The Duchess

Chapter 7

Quinton Hunter sat alone of an evening in the small room that served him as a personal billet, and from which he conducted the business of his estate. It held an ancient desk and a rather battered tapestried chair. There was a double leaded pane casement window to his right, a paneled door to his left, and a fireplace before him with narrow bookcases built in on either side of the stone hearth. The fire blazed merrily, taking the damp chill off the July evening. The house was quiet now. The workmen had gone for the day. His betrothed wife and her saucy maid were upstairs in the duchess's new apartments. Honor had arrived two days after her mistress, sitting atop a cart that was filled to overflowing with some of Allegra's belongings. The rest, the duke was told, would follow. And they had. He had not thought such a young girl could have so many possessions.

The duke's thoughts were troubled. He knew he had to marry. He knew he needed a rich wife. He was committed to marrying Allegra Morgan, and yet now he was questioning the wisdom in that decision. She wasn't at all the sort of girl he felt would make a suitable Duchess of Sedgwick. The women before her had been deferential young ladies, yielding to the wishes of their lords even when those gentlemen were patently wrong. Allegra, he already knew, was not such a lady. What kind of a duchess would she make him? Perhaps it would have been better to have not married at all. To have allowed his proud line to die with him, and with his younger brother, George.

It was George's situation that had brought about these second thoughts. He had felt so bad for his sibling, and then Allegra had come along, solving George's problems in a trice. Quinton Hunter had to admit to himself that while he was delighted for his brother, he was frankly irritated by Allegra's actions. It had been so easy for her, and damnit, life wasn't that easy. But mayhap it was for the daughter of the richest man in England. And there was the other fact that gnawed at his pride most of all. He had compromised his family's name by making a match based solely on his bride's financial resources. What kind of a man of honor did that? A desperate one, he admitted to himself.

Yet Allegra was a great beauty. She had perfect manners, and a kind heart. But she was also outspoken to the point of rudeness on certain occasions. While patient with her inferiors, she was totally lacking in that virtue where her betters were concerned. She had absolutely no tolerance for fools. And she was so deucedly independent, particularly where monies were concerned.

"I will," she had already informed him, "oversee all the household chits without interference, Quinton. Some servants are apt to become light-fingered when tempted. Best not to tempt them."

"The Crofts have been with this family for centuries," he had haughtily told her.

"I am not speaking of the Crofts," she returned. "I shall have to hire a full staff, Quinton. You cannot expect dear old Croft, and his good wife, to run such an establishment as we shall soon have. I shall, of course, pay the servants myself out of the allowance that Papa has given me. The monies you receive are yours to do with as you please. A wife runs the household; a husband the estate. Or so Aunt Mama had instructed me. Is she wrong then?"

He had grudgingly admitted that the new Lady Morgan was most correct in her assessment of a couple's home duties. But it had irritated him to do so, though he knew not why. And Allegra had blithely gone her way then, tightening her hold upon him and his household by virtue of her wealth. He hated the ostentation of her fortune, yet neither Allegra, nor her exquisite taste could be called flamboyant, or even pretentious. Her father's wealth had saved him and his estates, he well knew, an admission which only seemed to cause him further resentment.

But his home was coming to life as he had never known it. He had to admit to himself that he liked what he was seeing. The exterior of Hunter's Lair was unchanged. It was built in the shape of an H, which had been the fashion in the year 1500 when the first Tudor king, Henry VII reigned, and the house had been reconstructed after a devastating fire. The brick was warm and mellow where it could be viewed beneath the dark green ivy. It had high stone chimneys, and a number of slate gables and roofs. Where the slates had been damaged, or gone entirely, they had been replaced. Every one of the leaded paned windows had been repainted and washed.

His beloved hall, the only part of the original house to have survived the fire of 1498, had been left basically intact as he had requested. But Allegra had put her new band of maidservants and footmen to work cleaning and polishing the stone and paneled walls, scrubbing the stone fireplaces and the window wells enclosing the windows. He entered the hall one day to find footmen on great tall ladders washing those windows. To his amazement he realized there were stained glass designs in each of the windows that he had never even known were there. The tapestries and the silken banners in the hall were taken down and repaired, the dirt and the dust beaten out of them before they were restored to their places. When all was done, the furniture glowed. The highboard as well as the sideboards held bowls of flowers that perfumed the air of the Great Hall in a most pleasing manner.

The once narrow entry of the house with its several small and useless rooms on either side of it had become a spacious and elegant rounded foyer with staircases sweeping down on either side of the room. Six days a week the workmen swarmed about the house. There were buckets of plaster everywhere. A new dining room was being constructed, its walls to be covered in red brocade and hung with fine paintings. Chandeliers had been ordered from Waterford in Ireland, although they would not be ready until early the following year. New furniture had been commissioned from Mr. Chippendale's workshops in London. It would be in place by their wedding day.

The first floor of the house also contained the duke's library, the duchess's morning room, the duke's small office, and a drawing room. The second floor of the house was devoted to the new dining room with its pantry, a magnificent ballroom, and another small drawing room for the family's use. The tiny rabbit warren of rooms that had previously existed had been demolished. They had been of no importance. The third floor of the house held the ducal and guest bedchambers. The fourth floor was given over to the servants' quarters.

Allegra's apartments had been the first rooms finished. They were done in her favorite colors. The private salon had pale green brocaded walls above a gilded chair rail, and beneath the chair rail the wall was paneled in light wood. The Aubusson carpet had a light green background with a floral design of deeper green, gold, and rose. It lay over a wide board oak floor. The draperies were striped in pale green and gold silk brocade. The sofa was upholstered in gold brocade sprigged with a tiny cream dot. The French chairs were done in a gold and cream brocade. Upon the fireplace mantel stood a fine gilded clock which chimed not only the hour and the half hour, but the quarter hour as well. Lord Morgan had personally ordered the furniture for his daughter before they had departed the city. It was made of mahogany, and its design quite graceful and very elegant. On the delicate side tables were small china bowls of dried rose petals mixed with gillyflowers. The candelabra and candlesticks were gold gilt over sterling silver. The lamps were crystal.

The bedchamber was decorated in rose and cream. The bedstead, which was quite old, was of golden oak, and hung with rose silk brocade draperies that could be drawn all about the bed for privacy. Allegra had never seen such a large bed, but it fit comfortably into the chamber. It came from the previous century, but Allegra liked it, and would not allow it to be replaced. There was a mahogany armoire, a dressing table with its own carved mirror, a matching chest of drawers, and a small table by the bed, along with a rose and cream-colored tapestried chair by the fireplace. On the wide board oak floors was another Aubusson carpet of deep rose decorated with a border of cream and lighter pink roses with deep green leaves. The windows were hung with cream and rose sprigged silk brocade draperies. There was also a Chippendale chest with a fine gilt mirror hung over it on the wall that led to the dressing room. On the other side of the dressing room was a pretty windowed chamber for Honor that was comfortably furnished with a bedstead, a drawered coffer, a night table, and a chair. The duke's apartments, now under construction, were next to Allegra's with a connecting door between their bedchambers.

No, he could not complain, even to himself, about the improvements that were being made to the house, Quinton Hunter thought. His bride-to-be's never-ending fortune was a godsend in that respect. The duke had always loved his home, but it was fast becoming the showplace he had always known it could be. That, and his deep sense of honor were what kept him from crying off his match to Miss Allegra Morgan. It was becoming quite obvious to him that once he had sired a proper number of children with her that they would, like so many couples of their day, have to lead separate lives.

And yet his brother was happy. So happy that the duke felt almost guilty in his exasperation. The negotiations were now under way for the purchase of George's farm, some five hundred acres nearby. They would be his by month's end. Squire Franklyn, learning of the quite improved circumstances of his daughter's suitor, was ready to give his blessing to a match between their families. The talk was even being bandied about regarding a late August wedding, which would, of course, be a simple country affair.

The squire, a practical man, had always liked young Lord Hunter, but a man without lands wasn't a fit son-in-law. Now, however, all that had changed. He had even learned that George had a small income in the bargain. His daughter would be Lady Hunter with her own house and an income. Melinda, he proudly told the duke, would have a dowry of one hundred fifty pounds of gold, her own plates, linens, and clothing.

Quinton Hunter smiled in retrospect. Life for his little brother would be happy and uncomplicated. He already envisioned a house full of nieces and nephews. He, himself, faced a different future with a strong-willed girl who would grow into a stronger-willed woman with the birth of each of her children, and the power such births would bring her. Allegra would not follow in her mother's footsteps. Once she became his wife she would remain loyal and devoted to their family for the rest of her life. She had been carefully raised to understand exactly what her duty was, and she would do it.

The duke sighed. Had his antecedents been right when they married for love? Love had brought his family to the abyss of indigence and beggary, but they had been happy in their impoverishment. Hadn't they? He sighed again, running his big hand through his dark hair. He had never wanted to be rich, just comfortable. He would have been content to marry a plain girl with a dowry sufficient to restore his home and keep them comfy. Such girls, however, had been looking for richer men. Once his family's name had meant something. He would have been sought after, indeed fought over. No more, he thought sadly. Today it was the rich who prospered even more.

Quinton Hunter shook himself. What the hell was he feeling sorry for, he asked silently? His bride-to-be was a beautiful young girl. Perhaps if he showed her a little more kindness he could cajole her into a more reasonable frame of mind. She was just spoiled. Her father had indulged her. She was barely grown. She would have her outrageous allowance to play with each year, and be as happy as she had obviously always been. Allegra was like a beautiful young mare. She needed to be gentled, and she needed firmness. She was a sensible creature, and in time would come to understand there could be but one rule in their house. His.

The days flew by. George's farm was purchased. It had a fine stone house with a good slate roof, a sturdy barn, and a granary. There was an apple orchard, and young Lord Hunter intended turning one of his fallow fields into a second orchard, this one for pears. His fields were currently let to his neighbors, but next year he would grow his own grain. His father-in-law-to-be gifted him with a small flock of black-faced Shropshire sheep. Allegra wrote to her father, and shortly afterward a herd of twelve cows and a bull were driven into one of George's fields.

The betrothal between Miss Melinda Franklyn and Lord George Hunter was announced. The wedding would be celebrated on the last day of August.

Together Allegra and Quinton attended the wedding of the Earl of Aston to Lady Eunice Tarleton on July twentieth. It was held at Astondale, the earl's home village, an hour's carriage ride from Hunter's Lair. It was there that Allegra saw Sirena for the first time since her cousin had gone off on her wedding trip. Sirena was obviously blooming, and very happy.

"Mama says you ran away to Hunter's Lair," Sirena laughed as she hugged her cousin warmly. "You really are a naughty puss, coz."

"I ran away from all their billing and cooing," Allegra told her cousin bluntly. "Really, Sirena, it was quite embarrassing, I assure you. I decided I might as well come sooner to Hunter's Lair, and a good thing, too. The architect needed me. There was far more work to the restoration than anyone had anticipated."

"When may we come and see it?" Sirena begged prettily.

"Ohh, we are not yet ready to receive guests," Allegra said. "The duke's apartment has only just been finished. Ohh, Sirena, you should see my rooms. All my favorite colors, and so beautiful. We will be fortunate to have everything done by the wedding, but I have told Mr. Gardner that it absolutely must be finished in time for my ball on October thirty-first."

"But your wedding is October fifth," Sirena said. "Aren't you taking a wedding trip, Allegra?"

"I have no idea," came the answer, "but if we are it must be a brief one for my ball is most firmly set for the night of the thirty-first of October. It will be my first formal entertainment as the Duchess of Sedgwick, and I want it to be perfect."

"Don't you and the duke ever speak together?" Sirena asked.

"When we have something to say to one another."

Sirena shook her head. "If you must marry Quinton Hunter, Allegra, couldn't you at least try to love him a little?" she said.

"Sirena, dearest, we have been over this before," Allegra reminded her cousin. "Quinton and I have a very sensible arrangement. We are both content with it, I assure you."

The cousins met again several weeks later at Lord Walworth's wedding to Caroline Bellingham. Sirena looked rather peaked this time.

"Breeding," Lady Bellingham said archly. "I see it in her eyes."

"You aren't!" Allegra squealed excitedly.

"I am," Sirena said, "but I shall still be able to be your attendant, Allegra. I promised you, and I will keep my word."

"Does Aunt Mama know yet?" Allegra wondered.

Sirena shook her head.

"You write her this day, my gel, or I shall," Lady Bellingham said sternly. "Your mama has waited long enough for grandchildren."

"My sisters have children," Sirena protested.

"Why so they do, bless me, so they do!" Lady Bellingham said. "But it is your child that will best please Olympia, I am certain."

“”Sirena and Ocky are to become parents," Allegra told the duke as they rode home after the wedding.

"I know," he said. "Are you happy for your cousin?"

"Yes," Allegra said slowly, but without much conviction.

Reaching over he took her hand in his. Their eyes met, and the duke said, "What is it that is troubling you, my dear?"

"Sirena says she will be able to attend me at our wedding, but I do not think she will. She has a delicate constitution, Quinton. A trip to London may be too much for her in her condition." Allegra sighed deeply. "We are more like sisters than cousins. I cannot endanger her, or her child." She bit her lip, but even the sharp pain of the bite could not prevent the tears from slipping down her cheeks.

"If you could choose where we would be wed, my dear, where would it be?" he asked her.

"If I could choose? But I cannot, Quinton. We must be married with all the pomp and dignity due your family's position. Lady Bellingham is right. It must be St. George's in London. I could not ask anything less of you, my lord."

"Your commitment to my history and my name is to be commended, Allegra, but you still have not answered my question. If you could choose where we would wed, where would it be?" He gave the little hand in his a tiny squeeze of encouragement. "Come, my dear, where?"

"The Great Hall at Hunter's Lair," she burst out.

"Indeed?" He was very much surprised.

"Yes!" she told him. "I love Hunter's Lair, and the Great Hall is the perfect place for such an event. Especially now that it is clean. And I would have only our family and friends. And we would give everyone on the estate the day off, and set up a feast for them on the lawns. We should come from the hall where our feast was being held, and greet our tenants and workers. It would be wonderful!" Then her face fell. "But I know it cannot be. We must be married at St. George's, and have a proper wedding breakfast afterward with the king and the queen as our guests, and Prinny and Mr. Brummell."

"No," he replied. "We shall be wed in exactly the manner you have said, my dear." Then he kissed her hand, and their eyes met again. He felt as if something had cracked within his chest, and yet he was fine.

"Ohh, Quinton," she said softly, "could we really be married in such a fashion? Then Sirena could come, for her home is not so far away, is it? That would make me so very happy." Her violet eyes were shining with pleasure.

"Would it?" he answered her softly, and then he leaned forward, and kissed her lips gently. "I am coming to realize, Allegra," he told her, "that even if you are strong-willed, opinionated, and far too outspoken, that I am beginning to want to see you happy." Then he added, "There is nothing in our most practical arrangement that precludes our being happy, is there, my dear?" His silver eyes twinkled at her.

"I do not believe so, my lord," she replied, her voice a little breathless. Her heart was hammering rather quickly, and she could feel that her cheeks were flushed.

"Excellent," he said. Then he tucked her hand deeper into his.

"Are you happy with me?" she ventured boldly. "Despite my faults? I do not think I can change, Quinton. I am not certain I want to change. Weak women are always taken advantage of to their detriment."

"I do not believe you shall ever be taken advantage of, my dear Allegra," he assured her with a chuckle. All his doubts, and dark mood of the past few days had vanished suddenly. He wondered, briefly, why he now felt he could conquer the world.

"How far is Pickford?" she asked him. "I should like to go and visit my cousin now that she is home from her wedding trip."

"Just half an hour's drive away, my dear," he told her. Wedding trip! Egad! How could he have forgotten to make plans for a wedding trip? "Tell me, Allegra," he began. "Where do you think we should go after our wedding?"

"Must we go anywhere?" she asked.

"Perhaps not right away, if you do not want it, but next spring I should like to take you to Italy. We might go to Rome, or Venice, Allegra, if it would please you, my dear."

"My mother lives in Italy. I should not like to meet her."

"The contessa does not reside in Venice. We shall go to Venice, Allegra, and you shall not meet her. It is a beautiful city, my dear, built on the edge of the sea, and the streets are not paved, but are water, and carriages are not used but rather charming little boats called gondolas ferry people from place to place."

"How interesting," she cried. "Yes. Let us go to Venice next spring. I would like that."

Allegra, despite her little imperfections of character, was going to be an excellent Duchess of Sedgwick. She only needed his guidance, and he was after all fourteen years her senior. He would share his experience with her. Her desire to be married at Hunter's Lair had surprised him, but it had also pleased him very much.

He began to spend more time with her. They rode together in the morning, and then went about their own pursuits, sometimes meeting again at luncheon, and sometimes not until dinner. But he made every effort now to spend the evening with her. They walked in the gardens, and her ability at kissing improved daily. She had proficient skills with the pianoforte, and sang most prettily. One evening he sat next to her on the bench, turning the pages of her music. He found the back of her neck and the two unruly dark curls of her hair, damp with the heat of a summer's night, irresistible. His arms slipped about her narrow waist, and he kissed her nape.

Allegra ceased playing, turning her head to his. His mouth fused itself with hers in a hot kiss. Something had changed, she realized suddenly, as his hand began to caress her breasts. She froze. What was she to do? Was anything required of her but her compliance? Unable to help herself she began to tremble, and a small cry escaped her lips. She found herself slumping against his arm, unable to catch her breath for a moment.

"Damnit, I have forgotten how innocent you truly are, my dear," he apologized to her.

Allegra swallowed hard. "Will this be part of our cohabitation?" she asked in all seriousness. She could, to her acute embarrassment, feel her nipples pushing against the silk fabric of her gown's tight bodice. Her heart was thumping wildly. She hadn't found his touch at all repellent, but rather exciting. And she was filled with questions. Did she get to touch him? And where?

"It is called love play, my dear," he told her. "You are so charming, Allegra, I could not help myself. I think it is past time we came to know one another better, don't you? Our wedding is just over a month away now."

"I found it exciting," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"When you touched me," she went on. "I found it exciting when you caressed my breasts, Quinton."

"Did you?" He was encouraged and a bit shocked by her candidness.

"Am I allowed to touch you?" she asked naively.

"Not yet," he gulped, surprised.

"When? And where?" she persisted.

"Eventually, and I shall instruct you," he answered her, and he felt his member tingling. My God, the little witch was arousing him!

"I cannot help but be curious," Allegra told him. "Once I said I had not yet considered the carnal side of our marriage, but you are right. Our wedding day is fast approaching, Quinton. I find my curiosity increasing. We have been so proper when we are together that it makes me giggle when I think what people must imagine has been between us this summer. Not that I care, mind you. My conscience is quite clear. Yours should certainly be as clear, unless, of course, you have some bit of fluff hidden away from me. I have certainly heard no gossip regarding such a matter."

"Nor should you have if I indeed had a mistress, which I do not," he responded stiffly. There was that appalling outspokenness again.

"Oh, dear! I have offended you again," Allegra said.

Quinton Hunter laughed. He couldn't help it. Allegra could be so disingenuous, and at the damndest times. What was he going to do with her? For lack of any other answer he kissed her again. His arms wrapped themselves about her, his lips pressing firmly against her lips until the softness beneath his parted slightly. He ran his tongue along those sweet lips, causing her to gasp softly as her eyes flew open, and she stared at him astounded. "You taste of peaches," he said.

"I… I had some at supper," she responded. "Why did you do that? Lick my lips?"

"Because it gave me pleasure to do so, and it will give you pleasure also now that you are no longer surprised," he explained. "There will come a time when we are in our marriage bed that I will want to taste every bit of you. Even the most secret parts," he finished.

Heat suffused her body at his words. "Are you attempting to seduce me, Quinton?" she asked honestly.

"Do you want me to?" he countered. His silver eyes were half-closed.

"Perhaps. I am not certain yet if I am brave enough," she answered him. His eyebrows were so black, and so thick.

"Even though we are at home," he replied suddenly, breaking the spell that had been between them, "I do not want our servants gossiping should they find us kissing and alone in the drawing room, Allegra."

Allegra looked up and whispered to him, "I want to be kissed and caressed more, my lord. I quite like it."

"Then you shall be, my dear," he promised her. "1 want you to be happy, Allegra." He was surprised to realize that he meant it.

"I want you to be happy," she said. "I truly do!"

She sat in his lap the following evening in the gardens, sighing as his hands brushed over her small breasts. His kisses were intoxicating now. She wanted more, and more, and more.

He scolded her gently, "You are far too greedy."

"But I adore kissing! And you really are an excellent kisser, Quinton. Rupert Tanner kissed me before I had to send him packing. His embrace was disgusting to me, while I cannot get enough of yours," Allegra admitted quite freely to the duke. Then she changed the subject. "Do you find my gown too constricting? Wouldn't you like to touch my bared breasts?"

"Yes," he groaned. Damn, but she was exciting him!

"Then come to my bedchamber after Honor has gone to her room," Allegra suggested to him. "I want to know what it is like to lie with a man in one's bed. Will we be naked?"

His head was spinning with growing lust. She was a virgin. He knew she was a virgin. Virgins were either shrinking violets, or wildly curious, he had been told. Then he wondered if she had been this curious with Rupert Tanner. Hadn't she just admitted to kissing him?

"Did you let that pious psalm singer touch you?" he growled at her. "Did you invite him into your bed, Allegra?" Jesus! He sounded like a jealous man. Why would he be jealous? Only a man in love would be jealous. He wasn't in love with her. He wasn't!

"Do not be absurd, Quinton," she said in a tone that dragged him back into the reality of their situation. "Rupert kissed me once. He was trying to dissuade me from marrying you. As you are aware his sly old papa wanted a match between us-but we were friends, not lovers."

"Were friends?"

"He would not stop pleading his case," Allegra said. "It was quite annoying. I sent him away telling him I should not like to see him again. His behavior was inexcusable, Quinton. I was already betrothed to you, and as I had no objections to the match, why should Rupert Tanner? Perhaps in a few years I shall forgive him, but certainly not now!"

"Of course," he agreed. "He behaved like a perfect cad."

"Poor Rupert," Allegra continued. "It is not easy being a younger son, I fear, but he will find the right girl eventually." Then her violet eyes met his silver ones. "Will you come to my bedchamber later?"

"You are quite shameless, Allegra," he said softly.

"May I not be shameless with my husband?" she asked.

"We are not yet wed, Miss Morgan," he said.

"If you would rather wait until we are I am content to do so," Allegra told him sweetly. "I just thought if we came to know each other better in this manner, then we could consummate our marriage on our wedding night without much ado. It seemed a practical matter to me, but perhaps I am too bold, and do not understand, Quinton. You really must be more forthcoming with me," she concluded.

"Go to your room, Allegra," he ordered her. "When Honor is gone, I shall visit you. You must promise me, however, that you will abide by my decisions in matters that you do not yet understand. Have I your pledge?"

"Yes, Quinton," she replied meekly.

"And wear your night garment," he warned her.

"Yes, Quinton," Allegra answered. Then she turned, and hurried from the garden. At last she was to learn some of the delights of passion! Sirena had said they were quite wonderful. Of course she loved Ocky, Allegra thought, but even if I don't love Quinton, it should still be quite pleasant. A man's mistress doesn't love him, but she enjoys passion.

Honor was waiting for her mistress. She had Allegra's porcelain high-back tub filled with scented water. "You didn't stay long out in the moonlight with his lordship tonight," she noted.

"There is a chill in the air," Allegra excused herself. "It is August. Lord George's wedding is in just five more days."

"And then comes your wedding," Honor said. "I suppose it will be nice to see old London again." She helped Allegra into her tub, and began putting her clothes away, separating the laundry first.

"The duke and I have decided not to be married in London," Allegra told her servant. "I have already written to Papa about it. Sirena cannot travel to London now that she is breeding. I just can't be married without her by my side. The duke prefers being wed here at Hunter's Lair as do I. Just the family and our friends."

"Well, you won't hear no complaints from me on the matter," Honor admitted. "Where are we going on the wedding trip?"

"We are staying here, but perhaps next spring we shall go to Italy," Allegra told her servant. "Ohh, this water feels so good."

"Italy? Lord bless me, miss, I never expected that I would travel," Honor said excitedly.

"The duke says we shall go to a city where the streets are made of water and everybody travels in boats," Allegra continued.

"Go on, miss, you're funning me," Honor said. "Streets made of water? There ain't no such thing!"

"The duke says there are," Allegra replied.

"Since when did what His Grace said mean anything to you?" the saucy maid responded pertly. Then her eyes grew wide. "Ohh, miss! Are you falling in love with him?"

"Of course not," Allegra denied. "What an odd thing for you to say, Honor. Why would I fall in love with him? And how does one fall in love in the first place? Is love a tangible thing? And if it is, where is it that I, or anyone else, could fall into it?" She laughed.

Honor had finished putting away her mistress's garments. Now she took up the large sea sponge and began to wash Allegra's back. "Sometimes, miss," she said, "you say the funniest things. I don't understand half of them, but I love you anyway." She rinsed the soap from the girl's long back. "There, if you've done the other parts, you can get out of your tub." She helped Allegra up, wrapped her in a large warmed towel as her mistress stepped from the tub. When she had dried the girl off she slipped a soft white cotton night garment over her head. "There, miss," she said, satisfied.

Allegra tied the blue ribbons at the neckline into a little bow. Seating herself at her dressing table she loosed her long dark hair, and began to brush it slowly while Honor struggled to fit a painted screen around the tub. Allegra didn't like the tub in her bedchamber. It should really be in the dressing room. She would have it moved there tomorrow.

Her mind was awhirl. The duke was coming to her bedchamber tonight. Had she been too bold with him? It was too late now unless, of course, when he arrived she told him she had changed her mind. Changed her mind about what, she asked herself. She simply wanted to know a little bit more about passion before she was committed to consummating her marriage to Quinton Hunter. Girls were supposed to be courted, but the duke had not courted her at all. An arrangement had been made. No wonder she knew so little.

As she had once told the duke, girls knew more than they let on about men. She had had an older brother. For a moment her eyes grew teary at the thought of James Lucian. No one could have had a better brother than he, Allegra told herself. His death had been so futile, so damned unnecessary, and she hated the French for it. They had wantonly murdered her beautiful sibling because he had refused to leave the girl he loved. He had died with her rather than be parted from her. Love! Faaagh! It was a ridiculous emotion that drove sensible people to madness. Her darling brother. Her mother, who had deserted her children and husband for love. And now her father was behaving like a cow-eyed fool over his new wife. If she hadn't loved her aunt mama it would have all been too unbearable, Allegra considered.

"Ready for bed, miss?" Honor came into her view.

"Are you?" Allegra teased. "I have noticed the looks that the duke's valet, Hawkins, has been giving you, Honor."

Honor colored becomingly. "Ohh, miss!" was all she said.

"Do not allow him to take advantage of you, Honor," her mistress warned. Then Allegra smiled. "Run along. I shall not need you until the morning. I am perfectly capable of getting into bed by myself."

Honor hurried off through the dressing room to her own chamber, shutting the door behind her as she went. Allegra walked across the room to the windows and looked out. The moon was quite full tonight, and silvered the landscape. She could see the dark shadows of the horses in the pasture beyond the lawns. She had known from the first moment that she laid eyes on Hunter's Lair that she was going to be happy here.

She did not turn, but her heart beat a bit faster as she heard the door that connected her bedchamber and the duke's click open. He walked across the floor to stand behind her. "You came," she said softly.

"Am I still welcome, and are you still eager to learn more about what transpires between a man and a woman?" he asked her. His arm slipped about her slim waist, drawing her back against him.

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly, feeling him nuzzle her head.

"Good," he replied. Then his fingers skillfully undid the blue ribbon that held the twin halves of her night garment together. His hand slid beneath the fabric to cup a small perfect breast in his palm. "Exquisite," he said softly.

His breath was hot in her ear, and she felt suddenly weak, as if her legs would not continue to hold her up. "I never…," she began, but she could not continue.

"I know," he said. Then his lips touched the skin where her neck and her shoulder met. The hand holding her breast tightened ever so slightly upon the tender flesh.

"Ohhh," she murmured. My God, this was heaven! She had never imagined that anything could be quite this exciting.

The hand released her, and he turned her about to face him, pushing her nightgown off her shoulders so that it fell first to her waist, and then to the floor below where it puddled about her feet. Allegra was momentarily stunned. She had not expected quite so bold a move.

He stepped back, and his eyes swept over her. Quinton Hunter was utterly bedazzled. She was absolute perfection. Her skin was flawless with not a mark upon its surface to mar it. She was tall for her sex, but her height was in her torso not her legs. Her bosom was in perfect proportion with the rest of her body. "My God!" were all the words he could muster.

Allegra was silent. She had absolutely no idea what she should say in such a situation as this. She had, after all, never stood stark naked before a man.

The duke swallowed hard, at last able to find his voice. "No one should be as beautiful as you are," he told her. "And you have no idea, you wickedly audacious little virgin, of the power you will wield over me one day." He shook his dark head in wonderment, then taking her hand led her to her bed. "Get in," he ordered her.

She complied, and finding her own voice said softly, "I like it when you touch me, Quinton. Do it again."

"No," he said. "This was not a sage idea, Allegra. I had no idea how lovely you were without your clothing. So often a pretty face disappoints. You, my dear, do not. Indeed the whole surpasses the sum of your parts. I am a weak man, and if I remain, you will, I promise you, be well fucked by morning's light. Your virtue is the most precious gift you bring me, Allegra. We will accept it on our wedding night, and not a moment before. And afterward I shall teach you the delights and the joys of lust. Tempt me no further, my dear. Now, go to sleep. You have, to my embarrassment, discovered that like all mortal men, I have an appetite for sweet flesh. The tiny taste you have given me has revealed my fault." He took her hand up, and kissed it. Then he left her alone in the moonlit darkness.

Safe within the precincts of his own bedchamber Quinton Hunter groaned. His member was rock hard, and it ached, unsatisfied. He cursed softly under his breath. What the hell was the matter with him that he had considered such a sortie even if she had asked him? She was spoiled and impetuous. And far too curious. Curiosity wasn't a good trait for a duchess, especially for a Duchess of Sedgwick to have in abundance. And once he opened her to the delights of carnality, could he keep her satisfied, or would her curiosity lead her to take lovers like so many women of their class did once they had provided their husbands with heirs? He groaned again. He would kill any man who looked with interested jaded eyes, or disrespect, upon Allegra. She was his! His, damnit!

And then Quinton Hunter knew in a burst of clarity that he had fallen victim to his family's curse. He was in love. In love with a willful and uninhibited wench who was going to wrap him about her finger even if she didn't know it yet. But know it she would if he showed her the slightest bit of weakness. She was rich and she was stunningly beautiful, but she didn't love him. It was unlikely she ever would. Allegra did not understand love. He knew instinctively that she was afraid of it. She could not know how he felt about her lest she flee him, and he could not bear it if he lost her. He laughed softly to himself. He was in love, but at least unlike his romantic antecedents he had fallen in love with an heiress. Even so, he seemed to have no predilection for gambling as of yet. He laughed again. Perhaps he did, for he was taking the greatest gamble of his life by marrying Allegra Morgan.

Chapter 8

“You should have asked the duchess to be your bridesmaid," Squire Franklyn's wife scolded her daughter on her wedding day. "She is going to be your sister-in-law."

"She isn't the duchess yet," Melinda pertly answered her mother. "And besides, we have only met two or three times. It would have been most presumptuous of me, Mama, to solicit such a favor."

"She might have asked you to serve her in such a capacity," Mistress Franklyn replied.

"No, her cousin, Viscountess Pickford is to be her matron of honor," Melinda said. Thank heavens George had come up to scratch, not that she had ever doubted he would. She could hardly wait to be in her own house tonight, to be quit of her mother. Melinda Franklyn was her parents' youngest child, and at almost nineteen had been in danger of being left on the shelf had not George Hunter's good fortune saved her. She didn't quite know how he had come into possession of his farm, but she really didn't care. They were to be wed this morning, and that was all she wanted to know. By noon she would be Lady Hunter.

The squire's wife had now hurried away to make certain her servants were not slacking off in the wedding breakfast preparations. Tables had been set up outside the house, for the dining room was not large enough. Melinda, foolish girl, had wanted a small intimate family wedding, but Squire Franklyn and his wife would not hear of it. Their youngest girl was marrying very well, and they wanted everyone in the county to know about it. And with the duke and his betrothed to sit at the bridal table, no one had cried off. Squire Franklyn's wife smiled smugly. It would be a triumph, she was quite certain.

At the church George Hunter peeped from the sacristy, and gulped nervously. "They have invited the whole damned world," he complained to his older brother.

The duke laughed. "You cannot blame them, George. You are, after all, a prize catch for pretty Melinda."

"Laugh while you may, my brother, it will be your turn soon enough," George Hunter threatened.

"Ahh, but as Allegra and I have decided not to be married in London, we shall have the wedding we want. The family, and our friends, Georgie, in the Great Hall of the house, and afterward…" He smiled.

"What has happened to you, Quinton?" his brother asked. "These past few days you have seemed different."

"Nothing has happened," the duke quickly replied.

"Quinton, we are brothers. Don't try to outfox me, sir," George Hunter said. "I know you too well. What is it?"

"You are letting your imagination run away with you, youngling. It must be your nerves playing tricks on you as your doom approaches," the duke teased.

"No," George persisted, and then his face grew a look of surprise. "My God! You're in love with Allegra!"

The duke hit his brother a blow that took the wind from him. "If you dare to spout such nonsense, George, Melinda will be a widow before she is a bride. Do you understand me?" He glowered at his younger.

"Uuumph!" George Hunter doubled over briefly, but then he straightened up again. "What the hell is the matter with love?" he wanted to know. "Love is wonderful, Quint."

"Allegra and I have made a sensible and practical marriage of convenience, George, as befits our station. Love has nothing to do with it. If you must know, the mere thought of love is repellent to Allegra, and to me as well, given the examples we have had of it."

"All your friends are in love with their wives, and I absolutely adore Melinda," George Hunter admitted.

"But I am not in love, nor is Allegra, and we are quite content with our situation as it is. Now, stop spouting nonsense. If it were not for Allegra's kindness, love would have gained you nothing. Your beefy father-in-law-to-be was not about to give you his youngest child just because you are Lord George Hunter and in love. He wisely saw his daughter provided with a husband, a home, and a modest income."

" ‘Tis time, my lords," the vicar of St. Cuthbert's said as he hurried into the little room. "If you will follow me, please."

George Hunter had never before thought of Squire Franklyn as beefy, but as her father led Melinda down the aisle of the church, the young Lord Hunter hid a smile, concentrating instead upon his Melinda-a pleasingly plump young lady with chestnut brown curls, and dancing brown eyes. She smiled tremulously at him as he took her hand.

And afterward at the wedding breakfast he could scarcely take his eyes off his new wife. If Quinton wasn't in love he had no idea what he was missing, George decided as he stole another kiss from his bride. And Quinton was a fool not to love Allegra. By day's end his sister-in-law-to-be had the entire district wrapped about her little finger. She was charming and gay, dancing the country dances with verve, refusing no partner. At one point he saw his older brother watching his fiancee. A sly smile touched Lord George Hunter's lips. Whatever he might say, Quint was in love with his betrothed. How the mighty have fallen, he thought, amused. Love was indeed a great leveler. Then he felt sorry for his brother, for it was obvious that Allegra was not in love with Quinton.

"When can we leave?" Melinda whispered to him finally.

"Are you anxious to depart our celebration, Lady Hunter?" He smiled wickedly at her, and she blushed, but shook her head in the affirmative. He took her hand. "I will call for the carriage, sweeting."

After they had gone with much tah-rah, the howls of Mistress Franklyn still echoing as she bid her baby good-bye, the duke turned to Allegra suggesting that they, too, depart, to which she readily agreed.

On the carriage ride home they spoke of how pleasant George and Melinda's wedding had been, although Mistress Franklyn had invited far more people than would be coming to their own wedding.

"She considered my brother quite the catch," the duke remarked.

"Not until he had his own farm and house," Allegra said pithily.

"Are you a cynic then, my dear?" he teased gently.

"No, Quinton, I am a realist," she replied seriously.

"George and Melinda love each other," he said.

"How fortunate for them, but it would have made no difference, indeed it did make no difference to Melinda's parents until George had his own holding. Love has nothing to do with the success of a marriage."

"Your father loves his wife," the duke persisted.

"At their age they are allowed the luxury of love," Allegra answered. "And they began as friends. Each knows the other, and there will be no surprises. Surrounded by lovers I wonder if you are having second thoughts, Quinton. Are you?"

"No," he told her quietly. "Ours is a most practical arrangement, my dear Allegra, and we shall be a most perfect couple."

"Yes," she agreed, and then her eyes strayed to Hunter's Lair which lay ahead of them in the late afternoon sunlight. It was even more beautiful now than when she had first seen it. The lawns were manicured by the great staff of gardeners now in their employ. The gardens had been restored to their former glory, and a delightful little marble summer house had been installed only two weeks ago by the lake. As she exited their vehicle Allegra's gaze swept over the wonderful new entry foyer with its pale yellow walls, decorative plaster moldings, and black-and-white marble floors. It was all so wonderful.

"Is it not perfect?" she said to him, looking around.

"Yes, it is, thanks to you," he told her.

"Honor and I should return to Morgan Court until a few days before the wedding," Allegra said.

"Why?" he asked. He didn't want her to go. He had grown quite used to having her about.

"The house is finished. The workmen will be gone in a week's time. The architect leaves tomorrow. I have no reason to remain," she told him.

"When has the appearance of propriety meant anything to you?" he asked her. "Soon you will be my wife."

"I have matters to resolve at Morgan Court, "Allegra responded.

"Is Rupert Tanner one of those matters?" he demanded, suddenly angry, and openly jealous.

"Rupert? What does he have to do with anything?" Allegra said, genuinely puzzled. "I must look over the wedding gifts that are being sent to us, and arrange to have them transported here. Madame Paul will be coming from London to do the final fitting on my wedding gown and on Sirena's gown. She will be visiting her mama while I am there. We spoke on it at Lord Walworth's wedding. I have little gifts to buy for the servants who have looked after me my entire life. I want to bid them all a proper farewell. And then Papa's secretary and I must list the gifts sent to us, and send thank you notes. I have a great deal to do, Quinton, and I can only do it at Morgan Court. When I have finished, I shall return here before our wedding." She smiled at him. "I should think you would be glad to be rid of me for a few weeks, Quinton. There will be no one to boss you about and complain because the painters could not get the color quite right. You shall have peace and quiet. But only until I return," she finished with a twinkle, and she smiled up at him.

"I shall miss you," he admitted. "I have become used to your presence. I have even grown to like your company."

"Have you? How nice," Allegra replied.

He wanted to strangle her where she stood. Could she not see that he was in love with her? Did she see him at all except as the Duke of Sedgwick? Had she no emotions? No feelings? My God, he thought, I am behaving like my brother, or Ocky. But at least their wives reciprocated their affections. Allegra is as cold as a marble statue. No. When I touched her body she melted like ice in the summer's sun. I can make her love me in spite of herself. If I have fallen in love, then surely she can fall in love, too.

"I shall look forward to your return with much anticipation, my dear," he told her. "And I shall look forward to our wedding day… and night even more."

She had the grace to blush, then said, "Honor and I will depart tomorrow, sir, the sooner to return."

Home at Morgan Court again Allegra was horrified at the number of wedding gifts that had already arrived. "But the wedding is to be held at Hunter's Lair and will be most private," she said to her father's secretary, Charles Trent. "Must we keep them? Or can they be returned, Charles?"

"I fear you must keep them, Miss Allegra, even the ones in questionable taste. Remember that the duke's family is an ancient and revered one. Now that he is to have the power and prestige that being wealthy again will bring him, there are those who will want to keep, or gain his favor. I have listed everything that has arrived so far, along with the names of the donors. The thank you notes are written. You have but to sign your name to each one."

"It is astounding," Allegra said, shaking her head. "Neither the duke nor I intend joining London society. We are both agreed that we prefer the country life. We can be of little influence for anyone."

"Ahh, but who is to know that, Miss Allegra?" Charles Trent said with a small smile. "I'm certain Hunter's Lair has storage rooms where much of this may be put away from the light of day."

"Gracious! What are these?" she demanded, pointing.

Mr. Trent chuckled. "They are from a gentleman nabob who does business with your papa. I believe the elephant with his trunk upraised is a symbol of good fortune, Miss Allegra. The pair are a third life-size, overlaid with gold leaf, and decorated with semiprecious gemstones. Their tusks are genuine ivory. Perhaps if the duke would consider it, they could be installed outside his library doors."

"Never!" Allegra said emphatically. "Our home is both classic and elegant, but certainly not gaudy. What could this man have been thinking?"

"Most likely of impressing your papa with his generosity. It is a most expensive gift," Mr. Trent said dryly. "These nabobs, Miss Allegra, have great wealth, but many are self-made men of little or no background."

Sirena came shortly after Allegra had arrived home. The cousins greeted each other happily. Octavian Baird saluted his wife's relation warmly.

"How did you leave Quint?" he asked her.

"Strangely not happy to be left alone, although I thought he should enjoy a bit of peace and quiet after the uproar of the last few months. The house is finished at last."

"I shall pay him a visit then while Sirena stays with you," Viscount Pickford said.

"Not fair," Sirena cried. "Then you shall get to see the improvements to Hunter's Lair before I do."

"As you have never been to Hunter's Lair, it should make no difference at all," her husband said sensibly. "Enjoy your visit with Allegra and your parents, my darling."

The two young women had been placed back in their girlhood bedchamber. Allegra suddenly found the room old-fashioned after her beautiful and spacious apartment at Hunter's Lair, but she and Sirena were soon gossiping away as if they had never been parted.

"I see what you mean about Mama and Steppapa," Sirena told her cousin. "They are behaving quite like April and May."

"More like September and October," Allegra replied. "I had hoped that after a few months away they would have become more dignified again, but they are worse than ever."

"They are in love," Sirena said softly. "Is it not wonderful that your papa and my mama were able to find love again at their time of life? I am so happy for them."

"You sound like Charlotte," Allegra teased Sirena.

"Ohh, speaking of my sister-in-law," Sirena said, "she is at last with child! Gussie is over the moon and nothing is too good for his darling girl. About time she produced for the line. Why Ocky and I were married in June, and I shall have my baby in March. Charlotte and Gussie have been married forever."

"Tell me about it," Allegra begged her cousin. "What is it like when your husband… makes love to you?"

"Haven't you and the duke…," Sirena began. "Well, I thought with your being at Hunter's Lair all summer you might have Her voice trailed off. "Didn't you even consider it? Not even once? Lord, Allegra, you must be a saint. He is so handsome!"

"Do you think so?" Allegra asked.

"Don't you?" Sirena responded.

"We do kiss," Allegra said.

"And?" Sirena demanded.

"I have let him touch my breasts," Allegra admitted.

"Nothing more?" Sirena was disappointed. "You really are a backward child, I fear, cousin. Why before I met Ocky I had been kissed and cuddled by half a dozen young men." She sighed. "You do know what a manhood looks like, don't you?"

"Of course!" Allegra said. "They are long and thin appendages that dangle between a man's legs, though for the life of me I do not understand how they can enter a woman's belly."

Sirena giggled. "Women have an opening in the secret place," she explained. "That's where they put it."

"How can that be, Sirena? That floppy thing?" Allegra was most disbelieving.

"It doesn't stay floppy, or thin," Sirena told her cousin. "They get hard and thick. It hurts the first time and you'll bleed, but after that…" Sirena's eyes grew dreamy.

"After what?" Allegra demanded impatiently.

"After the first time, it's just wonderful! Sometimes I even think I'm flying among the stars," Sirena admitted. "Of course now with the baby coming we must be very careful, and eventually Ocky and I will not be able to do it, but until then, it's wonderful. Marvelous!"

"But how do you do it?" Allegra wanted to know.

"Oh, the duke will tell you," Sirena said.

"No! You will tell me, Sirena. You cannot leave me in abject ignorance. I need to know what to expect," Allegra said.

"Mama will kill me if she learns I have told you," Sirena fretted.

"I will kill you if you don't. Besides, Aunt Mama will not tell me what I need to know. She will make some pronouncement about yielding myself, despite my delicate sensibilities, to my husband's wishes."

Sirena giggled. "Yes," she agreed, "that is exactly the kind of twaddle she will utter despite the fact that she and your papa have been fucking like rabbits ever since they were wed…"

"Sirena!" Allegra half shrieked.

"Well they have, and you know it," Sirena said. "Why do you think you have been so uncomfortable around them. It is horrifying to think of one's parents behaving with such abandon, although now that I know what fun it is, I cannot say that I blame them."

"Tell me what I have to do," Allegra said.

"You'll be on your back," Sirena said. "The duke will lie atop you. He will want you to open your legs. Wait until he asks else you look like a wanton. Then he will put his manhood into your entry. That's all there is to it."

"There must be more," Allegra determined.

"There is," her cousin agreed, "but that is the part you must find out for yourself because, Ocky says, it is different with each partner. You will be in excellent hands. Ocky says the duke is considered an excellent lover. Men know about these things, as they certainly should."

"Well," Allegra said, "I suppose I must content myself with what you have told me. I hope I do not prove a perfect fool on my wedding night, Sirena. You know how I dislike being ignorant."

"You are a virgin, Allegra," Sirena said, suddenly sounding very wise. "Virgins are supposed to be unschooled and backward. Men like it that way. Ocky never knew, nor will he ever know of the boys I kissed and cuddled with before I came to London." She giggled. "He thinks he was my very first kiss. I hope he never runs into Jeremy Carstairs."

"Best to hope Jeremy Carstairs remains a gentleman," Allegra laughed. "You make yourself sound so worldly-wise, Sirena, but you were as big a virgin then as I am now."

Sirena nodded. "Of course I was," she agreed with a smile. "I love Ocky so much that I could not deceive him that way, and I didn't."

"What is it like to be in love?" Allegra asked her cousin.

"Are you in love with the duke?" came the question.

"I don't know," Allegra said. "I like him except when he becomes pompous; and I actually find that I miss him now that I am back at Morgan's Court. I have never thought I should fall in love, whatever that may be, but I should like to know what it is like. It would seem to me that the emotion called love isn't very practicable, or particularly sensible. I shall not expound my views as you have heard them often enough, but I am still curious."

"Love," Sirena said slowly, "is caring for someone even more than you care for yourself. It is wanting that person happy. It is the ability to give of yourself totally without losing yourself. I don't know if that makes any sense to you, Allegra, but it is the best explanation I can give you."

"I understand, or I think I do, and yet I don't," came the reply. "Perhaps it is better that I remain in ignorance. The duke feels as I do, and does not love me, nor will he ever love me."

"And yet you will marry him," Sirena said sadly.

"He is handsome and charming," Allegra said. "He respects me, and will make an excellent mate, Sirena."

"And you can give yourself body and soul to him without love?" It seemed so cold, and yet she well knew that most marriages among those of their class were made for reasons other than love. She loved Allegra. She wanted her to have the happiness that she now possessed.

"Oh, Sirena," Allegra comforted her cousin. "I am content with everything. Quinton is kind. Hunter's Lair is beautiful. What more is there to life than that?"

"I suppose you are right, Allegra, even if it troubles me," Sirena said, and she gave her cousin a little smile.

"You were ever the romantic, Sirena dearest," Allegra teased.

"And you were ever the sensible one," Sirena replied.

"Madame Paul will be here tomorrow," Allegra said. "Your gown is to be pale blue to match your eyes, and my wedding dress will be white and silver lace. I can hardly wait to see it!"

"You always loved new clothes," Sirena laughed. "I vow you will leave instructions about what to bury yourself in one day."

"I certainly will!" Allegra agreed, and then she laughed, too. "Can you imagine us as old ladies, Sirena? You will still be the romantic, I suspect, and I shall be quite crotchety, waving my cane about."

"What cane?"

"The one with the silver dragon's head I intend having when I am a dowager. It will be polished black ebony with its silver dragon. Perhaps I shall have a whole dragon, and not just its head. Its silver body and tail could curl about my walking stick. I shall wave it at everyone who displeases me."

Sirena laughed harder. "Ohh, Allegra," she said, "you can be so amusing when you choose to be."

"I am quite serious, cousin," came the answer.

"You wouldn't wave that cane at the duke, would you?" she asked, her blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Particularly at the duke," Allegra said. "He can be very aggravating at times. But on the whole he has been quite nice to me."

"All husbands can be difficult on occasion," Sirena said.

"You speak with such authority," Allegra teased her.

"Well I have been married almost four months," Sirena replied.

It was as if they had never been apart. The next few weeks sped by. Madame Paul arrived with her assistant, Mademoiselle Francine, to do the final fittings for the wedding. She clucked with disapproval when she found Allegra had lost almost a full inch in her waistline. She purred with pleasure that Sirena, despite her delicate condition, fit perfectly into her gown.

"Another month, however, chérie," she told Viscountess Pickford, "and it would be another story, I fear."

Three days before the wedding Viscount Pickford arrived with the duke to escort the bride and her family back to Hunter's Lair. Allegra found her heart beating a bit faster at just the sight of Quinton Hunter. Still, they greeted each other with restraint; she curtseying, he bowing and kissing her hand.

"What is the matter with them?" Sirena whispered to her husband.

Octavian Baird smiled mysteriously. "Can't you tell?" he asked her, and when Sirena shook her blond head, puzzled, he continued. "They are in love with each other, but neither will tell the other, or admit to it, my adorable angel."

"Why on earth not?" Sirena squealed, excited.

"Because each fears the other will reject such overtures. Neither has any reason to believe in love, given their family history, but love, as you know, my darling, makes no allowances for such things. Quinton is horrified to find that he actually cares for Allegra. He feels it would be off-putting to tell her of his emotions toward her. He believes she will never reciprocate such feelings, and if there is one thing Quinton Hunter is, it is overproud. To be spurned or dismissed by the girl he loves would be an insult he could never forgive. So he will remain silent, and so, my darling girl, must you."

Sirena nodded. "Yes, I will," she told her husband. "I believe that Allegra likes the duke very much, but I do not think she is in love with him despite what you think. Not yet."

"Do you actually believe she will admit to loving him one day?" her husband asked hopefully. "God, how happy Quint would be if that occurred! He cannot believe what has happened to him, or the delicious turmoil this duchess-to-be of his has caused with his heart."

"She seems to get on with him, and as I have said, she likes him. They have become friends, and friendship is the best basis for a lasting love, Ocky," Sirena said wisely. "Ohh, how I would like it if my cousin really fell in love, and was as happy with her duke as I am with you!" The knowledge that the duke loved her cousin reassured Sirena. Now she was not as fearful of the marriage as she previously had been.

Hunter's Lair welcomed back its mistress. To Allegra's delight everything she had ordered done in her absence had been completed. Her father was well pleased with the renovations to the house, and her stepmother admired the decor, pronouncing it "exquisite." Sirena was delighted with its homey quality.

"I was so afraid it would be one of those huge grand houses that can never quite be a home," she said, "but this is wonderful!"

Lord Morgan took the duke aside. "Mr. Trent has seen to it that a deposit has been made to your account, sir. He will make those deposits quarterly, both for you, and for Allegra."

"Thank you, sir," the duke replied.

"And the architect and workmen have been settled with so you need have no worry on that account," Lord Morgan continued.

"You have been more than generous, my lord," the duke said.

Lord Morgan smiled dryly. "Treat her well, Quinton. I am not a man to marry off his daughter and then be done with her. She is my flesh, and I love her."

"Allegra is a delight, sir," the duke answered. Then he smiled a wry smile. "As well as being willful and stubborn, but I believe that we suit despite it all."

"Yes," Lord Morgan said, "I think this bargain that we have made will turn out quite well for all of us. Give me grandchildren as soon as you can, Quinton. Nothing settles a woman quite like a family of her own to care for and worry over."

The guests began arriving the next day. Lady Bellingham, her good husband in tow, came first. Her jaw fell as she entered the house. "God bless me, I have never seen Hunter's Lair look so fine!" she pronounced. "Have my bags taken up. I must have a tour this moment!" Lord and Lady Walworth came shortly afterward, followed by the Earl and Countess of Aston. The Marquess of Rowley came, but without his wife. Lady Charlotte would not travel in her delicate condition, but Gussie refused to miss his favorite cousin's wedding. Allegra had also asked her father's secretary, Charles Trent, to be their guest.

That evening Allegra received her first inkling of what it was going to be like being the Duchess of Sedgwick as she presided over her twelve guests at the dinner table. It was the first time the new dining room had been used. Its great black marble fireplace blazed with enormous logs that had been set across the silver andirons. The table was set with pristine Irish linen. The silver candelabra glittered with the reflected light of the candles. To Allegra's delight the chandeliers from Waterford had arrived earlier than expected. Two of them now hung over the table, the crystal sparkling with their many candles. Blue and white bowls of flowers from the greenhouse decorated the table. The servants were resplendent in their hunter's green with silver braid livery. Footmen stood behind each guest's chair as the lavish meal was served. Still in all it was a happy gathering of friends, and not quite as formal as it would have been in London.

Afterward when the dessert had been cleared away, the ladies retired to the drawing room next to the ballroom to gossip while the gentlemen were left to their port. The gentlemen would join them shortly, and they would play cards among themselves.

"I am so glad you decided to have your wedding here rather than return to London," Lady Walworth said.

"They should have been wed with pomp and circumstance," her aunt, Lady Bellingham, replied.

"Now, dearest Lady B.," Allegra responded, "Quinton and I love Hunter's Lair. We can think of no more perfect place in which to be married than the Great Hall of this house. Besides, if we had returned to London, Sirena couldn't have been my matron of honor. The trip would have been too much for her. Here she is but an easy drive from her home. All our guests are."

"The king and queen would have come," Lady Bellingham said regretfully.

"They have sent us a beautiful gift," Allegra told her. "Four silver and gilt saltcellars. Would you like to see them? Our gifts have been laid out in the ballroom with their cards. Perkins!" Allegra signaled a footman. "Take Lady Bellingham to the ballroom so she may view the display set up there. You are all welcome to go."

"The rest of you may look another time," Lady Bellingham said. "Stay with Allegra. The gentlemen will be coming soon enough, but if he's in the mood for cards, Bellingham won't notice if I am here or not," she concluded with a chuckle. Then she let the young footman escort her from the little salon.

"She won't be back for an hour at least," Lady Caroline said. "She'll examine each gift, and its card, and have an opinion on it all when she finally returns to us."

"Your aunt terrifies me," Sirena said.

"Oh, you must not be afraid of her. She is really quite softhearted, although she would roast me for saying so," Lady Caroline answered.

"It was she who introduced me to Marcus," Lady Eunice said. "I shall never be able to repay her for that particular kindness."

At that moment the door to the drawing room opened, and the gentlemen came in, greeting their ladies as they did. Three tables of four were already set up for Whist, and two were quickly filled by the guests. The duke did not gamble, as everyone knew, but he did not mind his guests indulging themselves as long as the play did not get too deep. Lady Caroline and Lady Eunice were still more interested in seeing the wedding gifts. Allegra sent them along in the company of a footman.

"If you are comfortable," she said to her guests, "I beg to be excused for a moment. I must make certain that the preparations in the Great Hall are going along well." She curtsied, and hurried from the room. In the Great Hall the servants were busily hanging the green garlands entwined with white silk roses that would decorate the room for the festivities on the morrow. The high-board was set up as it had been in olden times. She looked about, and saw that the chairs had been placed in the Minstrel's Gallery for the musicians.

"The staff is working very hard, Miss Allegra," Mr. Crofts said to her as he came to stand by her side. "It will all look quite fine when 'tis done."

"It does look lovely, doesn't it, Crofts," Allegra said. "Please thank the staff. They have worked very hard. Those who serve at the table tomorrow will receive a silver shilling each so they may celebrate on their next day off. Do not tell them though until afterward."

"Very good, miss," the old butler said with a small smile. The duke was very fortunate in his choice of a wife. They were all very fortunate, he thought to himself.

Allegra returned to the salon. Lady Bellingham, Caroline, and Eunice had returned from the ballroom where the gifts were displayed. They were most admiring of the generosity offered to the duke and Allegra. They could, however, speak of nothing else but the two elephants with their ivory tusks and bejeweled coverings.

"I am going to build a glass conservatory off this salon," Allegra said. "It will be filled with plants, and I believe I can hide the elephants among the foliage. That way I do not insult Papa's nabob. I suppose he thought it was a wonderful gift, but gracious!"

Her companions laughed, and then Sirena said, "I believe the four of us are going to be very good friends. Allegra has said she will hold the duke's annual hunting parties, and so we shall see one another often."

"Do you hunt?" Lady Caroline asked.

"I do not," Allegra said. "I have already told Quinton that I will entertain and feed his parties, but I shall not careen about the countryside with my leg slung over a pommel. When I ride I wear breeches. Besides, I like deer and foxes."

"Thank heavens," Lady Caroline said. "Now I shall have the perfect excuse. I thought I was the only one who hated hunting."

"I don't like it either," Lady Eunice admitted with a delicate shudder.

"Nor I," said Sirena.

"My dearest." Lady Morgan had come up to put an arm about her stepdaughter's waist. "You are being married at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I think it is time for you to retire."

"But should I leave my guests, Aunt Mama?" Allegra wondered.

"They will understand, and, my dearest, we must talk," Lady Morgan said seriously.

Sirena caught Allegra's eye, and she struggled not to laugh. Her friends were endeavoring not to giggle, their pretty mouths twitching. Newly married, they had all had to endure the talk on the night before their weddings. They bid their hostess good night, and watched as she was escorted from the drawing room by her stepmother.

Honor was waiting for her mistress with a hot tub already drawn, but Lady Morgan put up a restraining hand and dismissed the servant for a few moments while she spoke with Allegra.

"My dear," she began, "there are certain duties a wife must perform for her husband. I find them most pleasant, although some women claim not to find them so. Just remember that if it is done with kindness, and possibly love, all will be well."

"Aunt Mama," Allegra said quietly, "let me relieve you of what must surely be an embarrassing moment. I have spoken with my three friends to ascertain the nature of my wifely duties. They have kindly been most forthcoming, and enlightened me. You need go no further, I assure you. I understand what is expected of me, and the notion is not at all unpleasant. Indeed, I am very curious to experience these duties myself," Allegra concluded, her look mischievous.

Lady Morgan gave a gusty sigh of relief. "Bless you, Allegra, for being a sensible girl. I do not care how close a mother and her daughter are, it is a delicate and often awkward moment between them. No girl wants to consider her mother possesses such knowledge, and no mother wants to imagine her child under such circumstances." She laughed, and Allegra laughed with her. "I hardly gave poor Sirena any instructions at all, and would have felt most guilty did I not know how much she and Octavian loved each other. She kept looking at me with those wonderful big blue eyes of hers, and frankly I was most discomfited. I kept seeing her as that adorable little girl with the lovely long curls who played with you at Morgan Court."

Allegra walked over to the sideboard in her salon, and lifting the crystal stopper from a decanter poured two small glasses of sherry. Turning, she handed one of the glasses to her stepmother. "I salute you, madame. You are the best mother any girl could have had even if you are my aunt." She raised her little goblet and drank.

"Ohh, my dear," Lady Morgan said, "and I salute you. My foolish sister lost a wonderful child in you, but I gained another daughter to love and to cherish." She raised her goblet and drank.

Their glasses emptied, the two hugged each other, and then Lady Morgan kissed Allegra on both cheeks. "Good night, my darling girl. Sleep well. I shall see you in the morning." Then she turned, and hurried from the room, but not before Allegra had seen the tears of happiness welling up in her blue eyes.

Thank heavens that was over and done with, Allegra thought to herself. Heaven only knows what Aunt Mama would have told her if she had not weaseled the information out of Sirena. And she had taken any blame from Sirena's shoulders by claiming that all three of her friends had spoken with her on the subject. "Honor," she called as she began to loosen her gown. "She is gone."

Honor hurried from the dressing room. "You could have asked me anything, miss," she told her mistress.

"Anything?" Allegra raised a dark eyebrow.

"Girls in my position grow up faster, miss," the servant replied.

"Honor, you haven't!" Allegra wasn't certain she should be shocked by such a revelation.

"No, I most certainly haven't," Honor quickly answered. "I wouldn't be fit to work in a decent household if I was that kind of loose baggage. I just said we grow up faster when we're servants. We see things. We hear things. We talk among one another, and are far easier among ourselves than the gentry are. We are not bound up by all your manners and rules of polite society, Miss Allegra."

"Oh."

Honor took her mistress's lovely silk gown, and laid it aside. "Now let's get you bathed for you'll not have time in the morning," she said, and then she pinned Allegra's dark curls atop her head.

The bath, smelling of lilacs, was wonderful, and Allegra did not want to hurry, but she knew Honor would be awakening her early. She washed quickly. Her hair had been washed earlier in the day, and so she did not have to bother going to bed with a wet head and risking a chill. She exited her tub into a warmed towel held by her servant. "I shall be a married lady this time tomorrow," she said aloud.

"You're sure you are happy about it?" Honor asked boldly.

"Yes, I am content," Allegra replied softly. "He is a kind man, and he seems reasonable."

"Are you softening toward him then?" Honor queried. Although she was not a great deal older than her mistress, she had been with her since Allegra had left the nursery at age six. At twenty-four she felt eons older than her mistress. Their relationship allowed for such questions occasionally.

"I like him." Allegra took out her pins, and sitting at her dressing table began to brush her hair free of its tangles.

"Ummm," Honor observed, and said no more.

"And what does that mean?" Allegra demanded.

"You can sometimes be slow in coming to a decision, miss," was the answer.

"What decision can I not make?" Allegra demanded.

"Whether you love him or not."

"Love him? Honor, do not be ridiculous! I have told you before I do not love him."

"If you say so, miss," the servant replied. "Now let's get you into bed so you can get some sleep." She tucked the down comforter about her mistress. "Good night, Miss Allegra. It's the last night I'll say that. From tomorrow on it will be Your Grace." Then with a quick smile, Honor left Allegra for the night, closing the dressing room door behind her as she went.

Allegra stared at the canopy above her. Your Grace. Good Lord! The time had come for her to become the Duchess of Sedgwick. It was autumn. Spring and summer had long flown, and tomorrow she was to marry the duke. What an odd thing for Honor to have said. That she couldn't make up her mind if she loved Quinton Hunter, or not. Of course she didn't love him, and he most certainly didn't love her. And even if her feelings toward him were to change, she would certainly not embarrass him by gushing romantic twaddle.

This summer past they had become friends. They both loved Hunter's Lair. They both wanted a simple life with family and children. They were highly fortunate, they both knew, in having no financial worries. But that was all there was to it. Allegra's eyes felt heavy. There really was nothing more to their relationship. Why on earth had Honor said what she had said? Why does she persist so? Did she know something her mistress didn't? Allegra yawned, and her eyes closed. "He doesn't love me, and I don't love him," she said softly. And then she fell asleep.

Chapter 9

Alegra's wedding day did not dawn brightly. The autumn rain fell in sheets outside the house, knocking against the windows. The hall, however, was warm and bright with the light of many candles and the twin fireplaces which blazed, crackling with sparks of golden light as the red flames danced in the downdraft from the wind outdoors. The vicar from St. Luke's, the village church, had come early, riding through the stormy weather to reach Hunter's Lair a full hour before the nine o'clock ceremony was scheduled. His wet clothing was taken from him to be dried while he changed into his cassock and white and gold chasuble. The clergyman was pleased to have been asked to marry the duke and his bride. His stipend for the service would be generous, he had not a doubt, and the duke could have sent for the local bishop instead. The vicar graciously accepted the goblet of wine offered him, and looked about.

Heavy carved gold candlesticks and a jeweled gold crucifix had been placed atop a white linen runner on the highboard to serve as an altar. There were vases of flowers upon stands set around the temporary altar. The air was sweet with the scent of late pink roses, pink and white lilies, and lavender.

At the appointed hour the small group of guests were seated upon narrow backless oak benches that were a part of the hall's original furnishings. The rest of the hall was filled with the servants, and as many of the duke's tenants as could crowd in. They arrived silently, wiping their muddy boots under Mr. Croft's stern eye before they were allowed into their master's house.

Sirena looked lovely in a simple pale blue silk gown with its puffed sleeves and high waist. Her gown was tied with a narrow pink ribbon sash. She carried a small nosegay of pink roses and lavender. There were pink roses in her short curly coiffure, which was now cut in the latest style. Sirena could not keep herself from smiling. She had so wanted to share this day with her beloved cousin, and Allegra, generous of heart, had made it so.

The bride was pale, and to her surprise, nervous. Her voice was soft. It almost trembled as she spoke her vows. She was very embarrassed, and wondered if anyone, particularly the duke, had noticed. It was childish of her to feel any anxiety. While her blood might be nowhere as blue as the duke's, she was fully confident that she would make Quinton Hunter a perfect duchess. This was what she had wanted, and she knew that she looked absolutely beautiful this morning.

Madame Paul had outdone herself. The wedding gown was an exquisite creation of pure white silk into which had been woven tiny silver stars. High waisted, it had a delicate bouffant overskirt of the sheerest silver net. The bodice had a rounded neckline. The little puffed sleeves were decorated with diminutive silver bows. The duke had given his bride a necklace of large pearls from which dangled a blue-white diamond heart and a pair of diamond and pearl earbobs, which Allegra now wore.

Her thick, long, dark hair was fashioned into a smooth, elegant chignon, atop which had been placed a wreath of white roses holding a long filmy veil of silver netting. Allegra stared hard at the heavy band of Irish red-gold and diamonds that the duke had placed upon her finger. The reality of her situation suddenly slammed into her, even as the vicar spoke the final words of the ceremony.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Those whom God has joined together, let no man rend asunder." The cleric paused, then said, "You may kiss the bride, Your Grace."

The duke's hands cupped Allegra's face as her startled gaze met his. He kissed her, and for a brief moment Allegra soared. But then he released her, smiling into the confusion in her eyes, saying, "Shall we see to our guests, Your Grace?"

They turned to receive the good wishes of their family, their friends, and all the others in the hall. The musicians in the Minstrel's Gallery began to play a sprightly tune. The servants hurried forth with the wedding breakfast and the wine as the hall emptied of all but the chosen few. The new Duchess of Sedgwick invited them to take their seats, indicating where each should sit. She and the duke sat in the king and queen's chairs in the center of the highboard facing out into the hall.

Allegra stole a look at her new husband. She had always thought him handsome, but today he seemed even more so in his white brocaded satin suit embroidered with gold. His brother, who had been Quinton's witness, had chosen to wear a sky blue satin suit that matched Sirena's gown. Lord George Hunter now arose from the table to make a toast.

"To my brother, Quinton, who had the good sense to marry the most beautiful, and certainly the most generous girl in all of England. May he and Allegra have many happy years together. God bless!"

"Here! Here!" the other guests agreed, raising their crystal goblets of wine and drinking.

Now the duke arose, and raising his glass, looked directly at his new wife, who blushed. "To Allegra, who has brought happiness to my family and given a new life to Hunter's Lair. I thank her for marrying me." Quinton Hunter drank a sip of wine. Then placing his goblet upon the table he took Allegra's hand up and kissed it.

More toasts were offered during the long meal while poached eggs in a cream and Marsala sauce were presented, along with a small pink country ham that was thinly sliced, and rashers of bacon. There were fresh, warm, and dainty rolls; breads, sweet butter, and plum conserves. There were bowls of oatmeal mixed with heavy cream, cooked apples, and cinnamon sugar. There was beefsteak, tiny lamb chops upon a silver platter, creamed cod, sliced salmon that had been poached in white wine and dill and served upon a bed of watercress and sliced lemons. There was a dish of baked apples with clotted cream, and another dish of stewed pears with nutmeg and sherry. Finally there was a wedding cake with its tiny white spun sugar decorations covering the golden fruited confection. It was early afternoon by the time the entire meal had been concluded.

Outside the rain continued to fall. The servants and the estate workers had their own feast moved from the outdoors to the barns. The wedding party and their guests took the opportunity to visit them during a brief respite in the storm. There the bride and groom were toasted again in honest English ale and cider. They danced several country dances with their humbler guests before returning to the house, where Allegra saw the carriages of her guests already drawn up before the front door of Hunter's Lair. She realized that her friends and family would be leaving shortly as they all wanted to reach their various homes before sunset. Even in the country the roads could be dangerous after dark.

"It was a most beautiful wedding," Sirena said. "Do try to be happy, Allegra."

"I am," the bride insisted.

"You know what I mean," Sirena replied meaningfully.

"We shall leave you alone for a week," the young Countess of Aston said, "but after that you will come and visit us." She kissed Allegra on both cheeks. "Good-bye, darling!" Then Eunice and her husband were gone out the door.

"You must come to London this winter," Lady Bellingham insisted, giving the bride a warm hug. "It has been a most delightful time, dear girl." There were more kisses. Then Lady Bellingham and her quiet husband departed.

"We will see you at Eunice's," Caroline, Lady Walworth, said before she left with her husband in tow.

"George said you were the most beautiful and generous girl in all of England," Melinda Hunter said shyly. Then she grew bolder, continuing, "and I know why, Allegra." Lady Hunter kissed her sister-in-law. "Thank you. Without your kindness and generosity I should not be so happy. I wish you the same joy with the duke as I have had with his brother."

Allegra flushed. "Families are supposed to help one another," she said in reply.

"I echo my wife's thanks," George Hunter said quietly. Then he kissed his brother's bride, and Lord and Lady Hunter were gone.

"What did you do?" Sirena wanted to know.

"Another time, dear heart," Allegra told her softly.

Sirena nodded. "Very well, I shall contain my curiosity." Then with a wave, she and her husband were off.

"Well, my dear," Lord Morgan said, "I shall bid you farewell for now. Be a good wife to your husband." He kissed her on the forehead.

"Yes, Papa," Allegra responded dutifully.

"God bless you, my darling child," Lady Morgan said. Then she departed with her husband. There was nothing left she needed to say to her stepdaughter. It had all, thank goodness, been said.

They stood alone in the round foyer. Allegra wasn't certain what was to happen next. It was much too early to retire, she thought, as the tall clock struck half after two o'clock. The servants were bustling back and forth clearing away the remnants of the wedding feast.

"Would you like to ride?" the duke suddenly asked her.

"In the rain?" Allegra thought her voice sounded rather hollow.

"It is only drizzling right now," he answered.

"Perhaps a game of chess," she suggested.

"Ahh," he agreed. "The very thing."

"I shall have it set up in the family salon," Allegra said. "Perkins," she called to the passing footman. "Set up the game table in the family drawing room, and bring the chess pieces, please."

As the footman hurried off, the duke said to his new wife, "You looked… look," he corrected himself, "very beautiful today, my dear. Every inch a Duchess of Sedgwick, if I may say so."

"You may," she replied, "and if I may return the compliment, sir, you are most handsome in that satin suit."

He actually flushed with her praise, then took her by the hand. "Come along, Allegra. We have not played chess in some weeks, and I am anxious to see if you have improved."

"You are anxious to see if I have gotten any worse," she mocked him with a smile. "Prepare yourself for a drubbing, my lord. I have been playing with Papa these last few days, and he is a brilliant player."

Their family drawing room was decorated in pale blue, buff, and cream color. It held a mixture of old oak furniture and new maple pieces from London. Perkins set up the game table between the two wing chairs by the fireplace. When Allegra had seated herself he handed her the ebony and ivory box banded in silver that held the playing pieces.

She opened the box. "With your permission, sir, I shall take the white pieces, and give you the ebony."

He nodded in agreement, and set up the board so they might begin their play. For several hours the duke and his new duchess vied with each other over the chessboard. They played several games, and were, Quinton Hunter had to admit to himself, equally matched. He won two games and she won two. Outside the storm continued to rage about them. A footman came into the room to make certain the fire was still burning. He trimmed the lamp and candlewicks, even as a fifth game ended in a draw. It had grown dark outside.

"I have set up a supper in the dining room, my lord," Crofts said as he entered the drawing room. The clock on the mantel struck six o'clock.

"Gracious!" Allegra exclaimed. "How the time has flown."

There was capon, ham, and a venison pie on the sideboard in the dining room along with a bowl of green beans, fresh bread, butter, and cheese. When they had eaten all they could, Crofts appeared with a dish of fresh pineapple from the greenhouse and some sugar wafers. Allegra loved the tart-sweet fruit and was almost childlike in her greediness for it.

The duke could not help but smile, but when she had finished he said quietly, "You will want to go upstairs now, my dear. I shall join you in an hour or so." He raised his wine glass and sipped slowly at the fragrant wine.

Allegra paled for a brief moment, but then she arose, curtsied, and without a word walked sedately from the dining room. Her heart had begun to beat furiously. Soon! Soon she was going to know what all the fuss was about. Did she really want to know? Did she have a choice? She was Quinton Hunter's wife, and subject to his will by English law, and by God. She ran lightly up the staircase to her apartment where she found Honor awaiting her with a scented tub.

"Good evening, Your Grace," her servant said with a small smile, and a quick curtsey. "Let me take your things, and get you ready for bed." Honor was behaving as if it were any other night… Swiftly and efficiently, she helped her mistress undress herself, and then helped her into the tub. Allegra had already pinned her hair up as she always did. Then Honor bustled about the apartment putting garments away, or setting them aside to take to the laundress as Allegra washed herself. Finally she helped the new duchess from her tub.

Allegra sat down upon her dressing table bench as Honor dried between each of her toes. "Do you remember," she said, "when I was a little girl how you told me my toes would fall off if I didn't dry between them? I cannot tell you how long I believed you."

"No proper lady would have wet toes," Honor said. "At least that's what me ma always said." She paused a moment then told her young mistress, "I'm leaving a basin of warm water and some cloths by the fire."

"What on earth for?" Allegra asked her maid.

"You'll understand later," Honor said, getting up quickly. "Now, come and get into your night garb, m'lady." She held out a white silk garment that she slipped over Allegra's head, carefully tying a single white ribbon at the neckline. "There, now into bed with you.

Allegra climbed into the large bed, sniffing delightedly at the lavender scent coming from the sheets. Even the large pillows propped up behind her were scented.

Honor curtsied. "Good night, Your Grace," she said, and hurriedly left the bedchamber, closing the door firmly behind her. She had not, Allegra noted, gone to her own room.

The Duchess of Sedgwick lay in her bed watching the play of the firelight on the walls. Outside her heavily draped windows she could hear the roar of the storm with its howling winds and beating rains. It had been a wonderful day, but now she had to face reality, except she wasn't really certain what that reality was. All her guests had been so happy today. Happy for her, for Quinton, especially happy with one another. Sirena loved her Ocky. Caroline and Adrian Walworth seemed radiant. As for Eunice and Marcus, they had scarcely been able to take their eyes off each other. Her father and Aunt Mama four months after their union were still acting like April and May. Why even Lady Bellingham and her husband seemed to evince tart affection for each other.

"But I don't believe in love," Allegra muttered to herself. "These are but aberrations." Neither a man nor a woman can be faithful to their mate except in rare circumstances. And for the one who loves, the pain of betrayal must be horrific. Papa and Aunt Mama, as well as the Bellinghams, are old. Perhaps when one is old, love, true love, enters his life. As for Sirena, Caroline, and Eunice, we will see what happens to them five years from now, she thought to herself. It was better that she and the duke had a more sensible arrangement.

The door connecting their two bedchambers opened, and the duke stepped through. He was wearing a white linen nightshirt which he immediately removed. Then he climbed into bed with her.

"Oh, my!" Allegra gasped.

"Let me take that charming garment off, my dear," he told her, and before she could protest, he swiftly whisked it over her head, and deposited the nightgown by the side of the bed. "There, now we are equals."

Allegra leapt from the bed, snatching up the discarded garment to clutch before her. "I do not think I can do this," she said nervously.

"Do what?" he asked, lying back amid the pillows. Damnation, she was utterly adorable. He had to be patient even though his male member was already evincing interest in her delectable form.

"Con… con… oh, damnit, Quinton, you know what I mean," Allegra almost shouted at him.

"Consummate?" he inquired helpfully.

"Yes! Consummate! I can't do it." Now she was shouting.

"Get back into bed, Allegra. No one is going to do anything to harm you," he told her calmly. "It is natural that a virgin would be frightened of her first experience, but I promise you it will be all right. Come," he held out his hand to her, "you are going to catch an ague."

She was cold. What on earth had made her behave in such a childish manner? "Do we have to… right away?" she asked him.

"Not right away, my dear," he assured her, "but I promise that you will soon want to do it, Allegra." The duke smiled. He knew he loved her. It was unlikely she would ever love him, but that didn't matter right now.

She dropped the nightgown she had been holding, and slowly climbed into the bed with him. Almost at once he enfolded her in his arms. To her mortification she trembled. She couldn't meet his gaze.

The silken softness of her flesh sent a fierce bolt of desire through him. He forced it back. She needed to be taken gently, not with brute force. He ran his fingers across her lips. "You are most kissable, my dear," he told her, and his mouth met hers.

Ohh, God! She could feel the hardness of his masculine body. It was deliciously exciting. His mouth was warm and enticing against hers. She felt herself melting in his embrace. I have the heart of a whore just like my mother, she thought to herself with shock, but she couldn't stop herself from kissing him back. He was her husband, she reasoned. They were supposed to cohabit like this.

Their lips parted. "Look at me, Allegra," he said to her.

"I can't," she whispered back. "I feel shy. I have never before found myself in bed with a naked man."

He laughed softly. "No, I expect you haven't, my dear, but here we are. Husband and wife. And it is our wedding night."

Her violet eyes finally looked into his silvery gray ones. There was something there she didn't understand at all. A look that totally confused her. But at least he was not slavering over her body like some fierce bestial animal.

"Would you like to see what I look like?" he asked her, and before she might refuse he threw back the down coverlet. Then he lay back.

Her curiosity overwhelmed her, and Allegra stared unabashedly at his long lean body. His shoulders and chest were broad, but she had known that, for even clothed she could see he was a big man. He was lightly furred upon his chest. Her eyes followed the delicate line of dark fur as it ran down his flat belly to a thick tangle of dark black curls between his muscled thighs. Allegra swallowed hard, but she was unable to turn away from her first sight of his manhood. "My brother was not so big," she remarked frankly. "I used to spy when he and his friends compared themselves."

"Ahh," he said, his unspoken question answered.

"Your feet are big," she noted.

"Yes," he answered her.

"But not wide. And your arms and legs are hairy. James Lucian was not hairy at all as I remember it," Allegra told her husband.

"Each man has slight differences," he advised her, "even as women do."

"I suppose you would like to see me," Allegra responded, and threw back the coverlet on her side of the bed. "I hope I compare favorably with the other women you have known, Quinton."

"Very favorably," he assured her. Then he bent down, and licked at her nipple.

"Oh my!" she said again. His touch was thrilling. His dark head against her milky flesh intoxicating. Unable to help herself she reached out with a hand and touched his head, threading her fingers lightly through the black hair. "Ohhhh!" His mouth had closed over the nipple, and he suckled upon her.

"Ohhhh good, or ohhhh bad?" he asked amused, raising his head, and piercing her with his silvery gaze.

"Good," she whispered, blushing, barely able to look at him.

"You are being very brave, Allegra," he told her with a chuckle.

"You are being very kind, I think," she replied.

"You have lovely breasts, my dear. They are like small round peaches, summer-ripe and bursting with sweetness. I will want to continue to adore them, Allegra. Will you let me?"

"Yes," she said. "I like your touch."

"There will come a moment when I become overwhelmed with your loveliness, and shall not ask your permission further, my dear. You must not be fearful, however, for I shall not harm you," the duke told her.

"Will you put your manhood inside of me?" she asked him.

"Yes."

"Will it hurt? Sirena said it hurts the first time," Allegra confided in him, although her cheeks were now fiery hot.

"Yes," he answered her. "It will hurt the first time, but how much depends on how tightly your virginity is lodged, my dear. I will be as gentle as I can be, I promise."

Allegra swallowed hard. "Very well then, sir, let us soldier on now. I should be rid of this troublesome virginity so you may have your pleasure of me. I am told men enjoy this fucking very much."

Now it was Quinton Hunter who swallowed hard. Actually he wanted to laugh. Most young women, he assumed, would have been reticent to speak, would have been shyly reluctant, and maybe even frightened on their wedding night. Allegra had passed through those stages quite quickly. He didn't think he had ever heard a proper lady use the term fucking. Nor mention in an offhanded manner that she had heard men enjoyed it. "They do," he agreed, "but women also enjoy fucking as well, my dear. They can be as enthusiastic as any gentleman," the duke assured his new wife.

"Indeed?" Allegra remarked. "Well, sir, then let us get to it, shall we. Is your manhood serviceable?"

Now he could not help himself, and he did burst out laughing. "Allegra, Allegra! Your innocence is charming, but passion is not something one can force to one's will. We began nicely, but your questions have turned the mood between us. Can you, my dear, be quiet now, and let me lead you down Eros's path to pleasure? I find that I most surely do want to make love to you." He tipped her face up, and kissed her cherry lips, gently at first, and then with a little more passion, as he pushed her back against their pillows. "You are a most talkative little puss, my dear, but the time for talking has now come to an end. Would you agree with me on that?" He kissed the tip of her nose softly.

"But… but," she protested faintly, "I have questions, sir."

"Which shall all be answered, my dear, in due time, I promise you," Quinton Hunter told his wife. He kissed her ear, licking at it very provocatively, and then blowing softly into it. "I love the taste of your skin, Allegra," he told her, his lips wandering down her neck, and across her shoulder.

"But what should I do?" she pleaded.

"Nothing, my dear, but be quiet and still, follow your own instincts, and let me make love to you. No one has ever touched you before tonight, Allegra. I know that. No man shall ever have you but me." His voice had suddenly become very harsh. "You are mine, my dear!"

His words sent a shiver of excitement through her. She shuddered as his tongue licked at the straining column of her throat. He scattered kisses across her breasts. She could feel her bosom. It was tight, and the nipples were beginning to ache, but it was not a hurtful sensation. It actually felt good. He was restraining one of her hands by her side with his own, but her other hand began to caress his lean form in return. She stroked him slowly, reaching farther and farther until she was fondling the curve of his buttock and hip. Allegra hadn't known she could be so bold. She pulled her hand back to trail her fingers across the nape of his neck.

Her exploration, shy as it was, aroused him. Slowly, slowly, he drew her beneath him. Now he lay atop her, and he began once again to kiss her with slow, fiery kisses. Her body was soft, yet firm with her youth. He drew both of her hands up now, positioning them over her dark head. His tongue pushed itself into her mouth, stroking, fencing with hers. His excitement was rising with each passing moment. His manhood was now rock hard, pressing with urgency against her thigh.

"Open your legs for me, Allegra," he murmured softly in her ear. "I want you, my dear. I want you very, very much."

She trembled at his passionate words. The time had come for her to be initiated into the mysteries of Venus and Eros. Slowly, slowly she spread herself beneath him. Her heart was hammering, and she was unable at last to speak. She trembled again as he knelt between her thighs. His hand reached out to cup her entire Venus mont within his big palm, squeezing. Allegra drew a sharp breath at his touch there. She didn't dare to look at what he was doing.

He watched her and smiled to himself as he released her plump mont. She awaited her deflowering with a certain amount of trepidation, he realized, but he needed a moment more. Slowly he pulled her nether lips open, gazing upon her lovebud, all coral and wet with her excitement. She was almost perfect, he thought, and he very much wanted to love her in that special way, but tonight was not the time for such an introduction, he decided. Holding her open with a thumb and a forefinger he touched her lovebud with the tip of his finger, and rubbed it suggestively. Allegra murmured a little cry, and shivered. Her love juices were beginning to pearl against her flesh. He groaned low. "You are so beautiful, Allegra," he murmured to her, smiling again as even with her eyes closed she blushed furiously.

Leaning forward he kissed her, positioning himself for the tender onslaught he was about to make on her innocence. She felt the tip of his lance pressing against her most intimate place. It pushed through her slowly yielding flesh until it was just lodged within her body. He kissed her again, slowly, tenderly, then his mouth fused against hers in a fierce kiss as he thrust hard and deep within her.

Pain radiated throughout her lower extremities. Her legs felt wooden; her belly as though a hot poker had been jammed into it. She tore her head from his, and cried out, tears beginning to flow from her eyes. She couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. And then as suddenly and as violently as the hurt had come, it faded away to a dull ache that eased more and more with each strong stroke of his manhood.

He released her hands, whispering, "Put your arms about me, Allegra."

She drew him close. Something was happening to her. The pain was now entirely gone. A delicious euphoria was beginning to fill her body. She moaned softly, her hips instinctively pushing back at him with each downward stroke. "Ohhh yes!" she cried, unable to remain silent any longer. "Ohhhh!"

He smiled down at her although with her eyes still closed she didn't see him. The little minx was enjoying herself! She had easily discovered the delightful pleasure of shared lust. He thrust farther, and deeper into her. Of course a virgin was unlikely to reach passion's peak her first time, but she had not been repelled by their consummation. He was near his own nirvana when to his surprise her body stiffened, and he felt the quivers of complete fulfillment radiating throughout her body. Unable to control his own desires any further he exploded into her eager young body.

Allegra was suddenly soaring. She had never known such pleasure as was now racing through her. It was uncontrollable. It was wonderful. Golden stars burst like fireworks behind her eyes, and drifted into her conscious. Did this happen to everyone? She was going to have to ask Quinton, because if this happened to everybody, no wonder Papa and Aunt Mama were now so happy. "Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhh!" she gasped, and then she felt herself falling into a warm and gentle darkness.

As she slowly came to herself again Allegra felt the duke stroking her long hair. "There, my dear," he said softly, "the worst is over, and I do believe you have obtained a certain pleasure from me as I have obtained it from you." He dropped a kiss upon her head.

Opening her eyes she turned to look into his face. "Oh, yes, Quinton," she agreed. "I have had my pleasure of you indeed. Why do women not speak on such wonders?"

"Did your cousin not say anything of the delights of passion to you?" he asked her quietly.

"She said that making love was wonderful, but when I pressed her further she then told me I should have to find out for myself, and I surely have, Quinton." She snuggled against him. "Is it done more than once each night?"

"It can be," he said, struggling against laughter again.

"Will we?" Her tone was distinctly hopeful.

"Not tonight," he replied, and kissed her pretty lips.

"Why not?" she demanded, her violet eyes growing stormy. "I liked it, Quinton. I liked fucking very much!"

"I could certainly see that, Allegra," he told her, "but it was your first experience with the sport, and you will be tender. I promise you that we will most definitely make love again tomorrow, and tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that. You are quite delectable, and I believe I have gained quite a bargain in you."

"Ohhh, you are a beast," she cried, and punched at his shoulder with her small fist. "Am I a purchase to you then?"

He laughed. "You are my beautiful and delicious young wife, Allegra," he said as he slid from his place in her bed. Picking up his nightshirt he drew it over his dark head. Then bending he kissed her once more, tweaking her right nipple playfully as he did. "Good night, my dear. I will see you in the morning."

"Quinton! Would you leave me then?" she cried.

"I sleep in my own bed, Allegra," he told her. Then he was gone through the connecting door that separated their bedchambers.

If he loved me, or I loved him, she thought, he would have remained with me. I'll bet Ocky doesn't leave Sirena's side at night. Still her solitude gave Allegra time to ponder on what had just happened between them. He had been so gentle and thoughtful of her. If I believed in love, she considered-but of course, I don't-I believe I could love this man. I think I am, however, gaining a small affection for him. I really should if we are going to have children together. His seed is in me now. Perhaps I am already with child. I am, one day, going to be the mother of the next Duke of Sedgwick. My son. My son, the duke. And then she fell asleep.

Next door the duke lay in his cold bed. It had been so difficult to leave her, but couples slept apart. It was expected. Of course having grown up with no memory of a mother in the household Allegra wouldn't know that. But he hadn't wanted to leave her. She had been so warm and passionate. After she had been so sensible and practical. What would she say if she knew he loved her? Would she be horrified? He dared not tell her until he could be certain that she would return his love, or at least not mock it. He slept at last.

Honor brought her mistress her breakfast in bed, noting the unused basin by the fire. She would, the maidservant decided, tell her ladyship about its use later. She also noted that Allegra was naked in her bed, her night garment thrown carelessly aside. And her mistress was sleepy yet, poor thing. All the excitement leading up to the wedding, and then last night to contend with, Honor thought. Still, her ladyship didn't look unhappy. "Good morning, Your Grace," she said.

"I'm going to remain in bed this morning," Allegra announced, slipping into her nightgown.

"Very good, your ladyship," Honor answered. Then she hurried to the new mahogany chest, and took out a delicate lace shawl which she draped about her young mistress's shoulders.

"Is the duke up yet?" Allegra asked as she bit into a piece of toasted bread. She was still tired, but she was also hungry.

"Up and out riding. Crofts said he was whistling when he went out the door," Honor giggled. "Crofts said he seemed a happy man."

"Oh," was the only reply the maidservant received.

In midmorning Crofts opened the door to Hunter's Lair to be faced with elegantly attired gentlemen. "Good day, sirs," he said, and bowed slightly from the waist.

"We have come to see the duke," the taller of the two gentlemen said. "Tell him Prinny and Brummell are here."

Crofts gaped openly. He looked at the two gentlemen again, and then he recognized the blond, blue-eyed gentleman with the rosy complexion from a drawing he had seen in the London paper. He bowed again. This time lower as he looked at the prince. Carefully he addressed the royal gentleman. "His lordship is out riding, but I shall send for him immediately. If you will come into the drawing room I shall see you are served wine."

"Much rather have a good breakfast," the prince said peevishly. "Damned inn we overnighted in was a pigsty. Was frightened to death to touch a morsel lest it kill me."

The taller Brummell smiled amused. "His Highness is quite hungry, having not eaten since luncheon yesterday," he explained calmly to Crofts.

"Perkins!" Crofts almost shouted to the footman. "Go to the kitchens, and tell cook a full breakfast for His Highness, Prince George, and his guest. Immediately!" Then he turned back to Prinny and his companion. "Let me show you to the dining room, gentlemen."

In the kitchens Perkins had created an uproar with his request from Mr. Crofts.

"Prince George?" the cook said. "Our prince? What in the name of all that is holy is the prince doing here?"

"The gentry don't tell me their business, cook, but I heard the other fellow say the prince ain't eaten since yesterday noon."

The cook blanched, but then she recovered, and began to issue orders. In an amazingly short time the servants were hurrying into the dining room with platters of lamb chops, beefsteak, fresh bread, cheese, butter, poached eggs in heavy cream and dill, a platter with slices of pink salmon and lemon wedges, and a small ham. The cook was pleased to learn the prince smiled broadly and had dug into her hastily arranged feast with gusto.

When Crofts was certain that the royal guest and his companion were well taken care of, he sent another footman for the duke. Then he hurried upstairs to inform his mistress of the unexpected arrival. He knocked on the duchess's apartment door, to be admitted by Honor.

"Yes, Mr. Crofts, what is it?" the maidservant asked.

"Unexpected guests, Honor. Very important guests. I must see her ladyship."

"I'll have to awaken her," Honor said. "Please wait." She disappeared into Allegra's bedchamber, reappearing a few moments later. "Come in, Mr. Crofts," she beckoned the majordomo.

Slowly the elderly man entered the duchess's private chamber. She was seated in her bed, looking rather sleepy. He bowed.

"What is it, Mr. Crofts?" she asked him.

"The prince, Your Grace. Prince George, and a Mr. Brummell are here. Downstairs. In the dining room. Having breakfast," Crofts managed to get out. "I have sent for the duke."

"Good lord!" Allegra said, astounded. What was she to do?

"If your ladyship could come down," Crofts suggested. "I don't know how long it will take the duke to return to the house."

"To arrive so unexpectedly and without warning," Allegra said almost to herself.

"They should be well occupied for the next hour with cook's breakfast," Crofts offered.

Allegra nodded. "I will be down shortly," she said. She flung back the coverlet, and jumped from the bed. "Honor! What am I to wear?" Then she saw the elderly majordomo averting his eyes as he backed from her bedchamber. Allegra chuckled. "Gracious, Crofts, you are older than my papa, and have surely seen your good wife in her night attire many times." She padded hurriedly across the room, unconcerned.

"Indeed, Your Grace, I have," Crofts said as he scuttled from the room, his withered cheeks flushed, closing the door behind him.

"You must gain more dignity, your ladyship," Honor scolded her mistress.

"What on earth can Prinny and Brummell be doing here?" Allegra wondered aloud, ignoring Honor's suggestion. "Neither of them paid a great deal of attention to me in London except when I once danced with the prince. Brummell never, I will vow it, spoke a word to me when we passed. He did nod though. What am I to wear?"

"Simple, day-after-the-wedding-like," Honor said, and drew out a rosebud sprigged white silk gown with a round, scooped neckline, and puffed sleeves. "This should do it."

"I need to bathe," Allegra protested.

"A birdbath will do, your ladyship," Honor said. "I've reheated the basin I left for you by the fire last night."

"Oh, I forgot all about it," Allegra said. "What was it for?"

"A lady should always wash her private parts after making love with her husband," Honor said bluntly. "Now, go and give yourself a quick sponge while I get your stockings and slippers."

There was blood on her thighs! She stared, horrified, and then she recalled that Sirena had said there would be. And on the bed linens as well. She blushed. Such an intimate fact, and it would be known soon enough by the whole household. Well, Allegra thought, at least her virtue would never be in doubt. She carefully washed herself, noting as she did that she was indeed tender. And Quinton had been so considerate.

As she dressed she wondered why on earth the prince and his friend would come to Hunter's Lair the day after their wedding. It was indelicate to say the least, but then princes did what they wanted, and devil take the hindmost. She sat quietly in her petticoat while Honor dressed her hair in its chignon. She selected her wedding necklace and earbobs to wear, and put on her dress. Slipping her feet into her slippers she said, "I am ready, Honor." Then she left her apartment, going down the stairs and into her dining room where the prince was just finishing his repast. Allegra curtsied. "Welcome to Hunter's Lair, Your Highness," she said.

Chapter 10

“My dear Miss Morgan," Prinny said as he arose from the table, smiling. Then he kissed her hand. "We have come for the wedding," he announced.

"The wedding?" Allegra was somewhat taken aback, but there was no help for it. "The wedding, Your Highness, was yesterday," she replied truthfully.

"Yesterday?" The prince looked quite astounded and then aggrieved.

George BrummeH's face looked as if he was struggling to hold back his laughter.

"Yesterday, Your Highness," Allegra confirmed. "If you had but informed us you were coming…" Her voice trailed off helplessly.

"When word came that you had decided to marry here and not in London," the prince began, sitting heavily in his chair, "I thought that young Brummell and I would come to surprise you with our presence. I did not think that you would be wed so early in October." There was a faintly reproachful tone to his voice, as if she had done something wrong.

"I am sure that Her Grace did not mean to disappoint," George Brummell quickly interjected. He was a slender gentleman with an elegant nose, beautifully coifed dark hair, and blue eyes that were always alert.

"No, no, of course not," Allegra said quickly. "If you had but sent us notice, Your Highness, we would have waited. What a great honor it would have been for us all to have you at our wedding."

Prinny, however, looked very disappointed. As if he were a child who had expected some wonderful treat that had failed to materialize.

"But I am so delighted, Your Highness," Allegra continued, "that you have honored us with a visit. You will remain, of course. My husband has a hunting party each October. The other guests will be arriving in a few days. They will be thrilled to learn Your Highness and his companion, Mr. Brummell, are here."

"But if you were wed yesterday, won't you be going on a wedding trip, Your Grace?" the prince asked.

"Gracious, no, Your Highness. We plan a trip next spring, perhaps to Italy. Quinton has spoken to me of a city called Venice." She smiled at the prince. "Can you imagine a city where the streets are water?" she laughed. "I must see it to believe it."

"Well, it will not be soon, Your Grace," the prince told her. "That rascal Corsican, name of Napoleon, is on the march in Italy, and believe me, Venice is threatened. The whole damned Venetian empire is."

"Oh dear," Allegra said, disappointed.

"You'll have to take an old-fashioned wedding trip to Devon, or to the lakes," Prinny said with a sympathetic smile.

Brummell saw the look of disappointment on Allegra's face. "Do not be sad, Your Grace," he told her, "that Froggie rogue will soon be marched to Madame la Guillotine. His own peers can't abide him, and when the Bourbon king is restored, he'll have no friends at all at that court."

"And then may I see the city of water?" Allegra said.

"Indeed, madame, you surely will," Brummell agreed.

"Your Highness!" Quinton Hunter strode into the room. "Welcome to Hunter's Lair. You honor us." He swept the prince a bow, nodding at George Brummell in greeting.

"We came for the wedding," the prince repeated, "only to learn from your charming bride that it was celebrated yesterday. Should have been here but for the wretched weather. Roads were so muddy and foul we had to stop our journey. Stayed at a dreadful place called The Royal George, and by Jove, I'll have the name of the place changed, I will! Food wasn't fit for pigs, and the beds were flea-bitten."

"I have asked the prince to remain for your hunting party," Allegra told her startled husband. "It seemed the hospitable thing to do, my lord, with our guests arriving in just a few days' time."

George Brummell saw the surprised look that appeared, and was as quickly gone from the duke's face. Why there is no hunting party planned at all, he thought, amused at the clever temerity of the young Duchess of Sedgwick. But there would be. And in very short order, too, he expected. Brummell restrained a chuckle. He hadn't paid a great deal of attention to Allegra Morgan last season, but now he realized his mistake. The young woman was no foolish creature. She was intelligent; she was quick; and he admired her audacity. Their visit was going to prove very amusing.

"Who is included in this hunting party, Your Grace?" he asked wickedly, his blue eyes dancing mischievously.

Allegra easily saw that he was on to her, but certainly the prince wasn't. His Highness was as dense as pudding. "It's a small party, just my husband and his three closest friends. They have hunted together for years at this time every autumn, Mr. Brummell. Lord Walworth, the Earl of Aston, and Viscount Pickford. It is very intimate, you understand, and now that these four gentlemen are wed, the party shall be even merrier," Allegra said sweetly. Then she turned to the prince. "I hope that Your Highness will not be bored. Now that you are here, I shall invite the widowed Lady Perry and her sister, Lady Johnstone. That way we shall be even at dinner." She smiled brightly at them.

"Excellent! Excellent!" the prince agreed.

"Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I will go and have two of our guest chambers readied for you and Mr. Brummell, Your Highness," Allegra said. She curtsied, and moved serenely from the dining room.

"By Jove, Quinton," the prince pronounced, "that's a fine girl you've married! Going to make you an excellent duchess, even if she ain't of the first order bloodwise. It don't hurt to improve the stock with something less than a thoroughbred young mare now and again."

"Thank you, Your Highness," the duke replied, bowing, and feeling just the faintest prick of irritation over the prince's remarks. I am so damned proud of Allegra, he thought. What instincts she had! She had greeted their unexpected royal guest, fed him, and turned his disappointment into pleasure. And he had not a doubt that this hunting party was going to come off without a hitch.

Crofts was awaiting his mistress outside of the dining room doors. "I have had the Lake Suite prepared for His Highness and the Blue Bedroom for Mr. Brummell, your ladyship."

"Excellent," Allegra replied. "In one hour, Crofts, I shall want a footman to take my letters to the stables. Send one groom, mounted, for each letter, and they are to await the reply. We are having a hunting party in two days. As far as the prince and his companion are concerned, this event has been planned for some time."

"Very good, your ladyship," Crofts said, hiding a smile. He had served two previous Duchesses of Sedgwick, and this third was more than their equal.

"I will be in my drawing room. Send Honor to me with my writing case," she further instructed him.

"At once, your ladyship," he replied, bowing, and hurried away.

As soon as she had her lap desk, Allegra hastily penned notes to Sirena, Eunice, and Caroline explaining that the prince had arrived without warning, and she had invited him to remain for a hunting party. They must come in two days' time. She then wrote a note to Lady Perry apologizing for her last minute invitation, and requesting that the lovely widow and her sister join them. Sealing her missives with red wax and impressing her seal ring in the wax, she rang for the footman.

"Has Crofts given you your instructions?" she asked the footman.

"One groom for each letter, and await the reply," Perkins said. "Is that correct, your ladyship?"

"Go along then," Allegra said nodding.

The next two days were spent in preparations, but those arrangements were made with the utmost discretion so as not to arouse the suspicions of their guests. The prince and the duke spent the day out-of-doors riding and hunting waterfowl. Mr. Brummell, however, begged off. They ate great breakfasts and suppers. The evenings were spent playing Whist for no stakes as Prinny well understood the duke's aversion to gambling, although he was unable to refrain from one small complaint.

"Seems to me a man so plump in the pockets shouldn't be so stingy, Sedgwick," he grumbled. "Especially when he's winning."

"But if we were playing for real stakes, Your Highness," Allegra remarked, "you should owe my husband both Devon and Cornwall by now. Quinton is but saving your kingdom for you."

Brummell burst out laughing. "A clever sally, your ladyship," he said. "I hope you will come to London this winter."

"It is unlikely, Mr. Brummell. We are country folk, and happy to be so," Allegra said to him.

"Nonsense!" Prinny answered her. "I command you to come, Duchess. Can't ever have enough beautiful young women about me, I fear. You will be a triumph, I vow."

"How flattering you are, Your Highness, but remember I have a duty to fill my husband's nursery even as your wife is now doing. I must attend to that before I come back to London," Allegra told him.

"Prettily put, Duchess, but unless you are breeding, I will expect to see you dancing at Almack's," Prinny replied. "God bless me! I believe I have won this hand, gentlemen."

Quinton had not come to Allegra's bed the second night of their marriage, but she had been far too busy with all her preparations to notice his absence. Now on the third night she lay quietly, unable to sleep, and wondering why he was not by her side, when the door to their rooms opened and the duke entered the bedchamber, climbing into the bed next to her.

"My lord, I had begun to believe you had forgotten you had a wife," Allegra said frostily. But secretly she was delighted to see him. "Our guests will be arriving tomorrow. We will have no time for each other, I fear."

He pulled her into his arms, giving her a long, slow kiss that set her pulses racing and her toes tingling.

"I could hardly forget you, Allegra," he told her when he had thoroughly kissed her, leaving her breathless and slightly dizzy. "And this is not my idea of a perfect first week of marriage. Damn me, my dear, if we shouldn't have taken a wedding trip after all."

"It would have been fine," Allegra replied, "if Prinny hadn't got it into his head to come to Hunter's Lair for our wedding, and then arrived after the fact. Why isn't he at home with his wife? She is expecting a baby after all."

"He despises Princess Caroline. If the truth be known the princess is gauche, rough-spoken, and not given to bathing as frequently as she might. You know how fastidious Prinny is, my dear. I went to the wedding in April. The prince was drunk to the point of collapse. The king had to run after him when he wandered away from the altar during the ceremony."

"How sad for his wife," Allegra said softly.

"Why sad?" the duke probed. "Their marriage, like ours, was a sensible and practical matter, Allegra."

"They might not be in love, Quinton, even as we are not in love, but you are kind to me. I do not believe if I were carrying your child that you would leave me to wander about visiting your friends and acquaintances," she responded. "You would not desert me."

"No, my dear, I would not," he agreed softly. He lay her back against her pillows, smiling. "Dare I hope that you missed me last night here in your bed? I know that I missed being with you."

"Did you, sir? Then, pray, what kept you from me?" she demanded.

"Our guest and his passion for Whist, I fear," was his answer. "It was quite late when Prinny decided he would go to bed. Mr. Brummell is far more sensitive to our newly married state despite his youth and bachelor status. He attempted several times to coax Prinny from the card table, but to no avail."

"You are here now," she said in a tone he would have sworn was seductive.

"Madame, are you flirting with me?" he teased, and chuckled when she blushed. There was still so much innocence about her. He reached out, and pulled the ribbons of her night garment open. A single finger flicked each side apart. "Are you suggesting, madame, that I make love to you?" He looked directly at her.

"Yes," she replied eagerly, taking his breath away when she drew his head down, and brushed her lips across his mouth.

He needed no further encouragement. Burying his face between her two little breasts he began to kiss her most passionately. "You are delicious, Allegra! I want to devour you, my dear. I shall devour you." His mouth fastened over a pert nipple, and he suckled upon her flesh. His head was spinning. His heart was hammering with his excitement. How could he have been so blind about love?

Allegra sighed happily as his mouth and his hands began to roam over her warm flesh. What was happening to her? You are falling in love, the little voice whispered in her head. "No!" she cried aloud.

"What is it, my darling?" the duke said, raising his head from her breasts. "Are you all right? Do you want me to cease?"

"No, no," she said. "Don't stop, Quinton." Why had he called her darling? "Oh, yess!" she murmured as his lips moved down her shapely torso. "Ohh, that is nice, husband," she told him as he licked at her belly. "Ohh, I want to do it!"

"Do what?" He had stopped in his worship of her body.

"I want to make love to you. Wives can do it, can't they?" she asked. "I don't want to be some passive lump of dough. I want to learn to make love, too, Quinton. Can I? Will you show me how?"

Sitting up, the duke yanked his nightshirt off and threw it by the bed. "You have but to do what I do to you. And yes, wives can make love to their husbands in return, Allegra. I am flattered that you want to make love to me."

"You give me pleasure, my lord. We are friends now, and I would give you pleasure in return."

He lay back. "Then do so, madame," he told her.

Matching him, Allegra pulled off her own nightgarb. Then she sat cross-legged at his side studying him for several long and silent moments. Finally she reached out with her hand and touched the hair upon his broad chest. "It's soft," she noted aloud, her fingers ruffling across it. Then she traced the narrow line down his flat belly curiously. She wanted a better view of him, and so to his surprise Allegra climbed atop him, plunking her bottom upon his thighs. Reaching out she ran the palms of her hands over his long hard torso. Her fingers teased at his male nipples. Leaning forward she brushed them with her own nipples.

He drew his breath in sharply, unable to help himself, amazed by her boldness.

"Did you like that?" she asked curiously.

"Your touch is arousing," he admitted honestly.

"You have a beautiful body, Quinton," she told him. "I saw pictures of ancient statues in books in Papa's library. That is how I may make my comparison."

"I would not have thought otherwise, my dear," he responded gallantly. His male member was absolutely throbbing, imprisoned between his thighs beneath her round buttocks. He wanted to roll her over and plunge himself into her sweetness.

"What is the matter?" she asked him, seeing the look in his silvery gray eyes that she didn't understand.

"Climb off me, you little bluestocking, and I will show you," he said, half laughing.

Allegra obeyed. Then she gasped at the sight of his risen manhood, which thrust from between his muscular thighs. It was the first really good look she had had of it, and Allegra could scarce take her eyes off of it. Tall, blue-veined, and hard, it bobbed before her eyes. She was mesmerized by the sight.

Quinton Hunter lay his bride back amid her pillows once again. Mounting her, he pushed gently into her love sheath with a single smooth motion. She was very wet and hot. "Do you understand the power you can exert over me, Allegra?' he asked her softly as he bent and kissed her lips lightly. Then he began to move upon her, slowly at first, and finally with quick, hard strokes of his lance that sent her senses reeling with mindless pleasure. Allegra cried out, unable to restrain herself.

"Ohhh, it is so wonderful! Do not stop, Quinton! Do not stop!" Then with some silent, ancient instinct guiding her she wrapped her legs about him allowing him even deeper passage within her eager body.

Her unexpected action rendered him hot with new lust, and he drove himself deeper and deeper into her until he could hear his heart thundering in his ears. Her body was shuddering with their fulfillment, which once again, as on that first night, they shared together.

"Ahh, Allegra, I cannot help myself, but I adore you!" he cried out. "Do not hate me for it, my darling! I want you to love me even as I love you." He caught her face between his hands, and began to kiss her with a desperate passion.

She hadn't heard him say he loved her. Had she? She was so fuzzy and replete with her satisfaction. "We don't believe in love," she murmured almost to herself. "Love hurts."

"It doesn't have to, my darling," the duke said. "Ohh, Allegra, open your eyes and look at me."

Slowly the heavy, thick, dark lashes lifted themselves from her pale cheeks. Her violet eyes stared directly into his.

"I love you," he said quietly. "I know we meant this marriage to be a logical and judicious match without the encumbrance of foolish emotions, but I find I am, alas, like my romantic antecedents. I have fallen in love. Can you forgive me? Can I one day teach you to love me, my darling Allegra?"

"Oh, Quinton," she said weakly. "I do not know what to say to you. If I am honest with you, and I must be, I have to admit to feeling some emotion I cannot comprehend with regard to you. But is it love? I do not know. I have never been in love, and the love I feel for Papa, Aunt Mama, and Sirena is, I know, an altogether different thing. You really love me? Why?"

Rolling onto his back the Duke of Sedgwick thought a moment. "I really don't understand it myself, Allegra," he admitted. "But I know that I love you. Those few weeks you were away from me I could not bear your absence. Ask Ocky. I was a perfect fool, waiting for and anticipating your return. At one point I convinced myself you might not rejoin me. It was agony."

"Why on earth did you think I wouldn't come back to marry you, Quinton?" she asked him. This was a proud man, and his sudden revelations were most startling to say the least.

"What have I to offer you but a title? Having come to know you this past summer, Allegra, I knew that my title wasn't reason enough, for you are too honest to be awed by such things."

"But I gave my word to the match," she replied. "You surely didn't think I would break my word?"

"Logic and reason, I have discovered, play no part in love," he said quietly.

"I see," she said. "But do you trust me?"

"With my life, my darling," he swore.

Allegra laughed. She couldn't help it. A starburst of happiness was beginning to fill her. "You love me? You really love me?"

"Yes!" He pulled her into his arms, and kissed her hungrily.

"Oh, my." She laughed again. "Dearest Quinton, this is going to change everything," she told him.

"I know," he admitted, and kissed her again, his big hands beginning to wander over her body.

Allegra purred with open contentment. He loved her. She had never before believed in love, but suddenly his devotion was very important to her. "It is most unfashionable for a husband and his wife to be in love," she said, then murmured happily as his kisses covered her torso, to be followed by his warm bathing tongue. "Ohh, Quinton, that is nice," Allegra said softly. "Ahhh, yes," she agreed as he suckled upon her breasts until she thought they would burst from the sheer pleasure. When he began to lick her ear she imitated his action, whispering to him, "Do you want to fuck me again, Quinton?"

"I am going to fuck you again, Allegra," he replied as he pushed slowly into her, teasing her by withdrawing and entering again several times until she began to protest.

She wrapped herself about him, silently demanding his full attention and homage. "I want to feel the soaring again!" she finally told him. "Don't stop! Don't stop!" Her nails dug into his shoulders, and then raked down his back sharply.

The light pain honed his appetite for her. He drove deeply into the hot marsh of her sex making her whimper. The body beneath his strained and writhed as he forced her fiercely to passion's peak. His own desire for her was enormous. "You are mine, Allegra. You are mine!" he groaned, unable to withhold his own passions any longer.

"Oh! Oh! Ohhhh!" she cried in return. What was happening to her? It had been wonderful before, but this time she didn't think she was going to survive their shared lust. She was dying. Ohh, God, she was dying! And it was incredible!

When Allegra came to herself again it was within her husband's arms. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, and she could hear his heart thumping beneath her ear. His hand was gently stroking her dark hair which had come undone from its proper nighttime plait.

"You are revived," he said softly.

"Am I still alive?" she wondered aloud.

He laughed. "You have an incredible capacity for passion, my darling young wife," he told her, and she felt him kiss the top of her head. "You leave me breathless, Allegra."

She was silent for several minutes, and then she said, "Will you leave me tonight, Quinton?"

"No, my dear," he answered her. "It is unlikely I shall ever leave your bed again, no matter the gossip involved."

She smiled then closed her eyes, feeling more at peace with herself and with her life than she had ever felt before.

Quinton Hunter sensed his wife relax, but he was not yet ready to sleep. He had no idea what had made him admit his love for Allegra, but at least she hadn't been repulsed by her new knowledge. She had even said she harbored some sort of feeling for him, but she had not said she loved him. That would surely come in time, he decided. For the first time in his life he understood his father's drinking himself to death after his mother's death. To be without the one you love was surely a hell on earth.

Allegra awoke early. Quinton still lay by her side, curled onto his side, sleeping peacefully. She studied him closely for the first time. He was handsome, but it was not his beauty of either face or form that attracted her. Looking into his face she saw something else. She saw strength and honesty. But I don't believe in love, she thought once more. You don't? the little voice in her head mocked. Then why do you care that his demeanor is one of strength and honesty?

Quinton Hunter opened his eyes, and looked into Allegra's beautiful face. Her gaze was suddenly startled by what she saw.

"You do love me," she said wonderingly. "I can tell. It is the look in your eyes, Quinton. Oh dear! Oh dear!" God almighty! She sounded like a perfect ninny, but his words last night while surprising were nothing compared to the emotion she saw now in those silvery depths.

"You think too much, my darling," he told her. "Get up, madame. We have a houseful of guests arriving today, and a future King of England in the Lake bedchamber even as we speak."

Allegra couldn't help it. She giggled. "I never expected to be so rudely tossed into my duchess-dom this quickly, my lord," she told him. "We should have been gone when Prinny and young Mister Brummell arrived. They say we will not go to Italy next spring as some French general is harrying the Venetians."

"I will make it up to you when the French stop harrying the Venetians," he promised her. "Besides, I am longing to make love to you in a gondola, my darling Allegra. Mad, passionate love beneath the moon as we glide by the Piazza San Marco on a warm summer's night."

"Sir, I think you quite mad," Allegra told him, arising. "Ohh!" She whirled about, rubbing her bottom which he had just lovingly smacked.

"I could not resist," he told her with a grin.

She laughed, then told him, "Go back to your own bedchamber now, my lord. I wish to dress, and so must you. His Highness will want to hunt, I have not a doubt."

The duke had no sooner finished his morning ablutions and descended the stairs to his dining room when he heard Prinny and his traveling companion coming down behind him. A swift glance about the room told him that breakfast was more than ready.

"Good morning, my lord," Crofts said calmly.

The Duke of Sedgwick nodded his greeting, delighted and amazed at the same time that his household was running so smoothly. Allegra was truly a wonder, he thought to himself.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Crofts said pointedly.

The duke turned quickly, and welcomed his guests. The footmen seated the gentlemen and began bringing about the silver dishes and covered platters that held the breakfast. The prince almost purred as he helped himself to a rare and juicy beefsteak, and allowed the footman to ladle a sauce of cream, braised onions, and peppercorns over it. He murmured his approval of the eggs poached in heavy cream and Marsala wine and dusted with nutmeg. He hummed with delight as the various platters were presented to him. Then he ate, and he ate, and he ate, washing down his meal with a goblet of wine that never seemed to empty itself. His companions ate more sparingly.

When he had finished he leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine. "We are in the mood to hunt," he announced.

"Of course, Your Highness," the Duke of Sedgwick said, rising. "Will you be hunting with us today, Brummell?"

"Brummell doesn't hunt," Prinny chuckled. "Such raucous activity would disturb the perfect cut of his neckcloth, eh, Brummell?"

"Indeed, Your Highness, it would," Brummell answered without rancor. "Not to mention getting mud all over my excellent boots. My man spends at least an hour a day on each of my boots. It would send him to Bedlam if I dirtied my boots before noon."

"I have not asked after Princess Caroline's health, Your Highness," the duke said politely as they left the dining room.

"Fat, breeding, and dirtier than ever," Prinny said with a shudder. "If she whelps me a son she will have done her duty, and I can be done with her. I only married the bitch to get an increase in my allowance. The renovations for Carleton House have beggared me."

"It is to be hoped then that Your Highness will get his wish," the Duke of Sedgwick said. He found he was appalled by the prince's attitude towards his wife. Caroline Amelia Elizabeth, Princess of Brunswick, was her husband's cousin. She was ill educated, having been raised in her parents' unsophisticated court. Her mother was the eldest sister of King George III. She was the worst possible choice for a wife for the future George IV, but her mother had prevailed upon her brother, and so the match was made.

Caroline was not stupid, but she was uncultured. She was clever and witty, but willful and filled with high spirits. Her sharp tongue could be cruel and thoughtless. She had grown up with a rather dull mother who knitted stockings and netted embroidery at her homey palace outside of Brunswick. Caroline's father lived happily apart from his wife and family in his capital with his mistress, Frau Hertzfeldt.

The princess had been brought up without religion so that she might adapt to whatever faith her husband espoused. She could barely read, wrote poorly, and had scant knowledge of the world outside of her mother's palace. She had no musical abilities, could not paint watercolors, and did not dance well at all. She disliked fashion and had no sense of either style or color. Everything about Caroline was diametrically opposed to her husband. Consequently they had nothing at all in common.

She was not a male heir and so virtually no attention had been paid to Caroline of Brunswick, yet attention was what she desperately sought. Her personal hygiene left much to be desired. She cared little for her appearance, and could not be guided by those who knew that how a princess presented herself to the world made a great deal of difference to those by whom she must be accepted.

Her eldest sister had been a Duchess of Wurttemberg and had disappeared under rather odd circumstances while in Russia with her husband. It was rumored she was unfaithful to her husband with the Grand Duke Paul. The Duke of Wurttemberg had returned home with his children. The Russian tsarina, Catherine the Great, imprisoned the duchess in the castle of Lode on the Baltic. Two years later the news of her death was announced, although how she had died and when she had died was never revealed. And her younger sister, it would seem, also had an eye for the gentlemen. It was even possible she was not a virgin on her wedding night for there had been rumors of an affair.

Meeting his bride-to-be for the first time Prinny was horrified by the sloppily garbed girl whose body odor was quite discernible to his fastidious nostrils. "Harris, I am not well; pray get me a glass of brandy," he cried to the Earl of Malmesbury, who had brought the princess to England. Then the prince left the room, not hearing Caroline say to the earl, "Mon Dieu! Is the prince always like that? I find him very fat, and nothing as handsome as his portrait." Nonetheless the wedding took place three days later in the Chapel Royal in St. James Palace.

The Duke of Sedgwick had been there. He remembered how drunk Prinny had been, wandering about the chapel singing nursery songs to himself, having to be led back to the altar by his furious father. He managed to consummate his marriage, but then spent the rest of the night drunk, lying in the fireplace grate as his bride was happy to relate to any who would listen. From that one coupling, however, came the princess's current pregnancy, for Prinny never slept with her again. He would not even live with her, but went about his life as if his marriage had not occurred at all.

Quinton Hunter had married Allegra for her fortune. There had been no polite deception about it, but many couples wed for wealth and status. How a gentleman treated his wife, however, was a different matter altogether. Had he not fallen in love with Allegra, Quinton Hunter would have still treated her with respect and courtesy. He pitied Prinny's wife. Even Henry VIII had come to a comfortable arrangement with Anne of Cleves. There was no excuse for such discourtesy, or unkindness.

"The horses are ready, Your Grace," Crofts said, coming to his side. He gestured towards the open door.

"Excellent! Excellent!" the prince said with a smile. He turned to Brummell. "Find the library, Georgie. We'll be back in time for a hearty luncheon."

Crofts nodded imperceptibly to his master.

Allegra ate a petit dejeuner in her own apartments. Then she dressed, preparing to meet her guests when they arrived. Downstairs Crofts informed her that the duke and the prince had gone out riding. Mr. Brummell was in the library, and luncheon would be served at one o'clock.

"Do we have enough supplies for the kitchens?" Allegra asked. "This prince eats enough for three men, I fear."

"Cook gave the list to Perkins, and he departed for town early this morning, my lady. He should be back shortly with the cart."

"Crofts, this house could not run without you," Allegra complimented the elderly majordomo. "Thank you."

"Shall I tell Mr. Brummell that you are up and about, your ladyship?"

"Not yet. I wish to write a letter to Aunt Mama before I must be entertaining. I shall be in the family drawing room."

The duke and the prince returned home with several brace of rabbits to show for their morning's ride. Allegra was in the drawing room with Mr. Brummell when they arrived. Brummell shuddered delicately at the sight of the rabbits hanging from a footman's hand, but the prince was delighted with his morning's venture. Luncheon was served, and the prince ate as if he hadn't eaten in a month's time. Allegra wondered how long he would remain their guest as she watched him consume a platter of salmon, a dozen lamb chops, a beefsteak, and a small chicken by himself. He then fell asleep in the drawing room, watched over by Mr. Brummell.

The guests began to arrive. Sirena and Ocky first. Allegra saw that her cousin looked worried as she alighted from her open carriage. While the duke and Ocky greeted each other, the cousins linked arms, and walked into the house.

"What has happened?" Sirena demanded.

"What on earth do you mean?" Allegra responded.

"You are married less than a week, and you give a house party with Prinny as your guest of honor! You said nothing of this several days ago when you were wed. Are you all right? Has the duke been cruel?"

"Ohh, dearest Sirena, what a worrywart you are," Allegra laughed softly. "Everything is wonderful. Prinny, however, arrived the morning after the wedding expecting to come to the wedding. He was mightily disappointed that it was over and done with, and so I invited him to a hunting party. I claimed it was an annual event for Quinton and his three closest friends. That is why I hurriedly sent you and Ocky invitations. I couldn't allow Prinny to know it was all a Banbury tale so his feelings would not be injured."

Sirena heaved a gusty sigh of relief. "Thank heavens! I was imagining all sorts of terrible things."

"Why on earth would you?" Now Allegra was puzzled.

"Well, yours is a marriage of convenience, cousin. I was afraid that you and the duke had had a falling out," Sirena admitted. "He is a very proud man."

"I had noticed," Allegra said mischievously, "but you may cease your worrying, darling. He claims to be in love with me, and I believe it to be so."

"Thank heavens!" Sirena cried.

"But I am not yet positive of my feelings for him," Allegra continued. "I am still not certain I understand this emotion called love. Until I do, I can make no admissions of my own. And, Sirena, darling, you must say nothing to anyone but Ocky."

"Oh, Allegra, I am so happy for you!" Sirena's blue eyes were teary.

"Why on earth are you happy for her?" The Countess of Aston and Lady Walworth entered the foyer.

"The duke is in love with Allegra!" Sirena exclaimed, and then she clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

"She promised not to tell," Allegra said dryly.

"Well, of course he's in love with her. You mean you didn't know, Allegra?" Eunice, Countess of Aston was surprised.

"I thought everyone knew he was in love with Allegra," Lady Caroline Walworth said. "Gracious, he told both Bain and Dree; and Ocky was, of course, the first to know."

"But I didn't know," Allegra said. "I thought my marriage was one of convenience. That is what I wanted. That is what I expected."

"To be loved is far better," Eunice remarked with a shy smile.

"Are you in love with him?" Caroline demanded, very much to the point, and like her formidable aunt.

"I don't know," Allegra admitted.

"A woman can't help but love a man who loves her. He's handsome and amusing. The love is sure to come," Caroline said firmly. "Now, why on earth are we here but four days after your wedding? You and the duke should be off somewhere billing and cooing, darling."

Allegra laughed, and once again explained the situation to her friends. She finished by saying, "I have also invited Lady Perry and Lady Johnstone. Both are widows, and are very lively, I am told."

"I wonder which one Prinny will take to bed," Caroline said mischievously.

"Probably both," Eunice said drolly. "Or possibly he will share with young Mr. Brummell."

"Brummell wouldn't take such a healthy woman to his bed," Caroline riposted. "She might muss his hair, or his garments. Do you think he is as elegant in his nightgarb as he is said to be in his clothing?"

"Is it true he wears black to dinner?" Eunice wondered aloud.

"He does," Allegra said, "and frankly I think it extremely elegant. Far more so than suits of peach or sky blue silk. You will find him most charming as I have."

"He barely acknowledged us in London last season," Caroline recalled. "Aunt thinks he is too high-flown."

"I asked him about it," Allegra said. "He told me he finds debutantes tiresome and boring for the most part. Marriage, he says, makes a woman far more interesting."

"Lord, how superior the man is. I vow I am terrified to meet him," Eunice said, and they all laughed.

Crofts came, and offered to escort the ladies to their bedchambers. "Lady Perry and her sister are arriving, your ladyship," he told Allegra. The others hurried off, and Allegra went out to greet the last of her guests to arrive.

They stepped from their carriage. Lady Perry was a petite blonde in her late twenties, and her sister a bit older and plumper.

"Duchess, how kind of you to invite us," Georgianna Perry said in an elegant, well-modulated voice.

"I am in your debt, both of you," Allegra responded charmingly. "The prince arrived unexpectedly," and then she went on to explain the situation to the two attractive widows.

"We shall, of course, keep your secret," Margot, Lady Johnstone said. "How sensitive of you to protect the prince's feelings."

"I am seating you on either side of him at dinner," Allegra told them.

"Of course," Lady Perry replied, understanding the situation immediately. "My sister and I shall endeavor to keep Prinny amused."

"Do you hunt?" Allegra asked them. "The gentlemen go out at dawn."

"Do you?" was the response.

"No," Allegra admitted.

"Then we shall be more than glad to follow your lead, Duchess," Lady Perry told her hostess. "Amusing Prinny in the evening is one thing, but I believe we are wiser to leave the gentlemen to their blood sports while we get our beauty sleep. Don't you agree?

"Oh, yes!" Allegra said with a broad smile, and then she escorted her guests into the house.

Chapter 11

The dining room at Hunter's Lair was filled with laughter and clever banter. The mahogany table was covered with a beautiful white damask cloth from Ireland, edged in lace. A large silver bowl filled with late yellow roses and greenery was centered, and flanked on either side by magnificent silver candelabra burning pure white beeswax candles that were scented with rose oil. There were twelve at the table tonight, and each place was set with a beautiful silver service and fine china from Dr. Wall's Royal Worcester pottery. Behind each chair stood a footman in green and silver livery, while other servants passed around the dishes being offered this evening.

The fish course consisted of fresh raw oysters served from a large bowl, steamed mussels, fat prawns with a mustard sauce, and sliced salmon and trout, both of which had been poached in wine and were placed on silver platters amid a bed of fresh cress. Next came the meats, poultry, and game. There was a side of beef that had been packed in salt and roasted over a slow fire. There was venison, partridges cooked to a golden turn, rabbit pies oozing brown gravy, a turkey stuffed with bread, apples, and chestnuts, and two large hams covered with cloves and brown sugar, as well as several silver plates of lamb chops, the prince's favorite.

There were bowls of green beans with slivered almonds, small onions in a cream sauce with black peppercorns, tiny whole carrots glazed with honey and sprinkled with nutmeg, and a bowl holding a large cauliflower dripping with melted cheese. There were potatoes in a Hollandaise sauce, and another bowl containing tiny potato puffs. There were several platters of lettuce and cucumbers in a piquant sauce, flavored with vinegar. And there was wine poured continuously into goblets that were never allowed to be empty.

Finally, came the sweets. There were several kinds of cheese cakes, spongy Genovese cake filled with a coffee cream, tarts of both lemon and raspberry, two soufflés-chocolate and orange, pineapple creams, and caramel custards, as well as bananas, grapes, and oranges. Small wheels of cheese were set upon the table: one of cheddar, one of Stilton. There were delicate little sugar wafers, and of course, champagne.

"Madame," Prinny said, unbuttoning his waistcoat two buttons, "a most delicious meal. I do so enjoy simple country cooking. My compliments to the kitchen, Crofts."

"Thank you, Your Highness," the majordomo said, bowing.

"Now," Prinny said, "perhaps some cards before we retire for the night. We are doing some serious hunting in the morning, Duke, aren't we?"

"Indeed, Your Highness, we are. There is, I have been told, a rather rowdy old boar in my forest who has been troubling my tenants' gardens. The gamekeeper says he should make good sport for he's a wily beast; but we must begin early. At first light."

"Excellent!" the prince approved, arising from the table, and offering his arm to Lady Johnstone. "Do you gamble, m'dear?" he asked her.

"I adore it, Your Highness, but alas, I am a widow, in modest circumstances," she replied. She was a striking woman with dark red hair, very white skin, a lush form, and warm amber eyes.

"Allow me to stake you, m'dear," the prince said, smiling broadly.

"But how shall I ever pay you back, Your Highness?" she replied.

"Not to worry, m'dear. We shall come to some little arrangement, I am certain," Prinny purred, letting his blue eyes wander to her deep cleavage. He led her off to the drawing room where the tables had been set up.

"Come, Lady Perry," young Mr. Brummell said, offering that lady his arm. "You, too, I am certain, will eventually find favor with his highness."

"Do you really think so?" Georgianna said ingenuously.

"Oh, yes," Mr. Brummell predicted, and led her off after the prince.

"If you continue to entertain like this you will never get rid of him," Caroline teased Allegra when Brummell was out of their hearing.

"You certainly picked him the right partner for his evening's entertainment," Eunice told her hostess mischievously. " 'Oh, how shall I ever pay you back, sir?' " she mimicked Lady Johnstone.

"I would die if he looked at me that way," Sirena said, shuddering.

"Allegra chose just the perfect guests," the duke said quietly. "Both Lady Perry and her sister are women of the world, and experienced. They will keep Prinny amused in the evenings. Then perhaps he will not remain up all night playing cards, and we can go to bed with our beautiful wives."

The other gentlemen laughed, as the ladies blushed prettily.

"Poor Quint has been forced to make a fourth at Whist before we arrived, but refused to play for stakes," Ocky said. "Prinny wasn't very happy."

"They played for English counties instead. Quinton was given Worcester, Hereford, and Wales to start; but he would have been king of England in just another night the way Prinny plays," Allegra said frankly. "I am not certain he fully understands the game at all. He wants to win, but he is too rash."

"We had best join our guests," the duke told them, smiling at his wife's little sally.

The prince, Brummell, and their two ladies were already deep into a game when the others entered the drawing room. There was another table set up. Lord Walworth, the earl, and Ocky, along with Lady Walworth, sat down to cards. Allegra went to the piano and began to play while the duke turned the pages for her. The other women sat talking and listening.

"You are amazing," Quinton Hunter said softly to his wife. "We have been married less than a week, and you are entertaining as if you had been my duchess your whole life, Allegra. The prince has already told me half a dozen times how much he is enjoying himself." He dropped a kiss atop her dark head.

"I am happy you are pleased, my lord," she answered, her heart racing just a bit faster as she felt his lips. Then she looked up at him and smiled mischievously. "Please do not think that I shall allow such lavish meals to be served when we are alone. I do not want you looking like Prinny. I have noted that you have an appetite for sweets, for you ate two slices of Genovese cake, not to mention a lemon tart and some chocolate soufflé tonight."

"They were delicious," he replied with a chuckle. "I was not aware cook knew the recipe for Genovese cake."

"She didn't. I gave her Aunt Mama's recipe book. My stepmother had copies made for both Sirena and for me," Allegra told him. "Once the guests are gone, sir, it will be a simple life, and simple meals for us."

"If the truth be known, Allegra, and I think it no secret to our friends, you are the only sweet I truly desire," the duke told her.

She stopped playing, and looked up at him. "Will you always say such lovely things to me, Quinton?"

"Yes, Allegra, I will," he vowed. "Believe me, no one is more surprised than I to find myself in this particular situation. I can only hope that someday you may come to love me as I love you."

"I will try, Quinton," she promised him. "I truly will."

The prince, having won several hundred pounds for a change this night, went off to bed before midnight. It was no secret that Lady Johnstone joined him shortly afterward to pay her debt. The following morning found the heir to Britain's throne in an excellent mood and ready for the hunt at the hour of six o'clock. Before leaving, the gentlemen consumed an early breakfast of eggs, bacon, oat stirabout, freshly baked breads, butter, and cheese, not to mention creamed cod and a platter of salmon.

The ladies, however, remained abed the entire morning, but for Allegra, who was downstairs by ten o'clock to go over the menus with the cook and consult with Crofts regarding the pantry, for she was still worried that there should not be enough food. The majordomo reassured his mistress that Perkins had brought back more than enough supplies the day before.

So the next few days slipped by with the gentlemen hunting in the morning and early afternoon, while the ladies enjoyed one another's company. In the evenings a sumptuous meal was served followed by cards until the prince deigned it was time for bed. The pesky boar was killed as were two fine deer and a number of waterfowl. Prinny was pleased, but then he began to grow bored with country life, and announced he would be returning to London the following day. The next morning the four young couples waved him and Mr. Brummell off, but only after Prinny had consumed a huge breakfast, and a large picnic hamper was stored in his coach.

"Delightful time," he assured his host and hostess. "Can't remember when I've had such fun." He bowed to them all, and kissed the ladies' hands.

Lady Johnstone and Lady Perry were not there to bid His Highness a farewell. The prince had invited them both into his bed the evening before. They were frankly exhausted, for he was a tireless lover. He had casually invited them to London. They had promised to visit-eventually. It was not until midafternoon that their carriage collected the two ladies, who thanked the duke and duchess for including them in their little party and departed. They were the last of the guests to go for the others had left shortly after Prinny, promising to return for Allegra's first ball at the end of the month.

Th e autumn deepened. The trees were turning wonderful colors on the estate, and in the hills around them. The duke was pleased to learn that four of his mares were breeding, and would foal in the spring. Although he wanted to take Allegra away to some wonderfully romantic place, he was glad they would be here then. The French general, Napoleon, was making difficulties in Italy, and the duke didn't think they would be able to travel there in the spring after all. Still, he would take her to London this winter so she might enjoy her status as his wife. The country was a dull and quiet place in winter, and there could be no harm in spending a few weeks in town after the new year had begun.

The ball given by the new Duchess of Sedgwick in late autumn was to be a great success. Allegra had decided it would be a costume ball, and had invited all the families of note in the county. No invitation was refused, for there were many people curious to meet the new duchess, whose blood was hardly blue, but whose purse was overflowing. As Hunter's Lair was not a large house, many of the guests were staying with friends and relations who lived close by. The ball was to begin at ten o'clock in the evening. A buffet would be served at midnight when everyone would unmask; and then dancing and gambling would continue until the dawn when a breakfast would be presented to those remaining guests.

"I do not like costumes," Quinton Hunter told his wife.

"You will make a marvelous Caesar," Allegra said sweetly.

"And what are you to be? Caesar's wife?" he demanded.

"Cleopatra," she replied. "Mistresses are far more interesting than wives, or so I have been told," she finished mischievously.

"Cleopatra? Cleopatra was a…"

"Queen,"Allegra finished for him.

"I will not have my wife parading about in scanty draperies," the duke said firmly. "Everyone in the damned county is coming, and there has never been any unseemly gossip about a Duchess of Sedgwick."

"How unfortunate for you that your female antecedents have been so dull," Allegra replied tersely. "And do not tell me what I will or won't wear, sir. When did you become an arbiter of fashion?"

"Allegra!" he shouted. "You are my wife, and you will obey me, damnit."

"How dare you assume that I am so birdbrained as to flaunt myself before the county in, what was it you called it? Scanty draperies. My costume is rich and elegant, but there will be no one who can call it improper, unseemly, or unsuitable," she shouted back at him. "Ohh, you are the most irritating man!"

"And you are the most impossible woman!" he responded before sweeping her into his arms and kissing her soundly.

"You shall not get around me that easily," Allegra cried, pounding on his chest with her two little fists.

"Ohh, but I shall," he mocked her fury, and then he kissed her again until her knees were jelly, and she was furious at herself for the weakness of character she was exhibiting by yielding to him, but she just couldn't seem to help herself.

"Stop, stop," she said desperately.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because I cannot think clearly when you kiss me, damn you."

"Gracious, you have now taken to swearing," he teased, releasing her from his embrace. "You are not at all the proper girl I married, madame. You have turned into a naughty wench who swears and is deliciously wanton in our bed. I find that I like it, as long as the image you present to the public is one of decorous and cool behavior as befits a Duchess of Sedgwick."

"Damn the Duchess of Sedgwick," Allegra muttered at him. What the hell was the matter with her these days? He was right. She did enjoy their time together in their bed. In fact she was enjoying it more each time they came together which was practically every night. His passion for her was great, and she was astounded at how well he could engage her lust. But it wasn't love, was it?

On the night of their ball he saw her costume for the very first time. It was exactly as she had said, rich and elegant. She wore a white linen gown, a long straight pleated skirt, and a simple sleeveless bodice with a high rounded neck over which she wore a magnificent collar of turquoise, gold, and black beads that lay flat upon her chest.

"My God," he swore softly on seeing the necklace. "They look most authentic." He bent to examine it more closely.

"It is," she said. "One of Papa's clients bought it for me in Egypt several years ago. That is why I wanted to be Cleopatra, so 1 might wear it at long last. I never have before. Can you imagine my appearing in London last season in such a splendid necklace? Do you like the earbobs that go with it?" She shook her head slightly so they would jiggle.

The Duke of Sedgwick was amazed that she could be so casual wearing such a valuable antique. "You are most beautiful, Allegra," he finally said. He liked the full-length cloth of gold cape that she wore with her plain white gown. On her bare feet were golden sandals, and she wore an ornate black and gold wig, topped with a gold circlet from which sprang a golden snake with ruby eyes.

"And you are very handsome as a young Caesar," she returned the compliment. "I am, however, regretting my decision to let you show your knees, sir, for they are most tempting. Perhaps I should have had you outfitted in a long gown worn by the elderly senators of that ancient time. Try not to flaunt yourself too greatly, Quinton. No Duke of Sedgwick has ever done such a thing, and we certainly don't want you to start now."

"I believe the law allows me to beat you, madame, provided the stick is no thicker than my thumb," he growled at her.

"I'd rather you spank me, Quinton," she murmured teasingly to him, kissing his earlobe. "I believe I can be very naughty if you spank me, my lord."

"I am going to forbid Eunice and Caroline in this house," he told her. "They are suggesting wicked notions to you," he said, pretending to be very shocked, but he grinned at her. He damn well knew such proposals came from them, for Sirena and Ocky were too in love to entertain such vagaries of passion.

"We had best go down to dinner. Our houseguests will be waiting for us," Allegra said sweetly, as if nothing at all had occurred between them. She smoothed her skirt.

Viscount Pickford, the Earl of Aston, and Lord Walworth along with their wives were the duke and duchess's houseguests. The earl was dressed as one of his Elizabethan ancestors, in black velvet with a starched white neckruff, and Eunice was a lady of the same period in a black and gold gown. She wore marvelous diamond jewelry. Lord Walworth was an Indian prince in scarlet silk and cloth of gold with a gold turban sporting a large black pearl and several ostrich feathers. But Caroline had chosen to dress herself as a medieval jester in a bright tunic costume of red, blue, and yellow. There were bells on her shoes, and her cap. Her legs were sheathed in red and yellow striped tights, and appeared most shapely. Viscount Pickford made them all laugh in his brown monk's costume, for he said he felt like a monk right now. Sirena blushed as she laughed, teasing him that one could not make a cake without breaking eggs and baking it in the oven. She was garbed in the full blue and silver brocade of a medieval lady, which nicely concealed her delicate condition.

They had barely finished dinner when the guests began arriving. The duke and the duchess hurried to the ballroom to greet them. Most had never been inside Hunter's Lair, and those few who had marveled at its transformation.

"What wonders have been accomplished," a plump gentleman said.

"Money can buy anything," sniffed his wife, her beady eyes darting about.

"Except good taste," drawled another lady, "but it would appear that the duchess has a great deal of that. Everything is exquisite."

The musicians played a minuet as the Duke and Duchess of Sedgwick opened the ball. Familiar country dances followed. Those guests not interested in dancing found the drawing room set up for cards, and the play began in earnest.

Allegra kept a sharp eye out that the candles in the candelabras and sconces did not smoke, but she need not have for Crofts was carefully watching, too. He had been in service in this house for sixty years, but never had he seen a party such as the one being held tonight. He felt his chest swelling with pride. This was the way the Dukes of Sedgwick should have always entertained.

At midnight the masks came off, although everybody had already known who was beneath them. The dining room doors were opened, and the guests trooped into the beautiful room to enjoy the buffet. Long tables covered in fine Irish linen, and filled to overflowing, greeted them. There were two whole sides of beef being carved expertly. There was venison, salmon, trout, raw oysters, and roast geese. There were several turkeys, quail, partridge pies, and rabbit pasties. There were bowls of macaroni and cheddar cheese, potato puffs, potatoes with Hollandaise sauce, green peas, onions in milk and butter with black pepper, baked carrots and apples, green beans, and braised lettuce in white wine. There were six large hams that had been baked with honey, brown sugar, and cloves. There were platters of lobsters and mussels steamed until their shells opened. There were prawns served with a mustard and mayonnaise sauce. The guests didn't know where to begin.

The dessert table was equally resplendent with a dozen Genovese cakes; tarts of lemon, raspberry, and mince; apple, pear, and apricot fritters; several different cheese cakes; both pear and apple tarts; six large caramel custards; tiny pots au chocolat; and at the last moment the servants brought out soufflés of lemon and chocolate. There were also delicate sugar wafers, and decanters of sweet port wine on the dessert table.

"Never seen such an elegant spread hereabouts," Lady Bealle said approvingly. "Most generous. Most hospitable." Lady Bessie Bealle was the local dowager with the most influence in the county. Her favor was eagerly sought by all the hostesses.

"She is surprisingly mannerly, and well-spoken for a young woman of lesser family," the Countess of Whitley noted.

"But of course Sedgwick married her for her money," said Lady Margaret Dursley. "The Hunters are overproud, and have always taken only the best girls for wives."

"The best gels with the smallest, or nonexistent fortunes," Lady Bessie Bealle reminded them. "Poor Sedgwick was down to living in one room if the gossip be true. He could hardly take a respectable wife under such circumstances. And, my dears, he may have married her for her money, but have you noticed how truly attentive he is to his beautiful wife? It's a love match if I ever saw one!

Her companions grudgingly agreed, as about them the other guests ate and drank and gossiped.

Sirena left the ballroom shortly after one o'clock in the morning. "I am constantly exhausted these days," she explained to her cousin. "It has gotten a bit better of late, but I must seek my bed. Do be sure that Ocky behaves himself and doesn't drink too much."

"I will, darling," Allegra said, kissing her cousin on both of her cheeks. "Sweet dreams."

The festivities went on, and while she had to admit that even she was getting tired, Allegra remained the perfect hostess. The musicians played endlessly. The guests danced and gossiped and gambled. By dawn when breakfast was served in the large dining room, over fifty people remained. The duchess, however, bid each and every one of her departing guests a personal farewell, thanking them for coming. She had gained Lady Bealle's approval fully, and that was good enough for the other hostesses in the county. The Duchess of Sedgwick's family might not have been at the top of the tree, but they had raised her to take her place there; and such a position as she now held suited her perfectly.

Finally the last of their guests were waved off on a gray and chilly November first morning. The houseguests had already hurried off to their rooms as the duke escorted his wife upstairs to her apartments. Closing the door behind him he took her in his arms, and kissed her slowly and very sweetly.

"I could not have chosen a better duchess," he told her honestly.

"It did go well," she agreed with a small smile. "The servants must be given their due in all of this, Quinton. They performed their duties admirably." She sighed, and put her head against his chest. "I am exhausted, my lord."

"Honor will help you, my dear," he said, and then kissing her hand he left her to go to his own apartments next door.

"It was grand, your ladyship," Honor said enthusiastically. "I watched from the stairs for a time last night as they came into the house. I have never in all my life seen such beautiful clothes as were worn by your guests. It was a sight out of the stories my old granny used to tell." She took the cloth of gold cape off Allegra's shoulders, laying it aside.

"Some of the costumes were fantastic," Allegra agreed with a smile. "Well, Honor, I have had my baptism of fire as the Duchess of Sedgwick, and I have survived. Old Lady Bealle fully approves or me.

"And well she should," Honor replied loyally as she helped her mistress from the heavy wig, and the rest of her clothing. Then she said, "I know it's late, or rather early, m'lady, but I drew a small bath for you in your dressing room. Will you be taking it?"

Allegra nodded, and walked naked across the bedchamber into her dressing room where her porcelain tub was set up now. Stepping into the lukewarm scented water she sank down and sighed. "Oh, this is wonderful, Honor. You are a clever girl." She did not linger long, however, just long enough to quickly wash. Honor dried her with a large towel, which was a great deal warmer than her tub had been, and slid a soft white cotton night garment over her mistress. Then Allegra climbed gratefully into bed, and was asleep almost instantly. She did not hear her husband come into the room shortly after Honor had left. And she certainly never felt him climb into bed next to her.

When she awoke in midafternoon he was lying next to her, snoring lightly. She rolled onto her side and studied him. They hadn't even been married a full month yet, but there had been no time to really study Quinton Hunter. Yes, he was handsome with his black hair and thick eyelashes that now fanned across his high cheekbones. Those eyelashes were every bit as thick as hers, Allegra thought. His eyebrows were heavy and bushy. He had a long, and what was referred to as an aquiline nose. And his mouth. She sighed softly. It was big, and gave her the most delicious kisses. She considered his chin. It was square, and there was a dimple directly in the center. It was really quite outrageous.

Then suddenly his silvery eyes were staring into her violet ones. Allegra gasped, startled. "You are awake," she said, wondering how long he had been aware of her scrutiny.

He smiled lazily at her. "May I assume that you approve of what you see, madame?" he said.

"What on earth do you mean, Quinton?"

"You were studying me quite closely, madame." He rolled her suddenly onto her back, his hands restraining hers quite effectively. "Admit it, duchess." He gave her a quick kiss.

"Never." She laughed, and then she shrieked. "Sir, you are a randy fellow. Why your manhood is hard as a rock against my leg."

"I have to pee," he announced, releasing her, and then getting up to find the chamber pot. "But when I am finished, Duchess, you have my permission to make me randy," he told her with a wicked grin. Then turning his back he pissed into the flowered china chamber pot, sighing with relief as he pushed it back beneath their bed. He turned about, and advanced upon her once again.

"Quinton. We have guests," Allegra cried.

"Who, if they are awake, my dear duchess, are probably doing exactly what you and I are about to do," he told her, grinning again.

"It is daylight," she protested as he climbed back next to her. "Can you do it in the daylight?"

Quinton Hunter burst out laughing. "My darling duchess," he said, "you can do it any time and almost anywhere, I assure you."

"How interesting," she purred, her voice suddenly very seductive. "On the rug?" Her look was questioning.

"Yes."

"In the garden?"

"Absolutely."

"In my hath?"

"A charming idea," he agreed.

"Any time?"

"And almost any place," he repeated softly, kissing her ear.

"But what if I were dressed?" she demanded.

"I should take great pleasure, Duchess, in lifting your skirts in order to have my way with you," he murmured wickedly, blowing into her ear now.

"Oh la, sir, you are very naughty," Allegra accused him, but her heart was beating wildly. He was half atop her, their legs entwining in a sensuous embrace. His lips were employed in kissing her lips, her throat, her face, and every part of her body that he could reach. Her round little breasts were crushed against his hard chest, his soft fur irritating her nipples which suddenly seemed extraordinarily sensitive.

Her perfumed skin was utterly intoxicating, he thought. Unable to help himself, he began to mouth her with his lips. Was it possible to eat her up? He certainly wanted to devour her for she was to his thinking most delicious. His lips moved across her belly. He could feel a pulse fluttering beneath his mouth. She was making little noises that seemed to come from the back of her throat. She was writhing beneath him, and he held her fast so he might continue kissing her. His manhood was beginning to hurt, throbbing with desire, eager to plunge within her fragrant warmth. Finally Quinton Hunter could wait no longer. Covering her lush body with his, he pressed forward.

"Ahhhh," Allegra cried as he entered her. "Ohh, Quinton! Oh, darling, yes!" Her slim arms clutched at him. Her long legs wrapped themselves about his lean torso. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" The words were almost a prayer.

He was lost within her. His thoughts disappeared. There was only sensation, and the wonder of the pleasure they were giving and sharing with each other. His hips drove relentlessly against her hips. His hands tangled themselves into the dark mass of her hair, holding her head tightly as their kisses fired volley after volley of hot desire that coursed through their veins until they could kiss no more. They were breathless with the hunger they seemed to engender within each other. They were so finely attuned to each other that once again they exploded together, then collapsed into each other's embrace.

For several long minutes the sounds of their breathing, at first ragged, and finally less harried, filled the room.

"You are magnificent," the duke finally said to his wife, kissing her softly as he rolled away from her. Propping himself upon an elbow he looked down into her beautiful face.

"You called me darling," he said.

"I didn't," she quickly denied.

He laughed softly. "You did, Allegra. Could it be that you are beginning to harbor a tendre for me, Duchess?''

"I hardly know you, sir," she said, struggling to keep herself from falling headlong into his silvery gaze.

"You have known me since April," he said, chuckling, "and you have lived at Hunter's Lair with me since mid-June and you have been my wife for four weeks."

"Is it four weeks?" she said innocently.

"Say you love me," he coaxed her. "You know that I love you," Quinton Hunter said softly.

"You lust after me," she said. "Is that love, my lord?"

"Lusting after you is part of my love for you," he explained to her. "But the thought of being without you-ever-drives me to darkest despair, Allegra. I love you. And I think you love me."

"I don't understand love," Allegra persisted.

"Do not be evasive, Allegra," he gently scolded her. "Answer yourself this question. Would you rather be with me, or without me?"

"With you," she cried without hesitation.

"You love me," he said quietly.

And the reality slammed into her. She did love him! She didn't understand anything about love, or why she felt the way she did toward him, but she did. "I love you," she said wonderingly. "Oh, Quinton, I do."

"I know," he replied, enfolding her into his arms. "Despite our careful resolve, my darling duchess. Despite the plain facts that would caution us against such folly, we have nonetheless fallen in love with each other." He kissed the top of her head. "I do not understand it either, Allegra, but there it is."

"I suppose it isn't a bad thing," she grudgingly considered.

"No," he agreed, "it seems to be quite a pleasant thing."

"I shall never betray you like my mother did my father," she promised him. "Mama, they say, was always emotional and indiscreet. I am my father's daughter, Quinton, I swear it."

"I know you are, my dearest Allegra. Despite your great fortune I should have never married you had I believed for one moment that you would betray me or bring embarrassment upon my family's name."

"What do we do now?" she asked him.

"We live happily ever after, I believe,'' he answered her with a broad smile. "We make love and have little heirs and heiresses, and live happily ever after, Allegra."

"It seems simple enough, but life, I have found, is rarely that simple, Quinton," she replied. "It ought to be, but it isn't."

"It will be for us, my darling," he promised her.

The clock on the mantel struck four o'clock.

"Good lord!" Allegra cried, leaping up in their bed. "We have guests in the house to attend to, my lord. This is their last night with us. Our friends go home tomorrow, and I don't know when we will see each other again." She squirmed from his embrace, and jumped from their bed. "Oh, lord, I hope no one has come downstairs and asked for us yet. Oh, Quinton! Get up! Get up now, my lord!" She yanked the bell pull for Honor. "I have to get dressed. I have to see that the dinner menu is correct."

"Crofts will attend to the dinner menu, Duchess," her husband said calmly. "You have a most adorable bottom, madame."

"Ohh!" Allegra flushed bright pink. She was completely naked. She had come from her bed unawares, so great was her concern for their friends. Then she laughed. There was no use grabbing for something to cover herself now. "Get up, Quinton," she repeated sternly.

He grinned lazily at her, and slid from the bed, as naked as she. "I had best retire to my own quarters before I shock poor Honor," he said with a chuckle. Then he blew her a kiss from his fingertips, and was gone through the connecting door.

At that same moment Honor entered her mistress's bedchamber. "Good afternoon, my lady," she said calmly, avoiding looking at Allegra directly as she was unclothed. "Shall I bring you something to eat?"

"Our guests?" Allegra almost squawked.

Honor calmly went to the wardrobe and took out a silk chamber robe which she draped over her mistress. "Only just beginning to stir, my lady. Mr. Crofts has everything under control."

"I must get downstairs as quickly as possible," Allegra said. "It will not do to have the guests without their hostess."

"Yes, my lady," Honor replied. "I'll send an undermaid for your tea right away."

When Allegra descended the stairs an hour later she found the house still quiet. She peeped into the ballroom as she came, and discovered it neat and empty. The beautiful wooden floors were swept clean. The chairs and the settees lining the walls were neatly covered. The great chandeliers had been done up again in dust cloths until the next ball. The tall pedestals were bare of their flowers, and the heavy gold satin draperies were drawn, allowing only slivers of afternoon sunlight to creep between their panels and streak across the floor. Entering the family drawing room she found Sirena sitting, sewing upon a tiny garment.

"You are awake. Crofts said you had not got to bed until alter seven o'clock," Sirena said. "You must be exhausted. It was a wonderful ball, cousin. I hope to come to others in this house when I am less encumbered by my belly." She smiled at Allegra.

"I love him," Allegra answered. She simply could not keep such news from her beloved Sirena.

"I know," Sirena replied, looking up and smiling.

"How could you know when even I did not?" her cousin demanded. "Do not be smug, Sirena, or I shall be very cross with you."

Sirena laughed. "Ocky and I both knew the day you married Quinton that you were in love with him. It was simply a matter of you coming to terms with it, facing the truth, and admitting it to yourself. Love is neither practical nor sensible, Allegra, but when it touches you, you are forever changed. We saw that change even before you could face it yourself. I am not being smug. I am relieved, and I am happy for you both. Now I know that everything will be all right."

"I shall not change because I am in love with my husband," Allegra protested.

"I do not care how you justify it, cousin," Sirena said quietly. She held up a tiny gown she was working on. "Isn't it sweet? It is so amazing to realize that in late March or early April I shall be putting this wee gown on my baby." She set her sewing aside, and placed her hands upon her belly. "I thought I felt something very much like a butterfly within me this morning, Allegra."

Now Allegra smiled. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if one day my daughter married your son? We must arrange the match one day."

"Are we dressing for dinner?" Caroline Walworth entered the room now in the company of Eunice Bainbridge.

"No," Allegra said. "I shall ask Crofts to set up the highboard in the Great Hall tonight. We can amuse ourselves afterward, but since you are all leaving in the morning, I imagine you will want to make an early night of it." She sighed. "I shall miss you when you are gone."

"Bain says we are going to spend part of the winter in London," Eunice said.

"So are we," Caroline squealed. "I know that you don't like the city, Allegra, but the country is so dull in the winter months. You must come, and we shall all be together."

"I can't come," Sirena said sadly.

"No, you can't," Caroline replied in a practical tone, "but you were the first wed, and so it is only natural that you are the first of us to have a baby, Sirena. There will be another time for you, dearest, but if the rest of us aren't with child, or at least admitting to it, then we should go. If it snows this winter none of us shall be able to leave home. The snow does not seem to bother anyone in London."

"Are we keeping city hours, madame?" Quinton Hunter demanded of his wife as he entered the drawing room with the other gentlemen. "Where is the dinner, Duchess? We are all ravenous for a good supper."

"Patience, prithee, I pray you, Duke," Allegra said to him. "I must ask Crofts to set the table in the Great Hall, but the food, I will wager, is ready, although when you slugabeds were going to join us was a mystery." Then she curtsied to them all, and hurried from the room to find Crofts.

The dinner was served shortly thereafter, and the hall was filled with merry laughter as the eight friends ate and talked. Lady Caroline presented her plan that they should all meet in London in mid-January. The plan was heartily approved by all present except the viscount and his wife.

"I suppose you could go if you wanted to," Sirena said forlornly, but they could all see she really didn't mean it.

"You wouldn't mind?" Ocky said hopefully, but then he looked about at the others, and noted their looks of disapproval. "Of course you wouldn't mind for you are an angel, my darling," Ocky quickly recovered himself, "but I shall not leave you at Pickford with our heir so close to being born. What if there was a storm, and I couldn't return to be by your side? No, Sirena, we shall winter at Pickford together."

"Ohh, Ocky, that is so sweet," Sirena murmured happily.

After their meal the men decided to play at dice. The ladies insisted on being shown how to play.

"I am not certain that is a good idea," the Earl of Aston said.

"Afraid of losing to a lady, Marcus?" his wife murmured.

"Damnit, Eunice, there are some things a lady doesn't do," was the swift answer.

"Ladies play at gambling all the time," Allegra responded. "We play at cards, but this game you call Hazard looks like more fun."

"I thought you didn't like to gamble," Lord Walworth said.

"She doesn't, except among friends," his wife replied. "What is the harm, Adrian, in teaching us your little game?"

"Caroline!"

"Teach them," the duke said.

"What?" the earl cried. "You are encouraging this, Quint? You of all people?"

"I do not gamble for real stakes, and neither does my wife. I trust Allegra's good sense not to gamble with strangers, or for any real wager. I must assume that you trust your wives as well," the duke said.

"Bravo!" Caroline cried, and her female companions clapped.

The Earl of Aston laughed, and held up his hands. "I surrender, ladies. Very well, here is how you play the game. Hazard uses two dice. The caster who controls the dice throws until he, or she, scores five, six, seven, eight, or nine. Your first throw is called the main. Your second, which must equal the first cast, is called the chance. If your second throw equals your first then you have knicked it. If you throw crabs, which is a two, three, eleven, or twelve, you have thrown out, and lost. You must continue your play until you win or lose. It is simple enough."

Soon the Great Hall of Hunter's Lair was filled with noisy laughter as they all played Hazard. They made wagers such as a kiss, or a sip of port, or a sugar wafer. When Allegra suddenly realized that the tall clock in the hall had struck ten she called a halt to their game, reminding them of the time.

"What a wonderful evening," Caroline said enthusiastically. "We shall have such a grand time in London this winter. We really don't need any other friends but one another. And on our way home in March we shall all come to Pickford to pay our respects to the new heir, Sirena."

"And you will tell me of your adventures, and I shall be most envious. Ocky, we must not have another baby for at least two years."

They laughed, and hand in hand the four couples ascended the stairs once again to their bedchambers.

Chapter 12

Allegra celebrated her eighteenth birthday on December ninth with her husband, her father, and her stepmother, as well as Sirena, Ocky, George, and his wife, Melinda. Melinda chose the occasion to smugly announce that she was expecting a baby in midwinter.

"The gel might have picked another time for her little proclamation," murmured Lady Morgan to her husband. "I believe the wench has delusions of grandeur. I heard her say it was to be the next Sedgwick heir. The nerve of her! Allegra had best put a stop to that nonsense! The gel's mother has obviously been filling her head with all matter of silliness. I should not have thought Squire Franklyn's daughter such a bold baggage."

"Allegra will mother the next duke, my dear," Lord Morgan said quietly. "Are you not the mother of a fine family?"

Lady Morgan blushed prettily. "I am," she agreed.

"Then we shall not worry," Lord Morgan said.

The duke gave his wife a pretty cart, painted green and silver, along with a fat black and white pony to draw it. "You may not always want to ride about," he told her. "And if the weather is inclement, and you wish to go over to Pickford, the cart will do nicely."

"I shall have to go to Pickford now that Sirena is limited in her travels," Allegra said, putting an arm about her cousin. "Thank you for coming today, darling. You have suddenly popped and are showing your belly, Sirena. It is most becoming."

"Your godson is thriving," Sirena laughed. "Ohh, Allegra, I shall miss you this winter when you are in London."

"I'd be just as happy to remain here," Allegra said. "I don't really like the city, but Eunice and Caroline insist we come. We shall only remain a few weeks, I promise."

"Where will you stay?" Sirena asked.

"At Papa's house," Allegra answered. "It is foolish of us to purchase another house as Papa's will belong to us one day. Besides we like Berkley Square, and it is quite conveniently located."

Sirena laughed. "I wish I could go," she said. "You will have so much more fun than when we were debutantes, Allegra. We had to be so prim and proper then lest we spoil our chances for husbands. There is the theatre, Vauxhall Gardens, fetes, costume balls, opera, and the races! I will think of you when you are gone, cousin."

The Season always began in March or April, but ended by mid-June, when everybody who was anybody returned to their country estates and homes. A Little Season began in September, but by November the town was deserted again by the well-to-do. In January when Parliament began, many of the fashionables returned to town and the country was deadly dull. The duke and his three friends, who usually did not involve themselves in politics, had decided to attend the government session while they were in London. The Earl of Aston and Lord Walworth would be renting the old Earl of Pickford's house during their stay as he was not coming to Parliament this year in anticipation of his grandchild's birth. He wanted to be there when his next heir made his debut.

Allegra and the duke traveled to London in a large, comfortable traveling coach drawn by six horses. The interior of the vehicle was well padded, and it was well sprung. The seats were upholstered in a soft beige leather. Beneath each seat was a metal box for hot coals so that the coach might be heated. The heat escaped through a brass latticework at the bottom of each of the two benches. There were small crystal oil lamps, banded in silver, for light. The windows were glass, and could be raised or lowered depending upon the weather. The windows had cream-colored velvet curtains that could be drawn for privacy. The back of the seat facing the rear of the coach could be drawn down. It held its passengers' food and wine. The coachmen's box held two men. There was a bench behind the coach for two footmen. The top of the vehicle was deep enough and wide enough for a goodly supply of luggage.

The weather was so cold that even the duke would not ride outside, but remained within the coach with his wife. His vehicle was followed by a second carriage in which Honor, and the duke's valet, Hawkins, rode with the rest of the luggage. This auxiliary vehicle had but one driver, the second undercoachman. It would be his duty in London to oversee the stables and ducal transport while they were there.

While cold, the weather held, though it was gray and cloudy. They stopped for luncheon, and then for dinner and lodging at inns that were expecting them. They did not have to change horses because the animals were well cared for, and well rested each night. Allegra was very grateful for the hooded beaver-lined velvet cape her husband had given her for Christmas. She unashamedly wore several flannel petticoats beneath her skirt. This was no time to be fashionable, and besides, who was to know, she thought, as she snuggled into the dark green velvet of the fur-lined and -trimmed cape.

It took them several days to reach London, but when they did, the servants hurried from Morgan House to help them out of their coach and escort them into the house. Marker, the family butler, came forward, bowing, a smile upon his face.

"Welcome home, Your Grace," he said. "Your father is here, and will see you and His Grace in the library when you are settled."

"Papa! Ohh, let us go now," Allegra said, unfastening her voluminous cape and handing it off to a footman.

"Very well, my dear," the duke agreed. He hadn't thought his father-in-law would be here, but then why wouldn't he? It was his house, and he certainly always had business in London.

Septimius Morgan arose from his chair by the fire to greet his only child and her husband. "I shall not be with you long," he reassured them with a smile. "I am anxious to return home as soon as possible. Your stepmother hasn't felt well of late."

"What is the matter?" Allegra cried, a worried expression crossing her beautiful face.

"Nothing more, my child, than a winter ague," her father assured her with a smile. "How it pleases me that you love Olympia as I do." He indicated a settee opposite his chair, and the couple both sat. "How long do you plan to remain in town?" Lord Morgan inquired as he seated himself.

"Only a few weeks," the duke replied. "Our friends, Aston and Walworth, are also here with their wives. We plan to make a time of it, Septimius. We shall visit the opera, the theatre, perhaps even Vauxhall if there is something of note to see. I should also like to go to Tattersall's. While I have an excellent stud, I could use some good blooded mares to improve my stock. We will certainly be gone before The Season begins."

"Do you intend to take your place in the house, Quinton?" his father-in-law asked him.

"Yes, I think I should like to see what is going on right now," the duke answered.

"I have never asked you this," Lord Morgan said, "but are you a Tory, or a Whig?"

"I think I am a little of each, sir, which is why I do not visit Parliament too often," the duke responded with a small smile. "Nothing in this life is only black or white, Septimius. I cannot become enthusiastic over a political party and cleave only to it. Politics are made up of men, and men, I have learned, are quite fallible."

Now it was Lord Morgan's turn to smile. "You have married a wise man, my child," he told Allegra.

"And you, sir," the duke said. "Are you fish, or fowl?"

"Like you, Quinton, neither. A man in trade such as myself, even with a Lord before his name, cannot afford to take sides. I leave that to cleverer heads than mine, and those whose passions run higher."

The duke chuckled, and turned to his wife. "You have a devious and clever father, my darling."

"As long as the country is well run," Lord Morgan said, "I am content." He looked closely at his daughter, and what he saw pleased him greatly. Sirena had written that Allegra had fallen in love with her husband, who was already in love with her, but now that he saw it with his own eyes, he was happier. They had only been at Hunter's Lair overnight for his daughter's birthday, and he had had no real chance to observe the pair. Olympia would be delighted, for it was really she who had engineered the match with Lady Bellingham's aid.

"When will you leave us, Papa?" Allegra asked him.

"In two or three days, my child, but I am leaving Charles Trent behind to oversee my business. He will be a shadow, of course, but should you entertain, he will be an excellent extra gentleman for the table. He has offered to tuck in at my offices, but I said you would not hear of it."

"No, no," Allegra agreed. "He must remain here in his own rooms."

The next morning while her father and husband had gone off to the House of Lords, Allegra sat down with Charles Trent. "It will be expected that I give an at home," she said. "How long will it take to arrange the invitations? I assume you know to whom my cards should be sent? We do not intend to remain in London long, but I know that as the Duchess of Sedgwick I cannot come and not have an at home."

"The invitations are already engraved, Your Grace," Mr. Trent answered her. "It only remains for you to choose the day. Might I suggest the last day of February?"

"We intend leaving shortly afterward," Allegra said thoughtfully. "How ridiculous that we must give people a month's notice. Sirena and I went to several at homes last season. What a silly custom. You push into a huge crush of people, remain only fifteen minutes, and then leave. There is no food, no drink, no entertainment at all. And your levee is not considered a success at all unless at least one woman faints dead away, and the crowds are overwhelming. I do not see the point of it all. Still, it is the fashionable thing to do, and so I must. I would not want the gossips saying I was not worthy of my husband's name and title."

"I am inclined to agree with Your Grace on both counts," Mr. Trent said with a small smile. "It is ridiculous, but the gossips will indeed cry you are ill-bred if you do not do it. Shall we say the last day of February?"

"No, make it the twentieth, if it is not a Sunday," Allegra said. "Then at least we will have a pleasant final week in town."

"Very good, Your Grace," Mr. Trent answered.

"How odd to hear you call me that instead of Miss Allegra," she replied. "I am still not used to such grandeur, although here in London I suppose I must play the role to the hilt."

"Indeed you must," he advised her. "Wealth and position mean a great deal to most of the people with whom you will have to associate while you are in town, Your Grace. In one short season you have climbed from the bottom of the tree to the top of the tree. There will be many who still resent it, completely overlooking the fact that it is your wealth, and the duke's family, that have made you such a perfect match. You do, however, have an excellent friend in Lady Bellingham."

"Is she in town yet, Mr. Trent?"

"I believe she arrived with her husband several days ago."

"Please send her an invitation to tea tomorrow," Allegra instructed her father's personal secretary.

"Of course, Your Grace," Mr. Trent replied.

The duke and Lord Morgan returned from Parliament's opening late in the afternoon. Allegra had tea served in the smaller green drawing room. Marker set the large silver tray on a table before the young duchess, and then stepped back politely. Allegra poured the fragrant India tea into French Sèvres cups for her husband and her father, while a footman passed around the crystal plates holding bread and butter, and small cakes filled with fruit that had been iced with a white sugar icing.

"Was it interesting?" she asked the two men.

"There is a small visitors' gallery," her father said. "Any day that you and your friends would like to visit, I shall arrange it. Depending on what they choose to argue about makes it interesting, or else deadly dull. Today the king opened the session, and while colorful, it is usually quite boring. I must say the day lived up to its promise, eh, Quinton?" he finished, his eyes twinkling as he looked at his son-in-law.

"Indeed," the duke replied. "The Whigs are out of power right now, and seem to become more radical with each passing day. All they can talk about is reform, reform, reform. That usually involves taking from those who work hard, and giving it to those who do not. Since many of the more prominent Whigs are wealthy men, you can be certain they will not penalize themselves."

"But there is much poverty, especially here in the city," Allegra said. "I have seen it myself."

"You can be sure the government will do only what they are forced into to care for the poor," her father said dryly.

"But what about the Tories?" Allegra asked.

"They are more conservative," the duke replied. "They have, since their inception in the sixteen hundreds, favored the Stuarts, and opposed any attempts to deny our Roman Catholic citizens their rights. When King James II was overthrown in what the historians like to call the Glorious Revolution, and his daughter Mary came to England to rule with her Dutch husband, the Tories favored the Jacobite cause. But they were not averse to the Hanoverian succession after Queen Anne died. The Whigs, however, used the Tories' former Jacobite leanings against them. Tories were very neatly excluded from government by the first two Georges. The current Prime Minister, Mr. Pitt the younger, has changed all of that," the duke said.

"How?" Allegra asked her husband.

"Now, my pretty darling," the duke responded patting her cheek, "certainly you don't want to fill your pretty head with such stuff as politics."

Lord Morgan watched amused as he saw his daughter stiffen her spine, an irritated look crossing her pretty face, her eyes becoming hard with her annoyance.

"Quinton," she said in a soft, well-modulated voice, "if you do not answer my question, I shall smack you. If I were not interested, I should not have asked. Surely you know better by now than to classify me with those silly creatures who flutter about our world giggling, and fluttering their eyelashes and swooning at the drop of a hat."

At first startled by his wife's suggestion of violence, the duke then recovered and said, "Mr. Pitt has done many good things for England, Allegra. He managed to place the East India Company under government control, which is much better for trade. He has tried to ease the problems in the Canadian colony, which as you certainly know is peopled by both English and French colonists. He did this by dividing it into Lower Canada, which is predominantly peopled by the French, and Upper Canada, which is English speaking. He has reduced customs duties which has undoubtedly been of great help to your papa's business ventures. He has established a sinking fund, which takes a percentage of the government's revenues, and uses it to pay off the government's debts. Not all of it, of course, but some. Of course the trick is to keep the politicians from using the sinking funds for other purposes instead of the ones that they're intended to cover.

"Mr. Pitt the younger was quite committed to parliamentary reform, but he has put it aside in the wake of what is happening in France. He has also, due to the difficulties in France, suspended the writ of Habeas Corpus, but you wouldn't know what that was, Allegra, would you?"

"It is a law requiring anyone detaining another individual to produce that person in a court of law within a specified period of time, and to furnish reasons for the detention then. I believe the law was first written in the sixteenth century. It has been revised somewhat over the years, but it is basically the same now as it was then, except that originally it was only used for criminal charges, and now it is used for civil charges as well. Habeas Corpus was suspended during the Jacobite uprisings at the beginning and middle of this century. Is that the Habeas Corpus you are referring to, my lord husband?" Allegra smiled sweetly.

"Did you let her study the law, Septimius?" the surprised duke asked his father-in-law, but then he began to laugh. "What other surprises have you in store for me, my darling?" he asked.

"Now, that, sir, would spoil all my fun," Allegra responded pertly, and she laughed, too.

Lady Bellingham came to tea two days later, and was delighted to find her niece and the young Countess of Aston had been invited as well. "What, Caroline, you are in town, and did not call upon me?" she demanded of Lady Walworth.

"We have not even settled in yet, Aunt," was the quick reply.

"Where are you staying? Has Walworth rented a place, for I know he has no house of his own," came the next question.

"Adrian and Marcus Bainbridge have rented the old Earl of Pickford's house, Aunt. Sirena is breeding, and could not travel, so they have no use for the house in London this winter."

"An excellent address," Lady Bellingham responded. "Well, what is it that you three intend to do in London?"

"We mean to sightsee," Allegra said, "and visit all the places like Vauxhall, that a proper debutante could not go to without fear of ruining her reputation, Lady Bellingham."

"Be careful you don't ruin your reputations now, my gels," Lady Bellingham said sharply. "Marriage is not a blanket license to run wild. You don't want to follow in the Duchess of Devonshire's footsteps. Why the gossip about her is outrageous, but true, I fear. She is in debt up to her pretty ears, I am told. Loses thousands each night at cards and in the gambling halls where ladies are not supposed to go. Most shocking!"

"I certainly do not gamble," Allegra replied. "Oh do try some of the salmon, Lady Bellingham."

"Salmon? Why, m'dear, 'tis an especial favorite of mine," Lady Bellingham said, helping herself to a small rectangle of buttered bread with an equally small sliver of pink salmon upon it. "Delicious!" she pronounced. "But I am too clever an old fox to be wheedled off the subject, Allegra. What is it exactly that you young women intend doing?"

"We really have come to sightsee, Aunt," Caroline, Lady Walworth assured her elder. "And there is the theatre, and the opera since Allegra and Quinton don't gamble, and as neither Walworth nor Bainbridge have the ready for such high stakes as here in London."

"You are wise, my gels, for the gambling is entirely out of hand thanks to Prinny and his friends. Fortunes are made and lost in a single night. Many lives have been ruined. Prinny and his friends may mock the king, but he is a good man who has set a good Christian example for us all. What a pity his son cannot follow it, especially now that he is a father himself. I would not come to London at all nowadays but that Bellingham must attend Parliament. How he loves his politics, and, of course, Mr. Pitt is such a fine man."

"You would not prefer to remain in the country, and let my uncle come up alone?" Caroline asked mischievously.

"Gracious, child," her aunt exclaimed. "One should never allow ahusband to come up to London alone. Much too much temptation for a gentleman, even the best of them. There are women, not the kind we would associate with, I assure you, just looking for unaccompanied gentlemen like my poor gullible Freddie, to take advantage of, and fleece. No! No! As long as Frederick Bellingham wants to come up to Parliament, I shall be at his side, I can assure you." She helped herself to another bit of salmon.

"Poor uncle," Caroline murmured softly to her friends who struggled not to giggle. They all knew that old Lord Bellingham, a rather charming gentleman, was under the firm control of his forceful wife whom he simply adored.

The cards had been sent out for the Duchess of Sedgwick's at home, and the responses were pouring in each day. No one was going to miss the opportunity to see how the duke and his bride were getting on after three months of marriage. They all thought it rather odd that their society wedding planned for St. George's in Hanover Square had been changed to the family chapel, or wherever it had been, at Hunter's Lair. Why on earth had they done that? Was the duchess enceinte? But then she couldn't be if they were in London. It was a most aggravating mystery.

Prinny, of course, had arrived at Hunter's Lair with young Mr. Brummell. Usually Brummell had something caustic to say about everyone, but he had nothing but praise for the duchess's exquisite taste, the wonderful house, and the obviously contented couple. It was all just too annoying, but now they should see the truth of it. After all, blue-blooded Sedgwick had only wed the Morgan chit for her fortune. They all knew it, and he even admitted to it last season. It was a marriage of convenience, nothing more, whatever Brummell saw.

Allegra was fascinated by the London she now saw. Last spring her whole time had been spent on seeking and finding a husband. Her movements were carefully monitored and watched. She could only come or go in a prescribed manner. Now, however, she and her two friends were able to go about town in one another's company while their husbands visited the Parliament and their clubs. Each evening they all met for dinner, or some form of entertainment. They played Whist together; sang accompanying each other on the piano; enacted out charades, the ladies against the gentlemen.

Allegra, Caroline, and Eunice, in the company of Lady Bellingham, visited Westminster Abbey one morning. It was a great Gothic structure of French design with wonderful stained glass windows and gray stone buttresses. The interior was made up of chapels, naves, tombs, and monuments. King William the Norman had been crowned here. The Coronation Chair which had been made for King Edward I was brought into the abbey in the year 1272. It had been used at all the coronations that had followed. The tombs were legion, and very impressive. There was the one belonging to St. Edward the Confessor, as well as Edward III and young Edward VI. There was the tomb of Henry III and the first Tudor king, Henry VII. Richard II had his tomb in the abbey, as did Mary, Queen of Scots, her son, James I, and his grandson, Charles II. The second Hanover king, George II, was buried in the enormous church. And there were famous women as well: Eleanor of Castile, Anne of Cleves, Queen Mary II, and her sister, Queen Anne.

The marble and the stonework were extremely impressive. The colorful stained glass windows almost brought tears to Allegra's eyes. It was early afternoon before they realized it, and left reluctantly, having gained a new sense of their country's history and its importance in the world in which they lived.

On another day, bundled up in their furs, they visited the Tower of London with its colorful Beefeater Guards in their red, black, and gold uniforms. The royal menagerie was located here, but it was not particularly impressive right now, consisting only of a moth-eaten ancient tiger, a toothless grizzly bear, an Indian elephant, and several peacocks. Allegra was more interested in the Tower Green where two of Henry VIII's wives had been beheaded.

"What a horrid fate!" Caroline said.

"I heard they betrayed the king," Eunice replied. "They deserved it if that was the case."

"In Anne Boleyn's case the charges were probably trumped up as the king had an eye out for his next wife, Queen Jane, who mothered his son. Poor Anne miscarried two sons and only produced her daughter, Elizabeth, who, of course, went on to become England's greatest queen."

"What about the other wife?" Eunice asked.

"Catherine Howard was Anne Boleyn's cousin. She wasn't very smart, and was, so I have read, a trollop who was no better than she ought to be. The king adored her, which made her betrayal of him with a lover all the worse to stomach. In fact, he didn't."

"You are quite learned," Caroline said. "How is it you are so well educated when most of us are not?"

"I studied with my brother and his tutor," Allegra explained. "Then when James Lucian went off to school, Papa allowed the tutor to remain to teach me even more."

"Wasn't it rather dull?" Eunice inquired.

"Not at all," Allegra assured her. "I liked it. A woman should really know more than how to paint pretty watercolors and play the piano while she sings. If I had not married Quinton I should have been quite capable of carrying on my own life without a husband."

"You are very brave," Caroline said. "Far braver than I am, I will admit it honestly. I am so glad that Dree and I suit. I should not like to be without a husband."

"Nor I," Eunice noted. "I adore my Marcus, and it is quite a great deal of fun to be the Countess of Aston. Don't you like being the Duchess of Sedgwick, Allegra?"

"I like it quite well," Allegra said, "but if Quinton and I had not made a match of it, I should not weep and wail." A gust of icy wind off the river blew her fur-trimmed hood back, and Allegra shivered. "Let us go home, and have tea," she suggested. "We are going to the theatre tonight."

"I wish it were warm enough to visit Vauxhall," Caroline said as they hurried from the Tower of London to their waiting coach.

"Probably next month before we go," Eunice remarked.

"Where did the gentlemen go today:¹" Caroline asked.

"The cockfights," Eunice remarked. "Disgusting!"

The other two nodded their heads in agreement.

"Last week Dree asked me if I wanted to go to Newgate with him to see a hanging," Caroline said, shuddering. "He brought me back a printed leaflet, a biography of the criminal hanged. There was a line drawing of the fellow. He was very young, but he was a highwayman."

"Quinton says he would like me to come to Tattersall's when he purchases the new mares," Allegra told them.

"Ohh, that would be fun," Caroline replied. "May we come, too? I could use a new mare, and my birthday is coming up," she finished with a wicked smile.

"You speak to Adrian then," Allegra said, "and let him ask Quinton. It will be a question of two men buying horses then, and not an entertainment for us. Quinton is very serious about these purchases, and I can certainly understand his point. His stud is a magnificent beast, and has already sired several fine racers on less than distinguished stock. With really fine mares what will he do? We shall have the most sought after racers in all of England," Allegra said proudly, and her friends smiled.

Jt had begun to rain-an icy rain-when Allegra arrived home. Her two friends had decided to return to Pickford House rather than stop for tea. The big house was quiet. Mr. Trent was nowhere in evidence. He really was the epitome of discretion. Her father, of course, had already returned to Morgan Court.

"Good afternoon, Your Grace," Marker said, coming forward to take her cape.

"Has his lordship come home?" Allegra asked the butler.

"He is in his rooms, Your Grace. Hawkins says he has caught a bit of a chill at the cockfights."

"Have tea brought up to my apartments," Allegra instructed Marker, and then she hurried up the stairs. She found her husband soaking in her tub, and smiled. "Boys will be boys," she greeted him. "You did not wear a hat this morning, did you, my lord?"

"Do not scold, my darling," he replied, and then he sneezed.

"What are you doing in my tub?" she demanded.

"I was chilled to the bone, Allegra," he answered, and sneezed again. "Damned cock ring was out of the city, and in the open."

"Hawkins, get your master out of the tub," Allegra instructed the valet. "Dry him thoroughly, and we'll tuck him into bed. My bed. Honor, there is tea being brought up. Get a warming pan, and warm the sheets, and I'll want another down coverlet. Really, Quinton, and we were to go to the theatre tonight. I'll send around a footman to tell Dree and Marcus we shall not be coming this time."

"You can go," he told her. "There can be no gossip if you are in the company of friends," he told her.

"Do not be ridiculous," Allegra said sharply. "I am not the Duchess of Devonshire to appear socially in public without my husband at my side. Hawkins, where is the duke's nightshirt?" Then seeing it, Allegra snatched it up herself, and dropped it over his head. "Get into bed, Quinton, before you are really sick. With luck we shall have you cured by the morrow."

Honor had gotten the brass warming pan and was taking the chill from the sheets so that the duke might get into bed. When she had finished she said, "You'll want the supper upstairs tonight." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Allegra said shortly. "Nothing heavy, tell cook." She helped her husband into their bed, and put a nightcap upon his dark head. "We'll try and undo what you have done, Quinton."

"You are harder than my old nurse," the duke said. "I did not know you could be such a scold, madame."

"After dinner, sir, I shall punish you properly," Allegra murmured softly.

"Will you keep me warm, then, madame?" he murmured back, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Very warm," she promised him, and then she kissed his lips. "Now," she straightened up, "I must go and send a note around to Pickford House to tell the others we are not coming. Drink some tea. It will help to warm you up."

He caught her hand for a moment. "I do not mind that we are to have an evening alone, my darling," the duke told her. Then, turning the hand over, he kissed its palm ardently.

Allegra colored, then smiled. "Neither do I, Quinton. Next winter we need not come up to London. By the time we go home to Hunter's Lair we will have tasted all its pleasures, and not need to come back at all until our daughters come for their seasons."

"We have no daughters," he reminded her.

"We will… eventually," she promised him. "Now let me go so I can send my note off to Pickford House."

"I don't think I can ever let you go, Allegra," her husband told her.

"To be loved as you love me is sometimes overpowering," she answered him, and then taking her hand back, hurried off.

Quinton Hunter lay back against the lavender-scented pillows. Her words rang in his head. To be loved as you love me is sometimes overpowering. And she loved him back. Passionately in his arms, but with words Allegra was more reserved. He hoped one day she would not be. It was his own personal weakness, although he would never admit to it, that he needed to hear her voicing her love for him. He closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he had been ill. He was going to enjoy being taken care of by his beautiful wife.

Allegra had left her bedchamber where her husband lay. She passed through her salon, and hurried downstairs to the small family drawing room. "Fetch Hawkins to me," she told an attending footman, and when the duke's valet came she said, "Was the duke wearing flannel drawers today, Hawkins?"

"No, Your Grace," the valet replied. He could see that the duchess was in a fine fettle.

"In future you will see that His Grace is dressed properly for the winter weather, Hawkins, which means his hat as well. If he complains at you you will say that I have given you your orders. Is that understood?" She looked hard at the valet.

"Yes, Your Grace," he replied.

"You are dismissed," Allegra told the valet.

Hawkins departed the room, and as he did he ran into Marker. "Her's got a good temper on her, eh, Marker. You must have been given the back of her tongue many times, her growing up in this house."

"Her Grace is generous of heart, and sweet-natured most of the time," Marker replied stiffly. He thought the valet presumptuous to say the least. "If she has chastised you then it is because you deserved it. I understand the duke has returned home with a chill. Obviously he was not warmly enough dressed by you this morning. You had best watch your place, Hawkins. There are those who would be eager to serve His Grace if you cannot."

"Tough old bird, ain't he?" Hawkins heard behind him, and turned about to see Honor standing there.

"I've had two dressings-down in a very short time," Hawkins said sourly. "For a lass with no background so to speak, your mistress is a proper Tartar, Honor."

"You watch your mouth, Hawkins," Honor said, suddenly angry. "I'll hear naught against my lady. You didn't do your duty."

"He don't like flannel drawers," Hawkins said stubbornly, "and I can't make him wear a hat if he don't want to. I'm his valet, not his ma."

"You have your orders from Her Grace," Honor warned him. "The duke will obey if you tell him she says it. He loves her something fierce."

"I'd like to love you," Hawkins said slyly to Honor.

"When you do your duty better," Honor said, "we'll see if I let you walk out with me."

"Didn't say nothing about walking out," Hawkins replied.

"Then you'll not be loving me. I'm a proper girl, Hawkins, and best you understand that right now," Honor answered him. Then with a flounce of her skirts she was off.

In the little drawing room Allegra wrote her note to Caroline and Eunice. She dispatched it with a footman, and returned upstairs to where her husband lay. Supper was brought. Cook had followed the duchess's instructions. There was a thick, rich soup which Allegra fed to her husband, sitting on the side of the bed as she spooned it into his mouth. Then she coaxed him to eat a bit of capon with some bread and butter. And finally the cook had provided a silken egg custard that the duke very much enjoyed. And when her husband had been fed, Allegra sat down at a small table and ate her own supper as Quinton watched, slowly sipping a glass of ruby port as he did so.

A footman came, and cleared the dishes away. Then Honor helped her mistress to prepare for her bed. When she was washed and in her nightgown and cap, Allegra dismissed her maidservant for the night. Wrapping a lacy shawl about herself she sat down by the fire.

"Come to bed," the duke said softly.

"Shortly," she replied.

"Why do you sit by the fire?" he asked her.

"So I may have the privacy to say my prayers," Allegra responded. "I pray each morning and each evening, Quinton."

"Who taught you to do that?" he wondered aloud. "You had no mother."

"Papa taught me. He said that one day I would have children of my own, and it would be my duty to teach them to pray to our creator. Didn't your mama teach you and George to pray before she died?"

"I think I remember her with me, but George was too young," he replied.

For several minutes the room was silent but for the crackle of the fire. Finally Allegra arose, and snuffing out all the candles in her bedchamber climbed into bed next to her husband. "There," she told him, snuggling into his arms.

"What do you pray for?" he asked her, curious.

"For us. For you. For our family. For children," she said. "We must strive harder, Quinton, for our children."

"Madame, I am more than willing to answer your prayers," he said with mock seriousness.

She giggled. "Do not be sacrilegious," she tried to scold, but she suddenly found herself being kissed as he cradled her beneath him. "Ohh, Quinton!" She sighed, and kissed him back fervently.

Lilacs. She always smelled of lilacs, and it intoxicated him. His hand caressed her heart-shaped face. "Whatever made me believe I would not fall in love with you, Allegra? How could I not love you, my darling?" His silvery-gray eyes devoured her. "I have learned that I could not live without you, Allegra. You have become the very reason for my existence." His lips descended upon hers again, and he felt her melting into his arms. His fingers undid the ribbons on her nightgown's neck, loosening it, and his hand slipped between the fabric and her skin as he moved to cup one of her small breasts in his palm. He fondled her, and felt her heart beat more quickly.

She loved him, Allegra thought as his hand aroused her passions. Oh yes, she loved him, but when she tried to tell him she could not quite manage the words. Oh, she had said it to him once, but she wanted to tell him more, except her tongue became tangled. He could not live without her? She could not live without him. She could not even imagine her life without Quinton Hunter. Allegra pushed her thoughts aside, and concentrated on the wonderful feelings that he could kindle within her. She sighed, and moved against him, letting him know that she loved everything that he was doing to her, and that she wanted more. For a moment she struggled from his embrace, and pulled off her nightgown and cap. Then she lay back against their pillows, her look inviting.

He responded in kind, drawing his own nightshirt off, then leaned forward to kiss her adorable breasts. One hand kneaded her while his mouth attached itself over the other nipple and he suckled. She writhed and murmured beneath him, stoking his passions until he knew exactly what he wanted from her tonight. Something he had never dared to do with her, but he needed to initiate her completely into this passion. Raising his dark head from her milky white breasts he said, "I don't want you to be afraid, Allegra." Then his head dropped again and he began to kiss her body.

His lips moved slowly, slowly over her torso. Sometimes his tongue snaked out to lick at her warm flesh. She murmured with pleasure. The dark head moved lower and lower down her lush young body. He cupped her dark mont in his palm. The thick dark curls were soft against his palm. Releasing her from the intimate grip he fingered her nether lips, teasing, and playing with her until she began to squirm slightly and grow moist beneath his touch. The ball of his forefinger found the tiny bud of her sex. He caressed it until she was moaning aloud. He slid his large body down until he was firmly between her open thighs.

"Quinton?" Her voice registered fear.

"Don't be afraid, Allegra," he pleaded, and then leaning forward he began to tongue that quivering little nub of flesh.

Her body arced up in shock, but he held her tightly so she could not escape him. She was at first scandalized by what he was doing. She had never in her wildest imaginings conceived that this… this was part of passion. And yet she very quickly decided that she liked it. Oh yes! She liked it very much. Her body quivered. That tiny part of her that she hadn't really known existed tingled and tingled until it seemed to burst into a blanket of deliciousness that covered her and left her weak and breathless. "Oh, please," she murmured helplessly.

He pulled himself up, covering her trembling form, and slowly pushed himself into her love sheath. "God, Allegra," he groaned. "I want you so desperately!"

He was so hard, she thought. She could feel each stroke of his manhood with every fiber of her being. She felt herself tightening about his lance, trying to keep him from leaving her. "Don't stop!" she begged him. "Ohh, Quinton, I want you so very much!" Her nails dug into his muscled shoulders, and she pushed her tongue into his ear. Her legs wrapped themselves tightly about his straining form. "Ohhh, sweet! Sweet!" she cried as they together approached nirvana.

"Ahh, you precious witch, you have unmanned me!" he told her as his boiling tribute poured forth, and they collapsed together in a tangle of arms and legs. They lay still entwined for several long minutes amid the wreckage of their bedclothes, their breathing finally slowing and calming. And then the duke sneezed.

"Oh, lord." Allegra scrambled from their bed, and grabbed up his nightshirt. "Put this on, Quinton, else I kill you with my love." She caught up her own night garment and quickly pulled it over herself.

He began to laugh as he complied with her order.

"What is so funny?" she demanded, climbing back into the bed, and pulling the covers up over them.

"I am so damned happy," Quinton Hunter told her. "A year ago when the four of us decided we must find wives and finally settle down, my darling Allegra, I never imagined, no, I never even dared to hope that I should be this happy. I have never been happier in my whole life, and it is all due to you, my darling. It is all due to you."

"You are a fool, Quinton," she told him, but her own heart was soaring with happiness.

"I love you," he said. "And you love me."

"I suppose I do," she grudgingly admitted.

He laughed again. "Say it, you adorable witch! Say you love me, and you will never love anyone else but me."

"I do, and I won't," she teased him mischievously.

"Say it, damnit." He rolled over to face her, his look fierce.

Her heart melted then and there. "I love you, Quinton Hunter, and I always will," she said softly. "I expected a comfortable arrangement and a mutual respect. I never expected to know this phenomenon that is called love. I still don't understand it, but I seem to love you dearly, Quinton. Now are you satisfied, and will you go to sleep before you become truly sick?"

"Yes, Duchess," he said, and then taking her hand in his, he finally fell asleep.