasure, Lady Bellingham said, "Why, child, has no one ever told you that?"

"No, madame," Sirena replied.

"Well, you are, and I have seen both Caroline and Amanda. The elder has shoulders a bit too broad, and the other's nose was a bit too retroussé, I fear. Still, they did well in the husband hunt, but you, I suspect, will do better." She turned her attention back to Lady Abbott. "She has a respectable dowry? I know how selfish Charlotte is, and how she must begrudge this lovely child."

"Fortunately Arthur left monies in his will for both Sirena's season and her dowry. It is identical to that of my two elder daughters, and more than adequate," Lady Abbott said proudly.

"And being in the company of her cousin won't hurt either," the redoubtable lady replied. "I assume Septimius is giving them both a ball? What a house this is for entertaining! What a pity it is only used by Lord Morgan when he is in town managing his many affairs."

"My father does not cheesepare, madame," Allegra spoke up boldly. "Of course he will give a ball for both of us. Sirena's will be at the beginning of May, and mine at the end of that month. If you wish to know the dates, I can call Mr. Trent. He keeps track of such matters for us."

"Allegra!" Lady Abbott's voice was anguished.

"Bless me, the gel is hardly shy," Lady Bellingham chuckled. "Don't scold her, Olympia. I like her. She is not the usual simpering miss I meet each season." Her gaze swung about to Allegra. "Have Charles Trent check with me regarding the dates of your balls, my dear. You don't want to find out when it is too late that there is a more important event those nights. And you will want Prinny at your balls. Nothing adds the stamp of success to a gel's own ball than having Prinny there."

"Tea, m'lady?" Marker asked, prepared to pour from the silver pot.

"Gracious, yes!" Lady Bellingham replied. "Septimius keeps the best store of tea in town, I am told." She sniffed the steam arising from the cup that Marker had handed her. "Ohh, yes!" she approved and, spilling some into her deep saucer, sipped. "Ah, indeed!"

Lady Abbott felt weak with relief. Clarice Bellingham had approved both of the girls despite Allegra's quick tongue. Their entry into society was therefore assured. She sipped her own tea, and once fortified said, "It is so nice of you to call on us, Clarice. I cannot take the girls out until their new wardrobes are ready. We must not make a bad impression, or give rise to jealous gossip from the other mamas."

"Rightly so!" Lady Bellingham responded. "When Miss Allegra and Lady Sirena first appear, they must be seen as the height of fashion. I assume Madame Paul is doing the gowns."

"She sent her assistant down to Morgan Court to measure," Lady Abbott divulged proudly. "A footman has already been sent to her shop to inform her we are here, and ready for fittings."

Lady Bellingham nodded. "Have you obtained a date for your gels to be presented at court yet?"

"Clarice! We are just arrived several hours ago," Lady Abbott protested, half laughing.

"I will have Bellingham arrange it for them immediately. They should be presented in the first wave of young ladies. Make certain that Madame Paul has their court gowns ready first. I will send to you when a date has been obtained."

"Are court gowns different from the others, madame?" Allegra asked the older woman.

"Indeed they are, my dear. Hooped skirts are still required at court, not to mention elaborate wigs with ridiculous decor atop them."

"I have never worn a wig," Allegra told her.

Lady Bellingham smiled. "And you are unlikely to after you have been presented at court. It is such a needless yet necessary expense, for it is required, although I do not know why."

"Gracious! I have forgotten the wig maker!" Lady Abbott cried.

"Have Mr. Trent make an appointment with Monsieur Dupont, and say that I recommended you to him. Charles knows how to handle it," Lady Bellingham replied with a smile.

"Your faith in me is deeply appreciated," Mr. Trent said as he came into the garden. Taking Lady Bellingham's hand up, he kissed it, smiling. “You are as magnificent as ever, madame," he told her.

Lady Bellingham chuckled. It was a deep, rich sound. "What a pity you are the youngest, Charles," she said. "You have the bearing of an earl, but you are still a rogue. Since your father yet survives, it is to be hoped that your eldest brother will either gain some sense before his demise, or die himself from the drink so your brother out in India can inherit. He probably will one day, anyway," she finished frankly.

A shadow of a smile passed over Charles Trent's face. Then he said, "The first of May for Lady Sirena, and the thirtieth of the month for Miss Allegra?"

Lady Bellingham thought a moment. "Yes," she finally said. "There are some unimportant events being given by some unimportant people those nights. Get your invitations out immediately, Charles."

"They are already written," he replied, now smiling openly.

"Rogue!" she repeated with a chuckle. "Then why did you ask if you already knew?"

"Because, madame, you know more than I do, and usually before I do," he explained. "Besides, 1 value your approval." He bowed to her. "You ladies will excuse me," he said, and hurried off.

"Clever of Septimius to engage him," Lady Bellingham said. "He is utterly invaluable, but I do not believe for one moment that I know anything before he does. What a flattering devil he is." She chuckled again. Then she grew serious. "I understand there will be an unusual number of young eligible gentlemen this season, and fewer ladies than is usual. Both of you should have husbands before it is all over." Then she thought a moment before she spoke again. "Olympia! My ball is in ten days' time. It is always considered the official opening of the season. Do not accept any invitations before then for your gels. Those silly chits, just out of their schoolrooms, are even now parading themselves about the park, giggling behind their hands at the gentlemen. There isn't one of them that I've yet seen who can hold a candle to either of your two gels. Of course everyone knows they have come to town, but keep them out of sight until the night of the ball. It will make their first appearance and entry into society spectacular!" She chortled wickedly. "All the men will want to meet them that evening. The doting mamas will be absolutely furious."

"What a wonderful idea, Clarice!" Lady Abbott agreed. "And as you have assured me that there are plenty of gentlemen to go around this year, I need not feel a bit guilty about using such a tactic."

"Zounds, Aunt, is that not devilishly wicked of your¹" Allegra teased.

"My child, do not use language like that," Lady Abbott replied. "It is so common. There is nothing wrong with you and Sirena making a unique entrance into this world you are going to inhabit for the rest of your lives. It is really the best way to get you noticed immediately."

"Oyez! Oyez! Two prime young virgins with proper dowries, ready to wed. What am I bid, gentlemen?" Allegra mocked.

"Allegra!" her aunt cried, distressed, but Sirena giggled.

Lady Bellingham, however, burst out laughing. "She's absolutely right, Olympia." Then she turned to Allegra. "Yet, m'dear, how else are you to meet proper gentlemen?"

''I am not certain I want a proper gentleman, madame," Allegra responded, half seriously, half mischievously.

"The naughty ones are more fun, I will agree, and I speak from experience," Lady Bellingham said with a twinkle in her eye, "but it is the proper ones we marry. For our sakes. And for our families'. Sometimes you will find a unique gentleman with both naughty and proper qualities. However, they are very rare, m'dear. Do not fear, Allegra Morgan. 1 will be your guide. I will advise you myself, for I know all about the ten thousand, or the ton as some are now calling us. Trust me, and I will bring you safely through your first season. Hopefully your only season."

"I fear I shall need a pilot to traverse the choppy waters of society, madame. I cannot simper, or be coy. I think those attributes ridiculous. A gentleman with no more on his mind than cards and racing is as much of a featherbrain as a girl who thinks about nothing but gowns and balls," Allegra said. "I shall be a difficult match, I fear."

Lady Bellingham reached out, and patted the girl's hand with her own plump white one, which sported three beautiful rings. "There, there, my child," she said. "There is someone for everyone. Of that I am certain." Then she heaved her ample bulk from the bench, saying as she did so, "I have surely overstayed my welcome. Olympia, walk with me. Good-bye, my dear gels. I shall look forward to seeing you at my ball."

When the two older women left the garden Sirena spoke. "Mama says she is a power to be reckoned with in London society."

"She will be a good friend to us, and I suspect that we are fortunate in that," Allegra noted shrewdly.

"Do you think that she is right?" Sirena asked her cousin.

"About what in particular:¹" Allegra replied.

"That there is someone for everyone," Sirena answered. "What if we go through the entire season, and do not find husbands?"

"We will come back next year," Allegra said practically. "Not everyone, I am told, bags a husband their first time out."

"But we will be eighteen in December," Sirena said.

"And we are seventeen now," Allegra responded laughing. "Oh, sweet coz, I am not sure I am ready to be married yet. We are just out of the schoolroom. I should like to see something of life and the world before I am settled down into a dull married existence."

"But I want to be married!" Sirena said plaintively. "Mama won't move into the dower house until I am safely settled with a husband. I hate living at the hall now. Charlotte so obviously dislikes us. She begrudges Mama and me every mouthful we eat or drink."

"Marrying to escape your sister-in-law is a rather bad idea," Allegra said. "If we do not find husbands this season, sweet coz, then you shall spend the summer with me, and in the autumn I shall have Papa take us abroad for the winter months. We will return next season refreshed and most sophisticated from our travels. It will make us far more interesting than the schoolroom chits joining us next year. We shall be utterly fascinating to the gentlemen."

"Oh, Allegra, you are so sensible! I wish I could be more like you, but I really do want to find the man of my dreams, and have my own home."

"If that is what you wish," Allegra responded, "then it is what I want for you, too, Sirena. You will not have a difficult time in finding suitors. Your background is impeccable. Mine, however, is not. Papa's title is not very old, and my mother's behavior will surely lead the gossips to believe I am like her."

"But you are so rich!" Sirena said frankly. "Mama says all else will be forgotten regarding your background because of your papa's wealth."

"Oh, yes, my status as Papa's heiress. But I don't want a man marrying me just because I am my father's daughter," Allegra said.

"You cannot escape what is fact," Sirena replied.

"I suppose I cannot," was the thoughtful answer, "but I can certainly judge a man's sincerity, I hope, which may keep me from an unhappy misalliance. My mother married Papa for his wealth when she did not really love him. If she had loved him she could not have fallen in love with her count and run away with him, could she?"

"I suppose not," Sirena said softly. Her mother had always cautioned her to avoid any prolonged discussion of Allegra's mama. Pandora had, Lady Abbott told her daughter, been the youngest of their father's children. Beautiful, winning when she chose to be, and utterly selfish from her birth, Lady Abbott said. Her divorce from Lord Morgan had been all her fault, not his; and as she would not allow Allegra to suffer because of her mother's bad behavior, Sirena must avoid all conversation leading in that direction with anyone, including Allegra.

It was at that moment that Lady Abbott hurried back into the garden. "Oh, my dears, you have made such a good impression upon Clarice Bellingham! She will lead you both through the season, she has assured me. Her approval is a guarantee of your success!" the good lady burbled. Then she hugged them both. "And Madame Paul, herself, has arrived with her assistants to personally oversee your fittings. I have explained to her that you must each have a ball gown ready for the Bellingham ball, and your court dresses almost immediately. Come along, now!"

"Do you think Madame Paul will be as sparrowlike as Mademoiselle Francine?" Allegra whispered to her cousin as they hurried back indoors and up the main staircase of the house to their shared bedchamber suite.

"I don't know," Sirena whispered back. "She is probably more formidable, for Mademoiselle was very deferential when she spoke of her."

Madame Paul turned out to be a tall, gaunt woman with iron gray hair, black eyes, and a commanding nature. When the girls entered the room set aside for the fittings she immediately cried, "Off with your gowns, mademoiselles. Vite! Vite! The time, it is precious!"

Madame's two little assistants quickly stripped them down to their chemises. Madame, clucked and fussed with seemingly shapeless piles of material while Lady Abbott sat expectantly in a high-back tapestried chair.

"Mademoiselle Morgan," Madame said, beckoning Allegra with a bony finger, "Ici, s'il vous plaît. Bess! The cream gown!"

The garment, high waisted with a gently bouffant skirt, a gathered bodice, and short, tight sleeves with exquisite silver lace that hung just to above her elbow, was fitted on Allegra. The skirt's hemline came just off the ground, and had a delicate silver lace overskirt. The rounded neckline was lower than any gown she had ever worn, and seeing her young breasts swelling above the gown's fabric made Allegra blush. She struggled to pull the silk up.

Madame yanked it down with a severe look at her client. "It is the fashion, mademoiselle," she said in a stern voice.

"Even for such a young girl?" Lady Abbott ventured hesitantly.

"Madame," the modiste said, "you are offering a new product. Do you not wish it to be seen to its best advantage? Necklines are low this year. Your niece has a pretty bosom, unlike some my studio is dressing, who will need certain… um, aids to show their wares."

"The gown is indeed lovely," Lady Abbott said softly.

"Of course it is," Madame Paul responded. "No one takes the measurements like Francine. Come, mademoiselle, to the looking glass. I would have your opinion, for you are to wear the gown."

Allegra stared at herself in the mirror. How grown-up she looked. The faintly cream-colored silk with its silver lace overskirt was certainly the most beautiful gown she had ever possessed. She turned her head this way and that, admiring the image reflected back at her. The color of the gown brought out the translucence in her skin. Her mahogany hair looked richer, her eyes more violet. "Yes," she said. Nothing more, but Madame Paul understood perfectly.

"You will have a shawl, silver and cream, woven as if by spiders themselves, cream kid gloves that will come to the elbow, a very small reticule made from cloth of silver, and silver kid dancing slippers. You must wear only pearls with this gown, Mademoiselle Morgan. The impression you will give is that of elegance and utmost purity."

"Yes," Allegra answered the modiste, unable to take her eyes off her image. What would Rupert think if he could see her in this gown, she wondered. Then, smiling, she turned to her aunt, questioningly.

Lady Abbott nodded her approval.

The gown was removed, and set aside to be returned to madame's studio for the final finishing. Now it was Sirena's turn. The dress for her cousin was equally wonderful. In the same style, it was of palest sky blue silk brocade with a narrow sapphire blue velvet ribbon belting the waist. The lace on the sleeves of Sirena's garment was cream color, but there was no overskirt, making the dress quite different. The bottom three inches of the hem were pleated tightly. Sirena squealed with delight when she saw herself in the glass.

"A cream lace shawl and elbow length gloves, a reticule and slippers the color of your belt, and for you also, pearls, Lady Sirena. The effect is delicate and fragile as is your blond beauty. Your mama will have to fend the gentlemen off, m'lady."

Both girls laughed at this pronouncement, and even Lady Abbott could not restrain a smile.

"Ohh, Madame," Sirena said, "If the rest of the wardrobes are as wonderful as these two gowns, we shall be the envy of London!"

The modiste smiled archly. "And they will be, and you will be," she replied.

"What of the court gowns?" Lady Abbott asked.

"Cecile, bring the hoops," Madame said. "They are so awkward. I do not understand why your King George is so insistent upon them. Most young girls do not know how to wear hoops, and they certainly dare not sit in them."

"It is his custom, and he is a man who doesn't move easily with change," Lady Abbott said.

"Are not all men like that?" Madame Paul responded with a shrug of her narrow shoulders. "Why should a king be any different? They bleed like any other as we discovered when they lopped poor King Louis's head off his shoulders." She shuddered. "Praise le bon Dieu that I had the presence of mind to escape France before that happened!"

"Surely a respectable modiste woman would not be harassed," Allegra said.

"Mademoiselle, I created only for the aristocracy," Madame Paul explained. "I worked with my sister and my niece. Francine came with me, but Hortense refused to leave France. She was killed along with many other innocents whose only crime was that they toiled for the nobility."

"I am sorry, madame," Allegra replied.

"As am I, Mademoiselle Morgan. I miss my sister." Then the modiste was all business again.

"These gowns must be ready for the Bellingham ball," Lady Abbott told the Frenchwoman again.

"Both wardrobes in their entirety will be ready two days before," she promised Lady Abbott. "Your young ladies can then put on their new day dresses and parade about the park with the other misses."

"My daughter and my niece will not appear until the night of the ball," Lady Abbott responded.

"Ahh, how clever!" Madame Paul chuckled, looking with new respect upon Lady Abbott. The dowager marchioness was obviously not such a fool as she might appear. She chuckled again.

True to her word, the girls' new collection of wearing apparel arrived exactly when madame had promised them. They were brought by Mademoiselle Francine, who, having directed the footmen in unloading her carriage and the accompanying cart, presented her bill to Mr. Trent. She was mightily surprised to be paid immediately, and in full. Usually it took the rest of the season, and sometimes months afterwards to collect all that was owed them. Often her aunt would withhold the court presentation dress from each collection in order to obtain at least something of what was owed her. Mademoiselle departed smiling, and was distinctly heard to be humming beneath her breath.

Allegra and Sirena could scarce contain themselves. Everything from the skin out was new and fresh. There were chemise dresses, and tunic dresses in fine cotton fabrics, striped and watered silks. There were shawls from India, velvet mantles, bonnets, a dozen ball gowns for each of them, matching shoes and gloves. There were silk petticoats, and fine lawn chemises as well as both silk stockings and tights. Honor and Damaris were kept busy the entire day putting away their mistresses' new wardrobes.

Lady Abbott encouraged her charges to rest until the night of their first ball. "You'll get little rest once you have entered into society. You are already invited to a number of other balls, card parties, picnics, and teas. Mr. Trent has been kept quite busy going over all your invitations. Do you not find it amusing that although no one has yet seen either of you, you are already quite popular?"

"I find it terrifying," Allegra told her aunt. "My invitations are based upon my wealth. I could be as ugly as sin, Aunt, and with a face covered in warts, yet J should still be a succès fou among the gentlemen. They don't know me. They don't want to know me. They just want to marry my father's heiress. Is it possible, given my circumstances, to find a man who will love me? I think not. Whatever match I make must be made for practical reasons. But I vow that while I must go to the highest bidder, he will have to be a man with whom I can get along."

"Oh, Allegra, do not say such awful things!" Sirena begged.

Lady Abbott, however, sighed. Her niece was absolutely right in her assessment of her situation. "I am glad you are so prudent, and cognizant of your situation, Allegra," she told her. "It is possible, however, to make a match with a good man in spite of your circumstances. Often, in time, love enters such a marriage, but if it doesn't, at least affection and respect will do nicely, I think."

"That is terrible!" Sirena cried. "To go through life unloved by one's mate? I could not survive it!"

"You had best become more practical, daughter," Lady Abbott said. "Once the bloom is off the rose, and you have filled the nursery with a new generation, your husband is, in all likelihood, going to return to London, and to the little mistress he has kept hidden away in a house near the park. That is the way of the world, Sirena. Not all men are like your late father or your Uncle Septimius."

Sirena's eyes filled with tears, and her lower lip trembled, but she said nothing more. She was going to find a man who would love her forever. There was no use arguing with her mama about it. Mama just didn't understand at all. She never had.

The night of the Bellingham ball came, and at a quarter to ten o'clock in the evening Lord Morgan's town carriage drew up before the door of his house. Lord Morgan and Charles Trent emerged dressed in fawn knee breeches with three silver buttons at each side of their legs, dark double-breasted tailcoats which were left open to reveal elegant waistcoats, ruffled shirt fronts, and beautifully tied white silk cravats. Their hose were striped black and white, and their black kid pumps sported silver buckles. They were followed by Lady Abbott who was wearing a rich plum-colored watered silk gown, a large powdered wig upon her head decorated with several white plumes sprinkled with gold dust and a diamond hair ornament. Lastly came Allegra and Sirena in their new gowns. The ladies entered the coach first, followed by Lord Morgan and Mister Trent. The vehicle then moved off.

When they reached the Bellingham mansion on Traleigh Square, they found themselves in a long queue of carriages slowly snaking their way to the town house's front door. As each coach reached its destination, footmen quickly opened the door, lowered the steps, and aided the passengers in disembarking the vehicle. Once inside there were more footmen to take the gentlemen's cloaks, and maids to take the ladies' mantles. The house, Allegra noted, was quite fine, but smaller than her father's. Ascending the stairs they reached the ballroom where they again joined a queue waiting to be announced. As they reached the majordomo, Charles Trent leaned over, and murmured in his ear.

"Olympia, Dowager Marchioness of Rowley, Lady Sirena Abbott," the majordomo boomed, and then as Sirena and her mother entered the ballroom he announced, "Lord Septimius Morgan, Miss Allegra Morgan, Mr. Charles Trent."

Zounds! Allegra thought to herself as her father escorted her to the reception line to greet her hosts, I have actually arrived. She was suddenly very aware of the many eyes upon her, then she caught herself, and curtsying said, "Good evening, Lady Bellingham."

"Good evening, m'dear," her hostess replied, and then introduced her spouse, who smiled at Allegra.

"Pandora's gel, eh? But more your gel, I'm thinking, Septimius," Lord Bellingham said frankly.

"Indeed she is," Lord Morgan replied proudly, and then with a bow moved on with his daughter to join Lady Abbott and Sirena.

Allegra didn't know where to look next. The ballroom was utterly magnificent. It seemed hardly possible that a house of this size could contain such a large chamber. The woodwork was all gold and white rococo. The chandeliers were sparkling crystal with gold fittings. The beeswax tapers burning in them were scented with honeysuckle. At one end of the room was an ornate gold baroque balcony thrusting out from the wall. Musicians, garbed in dark blue velvet knee breeches and matching coats, were seated on the balcony playing. The walls were covered in pale blue silk brocade and paneled with mirrors. Before each mirror was a gilded pedestal upon which rested a large blue Wedgwood urn filled with multicolored flowers. The floors were of polished wood. About the room were rose velvet settees and small gold chairs with sky blue velvet seats. Looking up, Allegra saw the ceiling of the ballroom was filled with gamboling cherubs.

Lady Abbott led her daughter and her niece to a settee, and sat down. "Now," she said softly, "we await the bees to come to the flowers displayed so prettily before them."

"Where did Papa and Charles go?" Allegra asked.

"To drink or play at cards with other like-minded gentlemen," Lady Abbott replied. "Balls are for you young people." She smiled.

About them the other mothers and guardians viewed with discreet side glances the two young women who were said to be the season's greatest beauties, even though neither had been seen until tonight.

"Well, what do you think?" Viscount Pickford asked the Duke of Sedgwick.

"Which one is she? I was not looking when they were announced," the duke replied. "The fragile little blonde?"

"No, the brunette with the pale skin, and the arrogant tilt to her head. God, she really is a great beauty, Quint! She'll wear the family jewels with elegance," the viscount finished.

Quinton Hunter laughed. "We have not yet met. I may need a rich wife, Ocky, but we must suit."

"Come on!" the viscount said enthusiastically. "The dowager and my mother were friends in their youth. I can use that as an entree. You get the heiress, but I want to be introduced to that delicious thing who is the dowager's youngest daughter."

"You haven't stopped gathering gossip since we got to London," the duke teased his friend as they walked around the crowded ballroom.

"Good evening, Lady Abbott," Octavian Baird said. "I am Viscount Pickford. I believe you knew my mother, Laura Beauley, when you were girls together in Hereford." He bowed politely.

"Of course," Lady Abbott gushed. "May I introduce my niece, Miss Allegra Morgan. Allegra, this is Viscount Pickford. And of course, my daughter, Lady Sirena."

"And may I introduce my friend, Quinton Hunter, the Duke of Sedgwick," the viscount continued. Then he turned to Sirena. "Have you room on your dance card for me, Lady Sirena?"

Sirena blushed, and perused her card, which until now was empty. "I believe I have the third dance open, sir," she said, quickly writing his name down. Thank you for asking."

"No," he quickly responded, "Thank you."

"Sedgwick," Lady Abbott said thoughtfully. "Your father was Charles Hunter, wasn't he? And your mother Vanessa Tarleton?"

"Yes, Lady Abbott," the duke answered.

"Your mother and I were distant cousins. We shared a great-grandparent, although I don't know which one," she told him.

"Indeed, madame," he replied. Then he turned to Allegra. "Would you have a dance available for me, Miss Morgan?"

"Alas, Your Grace," she quickly replied, "but my card is full tonight. If we meet again during the season, I shall promise you the last dance on my card." She gave him a faint smile.

He bowed, and without another word walked away with Viscount Pickford.

"Are you mad?" her aunt demanded. "No one at all has asked you to dance yet. He is a duke! At least Sirena pretended that while she was engaged, she could still fit Viscount Pickford onto her card."

"I did not like the way he looked at me, Aunt. As if I were a horse and he were judging my points," Allegra said.

"Perhaps he is shortsighted," her aunt replied. "I can only hope you haven't insulted him so badly that he will not dance with you next time. You are just suffering from nerves, m'dear."

Across the ballroom the Duke of Sedgwick watched Allegra and her aunt in their spirited conversation, a sardonic smile upon his face. "She had not yet accepted a single dance," he said to his friend, Viscount Pickford.

"But she said her card was full," Ocky replied.

"She lied," the duke answered him. "Her open card was in full view." Nonetheless he was amused more than insulted. This beautiful girl with her fabulous wealth and unimportant background had sent him away. She would, of course, pay for insulting him; and she would be aware she was being punished. He murmured something to Ocky.

The viscount chuckled. "Do you really want to do that, Quint?"

"Miss Allegra Morgan and I must understand each other right from the beginning, Ocky," the Duke of Sedgwick responded.

Allegra sat next to her aunt, waiting to be asked to dance. Sirena's card was shortly filled, but still no one had asked Allegra by the time the dancing had begun. She sat like stone in her beautiful gown as the other young women about her danced the night away. She refused to move when her aunt suggested they go into the banqueting room to visit the buffet. 'You may go if you wish," she said, her head held high despite her embarrassment.

"I don't understand it," moaned Lady Abbott helplessly.

"Why is Allegra not dancing?" demanded Lady Bellingham of Lady Abbott, once the situation had been brought to her attention.

"Someone started the rumor that her card was full," Sirena said as her current partner brought her back to her seat.

"When I find out the mother who did this," Lady Bellingham said furiously, "I will ruin her! 'Tis cruel! Cruel beyond imagining!"

The musicians on the balcony began tuning up their instruments for the minuet, the last dance of the evening. Suddenly the Duke of Sedgwick was standing before Allegra. He bowed politely, his face a mask of civility.

"I believe, Miss Morgan, that this is our dance," he said.

Allegra's eyes widened but she could not under the circumstances refuse him. She arose stiffly, and gave him her hand. Her silence was very eloquent.

"Hasn't a crumb to his name, thanks to his father, and grandfather," Lady Bellingham said as the couple disappeared onto the dance floor. "The estate is completely intact, I am told, but the house is in bad repair. Still," her gray eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "I suspect if Allegra wanted to be a duchess, she could have him. What a coup for you all, Olympia! We must look into the possibilities."

"He is said to be very proud of his bloodline, Clarice. Allegra can't match him there," Lady Abbott replied.

"But he is as poor as a church mouse, Olympia. His blue blood will dry up, and his line be gone if he doesn't find a rich wife. There isn't another girl here this season whose fortune can even come near to Allegra's. Her wealth can buy her a duke."

"She doesn't like him," Lady Abbott said. "She said he looked her over as if she were a horse he was contemplating buying."

Lady Bellingham laughed heartily. "I am sure he did, but then he has rescued her from oblivion by dancing the last dance with her, Olympia. She will be grateful for that."

"I think it is he who started the rumor her dance card was full," Lady Abbott told her friend. "He asked her to dance before, and she claimed her card was full when in reality no one had asked her yet. I think he played a jest on her to teach her a lesson."

"Why the devil!" Lady Bellingham chuckled. "I shall have to talk to him about playing such wicked tricks."

"Allegra will be furious," Lady Abbott replied. "She will find a way to repay him in kind, I am certain."

"Then they are indeed well matched," Lady Bellingham answered. "Quinton Hunter is overproud with regard to his heritage, and your niece, being the richest young lady in England, will not allow anyone to lord it over her. I see a wonderful match in the making, Olympia! It is up to us to nurture it along. There isn't a mother in the room tonight who would give their daughter over to this penniless duke. This is a great opportunity! What did you hope for at best?"

"A viscount, or an earl," Lady Abbott responded.

"But we have the chance of a duke, m'dear," Lady Bellingham said. "Ohh, it will be the talk of the season, and to think it all happened at my ball!"

Chapter 3

April passed, and as the lilacs in Lord Morgan's London garden came into bloom, it was obvious that despite Allegra's best efforts to discourage the Duke of Sedgwick, Quinton Hunter could not be dissuaded from paying her his court. At each ball he took up more and more of her dance card until it became the subject of much gossip. Allegra was furious, but there was little she could do about the situation. There was no other gentleman in whom she had the slightest interest at all. Worse, it had become quite obvious that young Viscount Pickford and Sirena had fallen in love. Sirena had little time now for her cousin, and wasn't in the least bit sympathetic regarding the duke's behavior. She thought Allegra mad not to encourage the duke.

Knowing the two girls were going on a picnic up the river one afternoon, Lady Abbott, with her brother-in-law's approval, invited the duke to tea. When he was shown into the garden she thought again what a very handsome man he was. The duke kissed her hand, and at her behest sat down opposite her.

Lady Abbott got right to the point. 'You have spent the last month taking up a great deal of my niece's time, Your Grace. I have been authorized by Lord Morgan to inquire of you regarding your intentions toward Allegra."

"Do you consider me a fortune hunter then, madame?" he asked, his tone cold.

"No! No!" Lady Abbott quickly reassured him. "We are well aware of your circumstances, Your Grace. A man of your breeding could hardly be called a fortune hunter, but I have it on the best authority that you are seeking a wife. Is this so?"

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Would you consider a match between yourself and my niece?" Lady Abbott asked him bluntly.

"Yes," the duke replied as frankly. It pleased his vanity that he had not had to come to them on bended knee. They had come to him, which was as it should be. Allegra Morgan would be marrying into the finest family in England. She would be the mother of its next generation of sons.

"Do you love her?" Lady Abbott queried him.

"No," he responded. "I do not believe love should be a factor in arranging a good match. My antecedents married for love. You see the result of their foolishness in my situation."

"Your antecedents were also quite famous gamblers," Lady Abbott reminded him, wondering briefly if she was really doing the right thing.

"I do not gamble. I have, in fact, an abhorrence of it as you may well understand. If a match can be arranged between Miss Morgan and myself, I promise you I will treat her with dignity and respect. We may even in the years to come gain an affection for each other," the duke said. "And, of course, she will be the Duchess of Sedgwick."

Lord Morgan entered the garden, followed by Marker with a large silver tea tray.

"Put the tray on the table, Marker," Lord Morgan said. "Lady Abbott will pour today."

"Very good, my lord," Marker responded, setting the tray down, bowing, and departing back into the house.

Lord Morgan looked to his sister-in-law.

"His Grace has indicated, if I understand him correctly, that he would like to offer for Allegra," Lady Abbott said tactfully.

"There are conditions, sir," Lord Morgan said. "Conditions you may not accept."

"And they are?" the duke responded.

"Allegra is my heiress. When I die she inherits everything. This house, Morgan Court with its two thousand acres, my tea plantations, my trading shares, my ships, my companies, everything. I ain't ready to die by a long shot, however, so until I do I intend giving her an allowance of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds a year. It will be hers, and you can't touch it. You'll sign a paper to that effect, although no one has to know of our transaction. I'll also give you an equal allowance each year of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. And I want your word that you'll treat my daughter with kindness. She ain't like any girl you'll ever meet. Got her mother's beauty and my intellect. If I know Allegra she'll take her allowance and invest much of it. She'll turn a profit, too. I've taught her well. And she can also do all those other female things Olympia thinks are so important, although maybe not well, but that's what servants are for, eh?"

"Your wife had but two children," the duke said, voicing his only concern.

"Pandora didn't like children. After she had given me my son she decided her duties were done. When she deserted me I learned she had purposefully aborted three children before Allegra was born. Why she did not destroy my daughter I'll never know. Be assured, my daughter will be a good breeder for you."

The duke nodded. It was obvious that his future father-in-law was an honest man. It had taken courage to expose his former wife's shortcomings. He obviously loved his daughter very much.

"Your daughter and I have not had the best of beginnings. She is still angry at me, I fear," the duke said candidly.

Lord Morgan's stern face softened, and he chuckled. "It was a wicked trick you played on her at the Bellingham ball. She fumed for a week, and has been considering ever since how best to repay you. She is a sensible girl, however, and will see the advantage to such a fine match as you propose. I will explain it to her when she returns later this afternoon."

"When do you propose we set a wedding date?" the duke said.

"I understand that Hunter's Lair is not in the best of condition to receive a bride," Lord Morgan told him. 'Tour home must be modernized and renovated, sir, before you wed Allegra. However, I would advise a formal announcement be made at my daughter's ball at the end of this month. In the meantime you and Allegra might attempt a detente between yourselves," he finished with a smile.

"The tea will get cold if I do not pour it now," Lady Abbott said. "Oh, look! Cook has made those delightful little salmon and cucumber sandwiches you so like, Septimius!"

"Your niece's ball was lovely," the duke said sociably. "The decorations were as delicate as Lady Sirena herself. She is a charming girl. My friend, Viscount Pickford, is going to offer for her, Lady Abbott. I do not believe I speak out of turn by telling you this. You will know soon enough. Ocky has already spoken to his father, and the old earl is absolutely delighted by the possibility of such a match."

"Ohh, I am so glad!" Lady Abbott said. "Sirena has always wanted to be a June bride. We shall hold the wedding at St. George's on Hanover Square just as the season ends. I imagine they will leave London immediately afterward. Then I shall return home to my dower house." She smiled. "It's small, but at least I shall not have my daughter-in-law, Charlotte, glaring if I take a second piece of toast."

They sat talking over their tea, and finally the duke arose.

"I had best depart before the picnickers return," he said. "You will want to speak with your daughter before we meet again."

"We are going to Almack's tonight," Lady Abbott volunteered.

"I will be there," the duke promised her as he bowed over her hand. "I hope Allegra will be." Then he departed the garden.

Lady Abbott put a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with what had just happened. Then, her hand falling away, she said, "We have done it, Septimius! We have made Allegra a duchess! There hasn't been such a marriage coup since the Gunning sisters came over from Ireland with their father forty-four years ago! And Sirena, too! My baby will be a countess one day when old Pickford dies. It has certainly proved to be a very successful season so far, hasn't it?"

"Neither of them is at the altar yet, and Sirena will be far easier to get there than Allegra. She is in love. I am not sure that I do not feel a certain guilt about sending Allegra into a loveless union with the duke. Still, I cannot disagree with him regarding love. Look what love has brought me, too," Lord Morgan said sadly. "He seems a good man though. I have never heard anything untoward regarding his character. I believe he will be kind to my daughter."

"We must get Allegra to be kind to him," Lady Abbott replied with a small twinkle in her eye. "I do not envy you your duty, Septimius. You will have to tell her immediately."

"I know," he answered. "As soon as she returns we shall speak. Who was she with today?"

"Sirena and Pickford, of course, and young Rupert Tanner," Lady Abbott answered.

"I wasn't aware Rupert was in London," Lord Morgan said. "You know he had the cheek to ask for Allegra before we came to London. I don't like it that he's come sniffing about. His father cannot get the idea out of his head of marrying his second son to my daughter."

The day had suddenly grown overcast as spring weather was apt to do. Lord Morgan and Lady Abbott repaired indoors.

"When my daughter returns," Lord Morgan told Marker, "tell her I want to see her immediately in my library."

"Very good, my lord," the butler said with a bow.

"And you may tell my daughter I am in my rooms," Lady Abbott said.

"Yes, my lady," Marker replied.

Making himself comfortable in his study, Lord Morgan poured himself a whiskey and sat in an upholstered chair by the blazing fire. He considered how to best approach his daughter, but he knew there would be no easy way. A woman needed to be married in their society. Allegra had been raised to understand that. He knew of few love matches. Families arranged marriages to best suit themselves. The bride and the groom knew they had to make the best of it, and usually did. He had been foolish enough to fall in love with his wife, Pandora. It had made her betrayal all the more difficult.

He had told the duke he did not know why Pandora had not aborted the baby who had grown up to be Allegra. He had lied. He knew very well why Allegra had been born because he had overheard a conversation between Pandora and Olympia that he had not been meant to hear. It had been Olympia Abbott who had threatened her younger sister with exposure if she did not have the baby she was carrying.

"You have destroyed three of Septimius's children," Olympia said angrily. "I will not allow you to destroy this child."

"I have given him a son," Pandora whined. "What more is expected of me?"

"What if something happens to James Lucian?" Olympia asked. "You must give Septimius another child, and you are already ripening with this one. I do not understand how you could allow that awful woman to tear three of your babies from your body."

"Oh, Olympia, do not be so dramatic. She gave me some revolting potion to swallow and several hours later I passed those miserable little inconveniences with painful difficulty. I would never let old Mother Diggums put her hands on me. The creature is disgusting."

"You will have this child," Olympia said stonily. "If you do not I shall tell Septimius what you have done, Pandora. He will have every right to divorce you, and I shall encourage him to it, I swear! And do not think you can cozen me by pretending a miscarriage."

"I shall miss the hunting season," Pandora said irritably.

"We shall both miss it," Olympia replied. "I, too, am with child. Our children will grow up together, Pandora. They shall be friends, and you will be glad you didn't do away with this little one."

"Oh, very well," Pandora finally agreed. "Honestly, Olympia, the care you have for my husband. If I didn't know how much you loved your own, I should be very suspicious of you." Then she laughed.

"It is a tragedy you do not love Septimius," had been the response.

"But he loves me," Pandora said, a hint of triumph in her voice. "He will always love me no matter what, Olympia. I will agree to have this last child for him. But no more! I gained over an inch in my waist with our son. I don't want to look like those fat old sows who sit around the room at the local balls. I never want to grow old!"

The knowledge of his wife's perfidy had been a knife to his heart. He had known Pandora didn't love him. As far as he could see she loved no one except herself. But Allegra had been born. Then when his daughter was not quite two, Pandora had run away with her lover, an Italian count, Giancarlo di Rossi. Septimius had divorced her. The permission to do so hadn't been difficult to obtain. To his surprise she had written him afterward thanking him for making it possible to marry her lover. He had never heard from her again, although he suspected Olympia did now and again; but then Olympia had always had a good heart.

He heard the rain suddenly beating against the windows of his library and laughter in the foyer of the house. Then the library door opened and Allegra came in with young Rupert Tanner at her heels.

"Ohh, Papa! The most exciting thing has happened. Ocky has asked Sirena to marry him! They have gone to tell Aunt. And here is Rupert up from the country. What did you want to see me about?"

"I wish to speak with you in private, Allegra," Lord Morgan said. "Rupert, where are you staying?"

"Allegra invited me to stay here, my lord," he answered.

"I regret that will not be convenient. I'm certain that young Pickford will put you up. That house of his father's is more like a men's club right now. Actually you will be much more comfortable there."

"Papa!"

"Sit down, Allegra," her father said.

"Thank you, sir, for the suggestion," Rupert said politely. "Shall I see you tonight at Almack's? You do have tickets, don't you?"

"Yes," Lord Morgan replied. Nothing more.

"Then I bid you good day until the evening," the young man responded and departed, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"How could you refuse Rupert your hospitality, Papa?" Allegra demanded angrily. "He is our neighbor, and I have known him my whole life."

"It would not be appropriate for him to visit with us now, Allegra," her father said quietly.

"Why not?" Allegra's violet eyes were stormy with her disapproval.

"Because this afternoon I contracted a match for you with the Duke of Sedgwick," came the startling answer.

"No!"

"He has agreed to all my terms without a quiver-remarkable for a gentleman who is so prideful," Lord Morgan noted.

"And so poor!" Allegra snapped back. "He is a fortune hunter, Papa. Surely you must know it."

"Any man who looks to wed you is a fortune hunter, my dear daughter," Lord Morgan said. "I am, after all, the richest man in England. At least Quinton Hunter has something to offer in exchange for a fortune. His is the bluest blood in England, and he is going to make you a duchess, Allegra. His duchess. Your children will from their birth be at the pinnacle of society."

"The family are notorious gamblers, Papa," Allegra said.

"He has never gambled, my dear, and has an intense dislike of it, for it has brought him to the brink of poverty."

"And so he is forced by his circumstances to wed me. A young lady of less than peerless social standing and background. No! I will not do it, Papa. I shall marry Rupert Tanner, who at least likes me," Allegra declared defiantly.

"Do not be foolish, Allegra. I have already refused young Lord Ackerly's suit. I will not permit you to throw yourself away on a second son. You don't love Rupert in any event."

"We shall elope to Gretna Green," Allegra insisted.

"If you do I shall disinherit you, my dear, and I shall make certain both young Rupert and his father know it. You will not appear very attractive in their eyes without your fortune, Allegra. This is the harsh reality of your situation. Have I not taught you that marriages are arranged to better each family involved? In this instance you will take a huge step up the social ladder. The duke, on the other hand, will regain a comfortable income in exchange. It is not a difficult task to marry this man. You are merely required to behave like the lady you are, be a gracious hostess, and produce a nursery for your husband. He has given me his word you will be treated with kindness."

Allegra burst into tears. "I hate him!" she sobbed piteously. "And he hates me." She sniffed.

"You started off badly, I will agree," Lord Morgan said, "but that was your fault, Allegra. When he asked you for a dance at Lady Bellingham's ball and you refused him, he saw the empty dance card. He punished you by making certain everyone thought your card was full so you danced with no one except him. You are still angry that you have been unable to repay him in kind, but I know how you can revenge yourself," her father finished with a twinkle.

Allegra's look was distinctly interested. "How, Papa?" she asked her father.

"By marrying him, my dear. While I trust Quinton Hunter to keep his word to me regarding his behavior toward you, I know that it chafes him that he must take a wife to save his estates. Worse, that bride is not, he believes, his equal socially. That is your not so subtle revenge upon this man. Whatever he may believe, you are most certainly his equal, for his bloodline and your wealth balance each other out. You know it. He may never accept it, and that, my dear daughter, will give you an advantage over this man. But one day when you know each other better, you will, I suspect, soothe his pride so that he believes he has at long last won the battle between you."

The realization of Lord Morgan's words sank into her conscience. Suddenly Allegra smiled. "Ohh, Papa, how clever you are! I have been so angry I have not been thinking straight."

"The duke will meet us tonight at Almack's Rooms," Lord Morgan told his daughter. "I thought we would announce your engagement the night of your ball."

"When will we be married'?" Allegra asked her father.

"Not until the autumn. Your new home needs a great deal of renovation. I shall arrange to hire an architect and send him down to Hunter's Lair with a party of workmen next week. I think you will have to spend part of your summer overseeing the work and choosing your decorations. Where would you like to go on a honeymoon trip?"

"I must think about it, Papa. Just getting used to the idea of marrying the Duke of Sedgwick is enough for me now." She arose from her chair and kissed his cheek. "Forgive my earlier outburst," she said. "May I tell Sirena?"

"Not quite yet, my dear. Let your cousin have her moment in the sun. Hers is the more unusual of the two matches for she and young Pickford are genuinely in love. They are most fortunate."

"Am I not fortunate also, Papa?" Allegra asked him. "After all, I am to be a duchess, the wife of the man with the bluest blood in all of England."

"You are fortunate, Allegra," Lord Morgan assured his daughter. "Quinton Hunter has no stain upon his reputation. He will be a good husband to you, my dear. See that you are as good a wife."

"I will be, Papa. After I get used to the idea of it," she amended her promise.

"Wear one of your prettiest dresses tonight," Lord Morgan advised her. "And, I shall see that both you and Sirena have beautiful wedding gowns and trousseaux. You have both done very well for your families and I am proud of my pair of girls."

"Ohh, Papa, what will you do without me?" Allegra wondered. Then she brightened. "Why, Papa, you must marry Aunt Olympia!"

Lord Morgan flushed beet red. "God's mercy, Allegra, whatever made you say a thing like that?"

Allegra looked hard at her father whose features bore a distinctly guilty look of sorts. "Perhaps," she said, "I say it because I realize that you and my aunt suit. She is a respectable widow, and you the injured party in a divorce settled years ago. Do you really want her to go back to that tiny dower house at Rowley? Would she not grace your table once I am gone, Papa? Be a most amenable companion?"

"You are too clever by far, you minx," he replied. "I will admit to you that I have considered marrying again. Do you not think, Allegra, that if I choose your aunt there might be gossip?"

"If I have learned one thing this season, Papa, it is that there will always be gossip, even of the most innocent situation. You and my aunt are perfect for one another. I shall, of course, say nothing of our conversation, Papa, but I should not be unhappy if you wed Aunt Olympia one day."

"It pleases me that I have your blessing," he replied dryly.

Allegra laughed. "I had best decide what to wear to Almack's this evening," she said, kissing his brow. Then she hurried from the room and ran upstairs to her aunt's rooms where she knew Sirena and Ocky would now be. "Are you pleased, Aunt?" she asked as she entered Lady Abbott's apartment. "Sirena has bagged herself a lovely viscount."

"Allegra!" her aunt cried, flushing, for that was exactly what she had been thinking. She could barely wait to tell Augustus.

"Do you really think I'm lovely?" Viscount Pickford asked, chuckling. "I don't think I've ever been called lovely before."

"Definitely lovely," Allegra responded. "I think my cousin most fortunate, as are you, Ocky. May you have many happy years."

Sirena burst into tears. "Ohh, if only you would find the same happiness that 1 have found," she sobbed.

"The richest girl in England must settle, dearest coz, for a splendid title, and I will. True love is most rare as we all know, Sirena. You and Ocky are among the more fortunate." Then Allegra turned to Viscount Pickford. "Ocky, will you allow Rupert Tanner to stay with you? Papa feels gossip might ensue if he remained here, especially as Papa turned down Lord Ackerly's proposal for my hand. He's a very nice fellow as I am certain you have already ascertained."

"Of course he may stay with us," Viscount Pickford replied.

"Thank you, Lovely," Allegra responded mischievously. "I must go and choose a gown for Almack's tonight. Lord, for all their pretensions it is a dreary place. The rooms are quite unattractive, and the dance floor dreadful. As for the supper, we shall not even mention it, but then one does not go to Almack's to eat, but to be seen." Blowing them all a kiss she departed her aunt's chamber.

"She can be so outrageous," Lady Abbott said weakly. "I don't know what you must think of her, Octavian."

"I think she is charming, madame," the viscount responded. "And as Sirena loves her so dearly, that is good enough for me."

The subject of their conversation hurried to her own rooms where her maid, Honor, was sitting, sewing the hem on a gown that had been torn. "What shall we wear tonight?" Allegra said as she entered.

"Is it important?" Honor asked her mistress.

"Yes," Allegra said, "I believe it is."

"Ohh, miss, tell me, do!" Honor begged.

"Not yet," Allegra said, "but soon, Honor."

Putting her sewing aside, the maid arose. "There is a lovely gown you haven't yet worn." She ran to the wardrobe, and drew a garment out. "Here it is!" She held it out for Allegra's perusal.

Allegra nodded her approval. The high-waisted gown was striped with broad bands of pink and cream watered silk. The elbow-length sleeves dripped lace. The rounded neckline was fashionably low.

"We can pick some of them beautiful pink roses from the garden for your hair, miss," Honor said. "And you can wear that sweet pink cameo on the gold chain your pa just bought you, and pearl earbobs."

"I will want a bath," Allegra replied.

"Is it true Lady Sirena is marrying that handsome viscount she's been keeping company with all season?" Honor hung the gown out.

"How do you servants learn all the gossip so quickly?" Allegra laughed. "That has always fascinated me."

"Damaris was there when Lady Sirena and her beau come up to her mother's rooms," Honor said. "She came to tell me right away. To brag was more likely," Honor told her mistress a trifle sourly. "She sometimes gets above herself, does Damaris."

"I'll make you proud soon enough," Allegra promised her maid.

They left for Almack's Assembly Rooms in King Street just before ten o'clock that evening. As Allegra had noted earlier the rooms were not particularly distinguished, but Almack's was considered the place to be and be seen in London society. Founded in 1765 by Mr. McCall, exclusivity was its trademark. Balls were held each Wednesday during the season. Low-level gambling was allowed.

One did not simply go to Almack's. Its patronesses issued vouchers to the chosen, and that voucher allowed one to purchase a ticket into the social heaven. Rank and wealth were important, but not a guarantee of acceptance by the patronesses, of whom Lady Bellingham was currently one.

It was at the Bellingham ball that the season's crop of young ladies were observed by the patronesses. They then met to decide who would be allowed into Almack's that season and who would not. It was a near thing for Allegra despite her father's wealth, for the patronesses had noted she danced only one dance. The last dance. Gaining their sworn agreement that they would not tell the tale, Lady Bellingham explained that the Duke of Sedgwick had been the first to ask Allegra for a dance, and shy, she had said her card was full, when indeed it was not. The duke, however, had seen the empty card, and played a wicked trick on poor Miss Morgan, for he had taken umbrage at her refusal.

"Poor child," Lady Markham, one of the other patronesses said sympathetically. "Sedgwick is as handsome as the devil himself, but overproud. Of course an inexperienced girl would have been terrified."

The other ladies murmured in agreement as Lady Bellingham continued her story. And when she had finished they all assented that dear Miss Morgan must certainly be issued a voucher, along with her pretty little cousin, Lady Sirena Abbott. Olympia Abbott knew that it was thanks to her friend that both her daughter and her niece were admitted to the sacred circle that Almack's was acknowledged to be. She was quite deeply in Lady Bellingham's debt now.

The dances deemed acceptable by the patronesses of Almack's were English country dances, Scotch reels, the contredanse, the écossaise, the cotillion, and the minuet. While the popularity of the minuet had waned in France with the revolution, each ball at Almack's opened and closed with one. And after each dance, the young lady was promptly returned to her mama or her chaperone by her gentleman, who bowed politely to the older lady; and if interested, or encouraged, remained to chat.

After her first disastrous ball Allegra found herself most popular, to her amusement. She knew it was her fortune that attracted the gentlemen to her like flies to a honeypot. Some were genuinely pleasant young men, and several she grew to like for their clever repartee and quick wit. Others were outright fortune hunters, and not at all subtle about it. After all, a girl with a rich father and a barely new title should be delighted that men of family and background were paying attention to her. Allegra was not. Her suitors were at first confused, then horrified, and at last insulted when Allegra, who had little patience with pretensions, cheerfully sent them packing.

They arrived at the King Street assembly rooms and were admitted by the concierge, who greeted them by name, bowing as he did so. Once inside they found seats, and sat waiting for the ball to begin. Lord Morgan hurried off to find the gambling. The Marquess of Rowley and his wife arrived, and approached Lady Abbott.

"Sirena, darling! Such wonderful news!" Charlotte gushed. "Have you decided upon a date?"

"Lower your voice, Charlotte," Lady Abbott said angrily. "There has not yet been a formal announcement. You will embarrass us all."

"I have not yet thought about a wedding date," Sirena said softly. "I suppose Ocky and I should discuss it as we have his father's approval."

"June!" Charlotte enthused. "You will make the most divine June bride, Sirena. At St. George's in Hanover Square, of course. Gussie and I will host a wedding breakfast at the house for you afterward."

"If Sirena decides upon June," Lady Abbott said, "I am certain Septimius will have the wedding breakfast. After all, dear, his home is better suited to such an affair than your tiny house."

The smile disappeared from Charlotte's face. She turned to Allegra. "Still no luck, Miss Morgan?" she murmured with false sympathy. "Well, they do say that money cannot buy everything."

Allegra laughed. "Do not be ridiculous, Lady Charlotte. Of course it can. By season's end I quite expect to be betrothed." She smiled sweetly at her cousin's wife.

"I cannot imagine to whom," Charlotte said softly.

"Good evening, Lady Abbott, Lady Sirena, Miss Morgan," the Duke of Sedgwick said. "Gussie, Lady Charlotte." He bowed elegantly.

"Good evening, Your Grace," they all chorused but Allegra. She was far too busy really looking for the first time at the man she was to marry. Impressive, she decided silently, but a snob.

"I understand from my friend, Viscount Pickford, that congratulations are in order, Lady Sirena."

Sirena blushed becomingly and half whispered, "Yes, Your Grace." She looked about. "Is not Ocky with you?"

"But a few steps behind, Lady Sirena," the duke assured her. Then he turned to Allegra. "Miss Morgan, if you will allow me." He took her dance card from her, and wrote his name in the first and last slots with the tiny quill provided. "And you will, of course, allow me to escort you into supper afterward."

"Of course, Your Grace," Allegra replied meekly, and she curtsied.

He looked sharply at her, and seeing the deviltry in her violet eyes, laughed. Taking her hand up he kissed it, then bowed, and walked away.

"Well," Charlotte said meanly, "I'm not surprised that a man like that would be paying Miss Morgan attention." She sniffed audibly.

"Like what, madame?" Allegra responded in icy tones.

"Well, my dear Miss Morgan, the man hasn't a ha'penny to his name. Everyone knows that. He only pays you court because of your father's wealth. Surely you harbor no girlish illusions about him. For all his pretensions I think him rather rough looking. Not at all handsome or refined. They say he lives in one room, for the rest of his house is falling down about him."

"But a rich wife would certainly correct that situation for him, don't you think, madame?" Allegra said sweetly.

"He would marry you for your wealth, if indeed he could even bring himself to make such an alliance," Charlotte went on.

"And I will marry for the grandest title I can obtain in exchange for my father's wealth," Allegra replied.

"To say such a thing is most indelicate and ungenteel," Charlotte responded, shocked by Allegra's frankness.

"Nonsense, madame! Did you not marry my cousin Gussie for his title? After all, a marquess certainly outranks your papa. As the Marchioness of Rowley you outrank your mama, your sister-in-law, and your sisters. What a coup your marriage was for you. Why should I not contract an alliance offering me similar advantages?" Allegra smiled.

Sirena stared openmouthed at her cousin's forthrightness. Lady Abbott was considering swooning. Charlotte had finally been rendered speechless, and the Marquess of Rowley burst out laughing.

"What is so funny?" Viscount Pickford inquired as he joined them.

"Allegra has just given my wife a most proper dressing-down," Gussie answered him plainly. "Too confusing to explain. Ahh, the musicians are tuning up. We'll be dancing soon enough. Congratulations, my dear Ocky, and you most certainly have my blessings. My little sister will make you a splendid wife. You'll be good to her, I know."

"I will, Gussie," Viscount Pickford assured his future brother-in-law. "I will."

The strains of the minuet began, and the Duke of Sedgwick was suddenly there, taking Allegra's hand to lead her off into the figure. They danced well together, but silently. Charlotte was wrong, Allegra considered to herself. Quinton Hunter was extremely handsome, and then realizing he was looking at her, she lowered her gaze. Wealth and beauty, he thought to himself as they danced. It was certainly a better fate than he had anticipated. And he would he able to buy his horses back.

As he led her back to her aunt, he said softly, "Your father has spoken to you, Miss Morgan?"

"He has, and under the circumstances I think you are permitted to call me by my Christian name," Allegra responded.

"I shall come for you at supper, Allegra," he told her. Then he bowed, and turned away.

She danced with a succession of young men, most of whom mouthed inanities at her in an effort to gain her favor. She smiled at some, ignored others. She was suddenly impatient to know more about this man she was suddenly told she was to marry. She almost cheered when the midnight interval came and the Duke of Sedgwick returned to claim her company. "I want nothing more than a lemonade," she told him. "The lemonade is passable."

"The wine is not," he replied dryly, "but we drink it anyhow."

The refreshments obtained, they repaired to a secluded bench in a small alcove. Seated, Allegra took the silver cup of lemonade from his hand, and invited him to sit also. They each sipped their cups in relative silence, and then he finally spoke.

"Are you content to be the Duchess of Sedgwick, Allegra?"

"If you are content to have me be," she replied.

"You are practical," he said. Or was she cold, he wondered?

Allegra sighed. "My father loved my mother. She wed him only for his money, and then one day she did fall in love. She ran away, leaving him, my brother, and me. I do not remember her, although my brother did. He said she was very beautiful, but cold. It was from my father I learned about love, but his love is that of a parent for his child. I know nothing of the love a man and a woman share. I have been told my whole life that while my mother's behavior was shocking and quite unforgivable, it was out of the ordinary. I have been told that marriages are arranged between families for the purpose of bettering each family involved.

"In our case you will marry me for my money, and the great inheritance my father will bequeath upon me one day. I will marry you because you will elevate me socially. The reasoning behind our match is sensible and pragmatic. Unlike my mother, I like children, and shall be happy to bear them for you. I will respect you as my husband, and be faithful always. Deceit is not in my nature, Your Grace."

He was astounded by her candid words. She had been honest with him to a fault, and he could be no less so with her. "I come," he said, "from a family of romantic men and women. My father, my grandfather, my antecedents before them, all married for love, and were very happy. Sadly, however, the men in my family were also unrepentant gamblers. Worse, when they lost the women they loved through death, they drank. I have one of the oldest names in England, and certainly it is said of me, the bluest blood. But, Allegra, I haven't a shilling to my name. I am taking a wife to restore my family's fortunes. I had to sell two of my best breeding mares in order to afford my sortie into London this season. I am indeed marrying you for your wealth, but I promise you that I will be a good husband to you. I am no tyrant."

"Then, Your Grace, we understand each other perfectly," Allegra replied. She took a sip of her lemonade for her throat was dry with a nervousness she hid well.

"My name is Quinton," he said quietly.

"Quinton," she responded softly.

A shiver rippled down his back, at once both startling and confusing.

"I thought," Allegra continued, "that we might be married in the autumn; but with your permission I shall come to Hunter's Lair this summer to oversee its renovations. If we are wed in early October, we can be prepared to host your friends in November at a hunt."

"How do you know we hunt?" he asked her.

"Everyone knows that Hunter's Lair, despite being in Hereford, is famous for its hunting. I do not hunt, however. I dislike killing animals, Quinton, so while I will see to our guests and their other entertainments, I will not go careening about the countryside chasing after some poor fox or deer, while clinging to a horse in a voluminous skirt. When I ride, I do so in breeches. I hope you are not shocked. Aunt Olympia claims that gentlemen are shocked by ladies astride."

"Do you have pretty legs, Allegra?" he asked teasingly.

"You shall be the judge of that eventually, Quinton," she answered pertly, "but whether I do or not, I will still ride astride."

He was forced to laugh. "You are very forthright," he told her.

"I do not know how to be any other way," she said.

"Good," he replied. "Then we shall have no secrets from each other, Allegra. Tell me about Rupert Tanner."

"We grew up together," she responded, surprised by the question.

"He says he wants to marry you," the duke said.

"Oh, that is his papa's idea," Allegra told the duke with a small smile. "He is a second son. When my papa said I had to come to London to find a husband, Rupert and I decided we would tell Papa we wanted to wed. That way I should be married to someone I knew, and wouldn't have to leave my home. Of course his papa was delighted by such a suggestion, while mine was not. I do not love Rupert, nor does he love me. There was no arrangement between us, formal, or informal," Allegra finished.

"Then your father may announce our betrothal at your ball in two weeks' time. You are to be presented at court next week, I am told," the duke said to her.

"Yes. I have to wear that awful dress with its huge hoop, and that absurd headdress. I shall be decked out in diamonds and other magnificent jewels like some pagan idol, I fear. I don't dare eat or drink a thing for hours before. It is, I have been told, impossible to use the necessary in such a garment. Is the old king really worth such effort, Quinton?"

"Your cousin will be with you, and as my future wife it is most important you make your debut before King George and Queen Charlotte," the duke responded quietly.

"But no one will know until my ball that we are to be wed," Allegra sighed. "I don't want to tell anyone so Sirena may have her day in the sun with Ocky. We both know any mention of our betrothal would overshadow them greatly, and I don't think that's fair."

"I agree," the duke replied, thinking that this girl for all her pride and wealth had a kind heart. He felt strangely relieved by the knowledge. They would, he decided, get on very well. "When will you come to Hunter's Lair?" he asked.

"I must go home first, but I should be able to come in early July. As I realize you will hardly be ready to host guests, I shall come with only my maid, Honor. There will be a certain amount of gossip about it, I am sure, but as our engagement will have already been announced and our wedding date set, I will not mind, if you do not."

"You are a sensible girl," he complimented her. Then taking her hand in his he looked into the violet eyes. "As I have your father's permission, Allegra, now I ask yours. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, Quinton, I will," she responded quietly, happy he could not know how quickly her heart was beating. "I will be honored to be your wife."

Chapter 4

On the night of the thirty-first of May every tree in Berkley Square was festooned with paper lanterns that glittered and lit up the area, making it a fairyland. Carriage after carriage slowly entered the square from the side streets, each waiting its turn to disembark its passengers before Lord Septimius Morgan's house. Once at their destination Lord Morgan's guests were greeted and helped from their vehicles by a seemingly endless stream of black and silver liveried footmen. A stately butler welcomed them at the door to the house as they entered. More footmen ushered them to the second floor where the ladies were invited to freshen themselves in a large windowed cloakroom with several screened necessaries, while the gentlemen in their separate facility did the same. There was much approval of this disposition for usually the sanitary arrangements were set in the corners of the ballroom behind their painted screens, and by evening's end the chamber stank.

Exiting the cloakrooms the guests were guided to the ballroom. They greeted their host and his daughter at its entrance, and were then announced to the company by a barrel-chested majordomo whose stentorian voice echoed throughout the entire area. Moving down two steps they entered Lord Morgan's ballroom into a crowd of London's most fashionable denizens.

No one had refused the invitation to Miss Morgan's ball. Prinny was coming, and just a few days ago a fascinating rumor had begun making the rounds that Miss Morgan's betrothal would be announced tonight, although to whom, no one had the faintest idea. She was always seen in the company of her cousin, Lady Sirena Abbott, Viscount Pickford, and their friends. She certainly hadn't seemed to have favored any one gentleman. It was a mystery, if indeed the rumor was even true.

Lady Bellingham sat smugly in her most fashionable silver and midnight blue ballgown. She and her husband had been the only invited guests to the dinner that preceded the ball. Of course the Dowager Marchioness of Rowley, her daughter, Viscount Pickford, the Marquess of Rowley, and his silly wife were there, but they were family. And then there had been the Duke of Sedgwick. Her interest was immediately engaged for she, too, had heard the rumors swirling about Allegra Morgan.

"Septimius?" she demanded questioningly. Her look went to Quinton Hunter, and then back again to her host.

"You will be the first to know, Clarice," he said softly, a twinkle in his eye. "Not even the family has been told yet. This dinner is for that purpose. Are you pleased?"

"Indeed I am," Lady Bellingham said. "Quinton's mother was my cousin, Vanessa Tarleton. She was the eldest daughter of the Marquess of Rufford. Had a dowry that would have embarrassed a farmer's gel, but of course Charles Hunter fell in love with her. She was a lovely creature. Died when Quinton was eleven, and his brother, George, six. She gave birth to a tiny girl, and then gave up the ghost. The child died several hours later. It was buried in her arms. A great tragedy. Charles drank himself to death after he had gambled away what little he had left. Old Rufford saw his grandsons were educated, but it was a strain on his finances, and most of his own estate was entailed upon his eldest son and heir. My mother was Rufford's younger sister. Quinton is a very proud man, but he is honorable, Septimius."

"So I have gathered by his conduct towards Allegra, Clarice. He has behaved with the utmost delicacy and kindness. Allegra would never admit to it, of course, but she is very concerned about doing the right thing once she is the Duchess of Sedgwick."

"Nothing the matter with your gel, Septimius. She will do very well, and I can promise you she is going to be an outstanding duchess," Lady Bellingham said with a reassuring smile. "What a coup, Septimius! All of London will be talking about it come tomorrow." She chuckled.

Clarice Bellingham smiled a smugly satisfied smile as she looked out over the ballroom. Oh yes, they would all be mightily surprised by Miss Morgan's catch. There would be some, of course, who would sneer that it was her money, and indeed it was. Her money, and his title. But Allegra Morgan would be a duchess. Wife to the man with the bluest blood in all of England. Without much hope Quinton had come to London seeking a wife; and by God he had landed the prize of this or any other season. And his friends had not done so badly either. Young Pickford and sweet Sirena. The Earl of Aston who had found a wife in the current Marquess of Rufford's middle daughter, Eunice; and Lord Walworth, who to his surprise, had been snapped up by her own niece, Caroline Bellingham. Oh, yes, it had indeed been a most successful season!

The orchestra on its dais suddenly struck up a ruffle and flourish. Escorted by his host, Prinny entered the room, followed by Allegra. Lord Morgan nodded to the musicians, and the strains of the minuet began. The prince bowed to Allegra, who curtsied beautifully, and together they danced most gracefully. When they had finished the ballroom was filled with the thunder of clapping. Prince George, better known as Prinny, was a handsome man of thirty, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a pink complexion. He and Allegra had made a most attractive couple. Escorting her back to her father, he bowed to them both.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Allegra said, and she curtsied again.

"If Your Highness will allow me," Lord Morgan said, "I have an announcement to make."

"Is it her betrothal?" Prinny said excitedly.

Lord Morgan nodded with a smile. The prince was a bit childish and loved secrets. "To the Duke of Sedgwick," he told Prinny softly, satisfying his overweening curiosity.

"I say!" the prince replied. "A fine catch for you, Miss Morgan, and an even better one for Sedgwick. You both have my congratulations. Sedgwick," he spoke to the duke who had now joined them, "you really ought to gamble for you seem to have the damndest good fortune. Not only a beautiful gel, but a rich one as well!" He chuckled, well pleased, as if he had been responsible for the whole situation. "Well, Morgan, make your announcement so I can go and gamble," Prinny said with another chuckle.

Lord Morgan nodded again to the musicians who played an elegant tah-rah. Stepping up upon the dais he said, "My lords, ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor, and the pleasure to announce my daughter, Allegra's, betrothal to Quinton Hunter, the Duke of Sedgwick."

A burst of excited applause broke out, but before the couple might be overwhelmed by congratulations, the musicians began to play a country reel. The guests were forced to begin dancing once again. Sirena, however, managed to evade the dancers, and take her cousin aside.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, outraged. "We have never before kept secrets from each other."

"Because I wanted you and Ocky to enjoy all the attention generated from your betrothal. If I had told you that the duke and I were also betrothed, it would have hardly remained a secret, Sirena."

"When did he ask you?" Sirena asked, excitedly.

"He and Papa came to an arrangement several weeks ago, and then he asked me," Allegra answered her cousin.

"Do you love him?" Sirena's pretty face was anxious.

"I barely know him," Allegra replied.

"Then how can you marry him?" Sirena almost wailed.

"Sirena, my dearest romantic little cousin, he is the Duke of Sedgwick. How can I not marry him?" Allegra replied.

"That is so cold!" Sirena cried, her brown eyes filling with tears.

"No, it is being practical," Allegra told her quietly. "I must be married, dearest one. Whoever I wed marries me for my money. How can I ever believe otherwise? You and Ocky marry for love, but few in our class have that luxury, sweeting. I am quite satisfied with this arrangement, I assure you."

"As am I," the duke said, joining them. "Please do not fret yourself, Lady Sirena. I intend taking good care of your cousin."

"Come, sweetheart, I want to dance," Viscount Pickford said as he also joined them. "People will talk if we do not, Sirena. Then all those husband-hunting gels will be after me again, and it will be all your fault, my darling," he teased her, leading her away.

"She loves you very much," the duke remarked.

"I love her," Allegra replied. She slipped her hand through his arm. "Should we not also dance, my lord?"

"I dislike dancing," he replied.

"So do I," she admitted, "but it is my ball, and tongues will wag if we are not seen together tripping the light fantastic."

He laughed. "What a fine sense of propriety you have, Allegra. You really are a very sensible young woman. More like your father than your mother, I think. You will not fall in love with someone else and leave me."

"But you might fall in love one day and leave me," she countered.

"I do not believe in love," he said truthfully. "Love is the cause of more difficulties on this earth than even money, or the lack of it. Since by marrying you I become a rich man, and since I don't hold with the chimera of love, there is little likelihood that I will ever leave you, Allegra."

"You may change your mind when I begin restoring Hunter's Lair, Quinton," she teased him. "From what I have been told, I shall need to expend a small fortune on it."

He laughed again. "I love the old place," he admitted, "but I know it could use a bit of sprucing up. It is yours to do with as you will, my dear. Just leave the Great Hall for my hunting parties."

"I agree," she told him with a smile. "Now escort me back to the dance floor, and let us make everyone here tonight envious of us."

"Why, Miss Morgan," he teased back, "what a naughty girl you are. I did not expect it from such a proper young woman, but it is not an unwelcome side of you, I am thinking."

"We shall have the summer to know each other better," she replied. "I hope we shall still like each other when the summer ends. It will make for a much better marriage if we like one another, Quinton."

He thought about her last remark afterward. She was a practical girl, but he sensed in her a vulnerability that he would wager even she wasn't aware of in herself. For all her intelligence, and a season in London, she was still an innocent at heart. He found that he wanted to protect Allegra from any hurt. Then he smiled to himself. It would seem that no man could be free of a woman's charms. When earlier that evening he had given her an amethyst ring set round with diamonds as a token of their pledge, she had almost squealed, catching herself in midcry. It had both touched and amused him.

"It is beautiful. How could you afford such a ring?" she demanded.

"It is a family piece," he told her. "One of the few that did not go to pay gambling debts. I chose it because its deep color reminded me of your eyes, Allegra."

Her mouth fell open in surprise. Then catching herself she closed it, saying, "What a lovely thing to say, my lord." She held out her hand, admiring the ring some more.

He took her hand, and kissed it. "I may not love you, Allegra, but it is not difficult to say lovely things to you, my dear."

"I am sorry I didn't have this ring when I made my bow at court. All the other girls, especially the ones who were so high-flown with me, would have been pea green with envy!"

"Your curtsey put the others to shame," he told her. "It was every bit worthy of a Duchess of Sedgwick."

"I am amazed that I did not topple over in that ridiculous gown," she told him. "One had to go sideways through the doors with those huge hoop skirts. It was all I could do not to fall on my bottom when I bowed. And the neckline was cut so fashionably low that my bosom was all but exposed to King George. But he didn't seem to mind. As for the wig I had to wear, it weighed practically as much as a coach and four, Quinton. I thought my neck would crack with its weight."

"I thought the doves flying amid the diamonds a rather nice touch," he remarked, his silvery eyes twinkling.

Allegra laughed. "I vow, sir, if it were possible to use live birds some ambitious mama would do it. I prefer simple clothing."

Like the gown she was wearing tonight, he thought as they danced the final minuet of the evening. Her high-waisted dress was a cream damask silk with an overskirt of shimmering sheer gold silk. Her little gold slippers peeped from beneath the gown, and gold ribbons were entwined amid her dark curls. Her slender neck was encircled with a strand of pearls, and she wore pearl ear-bobs in her ears. The effect was both elegant, rich, and yet simple. Looking really closely at her tonight he realized for the first time how absolutely beautiful Allegra was. Oh, yes, he had seen she was a beauty prior, and God only knows everyone said it. Rich and beautiful was all he heard this evening as he was congratulated. But he had not until now truly looked at Allegra.

Her heart-shaped face was perfectly formed. Her nose was straight, and just tilted ever so tightly up at its tip. Her eyebrows were thick and black, a sign of her Welsh heritage. Her violet-colored eyes, large and luminous, were edged with a heavy fall of black lashes. Her lower lip was fuller than the upper. It was a sensuous and tempting little mouth. He was even now contemplating kissing it. She was tall for a girl, but certainly not too tall for him. She was slender of limb, but her bosom was delightfully round and nicely shaped. He estimated one of her breasts would fit quite perfectly into one of his palms.

It was then he considered the possibility of bedding Allegra. He wasn't certain how he would go about such a thing with a wife. She would, of course, be a virgin. He had never had a virgin. The fact that he didn't love her bothered him not at all. He had never been in love with any of the women he had lain with, but this would, of course, be different. Allegra would be his wife. Could a man love a woman he bedded? Could a wife arouse his desires? Or was passion just a deliciously lustful pastime? And how would an amicably bred girl react to passion? He would have to be tender and gentle with her.

"The dance has ended, Quinton," he suddenly heard Allegra's voice saying. "Please pay attention, my lord, or you will have the gossips chattering about how moonstruck you are. What on earth are you thinking about?"

"Bedding you," he answered her honestly, and was rather pleased to see the blush that came to her cheeks. Innocence was a powerful aphrodisiac he was learning, feeling a distinct tightness in his breeches.

"Ohh," she said, and began to worry her lower lip with her small white teeth. "I had not yet considered that part of our marriage."

After the guests had departed, he led her out onto the terrace that overlooked the garden. He sat her down upon a marble bench, and took her hand in his. "You told me you wanted children, Allegra." His eyes scanned her face for the truth.

"Oh, I do," she answered him quickly.

"Then we must consummate our marriage, my dear. It is the only way we shall obtain children," the duke explained, hoping such frankness would not shock or frighten her.

"I am not a fool, Quinton!" Allegra said sharply. "I know how children are conceived. I would be a complete puddinghead if I didn't. Every girl knows, even if she feigns ignorance."

"But you said…," he began.

"I said I had not yet considered that part of our marriage, and I haven't, but I know it must exist between us eventually," Allegra replied. "Do not rush me, sir. I have never even been kissed."

"That is something I can put aright now," he told her. Then he touched her lips with his fingertips even as Allegra's eyes grew wide. Her lips had a texture like rose petals. The duke tilted Allegra's face up to his and kissed her gently, his mouth pressing lightly against hers. Shyly she kissed him back, and the sweetness emanating from her lips overwhelmed him, shocked him, sent his senses reeling.

"That was very nice," Allegra told him. "Are you a good kisser, my lord? You see I shall never know another man's lips, so I am naturally curious as to what your lovers have thought."

He was torn by twin urges. The first was laughter. The second was shock at her candidness. "None of the ladies I have kissed, Allegra, has ever voiced displeasure," he replied.

She sighed. "They probably wouldn't unless you were absolutely awful at it. Women tend to be like that I have observed. We prefer peace."

He felt irritated. "I am quite certain," he said, "that I am an excellent kisser, Allegra. I cannot imagine why you should even ask such a question."

"Oh, dear, I have ruffled your feathers, haven't I, my lord? I am sorry." But the smile upon her pretty lips contradicted her apology.

"Shall I obtain a list of satisfied ladies for you to query?" he demanded, refusing to let the matter rest. It was her first kiss, or so she claimed. She should have been thrilled down to her toes instead of demanding references attesting to his skills as a lover.

Allegra heard the annoyance in his voice, and now it was she who found herself irritated. "I am curious, Quinton," she told him. "I have been taught that curiosity isn't a mortal sin, but rather to be cultivated. As I told you, I have never before been kissed by a gentleman. I am sorry if my interest offended you. If you mean to wed me then you will have to get used to it, I fear."

"I shall also have to get used to your bluntness," he replied, his tone still distinctly annoyed.

Allegra burst out laughing. "Gracious, sir, we are having our first quarrel, and we are not even wed. I will wager that Sirena and Ocky have not quarreled yet."

"They are in love. Cow-eyed, and moonstruck," he answered her, a faint hint of scorn in his voice.

"And we are not in love," Allegra said. She wasn't certain now how she felt about that fact. Then she shook herself inwardly. Love led only to betrayal and unhappiness. Better a couple suit.

"You do not hold a grudge, do you?" the duke said to her, his humor beginning to return.

"Not often," she responded with a small smile.

"Ahh, here you are, my dears." Her aunt came out into the wide terraced balcony. "Your papa was looking for you, Allegra, but I see that you are fine. I shall tell him." She smiled and hurried off again.

"Would you like to see the sunrise?" the duke asked.

"In London? Such a thing isn't possible," Allegra replied.

"We can take my coach and drive outside the city. There is time," he said. "Perhaps Ocky and Sirena would like to come with us."

"If you can manage to live with their constant billing and cooing," Allegra told him, "I suppose I can, too."

He laughed. "Is that your subtle way of saying you want to be alone with me, Allegra?"

"We are to be married in a few months' time, Quinton. I want to know you better," she said. "If you would really like my cousin and her affianced to come, however, I will send a servant for them."

"No," he said softly, and drew her into the circle of his arms. "I want to get to know you better, too, Allegra." He looked down into her small face, a half smile upon his lips.

Her heart hammered suddenly. Damn, he was a handsome man! Those silvery gray eyes were mesmerizing. "Your eyelashes are surely longer than mine," she said breathily.

He smiled openly now. "Are they?"

"Yes!" she said. Then her eyes fastened upon the mouth that had earlier given her her first kiss. It was a big mouth, and yet it had an air of delicacy about it.

"I think, Allegra," the duke said, "that you need to be kissed once more before we go off to see the sunrise." Then he kissed her again, this time his arms wrapping themselves tightly about her, his mouth pressing harder against her lips.

A shiver raced down her spine. For the briefest moment she felt weak and helpless, then the feeling passed as quickly as it had come. When he drew away she smiled up at him, but this time she uttered not a word. She had learned after their first kiss that gentlemen didn't like to be questioned about their technique. As far as she was concerned his skills pleased her, and wasn't that enough? It was going to have to be, she reasoned to herself.

The duke called for his carriage while Allegra sought out her father to tell him where they were going.

"It was a wonderful ball, Papa," she said, finding him in his library with her aunt. "Thank you so very much." She kissed his cheek.

"And to think you are to be a duchess!" her aunt enthused excitedly. "What a naughty pair you two were keeping such news from me these past few weeks." She wagged a finger at them playfully.

"I wanted Sirena to have her due," Allegra replied. "You know quite well, Aunt Olympia, that had my betrothal been announced when Sirena's was, no one would have paid the least attention to my cousin at all. Part of having a successful season is having the people who thought little, or not at all of you, be astounded by your wonderful success in the husband hunt!" She laughed. "I doubt many thought that the modestly dowered baby sister of the Marquis of Rowley could bag an earl's heir, but Sirena did with her sweetness and her charm. I wanted her to enjoy her triumph, not have to bask in the shadow of mine."

Olympia Abbott's hand flew to her mouth to stifle her cry. Then the hand fell away and she said, "That you love my daughter so dearly, even as if she were your own sister, makes me so happy." Several tears slid down her cheeks with her pleasure.

"Now, now, my dear," Lord Morgan said, and leaning over he wiped the lady's tears from her cheek tenderly. "Of course Allegra loves Sirena like a sister, and have you not been a mother to my dearest child? The mother her own was not?"

"Ohh, Septimius," the good woman murmured, somewhat overcome.

"The duke and I are going to ride out and see the sunrise," Allegra said, wondering as she did if they even heard her. Then she departed the library, leaving her father and her aunt seemingly lost in each other. With a little encouragement he would marry her, Allegra thought, and it was, of course, the right thing to do.

The duke's black coach was wonderfully well sprung and quite comfortable inside. It was drawn by four bay horses with blond manes and tails. The coach took an easterly road leaving the city. Above them the sky was fading from black to a stone gray which eased into a blue that grew lighter and brighter. Atop a hill their vehicle stopped, and they descended into the road.

"Wait for us here," the duke ordered his coachmen, and then taking Allegra's hand they walked forward until ahead of them they could see the first faint ribbons of pink, peach, and lavender decorating the horizon. These colors were followed by a slash of red orange, and at last the sun. Red gold at first as it rose, mellowing as it slipped over the purview of the distant sea.

Allegra sniffed the fresh country air appreciatively. "Ahh, how good that smells," she said. "It seems we have been in town so long that I had almost forgotten what good country air is like. We shall go home after Sirena's wedding, and it cannot be soon enough for me!"

"You do not like London?" he asked.

"Oh, the city is a fine place to visit, but I certainly don't want to live there, Quinton," she told him. "Nor would I want to raise my children in London. Children need the countryside in which to ride, and to run barefoot through the dewy grass of a May morning." She flung out her arms and spun about. "Just a few more weeks, and I shall go home."

"Hunter's Lair will be your home soon," he told her.

"Is it beautiful?" she asked him.

"I think so," he said softly.

"Then I shall love it," Allegra told him.

"I think I had best get you home, Miss Morgan," the duke responded with a smile. "The sun is now up, and you have been dancing all night long." He took her by the hand again. "You danced very well with Prinny. You were every inch a Duchess of Sedgwick, my dear. I was proud."

"Were you?" Her tone indicated that she didn't really care if he was or not. "The prince is very handsome, but I think he is already running to fat. Did you see what he consumed at the supper buffet? I was astounded his waistcoat did not burst open with all the oysters he swallowed down so greedily."

"You will learn not to speak so frankly out of my company, won't you, Allegra?" the duke asked her.

"I am not such a ninny, Quinton, that I would offend the prince," she told him. "But I assume I may be honest with you."

"You must always be honest with me," he said as he helped her back into the coach.

She fell asleep on the ride back into town, her head against his shoulder. What an interesting girl she was, he thought. Mayhap it would not be such a bad match. She might not have a glittering pedigree, but she had manners and was as accomplished as any noble lady. Perhaps even more so. While extremely outspoken, he did not think she was flighty in the least. Her father said she knew how to manage her funds, and God knows that was more than most women knew. Quinton Hunter recalled an ancient aunt from his youth, now long dead. She was always saying he should marry someone of less vaunted family than his own.

"Get some new fresh blood into the line, boy," she would growl at him. "Overbreeding is the ruination of most good families, I tell you. A healthy wench will breed you up more sons than any high-flown miss. Remember what I say, boy!"

Strange that he did remember the old woman's words, but only now that he was betrothed to Miss Allegra Morgan. He turned his head to look down at her. Her dark curls were quite tumbled now. He gently fingered one, and a gentle whiff of her fragrance assailed his nostrils. It was the scent of lilacs, his favorite flowers. How odd, or wonderful, that it should be her perfume. Outside the coach windows the city was coming alive. The vehicle turned into Berkley Square and stopped before Lord Morgan's fine town house. The duke, unable to help himself, bent and kissed Allegra's smooth brow.

"You are home, my dear," he said quietly. "Wake up, now."

"Ummm." The violet eyes opened slowly in confusion and then comprehension, as she realized where she was. "I slept all the way homer" She sounded surprised.

A footman ran from the house to open the carriage door. He helped his young mistress to descend. The duke followed. In the round foyer he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips in farewell.

"I shall call for you at three o'clock this afternoon so we may promenade through the park in my landau. Now that we are formally engaged it will be expected that we be seen together daily."

"I have a fitting for my bridesmaid gown," Allegra said.

"At three?"

"I don't know when. I just know today," she replied.

"Have a footman bring 'round a note to me when you know," he said. Then he bowed, and turning, departed.

Slowly Allegra ascended the staircase. On the ballroom floor footmen and maidservants were still dismantling the décor. She climbed a second flight to the bedroom floor. Entering her bedchamber she saw that Honor, her maid, was sleeping in a chair beside the fading coals of a once-bright fire. "I'm back, Honor," she said.

The servant's eyes opened, and then seeing her mistress she jumped to her feet. "Ohh, Miss Allegra, what time is it?"

"Almost seven o'clock," Allegra answered glancing at the clock on her mantel.

"In the morning?" Honor sounded shocked. "Why Miss Allegra, you've been dancing all night long. Even after all these weeks in the city I'm not used to such hours as you have had to keep."

"We drove out to the countryside and saw the sunrise," Allegra told her maidservant.

"Who? Who was with you, and does your papa know?" Honor was seven years older than her mistress, and extremely protective. Like Allegra she had been born and raised at Morgan Court. She counted her young lady almost like family.

"Ohh, Honor! You do not know, and I promised to tell you. I am to marry the Duke of Sedgwick in the autumn. We are going to live in Hereford, not more than a day's journey from Morgan Court."

"That high-flown gentleman who spoiled your first ball? Is that the one you're going to marry? You can't love him, miss. Why you hardly know him," Honor said indignantly.

"That is why our marriage is scheduled for October, and not for June like Sirena's. Shortly after we get home we will go to Hunter's Lair so I may oversee the renovations and the restorations that are needed. I have to marry, Honor. You know that. The duke is, I am assured, an honorable man, but he is poor. I shall be a duchess when I become his wife. He shall be a rich man the moment he weds me. It is an ideal arrangement, and this summer we shall have the opportunity to become acquainted. There will be no surprises when we are married."

"There're always surprises, miss," Honor said dourly as she helped her mistress from her ball gown. "I wish that you could fall in love like Lady Sirena and her nice young gentleman. Your mama married for money, and look what happened there."

"But the duke's family always married for love, and now they are as poor as church mice," Allegra replied. "The duke and I are entering into this marriage with no illusions at all. I believe that I am actually beginning to like him, and I certainly think that he likes me. We shall become great friends, I am certain, and our marriage shall be quite successful, Honor. Now what time does Madame Paul arrive for my fitting?"

"Eleven o'clock, miss," was the response.

"Then I must get some rest before she comes," Allegra said. "Wake me at ten-thirty with a cup of hot chocolate. Madame can measure me here, and then I shall retire back to bed until I must get up and dressed to go out with the duke this afternoon."

"Yes, miss. Where will you be going so I may lay out the proper garments?" Honor asked.

"We are going riding in his landau through the park," Allegra said. "We are expected to be seen together now, and wish to show each other off to the envious ladies and gentlemen of the ten thousand." Allegra chuckled as she climbed into her bed. "Oh lord, Honor, I am so tired," she said, lying back. Her eyes closed, and she was suddenly fast asleep.

"Without even washing her face and hands," Honor said, shaking her head. "Poor lass. She'll be as glad as me to return to the country. This social life with all its running about isn't for us."

Madame Paul arrived promptly at eleven o'clock in the morning. She already knew about Allegra's engagement to the Duke of Sedgwick. "I shall take your measurements for your wedding gown as well, Miss Morgan," she said. "Of course you will want me to do it, won't you?"

"Of course," Allegra agreed, although the truth was she hadn't even considered her wedding gown yet. "I will come up to London in late September for a final fitting."

"Nonsense, I shall come to Morgan Court, miss. It wouldn't be proper for the future Duchess of Sedgwick to come into my shop," Madame Paul replied. "Francine, the bridesmaid's gown, if you please. Let us see what needs to be done."

Allegra was to be Sirena's attendant when she wed on the tenth of June. Her gown was high waisted with lace oversleeves. It was cream-colored silk sprigged with lilac flowers. A purple velvet ribbon ran beneath her breasts, and tied in a small bow at her back. She would wear a large summer straw hat trimmed with feathers and purple ribbons. "It's a lovely gown," Allegra told Madame Paul.

"It suits you," the Frenchwoman said quietly. "Now, Miss Morgan, let us allow you to return to bed. I shall come before you leave London so we may decide upon the material and style of your own wedding gown."

Back in her bed Allegra pondered on her new status. Madame had, of course, always been polite and deferential to her. She was after all the richest girl in England. But there was something different now. Some indefinable thing that had to do with becoming the Duchess of Sedgwick.

When Allegra was awakened next it was past two o'clock in the afternoon. "I want a bath," she said.

"There isn't time," Honor replied. "You won't be ready when the duke comes if you take a bath now."

"Then the duke will wait," Allegra responded. "I want a bath!"

"Yer not married yet," Honor grumbled going to the door and telling one of the footmen that "Miss" wanted the bath water brought.

"He'll not cry off because I took a bath," Allegra laughed. "After all, it's all for him, isn't it? Now, what dress have you picked for me to wear on our drive?"

Honor displayed the chosen garment. It was a simple gown of green-sprigged white muslin with a pleated hem, high waist, low neckline, and little puffed sleeves. A bright green ribbon tied about the waistline. The skirt was slightly puffed out in a style called bouffant.

Allegra giggled. "It's so virgin sacrifice," she said almost to herself. Still, she knew it was very appropriate. "It's quite nice, Honor," she told her maid. "No bonnet though. I shall carry a parasol instead. If I keep it open in the carriage I can protect my skin from the sun, but I will be quite visible to everyone. A bonnet would obscure my features. Let there be no mistake today that it is I with the duke, and not some other woman."

Honor shook her head. "I don't know you anymore," she said. "The city ain't good for you, Miss Allegra. I never knew you to be so… so deliberate."

"But I am, Honor, if only for a few more days. I think of all those girls who spoke to Sirena, but would deliberately ignore me because my papa was only Lord Morgan, and not an earl, or a duke, or some other high muckety-muck. How they scorned me for being the heiress of the richest man in England. I pretended not to notice those snubs, and even ignored them. But last night after my betrothal to the duke was announced, girls who had never uttered a word to me the entire season were suddenly fawning over me. Just because I am marrying a duke! Until we return home I have full intention of swanning about London with my prize catch. When I am the Duchess of Sedgwick, they shall all have to give way to me socially!"

"Miss Allegra!" Honor cried shocked. "I never knew you had such meanness and spite in you. Your papa and your aunt would be very unhappy to hear such words as I have just heard from your mouth."

"Ohh, Honor, I don't mean to be unkind, but you have no idea what it was like for me. If they weren't being snobbish about my lineage, they were jealous of Papa's wealth. In some cases both. I don't know what's wrong with having a fortune. While parents seem to approve of it, other young ladies don't." She laughed. "How ridiculous I must sound, dear Honor." Allegra hugged her servant. "Do not be angry at me. I promise I shall not be obnoxious about becoming a duchess. I shall only preen ever so slightly in public."

"Ohh, miss, I couldn't stay angry with you," Honor said with a reassuring smile. She was more aware than her young mistress knew of what the girl had had to put up with this season. The servants had a gossip mill that never closed. Still, Honor thought, her young lady was the best of them all no matter her breeding. And she'd have no one say otherwise!

The bath was made ready; the footmen hurrying up the back stairs with their buckets of hot water. Honor poured a bit of oil of lilac into the porcelain tub, and then set a painted screen about it so Allegra, who preferred bathing herself, could have some privacy. Then the maid laid out her mistress's petticoats and stockings. Allegra did not like the pink silk tights that were considered the height of fashion. She preferred stockings and garters.

When she had bathed, Allegra sat while Honor brushed her dark hair. Then she put on her stockings, which were held up with small garters sewn round with tiny rosettes; and two silk petticoats. She stood silent as Honor buttoned up her gown, and then sat while the maid dressed her hair into a mass of ringlets which she decorated with a bright green ribbon. Allegra then slipped her feet into balletlike slippers, and helped herself to a pair of coral earrings and a thin strand of coral beads to wear about her neck. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.

"I'll get yer parasol," Honor said as Allegra stood up. The clock on the mantle struck three.

Allegra smiled again. "You see, I shall not be late at all. Perhaps I should keep him waiting just to emphasize that I am not at his beck and call." Her violet eyes twinkled mischievously as a knock sounded upon her bedchamber door.

Honor shook a warning finger at her mistress, and hurried to answer the knock. A footman stood on the other side of the door. The two servants murmured, and then turning, Honor said, "His lordship is downstairs. I have said you will be down immediately. Do you want that nice little lace fichu for your shoulders? I know it's June, but there could be a chill in the park. Won't do to have you catching a sniffle now." Not even waiting for her mistress's answer she fetched the delicate shawl, and hurried downstairs after her young lady.

Honor curtsied to the duke, and put the lace fichu about Allegra's shoulders. He nodded slightly. Oh my, the maid thought. He is handsome, but he don't look easy. Miss Allegra is taking on more than she realizes, I think. She watched as the newly engaged pair made their way from the foyer and down the front steps where the duke helped Allegra into a handsome landau, then joined her. As the vehicle drew away Honor considered they would be the richest couple in all of England; their children would have the bluest blood; and they were certainly the handsomest pair of people she had ever seen.

Chapter 5

“Your gown is charming," the duke told Allegra as the landau pulled away from the house. "Why do you wear no bonnet?"

Allegra opened her parasol, and adjusted it. "Because I wish to be seen, and I assume you wish to be seen with me as well."

"Ahh," he said, immediately understanding, "you are ready to take your revenge." She was proud, and pride was something he well understood. He favored her with a faint smile.

"Do you not wish to take your revenge too, my lord? How many mamas of more modest heiresses shooed their daughters out of your path with no regard for your exemplary family, because of your bare purse?"

"I am not certain I am comfortable that you understand me so well, so quickly," the duke said to her candidly.

She blushed at his remark, but replied spiritedly, "If our marriage is to be a successful venture, my lord, I must certainly understand you, and you me."

"How old are you?" he asked her.

"You don't know? I am seventeen. I will be eighteen on the ninth of December. How old did you think I was?" It suddenly occurred to her that they really didn't know anything at all about each other. Nothing. Their match had been made for other reasons. She began to worry her lower lip with her teeth.

Quinton Hunter was equally astounded by the reality that he knew naught about this girl except that she was rich. And, of course, there was the gossip about her mother. "Seventeen is a fine age to become a wife," he said slowly. "I was thirty-one this April third past, Allegra. I suppose that seems very old for you."

"You are not as old as my father," she replied frankly. "I think a husband should be older than a wife."

He laughed aloud, and she saw a flash of white teeth. "I suppose I deserved that," he responded.

"You are even more handsome when you laugh," Allegra noted.

"So you think me handsome, do you?" He chuckled. "You are very beautiful, but then, of course, you know that. Beautiful and rich were all the congratulations I heard last night."

"The women were confined to: 'Aduke! A duke, my dear!'" She laughed. "Please tell me we do not have to live in London, my lord. I really do not enjoy this world that is so regulated and rigid. At least in the country we will be accepted as a plain married couple, and not some rule by which all other heiresses and poor, but noble gentlemen are to be judged by in future seasons."

"I thought you wished to take your revenge, Allegra. You must become a famous hostess giving outrageous balls, and other entertainments. You must run up enormous debts in the best gambling halls like the Duchess of Devonshire. You must set the fashion. You cannot do it by living an anonymous existence in the country."

"No, thank you," Allegra said. "I shall have my own back in the next few weeks on the silly chits who have snubbed me. If the kind of lady you describe is the kind of lady you want to wed, then I am not that lady, my lord. I am appalled at the amount of money my papa has expended in just this one season on Sirena and me. Our weddings will cost a fortune. Invested, that money would have yielded a handsome profit. Now it is all gone. As for gambling, I am as opposed to it as are you. Another waste of both time and good coin."

"How do you invest your monies?" he asked her, curious.

"In foreign trade mostly," Allegra told him. "I also own a little spinning mill in Yorkshire that makes thread, and interest in several wagon way routes. I have the controlling interest in one route that is entirely built with cast iron rails."

"It is amazing that a young girl as yourself should find interest in such matters," the duke remarked. "Most girls spend their time at less rigorous pursuits."

"Why?" Allegra demanded. "Women have intellects as well as men. If they are educated, they are capable of almost anything," she told him. "Education is the key to everything. I intend to see that our daughters, as well as our sons, are educated to the utmost."

"You say women are capable of almost anything," he replied.

"I don't think I should like to be a member of the local fire brigade," Allegra answered him with a chuckle.

The duke's borrowed landau had now turned into the park where they joined the throng of other carriages parading through the greensward this June afternoon. There were also a number of ladies and gentlemen riding upon beautiful horses. Allegra leaned back and feigned boredom. There was that appalling Lady Hackney and her buck-toothed daughter, Lavinia. She ignored their desperate attempts to catch her eye.

"Nicely done," the duke murmured. He reached for her little hand, and raising it to his lips, kissed it as another carriage carrying the Countess of Brotherton and her daughter passed by. The Brotherton girl's dowry had been generous, but not showy. Her mama had made a great point of seeing her darling daughter was allowed nowhere near the poverty-stricken Duke of Sedgwick. He had found himself greatly offended even though he knew better. The girl would have to come back next season as she had failed in the husband hunt this year. And her papa would have to increase her dowry, for she wasn't the prettiest of creatures.

"Sedgwick!" A voice familiar to them both pierced the air. "Stop at once! I want to join you!" Lady Bellingham's small carriage drew up next to theirs, and its occupant, with help, transferred herself from it to the duke's landau, giving her coachmen instructions to follow behind.

"Good afternoon, Aunt," Quinton Hunter said. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"Good afternoon, Lady Bellingham," Allegra said. Aunt?

"Your fiancé's mama and I were first cousins," Lady Bellingham explained. "Now, when is the wedding to be, my dears?"

"Madame, we have not yet had time to consider a date," Allegra said.

"Why not?" demanded Lady Bellingham.

"This is the first time we have been alone together, Aunt, since last night's festivities and announcement," the duke spoke up.

"Well, you had best proclaim a date within the week, or else the gossips will be saying that one of you has cried off. I shall not have the match of the decade ruined by idle gossip!" Lady Bellingham said.

"It will be sometime in the autumn," Allegra responded. "I plan to spend the summer at Hunter's Lair overseeing the renovations needed. Papa is sending an architect down next week."

"You are not being married before the season ends? You are not being married in London?" Lady Bellingham was shocked.

"There isn't enough time," Allegra explained.

"No," the older woman said thoughtfully. "I suppose there really isn't, for your wedding must be a glorious and most fashionable event, my dears. Still, Allegra, you cannot marry the Duke of Sedgwick in a country church. You must come back to London for your wedding. The king and the queen will expect to attend, as will Prinny. Please remember Quintan's bloodline, Allegra. You shall be wed on October fifth at St. George's in Hanover Square," she decided for them. "I shall speak to the rector myself this very day." Lady Bellingham smiled. "There, now it is all settled." She waved at her coachman, and said, "Sedgwick, tell your man to pull over. I am disembarking now into my own vehicle."

"October is a beautiful month," Allegra said slowly when Lady Bellingham had left them alone again. "Our little church at Morgan Court is especially lovely then." She sighed. "But your aunt is right, my lord. Your family is of great importance. We should be married in London."

He was touched by her care of him, and found himself saying, "If you truly wish to be married in your own country church, Allegra, then that is where we will wed."

"No, it shall be as Lady Bellingham has decreed, my lord. I will not have it said that Lord Morgan's daughter had no care for her husband's family reputation. We shall marry with pomp, and only the crème de la crème among the ten thousand shall be invited. Papa's secretary, Charles Trent, will decide along with my aunt. Those who are not included will prefer to be out of town that day." She chuckled. "It shall, however, be the last time we are seen in London for quite some while. We have a duty to perform. Our nursery must be filled as promptly as is possible."

"My dear," the duke said with a smile, "you astound me with your practical nature and sensible ways. As you know I do not believe in love, Allegra, but I do think I am going to like you very much."

"And as long as you allow me my own way, my lord, I shall like you in return," she replied pertly, a small smile touching her lips.

Quinton Hunter burst out laughing. He did not understand why such good fortune suddenly smiled upon him, but it certainly had. His bride-to-be was a delight despite her less than noble background. He had dreaded coming to London, certain he would not succeed; certain that if he did he would be saddled with some simpering and brainless girl who would be frightened of him and bore him to tears within six months. Allegra was a refreshing surprise. Oh, she was going to have to learn to not say aloud everything that she was thinking; and her habit of involving herself in business ventures would, of course, have to cease. But she had definite possibilities, and with the proper training would make an excellent Duchess of Sedgwick. Her hand on his sleeve brought him back to reality. His gaze followed her direction, and he bowed from the waist to Prinny and Mr. Brummell as they passed by.

"Thank you," he said to her.

"Just because we are not going to live in London doesn't mean we should give up our social contacts, my lord," Allegra told him. "My papa says you never know when you will need a favor, or can do one to your own advantage."

"Your papa is very wise," the duke answered her.

"Do you like him? Oh, I hope you will like each other," Allegra said, suddenly very much the young girl again. "I love Papa more than anyone else upon this earth, my lord."

"Your papa and I get on very well, and will continue to do so, I promise you, Allegra. Now, did we not agree earlier that you would address me by my Christian name?"

"Yes, Quinton, we did," she responded, "but you are so impressive a gentleman that I sometimes forget I now have that privilege. Ohh, look! Here comes that dreadful Lord Mountiner, and his daughter. Shall we snub them?" Her violet eyes were dancing wickedly, but then she amended, "Or am I being too awful and not a proper duchess?"

He laughed. "You are very fierce, my dear, but I am of a mind to indulge you in this particular piece of naughtiness as I dislike the family heartily. They own the London house that once belonged to my family and have left our coat of arms over the door rather than remove it, which they should have. It seems to please them to be able to brag they possess Sedgwick House."

The landau's horses trotted past the large and rather ornate coach belonging to Lord Mountiner as the duke and Allegra deliberately turned their heads away from the coach's occupants. The two vehicles passed so closely that Lord Mountiner's outrage could be heard even as his daughter said in her high-pitched and nasal voice, "Oh, Papa, they are snubbing us! How embarrassing! Take me home!"

"That was quite successful," Allegra said when they had left the other carriage in their wake. "Let that be a lesson to all who were unkind to both of us this season."

The rest of their promenade proved uneventful. The landau drove beneath the trees while they bowed and waved to their friends as they passed by. Some were in carriages. Others were riding fine horseflesh. All in all Allegra considered it a most successful outing when they returned to Berkley Square, and the landau drew up before her father's house. A footman hurried to help her out of the vehicle.

"Will you come in and have tea?" she asked the duke.

"Not today, my dear," he told her. "Will I see you tonight?"

"There is no event planned," she said. "I think I shall take the opportunity to go to bed early."

"Will you dream of me?" he teased her.

"I rarely, if ever, dream," Allegra responded, but then she added, "but if I did dream, Quinton, I am certain it would be of you."

He laughed. "Well done, my dear Allegra," he responded. Then he kissed her hand. "I shall call upon you tomorrow."

"Come for luncheon," she replied.

He bowed, and then the landau was gone off down the street and out of the square, the matched bays with the blond tails trotting quite smartly.

Entering the house she found Sirena and Ocky in the garden salon. "Lady Bellingham has set our wedding date for October fifth," she announced to them. "If you are with child by then, Sirena, you must not show it for I will have no one else but you attending me. Imagine the gossip if I postponed my wedding until you were able to attend me."

"Ohh, Allegra, you mustn't do such a thing," Sirena said, sounding genuinely distressed. "It would be too shocking to even consider."

Allegra laughed. "Then be certain you can accommodate me, cousin," she said with a wicked wink at Viscount Pickford.

"We are going to be neighbors," Sirena said happily. "Ocky's home,"-she blushed-"his papa's home, I mean, is in Hereford, near Hunter's Lair. It is called Rose Hall. Isn't that a lovely name, Rose Hall?"

"Have you decided where to go for your wedding trip?" Allegra inquired curiously.

"We are going to the sea," the viscount said. "I have cousins with a cottage in Devon. They will be in Kent then at their home, and so they have given us the cottage for as long as we want it. It comes fully staffed. Have you and Quinton discussed your trip, Miss Morgan?"

"We didn't even get around to discussing the wedding date." Allegra chuckled. "Lady Bellingham descended upon us like a storm, and decided it all for us. Perhaps tomorrow when Quinton comes to luncheon we will consider it." Then she patted the viscount upon the arm. "You are marrying my favorite cousin, Ocky. I do think it would be permissible for you to call me by my Christian name." Then with a smile at them, she departed the garden salon, hurrying upstairs.

Honor brought her mistress her supper upon a tray. Allegra wanted nothing more than to recover from the excitement of the last few days. Her father joined her after he and her aunt had dined with Sirena and Ocky.

"Are you all right, my child?" Lord Morgan asked his daughter.

"Just tired, Papa," she responded with a small yawn.

"Are you happy?" he said.

Allegra thought a moment, then answered, "I am not unhappy, Papa. The duke is a pleasant and most agreeable fellow. I am very anxious to see Hunter's Lair." She yawned again.

"It is not as large as Morgan Court, my dear, but its lineage is most impressive. And, of course, it has more lands than the court," her father answered. "I am going to leave my home to your second son, Allegra. I hope you will approve."

"I am not yet wed, Papa," she replied, "and you already have me producing two sons. What of my daughters?"

"The daughters of a duke with Quinton Hunter's bloodline, and the dowries you will be able to give them, will have no difficulties in finding mates. It is the sons who come after the first son who need to find a place in this world. Therefore your second son shall have Morgan Court when I die one day. If there are other boys, we shall manage to provide for them, I promise you, my child."

"What if you remarry, Papa? Would you dispossess your widow?"

"Allegra…," he began, and then stopped.

"You love my aunt, Papa." She took his hand in hers. "She has been widowed for several years now. There is nothing to prevent you from asking her to be your wife. Both Sirena and I fully approve, Papa," Allegra said quietly.

"Do you?" he replied, his look suddenly amused.

"We do, Papa," Allegra told him seriously, releasing the hand.

"And do you think your aunt would accept an offer of marriage from me? We have been good friends for many years. Perhaps that is all she is willing to give of herself. I should dislike to spoil the friendship I have with Olympia."

"You will never know, Papa, unless you ask her," Allegra told him wisely. "I am virtually gone from Morgan Court. Do you really think my aunt would prefer the little dower house at Rowley to being the undisputed mistress of Morgan Court? Sirena and I have often spoken on it. We want you happy together."

"But what if she says no to me, my child?" he worried.

"Is no such a terrible word, Papa?" Allegra replied.

"As I recall you seemed to think so when you were a little girl," her father teased her. He arose from her bedside where he had been sitting. "Get your rest now, Allegra. Sirena's wedding is but nine days away, and then we shall return home."

"You will ask Aunt Olympia before we leave London?" she queried him.

"I will think on it, Allegra," and bending, he gave her a kiss upon her forehead. Then he left the room.

His daughter's words had made a strong impression upon Septimius Morgan. While he was delighted with his daughter's engagement, and her bright future, the thought of spending the rest of his life alone had been a bleak one. Was Allegra right? Would Olympia accept an offer of marriage from him? Entering his library he found the object of his thoughts sitting by the fire. She looked up and smiled.

"I hope you do not mind my being here, Septimius. Sirena and her beloved are billing and cooing in the salon. I very much felt like a fifth wheel, I fear."

"Shall I pour you a sherry?" he asked her, and when she nodded he filled two glasses upon the tray and brought her one. Then he sat in the tapestried backed chair opposite her. "We shall both soon be alone, Olympia," he remarked tentatively. "Morgan Court is such a large place for just one man, and the dower house at Rowley is much too small."

"Yes, it is," she replied.

"I should not like to spoil our friendship, Olympia, but perhaps we might take a suggestion that Allegra assures me both she and Sirena approve. Perhaps we should marry."

"To whom?" Lady Abbott asked him, but her heart was fluttering.

"To each other, my dearest Olympia," he said, laughing. Then he slipped from his chair, and knelt beside her. "Will you marry me, Olympia? Will you make me the happiest of men so we may spend our twilight years together? I realize that becoming Lady Morgan is a bit of a step-down from Dowager Marchioness of Rowley, but I hope you will consider it." He looked hopefully up at her.

Her hand had gone to her mouth to stifle her cry at his proposal. Her plump and pretty features were rosy with both her surprise, and her pleasure. Finally, her hand dropped away, and she said, "I could only marry a man who loved me, Septimius."

He stood, and taking her hands in his drew her up so they were facing each other. "But I do love you, Olympia. I believe I always have, though I dared not voice such sentiments while you were yet married to another. You are everything that your sister was not. Kind and wise and gentle. If you do not want to remarry, I will understand. I only beg you not to allow it to spoil our friendship."

Olympia Abbott stood on her toes, and kissed Lord Morgan's lips softly. "Of course I will marry you, Septimius," she said. "I never had any intention of allowing some other woman to snap you up now that Allegra is going to be leaving you."

"We will wed before Allegra's marriage," he said firmly.

"When?" she asked him, rather delighted at his eagerness.

"The day after Sirena and young Pickford are wed," he said with a chuckle. "That way both our girls will be able to attend us. Then Sirena and Ocky will depart on their wedding trip. You will come home with Allegra and me. We'll go to Rowley to get your possessions after Allegra is settled at Hunter's Lair. Then, you and I shall have the entire summer to ourselves. Next winter I shall take you to Italy." He gave her a hearty kiss. "Italy is very romantic, Olympia."

Lady Abbott actually blushed. "Ohh, Septimius," she said softly. "I should very much like to see Italy."

"We'll spend the winter in a villa outside of Naples," he promised her, "and then in the spring we shall go to Rome and to Venice."

"I have never been outside of England," she told him, and then her face darkened. "But, Septimius, what if we should meet my sister and her husband? Perhaps we should not go to Italy."

"Mayhap, my dear, we should seek out Pandora and her count," Lord Morgan said.

"Ohh, no!" she cried. "Pandora behaved dreadfully running away and leaving you to deal with the scandal; but I know my sister. It doesn't matter how many years have passed, or that she is happily remarried. She would be furious to learn you took another wife, and that your second wife was her sister!"

"She will know eventually," he said. "Besides, I do not care what Pandora thinks if you do not care, my dearest. I want you to have a wedding trip. France is certainly no place for decent people to go today."

"Well," Lady Abbott considered, "I should like to see Italy."

"Then it is settled," he responded, and gave her another kiss.

They were unable to keep their secret from their daughters, however. One look at Lady Abbott the next morning set the two young women shrieking with glee. They danced about the older woman until she finally ordered them to behave.

"He has asked you, hasn't her¹" Allegra said. "Ohh, I am so glad! Sirena and I have wanted it forever!"

"Now we are truly sisters!" Sirena said laughing, and hugging her mother.

"When is the wedding?" Allegra demanded.

"I want to be there," Sirena remarked.

"It must remain a secret from everyone else," Lady Abbott pleaded. "I want you to have your day, Sirena."

"Ohh, Mama, I shall have it no matter," the young girl said. "Now, when is the wedding? Oh, do tell us, Mama!"

"We shall wed quietly the day after your wedding, Sirena," her mother responded. "And 1 mean it. No one else is to know until the day you and Ocky marry. Especially your brother and his wife. Charlotte will, of course, be delighted to be rid of both of us, but I don't want her going about London gossiping. Do you both understand me, girls? This is a secret."

"Yes, Mama. But may I tell Ocky?" Sirena asked.

"Yes, Aunt," Allegra said.

"You may tell your husbands-to-be," Lady Abbott said, "but you must caution them to silence."

"We will!" the two girls chorused.

Sirena's wedding day drew near. She and Viscount Pickford were to marry at St. George's in Hanover Square, the most fashionable church in London. It would not be a large wedding for Sirena did not want a large wedding. Mostly it would be family and several family servants. They would be married at ten o'clock in the morning, for fashionable marriages were celebrated between the hours of eight o'clock in the morning and twelve noon. A wedding breakfast with a bride's cake would be served at Lord Morgan's home after the ceremony. Then Sirena and Ocky would spend the night at Pickford House, several squares over from Berkley Square; the viscount's seasonal guests having removed themselves from the residence earlier.

The Earl of Pickford arrived in London several days before the wedding to meet his prospective daughter-in-law. He was a slender gentleman with a headful of snow-white hair, and bright blue eyes that his eldest son had inherited. He was immediately taken by the sweet and gentle Lady Sirena Abbott. He had known her breeding, of course, for his son had asked his permission of his father before tendering a proposal. But far too often these overbred girls made bad wives. This girl, he quickly saw, loved his son. Not only that, she had character and manners. He was now twice as pleased as he had been earlier.

"After your wedding trip, you'll come home to Pickford?" the earl asked Ocky. "Sirena will want to see what you will inherit one day. She must grow familiar with her new home. You will be a most welcome addition to the family, my dear," he told her.

"Oh, thank you, my lord," Sirena answered him. Then she shyly kissed his cheek.

The season was winding down. Most of the young women who had not found husbands, or who were planning summer weddings, had left London with their families. Sirena's wedding day was upon them. Allegra's childhood friend, Rupert Tanner, had withdrawn several days earlier to return home. The duke had been invited to stay at Lord Morgan's house until he departed London in a few days' time.

They awoke to a perfect June morning. The sky was a vivid blue with not a cloud in it. The sun shone brightly. In Lord Morgan's garden the Damascus roses bloomed in profusion, and perfumed the air. The servants hurried upstairs with trays for the bedchambers, for the dining room was being prepared for the wedding breakfast after the ten o'clock ceremony.

Sirena could scarce contain her excitement. She was a very beautiful bride in an elegantly simple gown of ivory striped silk with a scooped neckline and little puffed sleeves. The gown was tied beneath the waist with a silver ribbon, and there were tiny silver bows on each sleeve as well as at the tips of her shoes. A delicate lace shawl was draped about her shoulders. Her golden blond hair was affixed into a chignon at the nape of her neck, two ringlets falling to her right. Upon her head was another swath of lace that fell to the floor and was affixed with a small wreath of white roses.

"You are the perfect bride," Allegra told her cousin. "I have never seen you look so gorgeous, Sirena."

Lady Abbott began to sniffle softly. "She is right. I cannot believe that my baby is getting married. If only your papa were here to see it, my darling. He would be so proud at how well you have done." Then she turned to her niece. "You are lovely, too, Allegra."

"Thank you, Aunt. Now tell us before we go down to meet the others. When are you going to reveal your little secret?" Allegra said.

"Your papa and I shall make our announcement as the wedding breakfast comes to a close," Lady Abbott answered.

"From that moment on I shall refer to you as Aunt Mama," Allegra said with a smile.

"You are truly content that I will marry your papa, my dear?" Lady Abbott said. She could still not believe her good fortune.

"Aunt, you have been the mother I never remember having," Allegra said generously. "I welcome you with all my heart!" Then she kissed Lady Abbott on both cheeks, giving her a warm hug as she did so.

There was a knock upon the door, and Lord Morgan popped his head in saying, "My dears, it is time we left for the church. You surely do not want to frighten your bridegroom, Sirena, by being late."

St. George's on Hanover Square wasn't a great distance from Lord Morgan's house on Berkley Square. They rode in an open carriage, meeting Sirena's elder brother at the church. The Marquis of Rowley would give his sister away. His wife was already seated in the first pew as Lord Morgan escorted Lady Abbott into the building. The older woman glared at the younger until she gave way, moving down the pew to allow the bride's mother and Lord Morgan to be seated.

On the other side of the aisle were the groom's father, the widowed Earl of Pickford, with his sister, Lady Carstairs, and her husband. Behind them sat the two younger Carstairs, Ocky's first cousins, the Earl of Aston, Lord Walworth, with their own betrothed wives. In the third pew on the groom's side sat his longtime valet, Wiggins. In the second pew on the bride's side sat Lord and Lady Bellingham with Charles Trent, and behind them the two serving women, Damaris and Honor.

St. George's was the most fashionable church in the city in which to be wed. It was not one of London's ancient churches, having been built between the years 1721 and 1724. Its beautiful and graceful portico with its six soaring pillars was the first ever built for a London church. There were elegant cast iron dogs flanking the main door. The east window of the church contained sixteenth-century stained glass rescued from a church destroyed during the Civil War in England, almost one hundred and fifty years earlier. The altar painting had been fashioned by Sir James Thornhill, and was entitled The Last Supper.

To the soft strains of a Bach melody Allegra walked up the church's main aisle, a nosegay of white roses and purple stock in her gloved hands. Behind her she could hear Sirena and her brother coming along. At the altar Viscount Pickford stood with the Duke of Sedgwick, who was to be his witness. The rector of the church smiled perfunctorily as the young couple came before him. He had already performed fourteen weddings this month and had another twenty-five to celebrate before June was out. It was his busiest time in a successful season.

"Dearly beloved," he began.

Allegra looked about her discreetly. It was a beautiful church, but she regretted that she could not be wed in her own church come October. She listened intently to the service. With my body I thee worship. A delicate blush suffused her features as she remembered Quinton's kisses the night of her ball. They had not kissed since. How did a man worship you with his body, she wondered? Then she was drawn back from her thoughts as Sirena pushed her own bouquet of white roses, green ivy, and silver ribbons at Allegra to hold while she knelt at the altar rail.

Allegra put her own thoughts aside, and concentrated on the wedding ceremony. When the church's rector pronounced her cousin and Viscount Pickford man and wife she blushed again as the bride and groom kissed most enthusiastically before their guests. Her eyes met those of Quinton Hunter. His demeanor was serious, and to her relief not teasing. Would he kiss her as warmly once they were wed?

Sirena and Ocky hurried from the church. They were both laughing happily, and had eyes only for each other. The duke tucked Allegra's hand into his arm, and escorted her down the steps. The bride and groom were already driving off. The twenty guests followed behind them back to Lord Morgan's house in their own coaches and carriages where the wedding breakfast was awaiting them.

Lord Morgan's French chef had prepared a delicious meal which the servants passed around the dining table. There were eggs, poached in heavy cream, and fine Madeira sherry. There were pink country ham, rashers of bacon, a platter of lamb chops, and one of poached salmon in a dill sauce with carved lemons decorating its silver server. There were freshly baked breads, and little rolls with sesamed tops. There were several cheeses: a wheel of Brie from France, another wheel of sharp English Cheddar, and a nutty flavored cheese imported from Switzerland, which Allegra particularly favored, that had holes in it. There was a bowl filled with fresh fruit: sectioned oranges from Spain, slices of pineapple and yellow banana. There was a crystal bowl of fresh strawberries, and next to it a dish of heavy, clotted cream. A delicate wine was served throughout the meal until the bride's cake with its spun sugar icing and decorations was brought forth. Then the champagne was brought out, and several toasts were drunk to Sirena and Ocky.

The bride shortly afterward slipped from the dining room, followed by her cousin. Upstairs her maid, Damaris, was waiting to help her from her wedding clothes, and into her traveling outfit, although Sirena was traveling no farther than her father-in-law's town house today.

"Mama and Uncle have not yet announced their surprise," Sirena said to her cousin. "You don't think they have changed their minds?"

Allegra shook her head. "Papa said they would make the announcement before you leave."

"I can't wait to see the look on Charlotte's face," Sirena replied with a giggle. "She will be torn between relief and horror that Mama should remarry at her time of life, which is how she will put it, I am quite certain."

"How old is Aunt Mama?" Allegra asked her cousin.

"She is surely past forty," Sirena said. "She married Papa at fifteen, and had my brother when she was sixteen. Gussie is twenty-five, I know, so Mama must be past forty."

"She is forty-one," Allegra said with a smile. Sirena had never been particularly good with her sums.

"There, my ladies, you're ready," Damaris said to her mistress. Then she began to weep. "I can't believe yer a married woman," she sniffled, wiping her eyes with her apron. "It just seems like yesterday you come out of the nursery a young lass put in my care."

"Now, Damaris." Sirena hugged her maid. "You'll still be with me, and I've seen the looks you and Ocky's valet have been giving each other. You'll soon be a married lady yourself, and what shall I ever do if you leave me?"

"No man could take me away from you, my lady!" Damaris declared stoutly. "Now, you and Miss Allegra run back downstairs to yer guests. I'll be waiting for you at Pickford House." She curtsied.

Sirena, looking enchanting in a white muslin gown decorated with pink silk ribbons and a charming straw bonnet, also with pink ribbons, set over her blond curls, gave her maid a smile. Then hand in hand with Allegra she descended the stairs of the house into its circular central foyer where her husband and her guests were assembled waiting for her. She went immediately to her mother and her uncle.

Hugging them Sirena whispered, "Tell them now, please."

Putting his arm about both Allegra and Sirena, Lord Morgan said in a loud voice, "This has been a most wonderful day for us all. I have seen my dearest niece successfully married off. My beloved daughter will marry her duke on October fifth. Tomorrow, however, shall be an equally happy day, for tomorrow I will marry the woman who has done me the honor of agreeing to become my wife, Lady Olympia Abbott. As you have all wished Sirena and Ocky happy, I hope you will wish us the same as well," Lord Morgan concluded.

"Well, I'll be damned," the Marquess of Rowley said, totally and utterly surprised by his uncle's declaration. Then he reached out, and shook Lord Morgan's hand. "You have my blessing, sir, although you certainly don't need it." Grinning, he kissed his mother heartily. "And you, madame, have my best wishes. Just when I thought you could no longer surprise me, Mama, you have gone and done it."

"Then you do not mind, Gussie?" she said, a trifle nervously.

"No, Mama, I do not mind in the least," he responded, smiling even more broadly.

The other guests crowded about the couple offering their congratulations and good wishes. It was at that very moment in the crush that Sirena and Viscount Pickford chose to make their escape. Hand in hand, they left through the open door of the house, down the marble steps, and into their carriage. When their absence was finally realized, there was much good-natured laughter, and the guests were invited into the main salon of the house to partake of another champagne toast, this one to the next soon-to-be-married pair.

"And another family wedding tomorrow!" Lady Bellingham exclaimed. "My dear Olympia, what a naughty puss you have been keeping such a wonderful secret." She tapped Lady Abbott with her fan, giving her an arch look. "Of course it is the perfect match for you. I imagine your son and daughter-in-law are delighted for you." She turned her gaze to Allegra. "And you, miss, what think you of this turn of events?"

"Sirena and I have been trying to get Papa and Aunt Mama together ever since she came out of mourning," Allegra announced candidly.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Have you indeed, my gel? Well, good for you!" Lady Bellingham said. "Not a selfish bone in her body, Quinton. You have chosen a fine gel to wife. I shall certainly look forward to returning to London in the autumn for your wedding. Even Bellingham has agreed to give up a few days of his hunting for such an event, haven't you, husband?"

"Indeed, yes, m'dcar," Lord Bellingham agreed with a broad wink at the assembled company. "If it pleases you, it pleases me." He took a long sip of his champagne.

"Well I for one am completely astounded that dear Mama would marry again at her time of life," Charlotte said. "Gussie and I have suddenly become quite bereft of family, I fear." She sipped her champagne.

Allegra giggled behind her hand, but when Charlotte glared at her she said bluntly, "Sirena said you would say that, madame. As for being bereft, I suspect you are more relieved to have Aunt Mama and my cousin gone from Rowley. You will have Gussie all to yourself now." She smiled sweetly at the Marchioness of Rowley.

"Allegra," her cousin the marquess said chidingly but his mouth twitched with amusement. "You must behave yourself, and practice more tact now that you are to become a duchess."

"Oh, Gussie, I fear I shall never become that proper, and poor Quinton knows it. Do you not, my lord?" She looked to him.

"It will take time, I see, but I believe that eventually I can persuade Allegra to the advantages of diplomacy, sir," he said to the Marquess of Rowley.

"That will be a battle worth observing," Lady Bellingham murmured softly, and her husband chuckled at her words.

The remainder of the guests made their farewells. It had been a most satisfying and exciting morning to have been party to, and privy to, they all agreed. The Earl of Aston and Lord Walworth had both asked the duke to stand up with them during their upcoming nuptials. Now both of their fiancees made certain to speak with Allegra before they left.

"You will come to the wedding with the duke?" both young ladies asked. "Mama will see you receive an invitation."

"I shall be pleased to accept," Allegra responded as she waved them both off. How odd to have friends who were girls, she thought. The only girl who had ever been her friend was Sirena. What was more, she liked Lady Eunice Tarleton and Caroline Bellingham. I really am growing up, she considered to herself.

"We will take the air in the garden," the duke said. They were now alone. Her father and Lady Abbott had disappeared.

Allegra slipped her hand through his arm. "The poor old house feels quite sad," she sagely noted. "Everything is coming to an end. The season is over. Sirena and Ocky are married. Our friends are all gone from London. Nothing will ever be the same again, will it?"

"No," he agreed, "but that is life, Allegra. The world changes about us constantly for good, or for ill."

They moved out into the garden. The afternoon was warm for June. The roses perfumed the air, and there was barely the hint of a breeze.

"Perhaps the world does change with each passing minute," Allegra said, "but I have never before felt it as strongly as I do today." She sighed a long, and wistful sigh. "My life has, despite my mother's absence, charted a steady course, and has not deviated. I was raised and educated at Morgan Court. My best, my only friend until a few months ago, was my cousin, Sirena. The years have been a round of passing seasons marked by holidays, family, and schooling. It has always been the same."

"What of your brother?" he asked her. She had never really spoken of her elder sibling.

A look of sorrow passed over Allegra's beautiful face. "Ahh, yes," she said. "My world did change then, didn't it? I had put it from my mind for it is too painful to speak on, Quinton."

"What happened?" he gently probed as he drew her down in the shade of an apple tree to a marble bench. "I only know that he is dead."

"James Lucian-we never for some reason called him anything other than his whole name-died in France. He was affianced to the daughter of the Comte d'Aumont. Because of the political situation it was decided he would marry immediately and bring his bride back to England," Allegra explained. "While he was there the family was arrested, betrayed by someone before James Lucian could wed his sweetheart. He would not leave Celestine. The authorities, if you can call that rabble in France by such a name, offered my brother his freedom as he stood upon the scaffold with her. She begged him to go, but he would not. James Lucian, it was said, knelt before his affianced, speaking gently to her of their eternal life together even as the guillotine fell. Her head rolled into the basket before him; and he was spattered with her blood. He then arose, and without assistance, knelt for his own execution." Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Shocked by her recitation the duke said, "He was a very brave man, your brother." His arm went about her to comfort her.

Allegra shook off the arm. "My brother was a fool!" she cried, and now the tears ran down her face. "He wasted his life for what? For love! You say, my lord, that you shall never love me, for you would not commit the mistakes of your antecedents. Well, I shall not love you either, for love brings nothing to anyone but pain. But we shall have a good marriage for it shall be based upon sensible principles. Respect for one another and enough wealth to sustain us. And whatever love either of us can muster we shall lavish upon our children. The love of a parent for its child seems to be the only love that does not hurt."

He wiped her tears away with his own linen handkerchief, but said nothing more. What could he possibly say that would comfort her? It was obvious that she had loved her brother greatly, and his death, three years before, had hurt her terribly. Finally he spoke. "Is the loss of your brother the reason you learned how to manage your own funds?"

"Oh, no," Allegra told him. "I have been interested in Papa's businesses ever since I was a little girl. James Lucian and I used to compete to see who could manage the most successful ventures. We were fairly evenly matched, although I think I probably had the cooler head. My brother always allowed his emotions to carry him away. To his own detriment in the end," she finished.

"When will you come to Hunter's Lair?" he asked, changing the subject lest she begin to cry again.

"When Papa's architect and his builder say my apartments are habitable. From all reports so far, however, I think I will be with you in just a few weeks. Do your friends live far?"

"No," he told her. "Aston's estate is just an hour away, and Dree's home, a charming little holding, less than an hour. It will please me to escort you to both weddings."

"There will be a certain amount of gossip, I fear, when I come to live at Hunter's Lair before our wedding. Will you mind?"

He laughed. "No. Will you?"

"No," she replied, and her violet eyes looked directly at him.

"We are well matched," he replied with a small smile.

"So it would appear," Allegra agreed, and then she boldly leaned over and kissed his cheek. "So it would appear, Quinton."

Chapter 6

The morning after Sirena's wedding dawned as beautiful as had the day before. Lord Morgan's wedding to Lady Abbott would take place in the main salon of his house at nine o'clock in the morning. Then, after a small repast, the family would depart for home although they had originally planned to remain for another day. The duke would come with them most of the way before turning off the main road for Hunter's Lair. Allegra was glad her father had made the decision to leave London immediately. She was anxious to get home, although it would be lonely now without Sirena to keep her company.

There was something different about Sirena this morning. She and Ocky had arrived at quarter to the hour. Her cousin had been radiant with open happiness. She and her new husband kept touching one another with both their looks and their hands. She had little time for anyone other than Ocky. Allegra found it rather disturbing, and not just a little embarrassing. She was also hurt that Sirena had so few words for her.

The minister arrived at five to the hour. Augustus Abbott escorted his mama into the salon. She was wearing a sky blue brocaded gown. Her dark blond hair was piled upon her head and a single curl fell over her left shoulder. There was a tiny pouf of lace netting atop her head. She carried a nosegay of pink roses tied with blue and silver ribbons. Her look was one of complete happiness as she was led up to join Lord Morgan, who was quite elegant in a dark blue coat and breeches. The ceremony began.

Allegra looked about her. The guests were few: Lord and Lady Bellingham, who would sign the marriage register as witnesses, Sirena and Ocky, Lady Charlotte and Gussie, and the duke. Again she thought her cousin looked so very happy. Aunt Mama looked happy, too, as did their gentlemen. They loved one another. Even Charlotte Abbott had a soft smile upon her face, her gloved hand tucked into her husband's, as she watched her mother-in-law taking a second husband. Allegra would have sworn that Lady Bellingham had a tear in her eye, for she kept dabbing at it with her lawn handkerchief. What was the matter with them? Surely they weren't all in love? Love was such a nebulous emotion, and not at all reliable. Certainly Papa of all people knew that.

The ceremony concluded. To Allegra's surprise her father took his new wife into his arms, kissing her soundly. The new Lady Morgan blushed most becomingly as her guests clapped their approval. Allegra quickly stepped up to the newlyweds, and kissed her stepmother first and then her father.

"You know I wish you both happy," she said sincerely.

"Ohh, my dear," Olympia Morgan said, "I have always thought of you as my own child, and now you are!" She kissed Allegra back.

They repaired to the dining room where the chef had set out a lovely wedding breakfast. This morning he offered them pieces of chicken in a wine and cream sauce that he wrapped in very thin rounds of cooked dough he called crepes. There were shirred eggs, a country ham, rashers of bacon, a platter with thin slices of trout sprinkled lavishly with fresh dill and slices of lemon. There were new baby lettuces, raw, which Allegra found most tasty, as well as breads warm from the ovens. When all of this had been cleared away, strawberries with clotted cream brought up from Devon were served along with a small wedding cake iced in sugar and butter and filled with dried fruits. Only champagne was served during the entire breakfast.

After the meal with its toasts to Lord and Lady Morgan, the guests departed-Sirena and Ocky upon their wedding trip, Lord and Lady Bellingham to their country house in Oxford. The Marquess and Marchioness of Rowley left for their estate. Now it was their turn. Allegra chose not to ride in the coach with her father and stepmother.

"They are so embarrassing, very like Sirena and Ocky," she murmured to the duke. "I feel very much the third wheel."

"You are," he told her. "Your father and his wife are in love, as are Sirena and Ocky."

"Love!" Allegra scoffed. "I cannot believe such a thing of Papa. Surely my mama cured him of that foolish emotion."

"I think not," Quinton Hunter said.

"Then it is fortunate I am coming to Hunter's Lair shortly," Allegra said. "I do not believe I could bear a summer of their billing and cooing. Neither of them is in the first flush of youth, sir."

He laughed. "Love, I have been told, makes no exceptions for age or infirmity, my dear," the duke answered her. "Your father and his new wife have the best of love, for they were friends first. And then, too, your stepmother is a woman of character. She would never have even considered the path your mama took. Nor would you" he concluded.

"How can you be certain?" she asked him. She had worried silently to herself that something like that might happen to her one day.

"Because, Allegra, you are also a woman of character," the duke told her. "I should not take you for my wife, fortune or no, did I believe otherwise. My family has never in its history had any scandal attached to their name. Nor would I bring shame upon them. Your wealth was the primary factor in my decision to make you my wife; but your reputation was equally important to me. Despite your friendship with young Tanner, I know you to be a virgin of good repute."

They had just left the city behind. Her gelding shied as a cart passed too close, but Allegra held him firm even as she felt her cheeks grow warm. He had made her feel almost like an item to be inspected and bought, which was after all what the duke had done. A tiny curl of resentment brushed at her, but she pushed it away. She had made the perfect alliance, and had departed London in triumph. Hers was the match of the season. The match of the decade, or so Lady Bellingham had crowed to her.

"You are uncomfortable with my blunt speech," he said, noting her expression.

"A bit," she admitted. "Frankness does not disturb me, Quinton, but I have never before found myself the subject of such talk."

He was amused, but held his peace. She was candid, but at the same time she was quite prudish. He had thought he wouldn't care, but now he realized a girl as young and as innocent as Allegra was going to find the conjugal act quite a surprise, possibly even repellent if she were not properly prepared. While their children might not come from a grand passion, he did want Allegra to at least enjoy the sweet lust between a man and his wife. Neither of them could be so detached or indifferent to it if their marriage was to be a success. But how could he explain such things to her? He suddenly saw the wisdom in waiting several months before they married, and his future father-in-law's cunning in sending Allegra to Hunter's Lair to oversee its renovations. Lord Morgan obviously hoped that as they came to know each other a loving sentiment might grow between them, thus rendering their marital relations happy ones. It was the best any good father could hope for, the duke realized.

They stopped at midday beside a stream that paralleled the road. A picnic lunch packed by the London staff was now spread upon the grass by the servants, who traveled in their own coach. There was a roasted chicken, ham, bread, cheese, wine, and a large bunch of fat green grapes. They ate, and then the ladies sought privacy to relieve themselves while the gentlemen went in another direction. When they met again by the traveling coach the new Lady Morgan invited Allegra to join them, but the young girl declined.

"Thank you, Aunt Mama, but I dislike coach travel, and avoid it when I can. The day is fair and Quinton most delightful company."

They moved on again.

"You have not told me before that I am delightful company," the duke teased Allegra. "It came as quite a surprise to hear you say it."

"I will not ride in that vehicle with them," Allegra said. "Do you see the looks they gave one another all during our picnic? It was so embarrassing, and is worse now than it was this morning at the house."

He laughed. "Why does it disturb you that your father and your stepmother love each other?"

"It does not disturb me," Allegra denied.

"It does," he countered. "And you know why, my dear. You suddenly see your papa as a man with desires and feelings that have nothing to do with you. He is in love again, and is eager to bed his wife."

She blushed scarlet. "How can you say such a thing?" she demanded of him. "They are so old! Why, Sirena told me her mother is forty-one, and I know my papa is well past fifty."

He laughed again. "Both are past the age of indiscretion, my dear, and ready for some fun. There is no crime in it."

"You speak quite knowledgeably," she accused.

"And you prate from your innocence, Allegra," he told her. "Those marital relations between your father and his wife, between any lawfully wed couple, should be pleasant, enjoyable ones even if the marriage has been arranged for other reasons. Passion can be shared, and pleasurable between friends."

"You are no longer speaking about Papa and Aunt Mama, are you, Quinton?" Allegra said softly.

"No, I am not," he admitted. "In a few months' time you and I will share those relations, Allegra. I want such passion between us to be happy for you. I do not want you resenting the children that you will bear me. Can you understand that?"

"You have not kissed me since the night of my ball," she replied. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, and wondered if she looked like a boiled beef at this point.

"Did you like being kissed?" he asked.

"You didn't do it enough for me to form an opinion," she said.

"I thought you quite opinionated on the subject the night of your ball," he reminded her. "As I recall you wanted to know if I was considered expert in such matters, and asked for references."

"I most certainly did not ask for testimonials on the subject," she huffed. "I just asked if you were considered good at kissing. It was a perfectly reasonable question considering I had never before been kissed. I don't understand why you are so put out about it."

"You mean not even the saintly Rupert Tanner kissed you, Allegra? I find that hard to believe," he said.

"Why would Rupert want to kiss me? We are friends, and why do you call him saintly?” she countered.

"Because I understand he is taking holy orders, and will have a living from his father's village church when the old vicar there retires," came the reply.

"How do you know that?" she demanded.

"Because he told me. Remember he was at Pickford House with us during the season. He implied that you had an informal understanding," the duke said, and there was just the hint of anger in his voice.

"What?" The surprise in Allegra's voice was palpable. "How dare Rupert say such a thing! It most certainly is not true."

"Then he obviously said it in an attempt to drive me off," the duke observed, his good humor restored. "And he must be a saint to have never kissed you, my dear."

Allegra kicked her horse into a canter and rode away from him. She was furious. Yes, she said she wanted to marry Rupert before she had come to London, but only in order to escape a season. Her father had put a firm stop to any such idea. There had been nothing between them at all but a shared childhood. "I shall never speak to Rupert again," she muttered to herself. "How dare he?" He dare, she realized, because they were old friends, and he thought she needed to be saved. How presumptuous of him, especially, as they had grown up together. If anyone should know her it should be Rupert.

The duke let Allegra go. It was obvious she needed to work off her temper. She had a temper. That was a discovery. She was a more interesting girl than he had anticipated.

They stopped that night at an excellent inn. Charles Trent had taken an entire wing of the hostelry for his master's party. He was a day ahead of them. They ate their dinner in a private dining room, although Allegra and the duke seemed to be the only ones with an appetite. And when the meal had been cleared away, her father and stepmother were suddenly filled with yawns and deep sighs.

"How can you be so sleepy after riding in a coach all day?" Allegra demanded of them. "Papa, do you not want to play a game of chess? Now that we are to get back to our regular schedule you cannot forget our nightly chess games!" She smiled at him. "Shall I have the board and pieces brought, Papa?"

"I believe, my child, that the excitement of the season has finally caught up with me, and all this good country air is making me sleepy. I think that your stepmother and I shall retire. We will play chess another night, I promise you." He arose, and held out his hand to his bride.

"Come and kiss me goodnight, Allegra," Lady Morgan said. "Did you enjoy your ride today, dearest?"

"Very much," the young girl replied. She dutifully kissed her father and her stepmother. "Good night."

When they had gone she said to the duke, "They want to make love, don't they?"

"Yes," he said, his silvery gray eyes serious.

"I cannot believe anyone that age is still interested in such things, Quinton," Allegra told him.

"Why not? I am sure he had a mistress tucked discreetly away somewhere near Morgan Court."

Allegra was silent, and then she said, "Do you have a mistress tucked away somewhere, Quinton?"

He chuckled. "My dear, do I hear a tiny bit of jealousy in your tone? No, I could not afford a mistress, but so there is no misunderstanding between us, I have also not been celibate either."

"You have visited whores?" She wasn't really shocked, just curious about that part of his life.

"I have not been able to afford whores either." He chuckled again. He brushed an errant lock of dark hair from his forehead. "Allegra, there are always women willing to give themselves for the pure joy of it. I am no satyr, but when I felt the need for passion, there was always someone to satisfy my urges. Does that answer your questions?"

"No," she said, and she arose from the table to come and stand before him. "I have one last question to ask of you, Quinton."

"And that is, my dear?" She was so serious, and so amusing.

"When are you going to kiss me again?" Allegra queried him.

"Why right now, my dear," he answered her, pulling her into his lap. Taking her chin between his thumb and his forefinger his lips met hers in a rather fierce kiss.

She gasped, surprised. His finger caressed her jawline for a brief moment, and then he kissed her again; this time slowly, slowly until she felt as if her bones were melting away. His eyes looked into hers. Allegra felt a wave of heat wash over her and her heart hammered wildly

"Do you think I kiss well enough for you, my dear?" he asked her wickedly. Actually he had quite enjoyed it himself.

"Quite well enough," she admitted to him. "I will swear that my toes curled, sir."

"You are flattering me, Allegra, and I will quite confess to liking it," he told her. He also liked having her in his lap. She was a delightful armful.

"Kiss me again," she said softly to him, and he complied.

Her pink lips were like two rose petals, soft and yielding. Her breath was just slightly perfumed. He felt her relax against him. He found the softness of her breasts stimulating, and realized with some shock that his innocent wife-to-be was arousing him. Yet he could not stop kissing her, and Allegra in her budding zeal kissed him back with equal enthusiasm. He felt his manhood hardening within his breeches. Quickly he tipped her from his lap lest she sense it. Now was hardly the time for such an introduction.

She looked startled to find herself on her feet. Her sloe eyes and bruised mouth sent the blood pounding in his ears. "Why did you stop?" she demanded of him.

"Kissing," he said, wondering if his voice sounded as hollow to her as it did to him, "leads to other acts of greater intimacy, Allegra. I do not believe, and I must be the judge in such matters, that you are at all ready to meet and taste such delights. Perhaps it is best you retire now, my dear. We have several long days ahead of us." Taking her gently by the shoulders he kissed her upon her forehead. "Good night."

He could see she was slightly bemused as she walked from the little chamber where they had had their meal. He was somewhat confused himself. Going to the sideboard he poured himself a dollop of whiskey, and went to sit down by the fire. What the hell was the matter with him? He had felt lust for Allegra, yes, but there had been something more. They were to marry. He could have seduced her, and what harm would there have been in it? She belonged to him now. Only a few churchly words stood between the legalities of their licit union and the facts. She was innocent, but her girlish kisses told him there was passion in her soul. Treated with tenderness, brought slowly along, she would in time, he suspected, prove to be enjoyable bedsport.

That was it, of course, he decided. He sensed the fire in her that Allegra didn't even know she possessed. Instinctively he realized he had to move carefully with her lest he frighten her off. He wanted to make her bloom with passion, not turn away in fear.

Allegra rode with him each day of their journey. Each night she curled herself in his lap, and, as she quaintly put it, practiced her kissing. "Am I getting better?" she asked him one evening.

"With each passing day," he assured her.

She nodded. "Kissing is very pleasant, but rather repetitive, isn't it?" she said to him.

"There are variations," he told her.

"Show me," she whispered against his mouth.

His tongue slipped between her parted lips, and fervently caressed her. Allegra almost swooned in his arms.

"Ohhh," she gasped. Her heart was hammering erratically, and a frisson of pleasure raced down her backbone. "Oh my, Quinton, that was quite exciting! Are there other forms of kissing? I must know!"

"Yes," he said, "but they are much too advanced for you to be taught now. They involve caressing."

"Caressing what?" she asked him innocently.

"You," he answered with a small smile.

"Me? What do you mean?" Allegra queried him.

"Your breasts, and other more intimate parts," he told her.

"Do you want to caress me, Quinton?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh, yes, my dear, I do, but I do not think the time is right for you now. I want you to know me better. I want to know you better before we become closer, Allegra."

"You are considerate of me," she said. "I hope we are not separated for too long," she remarked. "I really am anxious to come to Hunter's Lair. Even if my rooms aren't ready, couldn't we set up a tented pavilion upon your lawns for me? Papa and Aunt Mama are so involved with each other. It is as if I do not exist for them, Quinton. I think I shall be quite uncomfortable in my childhood home now. I am beginning to see that I do not belong there any longer. Morgan Court is theirs."

He stroked her dark hair. It was very soft, and fragrant with lilacs. "I expect you will spend little time there, Allegra. I think that your new rooms will be ready for you quickly, and if they are not, I shall see that they are." He suddenly realized he did not like the idea of being parted from her either for he enjoyed her company. How odd, he thought to himself. He could not remember ever before having enjoyed female company. He was not misogynistic in the least, but other than his late grandmother, whom he had admired and respected, and the women who had soothed his carnal desires, Quinton Hunter had little knowledge of women.

They parted the following day. The Duke of Sedgwick rode west into Hereford while Lord Morgan and his family turned off the highway following a smaller, local road to Morgan Court. Reaching home that evening Allegra found herself alone. Honor had begged permission to visit her parents as she had not seen them in several months. As for Lord Morgan and his wife, they had hurried upstairs once the evening meal had been cleared away. It was midsummer, and the twilight was long now. Allegra wandered out to the stables to visit her gelding.

The horse greeted her with a welcoming nicker, obviously pleased to be back home after their journey from London. Allegra saw that the beast had been thoroughly brushed, fed, and watered. She rubbed its velvet muzzle, and then left the stables to walk through her father's garden. The marble summer house by the lake beckoned her. She climbed the three broad, wide steps, and entering the little pavilion, sat down. She already missed the duke. His company had been more than pleasant if she were willing to admit it. She liked being kissed as well.

"I thought I should find you here," a voice said.

"Rupert! How kind of you to come and welcome me home," Allegra replied. "Come, and sit with me. It is such a glorious evening. Do you hear the nightingale singing in the woods? There is no place as beautiful as Morgan Court."

"Then why leave it, Allegra?" he asked her. Rupert Tanner was a pleasant-looking young man with light brown hair and pale blue eyes. "You don't have to marry that duke. Your father is not so cruel as to make you marry a man you don't love."

"But I do want to marry Quinton," Allegra told him.

"Do you love him?" Rupert queried her. "Does he love you?"

"Of course we do not love each other." Allegra laughed. "We haven't known each other long enough to even know if we really like each other, but I think that we do. We get on very well."

"But I love you, Allegra!" Rupert cried. "I have loved you ever since we were children. Even if you did not love me, I should love you. A woman should be loved."

"Rupert, I can never think of you as a husband. You have been my brother, my best friend next to Sirena," Allegra responded. "Now stop being so foolish. My wedding date is set for October fifth in London at St. George's. The king, the queen, and Prinny are coming. Lady Bellingham says it will be the wedding of the year. Madame Paul has already begun making my wedding gown. It is to be white and silver. Quite fashionable, I am told," she finished with a smile.

"You are so young," he replied. "You cannot know what you want. You do not see past the excitement and the glamour of it all. You have never even been kissed!"

"Of course I've been kissed," Allegra snapped, now becoming irritated by this cow-eyed young man. "The duke and I have kissed many times. I quite like it, Rupert."

He suddenly stood, pulling her up with him. Then he kissed her. His mouth mashed against her; his tongue tried to push into her mouth; and he smelled of onions. "Allegra, Allegra, I love you! Marry me, my darling girl. I realize a country churchman's life cannot match the excitement of a duke's, but I adore you. Tell me you will send this duke packing, and be mine."

Allegra struggled from his embrace. She smacked him hard upon his cheek. "How dare you, Rupert Tanner? I was almost ready to forgive you for telling the duke that you and I had an informal agreement; but now I shall not. I am marrying Quinton Hunter because I want to marry him. No one is forcing me to it. It is my duty as my father's daughter to make the best marriage possible. As Papa's heiress a duke is just the right husband for me. Now go away. I do not want to see you again!"

"London has not been good for you, Allegra. You have grown hard," he accused her.

"Oh, Rupert, do not be such a dunderhead," Allegra told him. "My papa loved my mother, and what did love bring him? Scandal, embarrassment, and heartbreak. Quintan's antecedents all married for love. What did it bring them? Poverty, and the loss of much of what his family once had. The betrothal between the Duke of Sedgwick and myself is based upon sound principles. He has the pedigree, and I have the fortune. It is a perfect match. One made in heaven, you might say," she concluded with a small chuckle. "Go home. Find a nice young woman who will make a good clergyman's wife. One who will enjoy teaching the children their Bible stories, and ministering to the sick. I certainly shouldn't. Lord Stoneleigh's daughter, Georgianne, is moonstruck over you. In another year she'll be out of the schoolroom, and ready to marry. You really should ask for her before someone else does. Papa says she has a small, but respectable dowry."

"What has happened to you, Allegra?" he said.

"I have grown up, Rupert, but even before I did, I never said I would marry you, or that I desired to be a clergyman's wife with all the onerous duties it entails. You and I spoke about marrying so I might escape my London season. It was a childish fantasy, and Papa wisely saw that. I don't care for you except as a brother. I surely never will. In fact I shall never love anyone. Love only brings a host of problems I should rather not deal with, Rupert. Now, please go home. I don't want to see you again. Perhaps after I am married, and come to visit at Morgan Court, I may forgive you your behavior this evening, but not now." She stood stonily as he turned abruptly and departed the pavilion.

Allegra sat back down. Rupert had kissed her, and she hadn't liked it one bit. And he had pushed his tongue at her! Quinton had never done such a thing until she had become used to his kisses. Then she laughed to herself as she remembered asking Quinton if he was good at kissing. Well now she knew. He most certainly was good. Very good!

Madame Paul arrived two days later from London ready to fit Allegra's wedding gown. She brought with her a number of fabric samples from which Allegra would choose so Madame could make up a trousseau of gowns for the future duchess. She was full of the latest gossip she had received from France. The little king, Louis XVII, had survived his murdered parents by two years, dying in his prison on the eighth of June, in Paris.

"Some say he isn't dead, that the child in the Temple was an imposter," Madame told Allegra, "but those savages would never allow a Bourbon to escape their vigilance. The king is dead, poor child. Did I not hear that your brother was also a victim of the revolution, Miss Morgan? It was when Monsieur Danton took over the royal power in the autumn three years ago. That was when I escaped. It was a bloodbath, I tell you! No mercy was shown. Priests, artisans, people like me who did business with the well-to-do. Who else, I ask you, Miss Morgan, could afford a Madame Paul gown but an aristocrat? And plenty of them died. It was horrible. Little children in their satin gowns and suits guillotined before their parents' eyes. It was terrible! Terrible!"

"Yes," Allegra said tightly. "That was when my brother was murdered." She felt faint, but reaching out she steadied herself, her hand gripping the back of a chair.

"Ahh, Miss Morgan, I have upset you," Madame said, genuinely distressed. "I did not mean to do it. I have tried to put it all behind me, but the news of the young king has brought it all back to me once again." Reaching for her lawn handkerchief she dabbed at her eyes.

"It is all right, Madame Paul," Allegra told the modiste. "You have suffered, too, losing your sister, and having to leave your homeland. We don't even know where my brother's body was interred. There are no niceties in a revolution, are there?"

"No, there are not," the older woman agreed. She did not increase Allegra's sorrow further by explaining to her that the bodies of the slaughtered in Paris, and elsewhere in France, were tossed helter-skelter into open pits. The baskets of heads were dumped atop them, and then lime was poured on the carnage before it was covered with dirt. There were no markers, and by the following year the mass graves were invisible, covered by weeds and wildflowers.

Allegra was measured for her glorious wedding gown. It would, along with Allegra's new wardrobe, be delivered to the Berkley Square house at the appropriate time.

"For you, Miss Morgan, I have turned away at least half a dozen important clients," Madame Paul told Allegra.

"Gracious," the younger woman exclaimed, "why would you do such a foolish thing, madame?"

"My shop is small, and I have but Francine and two seamstresses," came the reply. "I must weigh and balance who I will accept as a client. Your papa is the richest man in England, and your husband-to-be is a duke. Then, too, there is the fact that you pay your bills on time."

Allegra thought for a long moment, and then she said to the Frenchwoman, "Could you use an investor, madame?"

"An investor?" Madame cocked her head to one side.

"Yes, an investor. Someone who would finance a larger shop, and more staff for you. In return you would render a portion of your profits. It seems a shame that you cannot increase your business when everyone knows you are the finest dressmaker in London. You could still remain exclusive while turning a neat profit," Allegra said.

"Turn a bit for me, Miss Morgan," Madame Paul said. "You could arrange for your papa to invest in my business?"

"Not Papa," was the reply. "Me. My father will tell you I am quite astute at picking my investments."

"And what kind of a return would you expect on such an investment, Miss Morgan?" Madame asked despite the fact her mouth was full of pins.

"I should want thirty percent of your business," Allegra said.

"Sacrebleu, mademoiselle! C'est impossible! C'est fou!" the Frenchwoman cried. Then her eyes narrowed, and she said, "Fifteen percent, mademoiselle."

"Madame, I will not haggle with you," Allegra answered her. "I am young, but I am no fool. Twenty-five percent, and I will accept nothing less. Think, Madame Paul! A man would not put his monies in a dress shop. Only a woman would, and who among the ladies of the ten thousand would make you such an offer as I. I will not tell you how to run your business, or what clients to take, or what fabrics to purchase. I will be a silent partner, contributing only the monies you need to succeed. In return I will receive twenty-five percent of the profits, and Madame Paul, there will be profits."

"You may step down, Miss Morgan, I have finished," the dressmaker said, and then she added, "you drive a hard bargain, but I agree."

"And Mr. Trent will oversee the books," Allegra added.

"Miss Morgan!" The Frenchwoman looked outraged.

Allegra laughed. "Why should you have to bother with the business of your business, madame? You are an artiste."

Now it was Madame Paul who laughed. "And you are a very clever young lady," she replied.

"Where will you go on your wedding trip?" Madame Paul asked Allegra. "Portugal and Italy are beautiful, I am told."

"We have not discussed it," Allegra said. "I am not even certain we will go away. It seems a waste of good coin to me."

Madame was shocked. "Every young lady of your station should have a wedding trip," she said. "Even if it is only to Scotland."

Allegra laughed. "Then I must certainly ask the duke when we meet again what he has planned. Perhaps he wishes to surprise me."

"You will not have the proper clothing if he does that," Madame Paul said, "but then that is just like a man. Give them two pairs of breeches with matching tailcoats, some neckcloths, and they are content. They do not realize what we women go through for the sake of fashion." She helped Allegra from the gown she was fitting. "Send word to me in London when you know your destination. I will see you have the appropriate garments, Miss Morgan."

When the Frenchwoman had returned to London Allegra found that she actually missed her. She had sent Rupert away since he could not behave like a gentleman, and Sirena no longer lived nearby. Her father, for the first time since Allegra could remember, was depending entirely upon his secretary, Charles Trent; occupying himself instead with his new wife. They arose late, and sought their apartment early. They rode out over the estate daily, and as each day went by seemed more involved with one another. Allegra had never felt more bereft in her entire life. The knowledge that they were not doing it deliberately was no comfort at all. Several of their neighbors called with good wishes for the newlyweds, but it was Allegra who accepted them, thanking them, and promising that Lord and Lady Morgan would be entertaining quite shortly. Allegra read. She rode her gelding. She wandered about the gardens. And she was growing very bored.

Hunter's Lair was less than a day's ride from Morgan Court. Finally one clear morning in late June, Allegra mounted her gelding and rode off to find the duke. Only Honor knew where she was going, and she had promised not to tell Lord and Lady Morgan until evening came. Allegra wore her riding skirt, but beneath it she had on a pair of her brother's old breeches which allowed her to ride astride, a posture she found far more comfortable than the sidesaddle ladies were supposed to affect. The upper portion of her body was clad in a white shirt, but she had eschewed her jacket as the day was warm. Her dark hair was pulled back and fashioned into a single braid. She wore no hat.

She had never ridden off of her father's lands alone, and found the idea of being on her own very exciting. After two hours she finally reached the high road. She was just able to make out on the worn wooden sign, the word HEREFORD, and the arrow pointing west. The duke's estate was located just over the border that separated the two counties of Worcester and Hereford. Allegra rode past orchards and fields of ripening grain. The road traveled through pastures of sheep and cattle. There was little traffic but for an occasional farm cart to be passed by. When the sun was at the midheaven she stopped to rest her horse, and to eat the picnic she had brought along for herself.

Refreshed, she had traveled onward. Then finally in late afternoon she saw it. A signpost pointing in several different directions, and indicating several destinations, one of which was Sedgwick village. Allegra turned her horse, wondering as she did so how distant Sedgwick was. She had never ridden so far in all of her life, and she was tired. Worse, her bottom ached from the long ride. Coming to the top of the hill she saw it. Stopping, Allegra could only gaze down with pleasure on her new home.

There was the village. Rows of neat thatched-roof cottages with their colorful gardens, all abloom now. There were orchards of pears and apples just as he had described and fields around them with his fine horses grazing peacefully in the summer sunshine. There, just beyond, was Hunter's Lair, set upon a low rise, the sun setting its windows ablaze with the afternoon light. Allegra kicked her horse into a canter, and hurried down the narrow roadway. She slowed her mount as she passed through the village, pleased to see a fieldstone church, and several small shops. And then she was at the road's end, and the gates of Hunter's Lair were before her-open-and to her eyes welcoming.

She was home at last, Allegra thought as she cantered through the gates. She loved this place already, and she fully sympathized with Quinton's passion to keep his seat from the hands of strangers. Then she saw him, and waving, she brought the gelding to a halt, laughing at the surprised look on his face.

"I got tired of waiting for you," she told him as he lifted her down from her horse. "I am bored senseless at Morgan Court. Papa and Aunt Mama see no one but each other. Sirena is no longer there. I had to send Rupert Tanner packing. I could not wait a moment longer to see Hunter's Lair."

"Does your father know where you are?" was his first question.

"I left a note for Honor to give them when they realize I am not there. Perhaps today. Perhaps tomorrow, the way they are carrying on these days. Gracious, Quinton, love makes one foolish, doesn't it?"

"And you rode all the way from Morgan Court unaccompanied?" was his next stern question. He did not look happy, she realized.

"Of course. Who else would I ride with, Quinton? Have I come at an inopportune moment?" She wondered why he was becoming so upset.

"Are you mad?" he began to shout at her. "You have ridden over twenty miles by yourself, Allegra, and it is God's mercy that you were not accosted upon the road!" His heart was hammering. Was she as reckless as he had once been? But his French adventures were over. He had to be sensible now that he was taking a wife. And he was certain that he didn't resent that fact.

"The road was practically empty, sir. There was no danger that I could see," she told him frostily. "And do not raise your voice to me. I do not like it."

She was here. She was safe. He could not help himself. He burst out laughing. "Allegra! Allegra! Are you always this impetuous? What am I to do with you? I cannot get you back home tonight. Pray God your father does not worry himself sick not knowing if you are alive or waylaid along your route. There are highwaymen plying their trade along the roads, my dear. Did you not consider that?"

"Do highwaymen strike in the daylight?" she demanded. "And why would they bother with a girl riding alone with no visible purse or jewelry? Your concern is unwarranted, I think."

"Highwaymen do attack in daylight," he assured her, "and as you are well dressed, alone, and riding a fine beast, a robber would consider you rather excellent prey. And after he had robbed you of your goods and chattels, he might have also sought to rob you of your virtue, Allegra. Did you consider that at all when you set out so capriciously? Even your father's wealth could not have bought you a duke for a husband had you been ruined in such a terrible fashion, my dear," he finished.

"You are horrible!" she cried, but the truth of his words had frightened her. She had not considered any misadventures when she had set out to come to Hunter's Lair. She had only contemplated her own boredom with life at Morgan Court. She flushed nervously.

"Well," the duke said, seeing his words had finally made an impression upon her, "come and see your apartments, Allegra. They are just about finished. You will have to choose your own furnishings from among the house's contents. You may very well want to purchase new items, and of course, you will need fabrics for curtains, drapes, and hangings. Still, my dear, if you wish to move in tonight, I can have a cot bed brought for you. Tomorrow, I will send one of my servants to your father to assure him that despite your willful misbehavior, you are quite safe with me, and to escort Honor back here. I certainly hope our daughters do not have your sense of adventure, Allegra."

"Perhaps we will have no daughters," she said pettishly.

"I hope we have at least one, and that she looks like you, my dear. I just don't want her to be as madcap."

"Where is your brother, George?" she asked, changing the subject. "I am to marry you in three months, and I have not met your closest living relation yet. Why didn't he come to London with you?"

"Because it was all I could do to afford to come to London myself. You will meet George when he comes in from the fields where he is overseeing the laborers. My little brother is a farmer at heart."

"Like the king," she said with a small smile. She was glad he was no longer angry with her.

"Like the king, but without his resources." The duke laughed.

"Perhaps we should buy him a farm," Allegra said seriously.

The duke laughed again. "Don't say such a thing to Georgie, or he will be your slave for life, my dear. He wants his own land more than anything else in this world. 1 thought that he might prefer a commission in his majesty's armies, or a pulpit in some small church, but he really wants land to farm. That and perhaps Squire Franklyn's youngest daughter, Melinda."

"Then he must have his own farm, for I know no father will give his daughter in marriage to a penniless man-unless, of course, he is a duke," she chuckled mischievously.

He laughed a third time, and this time most heartily. "You are really quite a vixen, my dear," he told her, but his tone was amused, and even perhaps a bit affectionate, Allegra thought. "Ahh," he said, "here is the subject of our discussion even now." He waved, calling, "Come over, George, and meet your about-to-be sister-in-law."

A somewhat younger version of Quinton Hunter rode up, sliding easily off his mount. While his brother's eyes were a silvery gray, George Hunter's were a light blue. He wore no jacket, and his shirt, open at the neck, offered her a view of his damp chest. "This is Miss Morgan?" he asked, smiling warmly at her. "Why, damn me, Quint, she is even prettier than you said, but then you have never been much for words unless it concerned your horses." He bowed to Allegra. "Your servant, Miss Morgan."

Allegra curtsied. "I am pleased to meet you, brother George," she told him. "I am afraid I have shocked your brother by appearing unannounced, but I think he is over his pique now."

"She rode the twenty miles unescorted," Quinton Hunter explained dryly to his younger brother.

"Did you? Well, damn me, Quint, she's a game gel. You won't always get your way with her, I can see that," he chuckled.

"Behave, youngster," his elder warned sternly. "Allegra has threatened to purchase a farm for you."

"She has?" George Hunter's look was one of astonishment. Then he said, "You are gulling me, Quint, and it isn't fair."

"No, he isn't," Allegra told the young man. "Have you some place in mind, George? What do the owners want for it? Is it good land? Arable, and well watered?"

"Do you mean it? Having my dream come true cannot be this easy, can it?"

"I am not your fairy godmother," Allegra said seriously to the young man. "If you have a farm in mind, George, I will purchase it for you, but you will only own a half interest until you pay me back for the other half. It is business, plain and simple. I provide the capital for this investment, and you provide everything else. Papa's lawyers will write up an agreement for us, if indeed you do agree."

"Yes!" he told her without hesitation.

"We shall have the lawyers do the negotiation, lest the price of your heart's desire be inflated when it is learned that the monies come from Lord Morgan's daughter. Now, have you any income other than what you will earn from your lands?"

"One hundred and thirty pounds a year from my grandmother," he said.

"Then, with lands to farm, and your income, you can certainly ask Squire Franklyn for his daughter's hand. It is unlikely, unless she is a great beauty, that she will receive a better offer," Allegra said sensibly. "We shall have two weddings in the family instead of one!" She turned to the duke. "Does that suit you, my lord?"

He was amazed at how she had just taken charge of everything, and rendered all of their lives smooth and trouble free. "I am no longer fearful that you rode here unescorted, Allegra," he said to her. "Any highwayman who accosted you would have found he had met his match, for your wits are far sharper than any weapon a robber could carry." Yet despite his flattering words he could not help but wonder if her no-nonsense ways were suitable behavior for a Duchess of Sedgwick.

Allegra smiled. It was a well-satisfied smile. "Thank you," she answered him simply. She had, she believed, in these past few minutes gained his respect. That respect meant far more to her than any cloying sentiment of love would have meant. Yes, it had been a most successful London season, and it would be a most successful marriage as well.