The Duchess

Chapter 13

The day had arrived for Allegra's at home reception. Not one of the two thousand invitations that had been sent out had been refused. Allegra was relieved that it was midwinter, for if it had been the height of the season, she might have had double or triple the acceptances. People were expected to come, remain for fifteen minutes, no more, and leave their cards if they could not personally manage to greet the duke and the duchess, which most would not. Since no refreshments or music would be required, there would be little preparation except for the tall footed columns with their urns of flowers scattered about the gracious foyer and public rooms. Roses and sweetstock, lilies, tulips, narcissus, iris, and daffodils, all brought up from Lord Morgan's greenhouses in the country. The arrangements were lush and colorful.

The Earl and Countess of Aston, in the company of Lord and Lady Walworth, had arrived early. Quinton Hunter was recovered from his chill, which had required several days of intense nursing on his wife's part to resolve. And during that time they had remained in the house, keeping to themselves while their meals were brought to them.

"Will you be well enough for the theatre this evening?" Marcus Bainbridge, the Earl of Aston, asked his old friend.

"We were beginning to be seriously worried," Adrian, Lord Walworth said. "I've never in all the years of our friendship known you to be sick more than overnight, Quint."

"Allegra took wonderful care of me," the duke said with a smile in his wife's direction, and a wink to his friends.

"Why you devil," the earl chuckled. "Just how sick were you?"

"Not very," Quinton Hunter said, "but Allegra was so enjoying nursing me, I hated to spoil her fun."

"Or your own," Lord Walworth replied with a grin.

Allegra had taken a great deal of care with her gown today. She knew her appearance and the house would be the focus of the gossip that would follow her reception. Her gown was relatively simple as this was an afternoon gathering, but rather than the usual white, Allegra had decided to be both bold and original. The bodice of her dress was gathered, and of pale lilac silk brocade. Its neckline was most fashionably low, and edged with a teasing lace ruffle. The silk sleeves had pale lace oversleeves dyed to match the bodice. The bouffant skirt was of lilac and cream striped silk. Its hemline was just off the ground. The waist of the gown was short, and tied with a deep violet velvet sash. Her low-sided violet silk slippers had small jeweled bows on each toe. Her hair, which had been piled upon her head, was a mass of mahogany ringlets decorated with bejeweled cream-colored bows. She wore pearls in her ears, and her wedding pearls with its diamond heart lying upon her chest, its tip pointing to her décolletage.

The duke wore gray pantaloons to the knee with snow-white stockings. His shoes were black and had silver buckles. His coat was dove gray, his shirt and stock white. His black hair was cut short. A quizzing glass hung from a narrow gold chain about his neck.

Allegra had hoped that the guests would arrive slowly, but everyone was so anxious to meet the Duchess of Sedgwick that it would seem they all came exactly at the hour of three o'clock. Berkley Square was filled with carriages that circled about it dropping off their passengers, and then continuing to circle until they could be picked up again. This made it difficult for more carriages to get into the square, and some of the guests exited their vehicles and walked, only to have to wait in line to get into the house.

The duke and duchess, seated in the main drawing room of the house, greeted those guests who could reach them. Mr. Brummell casually pushed his way past the line of guests snaking up the wide staircase of Morgan House, and entered the salon.

"Duke," he said, greeting Quinton Hunter, and then he turned to Allegra. "My dear duchess, you are a succès fou once again. You know how much I both admire and appreciate originality. Your gown is a triumph! I am pleased to see you make your own fashion rather than stooping to the bad taste of others." He bowed to her, and kissed her hand.

"As do you, Mr. Brummell. You have a new haircut, I see. It is deliciously becoming. What is it called?" Allegra asked him.

"À la Brummell," he replied dryly. "Do you really like it? It isn't too short?"

"For someone else, perhaps, but not for you. You have such an elegant head, Mr. Brummell," Allegra told him.

"And here in England it will remain upon my shoulders," he chortled. "Good day, Duchess." He bowed again, and then moved off.

"He has such exquisite manners," Allegra murmured to her husband.

"He is a fop," Quinton growled back. "And I didn't like his hairdo. I will admit, however, black evening clothes are damned smart."

"We won't have to worry once we are back in the country," she reminded him with a small smile.

It was well past six o'clock in the evening when the doors to Morgan House were closed to visitors.

"Let us not go to the theatre tonight," Allegra pleaded with her friends. "We can go tomorrow night. Besides, the curtain has already risen anyway. I hate to miss the opening."

"Only if you agree to give us a decent tea," the Countess of Aston said, and she sat back upon a silk settee, kicking her slippers off.

"Marker," Allegra called. "Tea."

"At once, Your Grace," the butler answered as he hurried off.

"Did the Duchess of Devonshire come?" Eunice asked.

"She never made it up the stairs, but here is her card," Allegra said gleefully. "I'm amazed she came at all. She is up until dawn gambling. One wonders when she sleeps."

"I saw Mr. Pitt the younger," Caroline said excitedly. "He did manage to get into your drawing room."

"He is very nice," Allegra recalled. "But, Caro, where was your aunt? Lady Bellingham accepted my invitation, and it isn't like her not to come to such a levee. I know she wouldn't have missed it for the world. All of society is in town now, and the gossip to be had is quite marvelous."

"No," Caroline admitted. "It isn't like Aunt to miss such a gathering. I cannot imagine what has happened to her."

"Perhaps I should send a footman around to make certain that she is all right," Allegra suggested, and then she did just that.

Marker brought the tea. He was followed into the room by several young footmen carrying large silver trays. Upon one were the tea sandwiches. Salmon with a sharp moutarde dressing, thinly sliced cucumber, roast beef, cheese, delicate breast of capon, and precisely cut slices of bread and butter. A second tray contained freshly baked scones, bowls of clotted Devonshire cream, and strawberry conserves. A third silver tray held the desserts. There were thinly sliced pieces of fruitcake, dark, rich, and filled with raisins. There were tarts of lemon, raspberry, and apricot; a caramel custard; and the duke's favorite, Genovese cake with its coffee cream filling.

Allegra poured the tea from a large silver pot into dainty Sevres cups while the footmen passed about plates of sandwiches, scones, and desserts. They gossiped about this afternoon's at home, and what people had worn, and who came. Even the gentlemen joined in enthusiastically. They were almost sated with tea when the footman returned from the Bellingham house.

"You have no message for me?" Allegra demanded, seeing that he carried nothing in his gloved hand.

"I was told to tell Your Grace," the footman began, "that his lordship received a letter from foreign parts this morning that has quite upset both him and her ladyship. They send their be-be-belated," he declared triumphantly, "apologies." Then the footman bowed to the duchess.

"Thank you," Allegra said. "There was nothing more?"

"Nothing, Your Grace."

"You are dismissed," Allegra told the footman. She turned to Caroline Walworth. "Who lives abroad that might send a letter that would distress your aunt and uncle so greatly?"

Caroline thought for several long moments, and then she said, "Uncle Freddie had a younger brother who married a French lady, but other than that I know nothing."

"Then we must go at once to Lady Bellingham and learn how we may help her," Allegra said. "She has been so kind, and good to all of us. How can we not at least try to repay that goodness?"

Everyone agreed, and so capes and cloaks were brought, as the carriages were advised to stand ready before the house. The six young people hurried out, entering their vehicles which set off through the dark London streets. The traffic was light as it was that time between the theatre and any formal dinners or parties to be held. Lord and Lady Bellingham lived but two squares over on Traleigh Square. The butler opening the door to their house looked quite surprised, for he had not been told that there were to be guests tonight. Then he saw Lady Caroline Walworth, his mistress's niece.

"Tell my aunt we have come to learn how we may help," Caroline instructed the butler as the single footman on duty struggled to take all of their outdoor garments.

"At once, m'lady" the butler replied as he showed them into the main drawing room.

They sat and waited in silence until the door opened and Lady Bellingham came into the drawing room. They were all shocked by the good woman's appearance, for she was drawn and pale. It was obvious she had been crying most of the day as her eyes were puffy and red. She was dressed in a housegown, and her hair disheveled. It was as if she had not prepared for her day at all. "Ohh, my dears, how good of you to come," Lady Bellingham said, and then she burst into fresh tears.

"Aunt, what is the matter?" Caroline cried, going to her relation, and putting her arms about her.

"It is your cousin, the Comtesse d'Aumont," Lady Bellingham managed to say before she wept again.

"I have a cousin who is a French countess?" Caroline said, bemused.

"Come, dear Lady Bellingham, and sit down." Allegra began taking charge of the situation as it was obvious no one else was going to do so. "Quinton, a sherry for the poor woman." She drew the older lady to a settee and sat down next to her. "Here, drink this. You must calm yourself, Lady Bellingham," Allegra continued. "Whatever the problem is, you will not solve it by weeping. If we are to help then we must know what is troubling you."

"Ohh, my child, I do not think anyone can help us," Lady Bellingham said, but she nonetheless sipped her sherry until she felt a bit more at peace with herself, and able to speak.

The others sat down about her, and waited patiently.

Finally the distraught lady was able to begin. "My husband," she began, "has two younger brothers. Caroline's father as you know is the rector of St. Anne's Church down at Bellinghamton. It is a modest living, but one that allowed him and his family to be comfortable. The youngest brother, Robert Bellingham, had the good fortune to marry a Frenchwoman. She was the only daughter of the Comte de Montroi, and he doted upon her. Consequently her dowry portion was very generous on the provision she and her husband remain in France. With nothing in England for him, Robert Bellingham saw no reason not to remain in his bride's homeland. So they were married. I remember going to France for the wedding. It was thirty-five years ago. We never even got to Paris, for Robert's wife, Marie-Claire, lived in Normandy." She stopped a moment to sip the remainder of her sherry, and then held out her little glass to the duke for more. He complied silently.

"A year after the marriage they had a little girl who was baptized Anne-Marie. Sadly there were no more children. Anne-Marie was married when she was eighteen to the Comte d'Aumont, a neighbor. She is some years your senior, Caroline, which is why you have never met. Robert and his family were quite content to be country folk as were Anne-Marie and her husband. They have never been to England, and Robert never returned after he married.

"When Anne-Marie was twenty her parents were killed in a carriage accident. The shock caused her to miscarry a child, but the following year she bore her husband a daughter, whom she named after her mama; and then two years later, a son, Jean, after her husband, and Robert, after her papa." Lady Bellingham swallowed down some more sherry, then continued.

"They lived happily for some years, but then fifteen months ago the Comte d'Aumont was caught up in the Reign of Terror, and guillotined. It was a terrible accident of fate that it ever happened. He was in Paris. An old friend had been detained by the Committee for Public Safety. Jean-Claude had gone to his aid. The comte was, you see, a Republican himself. He believed in the Revolution, but when he visited his friend in prison to see how he might help he, too, was arrested. It was so naive of him to have gone, but he truly trusted in reform, although how he could after the murders of King Louis and his wife I do not understand. He was a kind man, I am told." She sniffled into her handkerchief.

"Anne-Marie and her husband were very much like our own country people despite their aristocratic backgrounds. They were kind to their tenants, and when the harvest was bad they never demanded their rent, but rather helped to feed their people. They are loved in their village of St. Jean Baptiste. After her husband was killed we begged our niece to come to England where she and her children would be safe until this horror is over, however it ends; but Anne-Marie is all French despite her English father. Her little son Jean-Robert is now the Comte d'Aumont. His lands are all he has. Anne-Marie is afraid if she leaves those lands, they will be taken away from the family. So she has stayed, and now this!" Lady Bellingham broke into fulsome sobs again.

"What?" Allegra asked her gently. "What has happened?"

"Our niece is under house arrest. The local revolutionary authorities are threatening to take her children away from her!" wailed Lady Bellingham.

Now the Duke of Sedgwick found himself drawn into this tale of woe. He knelt before the distraught woman and said quietly, "How is it that you know this, Lady Bellingham? How has the information come to your attention and that of your husband?"

"My niece lives near the coast," Lady Bellingham explained. "One of her servants took Anne-Marie's letter to a cousin who is a fisherman. The fisherman brought it across the water, and gave it to a fish merchant he knows who was coming up to London, with instructions that the fishmonger would be rewarded if he delivered the letter to us immediately. Freddie gave him a whole guinea!"

"How long did it take for this letter to reach you?" the duke said. "Did your niece date her missive?"

"She wrote but five days ago," Lady Bellingham said. Then she turned her tearstained face to the duke. "Ohh, Quinton, you must help us! You must go and fetch Anne-Marie and her children from the dreadful people in France!"

"You said she would not come," Allegra reminded the older lady. "You said she didn't want her son to lose his inheritance."

"She will come now, child, I am certain of it. She sees the futility of trying to hold on to her son's estate. Whoever has sought to have her placed under house arrest and steal her children away means to destroy the d'Aumonts, and have what is theirs. Anne-Marie is helpless before such an enemy. She is a country wife and has no influence with the authorities." She burst into fulsome tears once again, her shoulders shaking with her grief.

Caroline rushed now to comfort her aunt while Allegra and her husband stepped aside.

"Why," Allegra asked her husband, "did she ask you to rescue her niece and her children, Quinton?"

"Three years ago when the terror began, Ocky, Dree, Marcus, and I rescued a friend in Paris. It began as a lark. We knew Harry was in Paris visiting distant cousins. Then came word he had been arrested with those cousins. He had managed to get word out of prison because he was English, and had the ready to pay bribes. His family was all atwitter, and didn't know how to proceed. His father kept blustering that the Froggies had no right to arrest an English citizen, but there was poor Harry incarcerated, and a tumbrel's ride away from Madame la Guillotine. So we sailed Marcus's yacht across the channel, rented horses, and rode up to Paris.

"There, with supreme arrogance so common to us English, we went to the prison and demanded to see the governor of the facility. Marcus and Dree had brought a little money, and Ocky had just gotten his allowance from his father for the term. We threw money around as if we actually possessed it, but for me. My French is said to be peerless, and so I did the talking when the governor of the prison appeared. I explained that Lord Harry Carew was a wayward but beloved cousin of the English king who had sent us to request his return. And all the while I talked I kept jiggling this velvet bag in my hand. It jingled quite convincingly. As we anticipated, the governor was greedy.

"He could," he said, "release the unimportant Anglais to us for a small price. No, said I. We wanted the Englishman and his relations unless, of course, they were criminals. The governor considered. Harry's relations, it turned out, were two elderly ladies. So the governor decided he would be generous if we were generous. The exchange was made. We promised to take the ladies home to collect their belongings and leave Paris before nightfall. The governor agreed, especially as we got the ladies to sign over their house near Notre Dame to him."

"Somuch for revolutionary ideals," Allegra noted dryly.

The duke laughed. "You can only imagine our surprise when we got to the old ladies' home and discovered that the Marquis and Marquise de Valency, along with their children, had been hiding in the cellars all that time! When Harry and his old cousins were arrested, the real prize was completely overlooked. Not knowing what else to do they had remained hidden in the house. We had passports for ourselves, Harry, and the old ladies, but how were we to get the de Valency family out of Paris with us?"

"And how did you?" Allegra inquired. She was fascinated by this tale, and would have never expected such heroism or daring-do from Quinton, although she did not think him a coward. How she wished he had been there to help her brother.

"The old ladies had a small coach, nothing however that you could hide anything in, and so we decided to take a baggage cart as well. We hid the marquise and her two youngest children in a small space beneath the cart bottom, and then we piled the luggage atop it. The marquis and his son we dressed as Parisian peasants. Their clothing was ragged and filthy. Only the marquis had wooden clogs on his feet. His son was barefooted. We made certain they were dirtied. Because they had been on the run for several months, they were not plump with good living any longer. Indeed they were quite thin and gaunt, which was fortunate for the deception.

"We took the chance that we could squeak the marquis and his son, who were driving the vehicles, by the authorities. When we got to the gates of Paris we showed our passports to the guards there. Then we explained that the drivers would be returning in a few days' time to Paris with the carriage and the cart. That because the old sisters, and their English relation, had to be out of Paris by nightfall there was no opportunity to get the proper papers for the drivers. They would remain if the authorities wanted them to do so, and we would drive, but then how would the carriage and the cart get back to Paris? We said the two ancient mademoiselles were giving the transport to their drivers as well as paying them in good French livres. This would mean the two citizens could earn a living when they returned to Paris.

"The guards at the gate hemmed and hawed for a few moments, and then having been slipped some silver coins, waved us through. It took us several days to reach the coast. A bit longer than if we had gone a direct route, but we traveled the back roads so we did not have to hide the marquise and her children beneath the boards of the baggage cart. Like the others, they were garbed poorly in case anyone saw us. We bought our food along the way and slept rough. We reached Marcus's yacht without delay, sold the carriage, the cart, and the horses to an innkeeper, and set sail for England." He paused, and then continued. "The four of us had such fun on that adventure that we returned to France several times after that to help friends, or relations of friends. That is why Lady Bellingham thinks I can save her niece, but I am not certain we can. She may have waited too long to ask for help, and the four of us have responsibilities now that we did not have then."

"We must try, however," Allegra told her husband. "First, let us find out where the Comtesse d'Aumont lives. How near it is to the sea, and where exactly it is located. Then we can make our plans."

"Our plans?" the duke repeated.

"Of course," Allegra said quietly. "You don't think I am going to let you go to France and have all the fun, do you?"

"If any attempt is made to rescue the Comtesse d'Aumont and her children, Allegra," the duke said sternly to his wife, "it will be a very dangerous undertaking, not a pleasure trip, my darling girl, but I love you for your bravery in wanting to go."

"Quinton, when will you learn not to treat me as if I am some delicate creature whose frail sensibilities must not be distressed? You were damnably lucky in Paris three years ago when you rescued your friend. This is a whole different matter and must be approached as such. I will need to think on it, but we must act quickly."

"Allegra!" He sounded exasperated.

"Quinton, listen to me," she said quietly. "My brother was murdered in that damned revolution. Many other innocent people have been. More honest simple people than the aristocrats the revolution claims to hate. Women are far more devious than men, my darling. Who sit beneath the guillotine grimly as heads fall? Who incite their men to revenge? Women! You are going to need me if you have any chance of rescuing the Comtesse d'Aumont. I have to do this for James Lucian's sake. It is the only way I have of avenging his death. You must let me come." Her fingers dug urgently into his arm, and she looked directly at him.

"It is madness," he murmured, but he understood.

"I can help you," she promised him.

"I will think on it," he finally agreed.

"We will go together," she said with a smile, indicating that the matter was closed.

"We will all go," Eunice, the Countess of Aston said brightly.

"What?" her husband exclaimed.

"Yes," Caroline, Lady Walworth agreed, looking up from her place at Lady Bellingham's side. "I have to help the comtesse, too. She is my cousin, even if I didn't know it until today."

"Ohh, my dears," Lady Bellingham said, looking at them all with misty eyes. "How can I thank you?" Then she wept some more.

"Where is your husband?" the duke asked Lady Bellingham.

"Poor Freddie has taken to his bed," she replied. "He feels responsible that he did not go to France himself when the Comte d'Aumont was killed and bring Anne-Marie and her children back. He will be so happy to learn you dear young people are going to rescue his niece and her family." She arose from her place on the settee. "I must go and tell him at once," she exclaimed, and hurried from the room.

"God damnit, what a muddle!" the duke exclaimed.

"We'll have to go now," the Earl of Aston said.

"Of course we will," Lord Walworth agreed. "Poor old girl is so distressed. Repay her for her kindness to us all, eh?"

"How soon can we leave?" the earl asked.

"Two or three days at the most," the duke answered. "We'll need to learn from Lord Bellingham where his niece lives. We'll take your yacht again, Marcus. She's fast and she's tight."

"Decide what we need to take," Lord Walworth said, "and I will see we are well supplied."

"Listen to them," Allegra said to her two friends. "Making plans without us, and not having any real idea of what they are going to do at all. Men can be so irritating."

"Are we really going to go?" Caroline said.

"Of course we are," Allegra responded. "She is your cousin, and she needs our help. How do you think the comtesse is going to react to three English gentlemen barging into her home, if they can even get near her home, and announcing they've come to take her and her children back to England? She won't know if she can trust them, if they really are who they say they are, or if they are part of the plot to steal her son's inheritance. A woman, however, could convince the lady that all is well, and that she need not fear."

"You realize that they plan to leave us behind," Eunice said softly.

"We won't let them," Allegra said with a twinkle. "Ohh, I am so sorry that Sirena can't join us in this adventure."

"Do you have a plan?" Caroline inquired.

"How good is your French?" Allegra asked in return, looking at both of her friends.

"Excellent," Eunice replied.

"Very good," Caroline responded.

Allegra smiled. "Unfortunately my husband tells me that he is the only one among his friends to speak adequate French. The gentlemen will have no choice but to allow us to help them."

"But do you have a plan?" Caroline persisted.

"I think so," Allegra responded, "but give me a day to convince Quinton that it is the right plan, ladies."

Lady Bellingham returned to her drawing room as the three couples prepared to leave. They promised to visit her the following day, at which time they would learn exactly where the village of St. Jean Baptiste was located, and prepare to leave for France.

"Freddie is so relieved," Lady Bellingham told them, "and so am I. Oh, my dear Quinton, what would we do without friends like you to help us? I am so glad I was able to have a tiny part in you and Allegra finding happiness. Now an heir to complete the matters, and everything will be perfect."

"Everything will be perfect, dear Lady Clarice, only when we have brought your niece and her children safely to England," the duke said gallantly, kissing the lady's hand. He bowed smartly. "We shall see you at eleven tomorrow morning."

They bid their friends farewell out on the street before the Bellingham house. Once inside their coach Allegra snuggled against her husband and murmured contentedly, "How wonderful," she said, "that we can help dear Lady Bellingham."

The duke sighed. "My darling," he said, "you cannot really mean to go. It is much too dangerous, and as for Caroline and Eunice, they are charming featherheads. We would all be killed if caught, I fear. Leave this to the men, Allegra. We will rescue the comtesse and her family, I guarantee you."

"How?" Allegra asked him innocently.

"How?" he repeated, puzzled.

"Yes, my darling, how? Just what clever plan have you formulated to rescue this lady and her children? I cannot rest easy until I know, Quinton, because as you have so thoughtfully pointed out to me, it is a very dangerous task that must be completed. So, how will you do it?"

Some men might not have recognized Allegra's tone, but Quinton Hunter did. And the truth was he was totally stumped as to how to gain safe custody of Lady Bellingham's niece. "I suppose we will bribe those guarding the comtesse and her family," he said slowly, his mind grasping futilely for more detail, but he could not think of a thing.

"I see," Allegra said, nothing more.

There was that tone again, he thought nervously. He remained silent for a moment, but then unable to help himself he said, "How would you rescue the lady and her children?"

"You have said yourself," Allegra began, "that you are the only one among your friends who speaks passable French. That the language as spoken by Marcus, Dree, and Ocky is execrable. But Caroline, Eunice, and I speak excellent French. What if we, along with you three gentlemen, arrived at the comtesse's home dressed as peasant women. Only the four of us would speak. Marcus and Dree could murmur the occasional 'Oui,' but other than that leave the talking to the rest of us. Don't you think we could convince whoever is guarding the comtesse that we had come to get her and her children? That they had an appointment with Madame la Guillotine for tea. If we are as forceful as those horrible hags who knit beneath that instrument of execution are, or so I have heard it said, we can get Lady Bellingham's niece and her family from the house. If there are not too many guards, and I suspect there are not, for those trying to steal the d'Aumont property won't consider anyone would come rescue this country aristocrat. And whoever is attempting the nefarious act probably is doing it because there is no one to tell them they can't do it. Once we have the comtesse and her family, we'll bind the guards. That way they cannot go into the village, and learn of our deception."

The Duke of Sedgwick was speechless for several long moments. Part of him knew that his wife was an intelligent young woman, but another part of him relegated her to the same status all women of his class held. Beautiful. Charming. An ornament. But Allegra was not a toy to be displayed and then put away. She was clever and quick-witted. "It is a perfect plan," he finally said to her, "but not without its element of danger."

"I know," she replied. "We must be very careful, and we must know everything we need to know before we attempt a rescue. For instance, who is doing this to the poor lady? And why? That is why we must set sail for France in two days' time, no more. We will need a few days once we are there to learn what we must know. Then we should act swiftly, and without any hesitation."

"Agreed," he replied, realizing even as the words came from her mouth that he was indeed agreeing to her whole plan.

"Then you understand why Caroline, Eunice, and I must come?" she queried him.

"I do, although it will be a difficult thing to explain to their husbands, my darling," he responded.

"If you are willing to allow me to be in danger, how can they do anything else?" Allegra said quietly.

"Do you think your friends are brave enough to carry this off, or will they panic at the first sign of danger?" the duke said.

"I believe we are all brave enough, Quinton, but who among us can say for certain how brave we will be until we directly face danger? Besides, if we do this thing properly, there should be little danger to any of us. I believe that we can outsmart a couple of lackwit peasants. After all, we are English," she concluded.

He laughed. "God bless me, my darling, you suddenly sound most patriotic and grand. Very well, I shall speak to Dree and Marcus first thing in the morning. Then we shall go to the Bellinghams, and tell them only that a rescue attempt will be made. I will not tell them that you ladies are to be involved, for it would distress them, and send them both to their beds with the vapors. While I am dealing with my friends, you must explain to yours what we plan to do, and Allegra, you must give both Eunice and Caroline the opportunity to cry off if they wish to do so. And they may upon reflection. If they do, you cannot be angry. Do you promise me that?"

"They will not cry off," Allegra said with certainty. "Do you know how dull London has been for us? Parties. Museums. The Tower Zoo. Never again! At least this will afford us a little excitement before we return home to the country to do our duties, and fill our nurseries with those babies that you gentlemen seem to want." She smiled at him, and kissed him softly. "We must work very hard to have those babies, Quinton. Very hard."

He tipped her face up to his, and kissed her. "You will gain no argument from me, madame, on that point," he told her, and his hand slid beneath her fur-lined cloak to fondle her breasts.

"Ummm," she sighed contentedly, melting into his embrace. But then their carriage came to a definite stop.

"We're home," he noted, a tone of regret in his voice.

"We can continue this upstairs, if my lord wishes," she replied playfully, her little tongue licking at her lips provocatively'

"I must pen notes off to Dree and Marcus, but I will join you shortly, mon coeur," the duke whispered against her lips.

A footman opened the coach door and offered a hand to the duchess who descended and hurried into the house, going directly up the staircase to her apartments. She entered to catch Honor and the duke's valet, Hawkins, in a torrid embrace. They broke apart guiltily and red-faced, as she stepped through the doors.

"M'lady!" Honor squeaked. Her bodice was quite awry.

"If you seduce my maid and put her in the family way, Hawkins," Allegra said, "you must be prepared to make an honest woman of her."

"Yes, my lady," the valet said nervously.

"And you are prepared to do so? No wife, or dear friend tucked away in another place here in London, or down at Hunter's Lair?" Allegra persisted. "Honor, for goodness' sake, straighten your bodice."

"No wife, or friend, my lady," the valet said, shuffling his feet.

"Very good, Hawkins," the Duchess of Sedgwick told her husband's valet. "You are dismissed. Go and be ready to help your master to bed. He will be up shortly." Allegra turned to Honor, who was lacing her gown front. "And I am ready for my bed, Honor. Come and help me." She turned and moved from her salon into her bedchamber.

"Whew!" Hawkins breathed softly as Allegra disappeared into the other room. "She's a proper cool one."

"Haven't I taught you better yet about speaking rude against my lady?" Honor scolded him.

"Guess I need more lessons," the valet said with a wink, and then he was gone out the door, and to his master's room.

With a smile Honor hurried to her mistress's aid. "You ain't mad at me, are you?" she asked.

"Just be careful," Allegra said quietly. "I'm not certain that I trust Hawkins where you are concerned, Honor. I love you too dearly to allow him to harm you in any way."

"He's more bark than bite, my lady," Honor answered her mistress, "and he surely ain't as smart as I am," she chuckled. "If he means to find himself by my side in bed, he'll have visited the parson with me first. A kiss and a cuddle don't make babies. Of that much I'm certain."

Allegra laughed. "I shouldn't have worried," she replied.

"I'm glad you do," her maid responded. She knelt, and pulled her mistress's little slippers off. "Lord, my lady, your poor wee feet are as cold as ice. These little slippers may be fashionable, but they ain't meant for the cold streets of London."

"Honor, I need your help," Allegra said quietly. "I know I don't have the right to ask this of you. You are free to tell me so, and I shall still love you. Do you remember when I was a little girl and you would sit with me when James Lucian and I had lessons:¹ And how one day when we were doing a French exercise you corrected us and we were so surprised? It was then we discovered that you had learned the language right along with us and could speak it beautifully."

"I remember, my lady," Honor said.

"Do you think you could speak it again? I mean, given a bit of practice?" Allegra wondered.

"I wouldn't know until I tried it, my lady," Honor said honestly.

"Comment vous appelez-vous, mademoiselle?" Allegra responded.

"]e m'appelle Mademoiselle Honneur," the maid replied.

"Quel age avez-vous?"

"J'ai vingt-quatre ans, madame," was the answer.

"You do remember!" Allegra cried.

"Guess I do," Honor said, sounding surprised.

"Then let me tell you what we are going to do," Allegra said, and she explained the situation with the Bellinghams' niece, the Comtesse d'Aumont, and how they were going to France to rescue her. "If you are willing to come with us it would help tremendously," Allegra said. "I need it to look as if the local committee of safety sent a leader and enough citizens to bring the countess and her children to justice. And you speak French well."

"Can the other ladies?" Honor asked.

Allegra nodded.

"I'll go," the maidservant told her mistress. "It's an adventure, and one day if I have grandchildren, I'll tell 'em how their old gran helped save three innocent lives."

"Bless you, Honor," Allegra said wholeheartedly. And then she added, "but let me tell his lordship. I have only just convinced him that this is the right thing to do."

"Men don't have a whole lot of common sense, m'lady," Honor replied. "I think that's why God created us womenfolk. Men surely need someone to tell 'em what's right, and what ain't."

Allegra giggled. "Oh, yes, Honor," she said. "How absolutely correct you are!"

Chapter 14

Frederick Bellingham looked at the three young men standing before him. "Are you certain you want to do this?" he asked for at least the third time. "It is dangerous, but she is my brother's daughter. I must get her safely to England. Yet do I have the right to put you three in danger?" Past sixty, Lord Bellingham looked weary with his worry.

"We have discussed it carefully, my lord, and we are willing to help you. The plan is formulated, but I shall not burden you with the details. You, however, must tell me where your niece and her children live. How far from the coast are they?"

"The village of St. Jean Baptiste is located but eight miles from the town of Harfleur, which as you know is directly on the sea," Lord Bellingham told them. "My niece's home is nothing more than a large gray stone house. The family's small wealth comes from their flocks of sheep and their apple orchards. It's a most modest establishment."

"A perfect little estate for someone now in a position of power to confiscate for himself," the Earl of Aston remarked. "A helpless young widow and her children. The fellow, whoever he is, is a proper villain, I fear."

"And you are certain your niece is willing to give up her home under the circumstances?" the duke asked. "Her missive to you has said so? She will come to England?"

"She writes that she has been foolish, and should have put her son's estate with a trusted friend, and then come to England until order is restored in France. She never expected that anyone would bother them, for they are neither rich nor powerful. They are just simple country folk," Lord Bellingham said, sighing again. "What kind of a monster would prey on a woman and her children? The Comte d'Aumont was a good man. A hero of reform!"

"More ordinary folk have died in this revolution," Lord Walworth noted. "That dressmaker who does for our wives, Madame Paul. She lost family to the guillotine. What harm could a dressmaker's family have possibly caused to have required such a sentence as death?"

"I will give you a letter to carry to Anne-Marie," Lord Bellingham said to the duke. "That way she will not be afraid."

"Does she speak English?" the duke asked the older man.

"I have no idea," he replied. "We always spoke French to her on the rare occasions that we saw one another. She writes to us in French," he noted.

"Probably don't speak the king's langue," the earl remarked. "You'll have to do all the talking, Quint."

The duke nodded, and then he said to Lord Bellingham, "We will go tomorrow, sir. We will inform you when we return."

The two men shook hands.

"God bless you all, whatever happens," Lord Bellingham said.

"Ah yes, God bless you, my boys," Lady Bellingham said. Silent until then, she wept.

Outside they entered the duke's coach which took them directly to Boodle's. Settled in the club's dining room they ordered their luncheons. Boodle's was noted for its excellent food, and was a particular favorite with country gentlemen come up to town.

"You said we're going tomorrow?" the earl remarked.

"I assume your yacht is anchored at Brighton as usual," the duke returned. "The coach will carry the ladies, and we will ride."

"You can't be serious about taking our wives," Marcus Bain-bridge, the Earl of Aston said. "You know it ain't no pleasure jaunt we're off on, Quint. Too dangerous for the ladies. Much too dangerous."

"Nonetheless they are going," the duke replied.

"Tell me why I am going to allow Caroline to put herself in such jeopardy," Lord Walworth said quietly.

Quinton Hunter explained, and when he had finished he said, "Well, is my wife not clever?"

"Damn me!" the earl replied. "If that ain't cunning. What's more, I think it will work, Quint."

"Allegra has spoken with Madame Paul this very morning. She will have the clothing our ladies need ready by the time we leave tomorrow. The old lady wanted to come with us," the duke chuckled, "but my wife convinced her otherwise."

Lord Walworth sighed. "If I don't let Caroline go she'll never forgive me. All she's done is natter on about this cousin she ain't never even met, and how she must help her. I suppose we'll be obliged to take 'em in when we get em here."

"Maybe they won't want to live down in the country," the earl said helpfully.

"They live in the country now, Marcus, you dolt," Adrian, Lord Walworth grumbled. "Well, as she's a widow, maybe we'll be able to match her up with some lonely gentleman and marry her off quickly."

Their luncheon was brought. The three gentlemen tucked into the beefsteaks and potato soufflés. The attentive staff made certain their goblets were kept filled with good red wine. Afterward the duke left his two friends off at the house they were sharing, and returned to his own house on Berkley Square.

"Where is Her Grace?" he asked Marker as he entered the foyer.

"The duchess is upstairs napping, my lord," the butler replied.

The duke hurried up the staircase to his wife's apartments. Entering her salon he found it empty. He moved through the room into her bedchamber. Allegra lay, wrapped in a muslin chamber robe, asleep on her bed. Her dark hair was loose and lay all tumbled across the lavender-scented pillows. Quinton Hunter smiled to himself. If he lived to be a hundred years old, he would never understand how he had been so fortunate as to have found a wife like Allegra. This time last year he hadn't even known she existed. And in his pride he had believed there was no woman in all of England fit to be his duchess. What a fool he had been. Yet his angel had guided him safely. Reaching out, he fingered one of her soft curls.

Allegra opened her eyes, and seeing her husband standing over her opened her arms to him. 'You're back," she murmured sleepily.

He pulled off his cloak, and lay next to her. "It is all settled, my darling. We leave early tomorrow morning for Brighton. We'll be there by noon, then off with the tide."

"And we sail for France," she replied. "Where is the countess?"

"About eight miles from Harfleur," the duke said.

"We'll probably have to walk it to avoid suspicion," Allegra responded thoughtfully.

"Walk? Eight miles? Do you think that you can?" the duke wondered. "Surely we can find a cart."

"We probably should," Allegra considered upon reflection. "We will need to get away from the countess's home as quickly as possible, but as for walking, my darling, we are all country lasses, even if we are fancy ladies. We must not, however, draw attention to ourselves, Quinton. I shall have to think carefully upon it."

"Do not think now," he said, kissing her brow, his hand slipping beneath her robe to cup a breast. His thumb brushed lightly over the nipple as he bent to find her lips.

Her senses reeled. They always did when he touched her breasts which they had both discovered were very sensitive. "Mmmmmm," she murmured against his mouth, and then she pulled away. "Get out of your clothes, my lord. I do not want your dirty boots mucking my coverlet." She gave him a gentle shove.

With a chuckle he arose, and began to draw off his garments. Boots first. Then his shirt and neckcloth. His stockings, his breeches and his drawers. Allegra watched him. He had wonderfully firm buttocks. Her fingers itched to touch him. He turned about to reenter the bed, and she sighed with pleasure at the sight of his manhood, which stood at half-mast amid the tangle of his dark bush.

"Why you shameless wench," he teased her, noting the direction her eyes had taken.

"It's like an ivory pillar," she told him. "All blue-veined, and beautiful."

"If the French ever get out of Italy," he said, "I shall take you there one day to view the art, Allegra. The ancients sculpted a great many nudes of men and of women. I can see you have an appreciation of such things." He lay next to her, fingering her curls.

"There are statues of naked people:¹" she asked him, surprised.

"Oh, indeed there are," he said, unfastening the sash of her chamber robe, and pushing back fabric. "But none, my darling, are as fair as you are." He bent his head to kiss her breast.

"And these statues are displayed in public?" she continued.

"They are." His mouth closed over a nipple, and he began to suckle upon her.

"Oooo," she released her breath with an audible sigh. His mouth was warm, and the tugging upon her flesh was very exciting. Allegra knew she had more questions to ask him, but somehow they all fled from her mind as he filled her with pleasure. Her fingers found the nape of his neck, and she began to knead it with one hand. He had imprisoned her other hand with his as he feasted upon her breast.

She excited him. God in His heaven, she excited him! He could never get enough of her, but he was certainly going to try. He began to explore her body with his lips and his tongue. She made little noises indicating her pleasure as he caressed, and kissed, and licked at her. Her skin was petal soft, and just faintly fragrant with the scent of lilac. There seemed to be pulses wherever he touched her. It roused his senses even further.

"Do it!" her voice suddenly pleaded urgently, squirming against him in a suggestive and provocative manner. "Please!"

"Do what?" he teased her, almost cruelly. He was fairly certain of what it was she wanted.

"With your tongue. Please!" she cried to him.

"Where?" he taunted. Now he was positive of her need.

"There!" she almost screamed. She was going to kill him if he didn't put his tongue on her, and make her mindless.

"Here?" he questioned, his tongue probing her navel.

"I hate you!" she half sobbed.

"Or perhaps," he paused, positioning his big frame properly. "Here!" His tongue made contact with her little love button, and he heard her shriek softly. Slowly, slowly, he licked it, tasting the salt and the musk of her, watching as it grew swollen with her desire. Then the duke did something he had not done before. His palms lifted Allegra's bottom up, and he pushed his face against her hot sex, his tongue seeking, and then finding, her passage to push as deep as he could within, using it as he would his manhood.

It was then she screamed, feeling that digit thrusting inside her in an incredibly intimate and secret act. "Ohh, God!" she sobbed. "Ohh, I didn't know!" She dug her fingers into his shoulders. Her nails pressed deep. She clawed at him desperately. "Make it happen!" she begged him. She was so close, and yet she could not reach her heaven. His tongue continued to tease and torture her until she thought she would explode with her longing.

His manhood was hard. It was raging to plunder her sweet depths. He couldn't continue until he had ravaged her completely. His head lifted from the hot and marshy depths. He covered her body with his, his rod thrusting into her. Her cry of utter pleasure almost cost him his own. He leaned forward and kissed her hard, his hips pressing against hers in a rhythmic cadence of ancient lust that she met eagerly. He groaned, his head awash with his passion for her. For his beautiful and desirable wife. For Allegra!

Her own senses were reeling with her longing and the hot sweet delight that he offered her. She soared. She flew higher, and higher until her cravings all seemed to come together, and burst in a fiery balloon of lustful triumphant joy. And then she was falling, falling, falling, down into a dark and warm abyss where the pleasure slowly, slowly drained away. Then all was nothingness.

When her senses finally began to return she discovered that he was sprawled across her, still panting. Their bodies were wet with their efforts. "You… are… wonderful," she managed to say to him, and she caressed his dark hair.

He pulled himself off of her, and rolled onto his back. "You," he told her sincerely, "are incredible, my darling duchess."

"I love you," she replied, drawing the coverlet up over them.

"And I love you, Allegra," he responded, reaching for her hand. "Oh, my darling girl, how I love you!"

When the morning came they discovered that Madame Paul had already delivered the costumes that they would wear on their mission to rescue the Comtesse d'Aumont and her children. She had come herself, knocking on the door in the darkness of the predawn. Allegra opened the box, and was astounded by what she found. There were four ragged and grubby skirts, and an equal number of dirty tricolor sashes. Four patched white blouses, four pairs of wooden shoes, and four limp dingy mobcaps. In a second box were three grimy men's shirts, three pairs of baggy pantaloons, three short carmagnole peasant jackets, and three red felt Phrygian caps ornamented with the tricolor cockade. There were also wooden shoes for the gentlemen.

"It's wonderful," Allegra said. "Dressed up in this lot we will look just as we should."

"Why are there four sets of women's costumes?" the duke asked his wife quietly.

"Because Honor is going with us," Allegra said as quietly. "She speaks excellent French, Quinton, and she has very good common sense in matters of which we may not be familiar."

"How is it your maid speaks excellent French?" the duke demanded, curious.

"Because she sat with me in the schoolroom for years, my darling. One day when James Lucian and I were having difficulty conjugating a verb, Honor chimed right in with the correct conjugation, and in a rather good accent, according to our tutor. She had, it seems, been learning right along with my brother and me. She will be very helpful, Quinton. You will see."

He laughed. It would, he knew, be useless to argue with Allegra. Worse, she was probably perfectly correct. And it was rather amusing to boot. His wife's country girl of a servant spoke, to quote Allegra, "excellent French." "If you believe Honor can aid us, and if she is willing to risk the danger involved," the duke told his wife, "then I can have no objection, my darling duchess."

Allegra threw her arms about her husband, and kissed him. "Oh, thank you for not disagreeing with me, Quinton. I am so relieved that you trust my judgment in this matter."

He smiled down into her wonderful violet-colored eyes, and then gave her a quick kiss. What choice did he actually have, he wondered silently to himself.

"We should not be seen in these clothes until we reach France," Allegra said. "I will have Honor stuff them into a little bag we are to bring aboard Marcus's yacht. They can be no worse for the wear for such treatment than they already are," she concluded with a chuckle.

"What I want to know," the duke said, "is how she came into possession of such garments? It is most curious that she had them."

"Perhaps," Allegra said thoughtfully, "they belonged to some of the émigrés from France. Or, mayhap there are others who do what we are going to do to help out their family and friends. I have heard a rumor while we have been in London about some fellow who is known as the Scarlet Pimpernel. He is supposed to go into France to rescue innocents."

"It is comforting to know that there are others as foolish as we are," the duke replied dryly.

"It is our English sense of fair play," Allegra said. "One simply does not execute a king, although I seem to recall that we English did so once ourselves. But we did not conduct a reign of terror then against everyone who disagreed with us."

"No," the duke remarked, "we just went to war against one another. Innocents were killed in that conflict as well."

"But that was almost two hundred years ago, Quinton," Allegra noted. "These are modern times. People should not be so savage today."

"But they are, and so we will go to France, and attempt to bring back the Bellinghams' niece and her little family," Quinton Hunter said.

Honor and Hawkins had packed their master and mistress's trunks. While it might be considered a bit odd to visit Brighton in early March, it was the best excuse that they could think of for their absence from London. Charles Trent had been told of their mission, and while he did not approve, there was little he could do but to see that the duke and duchess had the funds that they would need for their journey. He even included a bag of French coins.

"You may need to resort to bribery," he said. His disapproval was most obvious. "What am I going to tell your father?" he demanded of Allegra.

"Tell him nothing," she said quietly. "We will be back in England as quickly as we can, and I do not choose to fret him. Aunt Mama has not been well this winter, and he is worried enough."

"Tell me your plan," her father's secretary asked.

She quickly explained.

He nodded. "It should work, but you cannot linger. Go in, get the lay of the land, retrieve the Bellinghams' kin, and get out as quickly as you can. There will be less danger for you that way. Do you understand, Your Grace? These charades you are playing at are terribly, terribly dangerous."

"I know, Charles," she said, using his Christian name, which she rarely did. "But I believe we can do this, and the Bellinghams have been so good to us all."

"I understand your reasoning, Your Grace, but if anything happened to any of you, it would put a terrible burden of guilt on the Bellinghams. They are not young, and this situation with their niece has distressed them greatly. Remember, your first duty is to your husband and his family. If the choice is between your safety, and the d'Aumont family, you must think of yourself first."

"You worry far too much, Charles," Allegra replied, and then standing on her tiptoes she kissed his cheek, causing him to blush a bright beet red. "We will be back before you realize we have been gone at all," she promised him. Then Allegra went out the door to join her husband in their traveling coach.

The sun was just coming up as they cleared the city and took the road to Brighton. They would meet up with their friends at an inn there known as The King's Arms. The trip, along what was called the New Road, was the most direct to Brighton, and in the best condition. Mr. Trent had arranged for four changes of horses along their route. Consequently their trip took only five hours.

The King's Arms was located on the harbor. It was a large comfortable establishment, popular with travelers, although the difficulties in France had taken away some of their business. Mr. Trent had arranged for a suite of rooms for the duke, and large bedrooms for the earl and Lord Walworth. All were located next to one another in a separate wing of the inn. It had been decided that Hawkins would remain behind to watch over the luggage. The rooms had been paid for in advance. It was more than likely that they would need immediate shelter upon their return for the Comtesse d'Aumont and her children. They would also not want to cause any disturbance upon their arrival that would draw attention to themselves. Brighton had its share of spies, or so they had been told.

The landlord hurried forward to greet them personally. "Welcome, Your Grace," he said bowing to the duke. "Your friends have only just arrived. Come in! Come in! Your rooms are ready for you."

"You have been told," Quinton Hunter said in his most superior and ducal voice, "that we will retain our rooms while we cruise on the Earl of Aston's yacht? My man, Hawkins, will remain behind. You'll see that he's fed? Hawkins don't like the sea, do you Hawkins?"

"No, Yer Grace, I don't," the valet said as he had been told, nodding vehemently.

"He may have ale with his supper, but don't go allowing him to get drunk," the duke instructed the innkeeper. "Hawkins does like his ale, don't you, Hawkins?"

"I do, Yer Grace," the valet said enthusiastically with a grin.

"Of course, Your Grace. Everything will be just as you require, Your Grace. You needn't worry." The innkeeper bowed again, then led them to their suite.

There they found their friends awaiting them.

"Ohh, this is so exciting!" Caroline said.

"Do you have the costumes?" Eunice inquired.

"Yes," Allegra answered her, "and when you see them, you will not believe it. Everything is so real. Honor is coming with us."

"Your maid?" Eunice and Caroline spoke in unison.

"Honor speaks quite good French," Allegra explained, "and as a servant, will know more about the common folk than we do."

"How amusing that your Honor should speak another tongue," Caroline said. "Why it is almost like having one's own French maid," she giggled. "Even if she does come from Worcester."

"Can we see our costumes?" Eunice asked.

"Honor, get the little bag with our special clothing, and let us show Lady Walworth and Lady Bainbridge," Allegra instructed her maid.

The bag was brought, opened, and Honor pulled out a skirt, a sash, and one of the mobcaps. Caroline snatched the headpiece, and pulled it over her curls. Eunice wrapped the sash about her narrow waist. They stared at each other and burst out laughing.

"This is not a jest," Allegra scolded them. "If we are caught we could all face the guillotine. These revolutionaries are not respecters of nationality. Being English will not protect us. Are you two certain that you want to go? As Quinton keeps reminding me, this is a dangerous game that we are playing at. We must travel eight miles from the coast to arrive at the d'Aumont estate. Then we must gain custody of the countess and her children from whoever has them. And finally we have to travel back to the coast without being caught, reach the yacht, and sail back to England without attracting the suspicions of anyone. I will not think badly of either of you if you have changed your minds."

"No," Caroline said. "She is my cousin."

"No," said Eunice. "I will admit we are both nervous about this undertaking, but not once has either of us considered crying off, Allegra."

"But how are we going to get to the countess?" Caroline asked.

"We shall be bloodthirsty peasant ladies from Harfleur who have come to bring the countess and her children before the revolutionary tribunal for justice. The Committee for Public Safety in the town has sent us to fetch the woman, Citizeness d'Aumont, and her brats. If the people holding the countess and her children attempt to stop us, we shall become very aggressive and threatening toward them. France is ruled by fear. The mere threat that her captors are not concurring with the local authorities will bring about their immediate cooperation, I am certain," Allegra told her friends. "Remember, despite their revolutionary talk, these people are used to obeying their superiors. We shall have to be very convincing, however."

While the women continued to speak among themselves, the gentlemen were also making their plans.

"When do we sail?" the duke asked the Earl of Aston.

"Captain Grant suggests we leave on the evening's tide. It is just before midnight. The weather is good, the winds fresh. If it all holds, we should reach France the day after tomorrow."

"Is he familiar with the territory into which we are venturing?" Quinton Hunter asked his friend.

Marcus Bainbridge smiled. "He knows a hidden cove right near the town of Harfleur. We will anchor there."

"And just how is he aware of such an ideal anchorage?" Lord Walworth wondered aloud.

"Damn me, Adrian, where do you think that fine French wine you like so much comes from?" the earl chuckled. "You surely don't think the damned French can cut off an Englishman's supply of good wine? When I don't need the yacht, and frankly nowadays, I don't use it a lot, I allow Grant to make little trips for his own amusement. If he brings me back some wine, so much the better."

"In other words, Marcus, your captain is smuggling," Lord Walworth said. "This situation becomes more dangerous by the moment. If your yacht is recognized by the authorities, could we not all be in terrible peril? I do not like it at all."

"Grant has only done a wee bit of smuggling, Dree, and he has never been caught. Not even pursued. The Froggies are too busy killing each other and destroying their society to worry about an English captain out for a bit of wine. It is perfectly safe."

"If this were not Caroline's relation," Lord Walworth said, "I should not allow it."

"You are free to remain here," the duke told his friend.

"No. I value my marriage too much, Quint. Caroline would never forgive me, I fear," Lord Walworth said, resigned.

"You'll feel better after a good supper," the earl told his friend. "I always feel better after a good supper."

"You'll become as stout as Prinny one day," the duke teased his friend.

"I need my food, Quint. Eunice may look like a cool and elegant little countess, but she's a wildcat in our marriage bed. I need my strength to keep up with her."

"What we need is heirs," Lord Walworth said. "After this little adventure, if the almighty God allows us to return to England unscathed, we had best settle down to getting 'em. I want a son I can take up on my horse with me. I want several for that matter. One for the title, one for the church, one for the army, and one for the navy."

"What does Caroline say?" the duke asked dryly.

"Why, she agrees with me, of course," Lord Walworth said. "Why wouldn't she? Damn me, Quint, only a year ago we were discussing finding ourselves wives, and look at us now. Old married men, by God!"

His friends chuckled, and then the duke said seriously, "I hope we live to be old married men, lads. If it were not for the Bellinghams I should not be here in Brighton today, but rather on our way home to Hunter's Lair. I'm sorry Ocky can't be with us, but Sirena will whelp her young 'un any day now."

"He's going to be mighty jealous when we tell him what we did," chortled the earl. "Ocky has always liked a good adventure, and this one, gentlemen, is likely to be our last."

"I think," Lord Walworth replied, "that from now on I can do without adventure. I'll be happy to settle down to a comfortable and dull existence at the hall with Caroline and our children."

"Agreed," the earl and the duke said in unison.

The sea breezes of Sussex's coast had drawn the fashionable crowds to Brighton since the mid-1780s when Prinny arrived to spend a summer. Three years later he had purchased a simple farmhouse on the west side of the Steyne. Of course, unable to restrain himself, he had hired an architect and remodeled his dwelling into what became known as The Royal Pavilion. For the next thirty years Prinny continued to remodel, expand, and renovate his Pavilion. Fashionable London followed him to the seaside each year. The height of the season was always on August twelfth, the prince's birthday.

Early March was not a time when fashionable people visited Brighton. Most of the houses on the Steyne were shut up tight. The two chief hotels, Old Ship and Castle Inn, were open, but barely. The theatre on the New Road with its large gallery and two tiers of boxes was closed for the season. The race track was deserted. Very few fashionables were in residence except those too poor to keep a London house, or those who claimed they preferred living at the seaside for their health. The King's Arms was not a watering place for the ton, but their brief stay there would not attract the attention of any who by chance might know or recognize the three couples, and wonder why on earth they were here in Brighton at this gloomy time of year.

HawawHkins pulled Honor aside just before they left. "Now, listen, old girl," he said to her, "don't go taking any chances for some foreign lady you don't even know. I want you coming back safe and sound."

"And just why is that, Peter Hawkins?" Honor demanded of him.

"You know why," he muttered, shuffling his feet.

"No, I don't," she replied.

"Don't we have an understanding, Honor Cooper?" he asked her.

"If we do, you didn't tell me," she shot back.

"Well, we do, damnit, and I don't want you getting yourself killed by those Froggies," Hawkins said fiercely, and then he kissed her hard upon her lips.

Honor grew pink with pleasure, but then she said, "Now, don't you go confusing me, Hawkins. I haven't said we have an arrangement, but then I won't say we don't. I'll be back." She gave him a kiss in return, and hurried out of the inn after the others.

The earl's sailing yacht was anchored at the end of a long stone quay. It was not a large vessel, but neither was it small. It stretched seventy feet from bow to stern, was twenty-three feet in width, and one hundred eighty tons. Although it was a pleasure craft, it carried several small cannons. Its sails were ketch-rigged. There was a sumptuous day cabin beneath the poop deck where they would shelter from the elements.

"Welcome aboard, your lordship, Your Grace, my lord," Captain Grant greeted them. "Bobby will show you to the cabin. We'll be under way shortly." He bowed to the gentlemen and to the ladies.

"I keep a small crew aboard," the earl said. "This is Bobby, the cabin boy. He's a good lad, aren't you, Bobby?"

"Yes, my lord, I try to be," came the earnest reply. The boy, about twelve years of age, hurried ahead of them, opening the door to the day cabin where they would be staying. "There's wine, and fresh biscuits, my lord." He ushered them inside. Then with a tug on his cap, he hurried back out again.

"Where are we going to sleep, Marcus?" the Countess of Aston demanded of her husband. "It's all very beautiful, but hardly cozy."

"It isn't meant to be, my darling. I used to race Seagull before we married. Quint, Dree, and Ocky have all been aboard before. You will sleep here, in these bunks hidden behind the elegant paneling." Pressing a hidden button with his hand, the earl smiled at their astonishment as the paneling slid back to reveal two tiers of narrow bunks.

"They are not very big," Eunice noted.

"You'll be able to stretch out and rest, my dear wife," the earl assured her.

"There are seven of us, and only six of those narrow little berths," the countess noted.

"I shall get my rest on the settee," the earl told her.

"Very well," Eunice agreed. "I suppose we should all go to bed now. There seems to be nothing else to do."

Wrapping themselves in their capes and cloaks, they settled themselves down for the night. Allegra awoke at one point to feel the roll of the sea beneath the vessel. It was very quiet. She could hear the wind outside just faintly. She had never been on the sea, and she wasn't certain if she was frightened or not, but everyone else seemed quite peaceful, except for some snoring. So she fell back asleep.

The next day dawned gray and damp. A light rain fell, but the winds were steady, and the seas relatively calm. The Seagull seemed to skip along the waves easily. Bobby brought them a platter of eggs, ham, and buttered brown bread. They ate gingerly, waiting to see if their food settled, but it did. They spent the day playing cards for imaginary stakes, except for Honor and the duke. Allegra's maid went over each garment Madame Paul had supplied, making certain every piece was ready to don come the morning. The duke walked the deck of the yacht as he considered what they were attempting to do lor the hundredth time. It was madness, he knew, and yet friendship demanded that they help the countess and her children.

Captain Grant joined him at one point, saying, "If the winds keep up, Your Grace, we should anchor some time tonight, late."

"How far is it into the town?" Quinton Hunter asked.

"Only a mile and a bit, Your Grace."

"You know the town?"

"Aye," the captain nodded.

"We'll need a horse and a cart," the duke told him.

"I know a man," the captain offered, "but it will cost, and you must pay in French coin, not English."

"Agreed. You will go with us?"

"Nay," the captain said. "It is better that you not be seen in Harfleur, Your Grace. These days everyone watches, and strangers are easily and quickly ferreted out."

"You are known then," the duke noted.

"I am. I will fetch the horse and cart. My friend will think it is to meet the man who helps me smuggle certain items. I always leave the horse and cart at a set location afterward so I am not seen. Let me make the arrangements, Your Grace. The cove where we will anchor is just below the road you must take to reach the Countess d'Aumont. The d'Aumonts are well known in the region for their charity. The people were devastated when the count was executed in Paris. It would not have happened here. The man with the horse and cart has a sister who labors on the d'Aumont farm. When the earl told me who you were attempting to rescue, 1 was glad that I could be of help to you."

"Thank you, Captain Grant," the duke replied.

"I will ask my friend what he knows regarding the countess's arrest," Captain Grant said.

"No, do not," the duke advised. "This man is willing to deal with you because it puts money in his pocket in particularly hard times, but he is a loyal Frenchman first. If you attempt to compromise his loyalties he may turn on you. Let him, as you have earlier suggested, believe you are merely here to smuggle wine and other goods as you usually do. Do not arouse his suspicions by even mentioning the Comtesse d'Aumont."

"You are absolutely right, my lord," Captain Grant said.

Just before sunset, although the entire day had been gray, they could just make out the outline of the French coast in the hazy distance. The duke explained to his companions that the captain would fetch them a horse and a cart for their journey. They would leave as soon after the dawn as they possibly could. They ate ham, bread, and cheese for their evening meal, drinking a rather good wine which warmed them and eased them all into sleep.

Bobby, the cabin boy, awoke the duke as soon as the captain departed the ship to row himself ashore. Awakened, the women stepped out onto the deck of the yacht into a chill and dank darkness, allowing the gentlemen to change into their costumes. They did not speak. The three men exiting the cabin some minutes later did not look at all like three English milords. The women returned to the cabin to change into their own garments. When they were dressed but for their mobcaps, Honor loosened their hair, tangling it, and rubbing dirt from a jar she had carried with her into their tresses. Then she passed the jar around, suggesting they dirty themselves on their faces and about the neck where their collars rested.

"Plain folk don't bathe as much as your fine ladies do," she told them in her perfect French.

"She truly can speak French," Caroline squealed.

"And you had better, lady, from now on," Honor advised. "Sound carries over the water, and we don't know who is listening."

As the maidservant's words died they all looked at one another, realizing the game, this dangerous game, was now truly on, and a careless slip of the tongue could destroy them all.

Eunice, Countess of Aston, swallowed visibly, suddenly shaken, but seeing Allegra's look of alarm, said calmly in her rather good French, "It is all right, Allegra. I am afraid, but ready to do my part."

"We cannot call ourselves by our own Christian names," Allegra said softly. "We will need simple French names. I will be Marie. Honor, you are the only one who can keep her name. Honneur. Eunice, you are now Jeanne, and Caroline, Prunelle. We must tell the men, and rechristen them as well." She pulled her mobcap over her long snarled black hair. "Allons, mes amies!" The four women exited the cabin.

The name change explained to them, the gentlemen became Joseph, the duke; Pierre, the earl; and Michel, Lord Walworth. Then they waited. When the captain returned they exchanged places with him in the rowboat.

"Gawd, your lordships, I wouldn't have recognized you, but that I know it is you," he exclaimed softly. "You will find the cart and the horse at the top of the path. How long should I wait?"

"Until we return, Captain Grant, unless you find yourself and my yacht in danger," the earl said. "I do not know how long it will take us to retrieve the comtesse and her family. With luck we shall be back by nightfall."

"I'll keep a single light burning at the stern of the vessel, my lord," Captain Grant said. "God bless you all, and bring you safely back to us quickly, and madame countess with you."

The duke rowed their little boat to the shore. Getting out, they pulled it up upon the beach, the sand crunching beneath their wooden shoes, then began the climb up the hillside. They were in France. The game was indeed on!

Chapter 15

The Comtesse d'Aumont stared disbelieving at the man before her. He was stocky and of medium height. There was enough of her late husband in his face to make his words unreal. She could not believe what he was saying.

"You were his brother," she finally managed to say. "You are a d'Aumont."

"Half brother," he corrected her. "I was our father's bastard."

"You were raised with him. You were with him your whole life," Anne-Marie d'Aumont cried. "He loved and respected you."

"We were five years apart in age," the man replied. "I was raised to be his servant. I was the older, and yet he was the heir, only for an accident of birth. Now I shall have what rightfully belongs to me."

"This estate belongs to my son, the Comte d'Aumont," Anne-Marie said, her voice shaking. "Jean-Robert is the heir to Le Verger."

"Did I ever tell you how I was conceived, madame? My mother came into this house as a servant at the age of twelve. My father raped her when she was thirteen. I was born when she was fourteen. She died shortly thereafter, and I was raised by my grandmère."

"Do not think to shock me, Reynaud," the comtesse said. "I know how you came into being, but your father was drunk when he attacked your mother. That does not excuse his crime. It was bestial, but he never touched her again. And he paid your grandmère to care for you. She wanted to put you out on a hillside for the wild animals. Did you know that? He would not permit it, for you were his very flesh. He paid her very generously to look after you, although she used precious little of his coin for your care. That is why when you were four he brought you into the house to be raised by his wife, along with the baby she was carrying. Rachelle d'Aumont was good to you, Reynaud. And your lather tried to make up for what he had done to your mother as best he could. And my husband, your brother, treated you as an equal all his life."

"Yes," Reynaud said. "Jean-Claude was a good brother, 1 will admit. That is what made it so hard for me to betray him. But alas, I had no choice."

"What are you saying?" she gasped, going pale, her heart beating violently against her chest. My God! My God! It could not be.

"Once we were in Paris it was very easy for me to put a note in one of those boxes the Committee for Public Safety scattered about the city to give anonymity to those wishing to expose traitors to the new regime. They are very efficient in Paris. Jean-Claude was quickly arrested. I, of course, was fortunate to escape the authorities, and I knew my dear little brother would not expose me as his companion. I went to see him beheaded, and even walked alongside the tumbrel as it took him to the guillotine. He begged me to see to your safety, and that of his children. He had absolutely no idea that it was I who had betrayed him." Reynaud smiled, and the smile was so like her husband's that Anne-Marie cried out as if in pain.

"Monster!" she accused.

"Then I returned here, and joined our local Committee for Public Safety. I became so invaluable, so skilled in hunting out the enemies of the people, that the authorities in Harfleur gave me total authority over the committee in St. Jean Baptiste. I am the one responsible for your arrest, Citizeness d'Aumont. Your fate is in my hands entirely." He laughed aloud.

"God will punish you, Reynaud," she told him. "You cannot hide from God."

"I am arranging," he continued as if she had not spoken, "for your son to be sent to the army."

"He is ten years old!" she shrieked at him. Then she began to tremble as the realization of how helpless she was penetrated her consciousness.

"Old enough to carry water, or ammunition, or if he pleases the men in his unit with his elegant behavior, he might even become a little drummer boy for his regiment. You need not worry, citi-zeness, my nephew is a pretty little fellow. He will find friends to protect him."

His meaning was very obvious, and the Comtesse d'Aumont was unable to suppress a shudder of revulsion. "No," she cried weakly.

"And as for your daughter, I have arranged for her to be apprenticed to a glovemaker in Paris. She will learn to be useful, Citizeness, and not grow up to be a worthless little aristo. The glovemaker told me that he likes young girls." He smiled again. "He will take good care of my niece, I am certain." He chuckled knowingly.

"Please," the comtesse pleaded, "please, I beg you! Do what you will with me, but leave my children alone. We will leave Le Verger. It is yours. I have family in England that I can go to for shelter and aid. I will do whatever you want. Just do not harm my babies!" She fell to her knees before him, and clutched at his jacket. "Please!" The tears were streaming down her pretty face.

He looked on her dispassionately, his brown eyes cold, cruel. "Anything, Citizeness?" he said softly. Loosening his breeches he pulled out his flaccid manhood. "Anything?" he repeated.

"Anything," she sobbed brokenly. She would do what she must to save her children.

"Very well then, open your mouth, Citizeness, and entertain my rod. If you please me we will speak further on these matters. Now, suck, you aristocratic bitch. Suck!" His fingers cruelly dug into her head, threading themselves into her thick brown hair.

Anne-Marie d'Aumont closed her eyes and obeyed as she prayed that God would forgive her; her dead husband and their parents would forgive her; that she would one day forgive herself. But she had no other choice. She had to save the children! Why, oh why, had she not taken her English uncle up on his offer to shelter them when he had first made it? She knew now that she could not trust Reynaud d'Aumont, but she had to hope his desire for Le Verger was greater than his need to punish the legitimate branch of the d'Aumont family for their existence. That if she let him have his way with her, he would let them all go. She felt his flesh growing thicker in her mouth, and sucked harder on him.

"Ahh, yes, you little bitch," he groaned, his eyes closing with the pleasure she was giving him. "You are skillful indeed. That's it. That's it! Ah! Ah! Ahhhhh!" His fingers loosened their grip on her tresses, and he sighed with his release.

She continued to kneel before him, her head drooping with her shame. She had swallowed every bit of his juices, struggling not to vomit them back at his feet. That, she knew, would not please him, and she had to please him if she was to save the children from his power.

Reynaud rebuttoned his breeches. "You have hidden talents, Citizeness."

She looked up at him. "My children?"

"I may reconsider my decision, Citizeness. Leave your bedchamber door open tonight, and we shall converse further on the matter," he told her. "Now get up, and see to the dinner. I wish to go over my brother's accounts."

Anne-Marie d'Aumont stumbled from the library where they had been speaking. The house was quiet.

Only two of the servants had remained after her arrest. They hadn't wanted to go, but she had sent them away, fearful for their safety under the circumstances. She had paid their year's wages so they would not starve. The old cook had remained, and her maid who was now with the children. She hurried to the kitchen. "Thérèse," she said in what she hoped passed for a normal voice, "do we have anything for supper? Monsieur Reynaud is remaining."

"That one!" Thérèse spat. "What does he want, madame?"

"Le Verger," the comtesse answered softly.

"Oh, the wicked devil," the old cook cried. "If the monsignor were alive he would not dare. He cannot take Le Verger from the petit monsieur Jean-Robert, madame."

"He can, and he means to do it. He wants to send my son to the army, and my daughter to a glovemaker in Paris, Thérèse. I am trying to reason with him. We must please him. Help me, I beg you!"

"Finely ground glass in his soup, madame," the cook muttered balefully. "Or," she made a slicing motion across her throat.

"We cannot kill him, Thérèse. He is the head of the Committee for Public Safety in St. Jean Baptiste. He is well known in Harfleur. If he disappeared we would all face Madame la Guillotine, I fear."

"I can make a rabbit pie, and I have a chicken I can roast," the cook said grudgingly. "I will do what I can to help, madame, but it will not please me to see Reynaud le bâtard sitting in monsignor's place at the head of the table tonight."

"Nor will it please me, Thérèse, but the times have changed. It is no longer the world we knew. If I can persuade Monsieur Reynaud to simply take Le Verger, I intend to make my way to my uncle in London with the children. I will see you have your wages, and a bit more I can spare."

"Madame! Madame!" The old woman threw her apron over her face, and began to sob. "If you go, take me with you. My granddaughter, Céline, and I have no one but the famille d'Aumont. We will not serve Reynaud le bâtard. Take us with you."

"Are you sure Céline does not want to remain here? What of that young man she was walking out with, Thérèse?" the comtesse asked.

"He was taken to serve in General Bonaparte's army, madame, and has not been heard of since," Thérèse said.

Anne-Marie sighed softly. "If Monsieur Reynaud does not object, Thérèse, then you and Céline may come with us, but I do not know how we shall survive in England. I have little money, I fear."

"Money." The cook spat scornfully. "We will go with you, madame, for no money at all. Our family has served the d'Aumonts for centuries. A revolution will not change that for Céline and for me."

The comtesse hugged the old cook, her blue eyes filling with tears. "Merci, Thérèse. Merci. We will all survive… somehow."

"Oui, madame, we will, and we will be together," the cook declared, as she hugged her mistress back.

"Feed the children here in the kitchens, Thérèse. I do not want him near them. And tell Céline to remain with them tonight. They are to sleep in the nursery as they did when they were younger," the comtesse instructed the cook. "I will go now, and set the table."

"Très bien, madame," the old cook said, understanding more than her mistress would have believed she did.

To Anne-Marie's amazement Thérèse managed to present a wonderful dinner. The countess had set the table in her salle à manger, and then changed her gown for something cleaner. She dressed her hair herself, twisting it into a neat chignon. She needed to give Reynaud the idea that she was not entirely helpless, or afraid, and was ready to bargain with him for her children's safety. And Thérèse certainly did her part.

They began with a wonderful soup of onions and red wine. Next Thérèse brought forth trout, broiled in butter. There followed the rabbit pie with its thick brown gravy, petites carottes, and little shallots; a roasted chicken with an apple and bread stuffing, petits pois, bread, and sweet butter.

Reynaud d'Aumont ate heartily, smacking his lips, mopping up every bit of the winy gravy with bread. "The old lady hasn't lost her touch," he said, "but I have a younger woman to take her place."

"Then you will not mind if she comes to England with me," Anne-Marie said softly.

He grinned. "We have yet to come to a final arrangement, citizeness," he told her.

"You may have whatever you want of me, Reynaud," she said. "You may have Le Verger, and everything in it. Just let me go with my children. We will take nothing but the clothing on our backs. Just let us go. Surely you must have some feeling for the brother you betrayed. Marie-Claire and Jean-Robert are his children. They have loved you. Does your need for vengeance really demand the destruction of innocents? Have mercy, I beg you!"

"Go up to your bedchamber and wait for me," he said. "We will see how well you can bargain for your children, Citizeness."

She arose from the table, and curtseying to him left the room. Upstairs there was not a sound to be heard. Céline and Thérèse had obviously fed the children, and they were now in bed, sleeping, she prayed. Her bed, the bed she had shared with Jean-Claude, was turned back. She undressed without any help, leaving only her chemise on for a night garment. These days with no one to do the laundry, many of her garments did double duty, and were only washed when absolutely necessary. Undoing her hair she brushed it out, starting as the door to her bedchamber opened, and Reynaud came into the room.

Wordless at first, he removed his own clothing and boots. Finally clad only in his shirt he turned about and said to her, "Take off your chemise. I want to see what it is you have to offer me, citizeness."

She quickly obeyed, and stood naked before him. He walked around her, stopping behind to press himself against her, his big hands moving to cup her breasts.

"Very nice," he murmured his approval, "especially considering your age, and the fact you have whelped two brats." He squeezed her breasts hard, smiling when she winced. He was surprised to find that the mere thought of fucking this aristo was very exciting. He rubbed himself against her, his manhood sliding against the split between her bottom. "Did Jean-Claude ever give it to you there, Citizeness?" he whispered into her ear, "or will I be the first to taste that pleasure?"

She couldn't answer him. Her heart was beating so fast, and she could feel the bitter fear rising in her throat.

He laughed nastily. "First things first, however, Citizeness. On your knees again, and suck. I will tell you when to stop, and you had best be as skillful tonight as you were earlier today. Ahh, yes, bitch, that is good. Very good!" He closed his eyes, and when he was hard, but not yet ready to loose his juices, he said, "Now, my pretty little citizeness, on your back, and open your legs. Then I want you to tell me how much you want to be lucked by me. 1 low long has my brother been dead now?" He pushed her back onto the bed. "He was a virile man, Jean-Claude, and you're not so old yet that you didn't enjoy his husbandly attentions, are you?" He fell atop her. "Now tell me, Citizeness, how much you want me to do it to you!"

"Reynaud! In the name of le hon Dieu," she pleaded.

"Tell me, you aristocratic bitch, or our discussions are over, and your children are gone on the morrow!" he snarled, slapping her.

"Please," she begged him, and realizing that wasn't enough, she continued, "please fuck me, Reynaud. Oh, do it to me. 1 want it. I need it. Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Ahhhhhh!" she shrieked as he rammed himself into her cruelly. His mouth mashed down upon her lips, kissing her hungrily, his tongue stabbing at her tongue as she struggled not to gag. She realized almost immediately that if she didn't exhibit a measure of enthusiasm he was not going to be satisfied. She groaned beneath him, her nails raking down the broad back beneath his shirt. She wrapped his torso about with her legs. "Oh, yes," she murmured into his ear. "Oh, yes, Reynaud! Do it to me hard!" And he did.

He grunted, and sweated over her body. The walls of her love sheath seemed to grasp him tightly, and he howled with his lust. He could feel her full breasts beneath his chest, their nipples hard as little iron points. Then his excited desires burst, and he was angry for a moment until he realized that he had an entire night ahead of him. He was going to suckle and bite those breasts until she screamed with both pain and pleasure. He was going to make her suck him to another stand, and then he was going to put himself into her rosette. That was something he knew his brother had never done, but he would do it. And she would love it, he was quite certain. He had always wanted Anne-Marie. Now she was his slave for as long as he desired her. He did not think he would grow tired of her too quickly. But when he was, he would sell her to a madame he knew in Harfleur, and dispose of her children exactly as he had planned to do. The boy would go first to the army, and the girl would serve her apprenticeship in Paris. But not, perhaps, before he violated her as his father had once violated his mother. Now that would be true revolutionary justice! He laughed aloud with his silent thoughts, and the woman beneath him trembled at the evil sound.

That she had lived through what was undoubtedly the worst night of her life amazed Anne-Marie d'Aumont when she awoke the following morning. Reynaud d'Aumont lay snoring like a pig next to her. He had violated and degraded her in ways she had never imagined. She crept from the bed, aching and sore all over. Finding a pitcher of water in the warm coals of the fireplace, she attempted to wash his filth from her flesh. She doubted that she could ever erase the memories, but if it would save her children she would do it all over again. As clean as she could be she dressed swiftly, and escaped from the room, hurrying down the stairs to the kitchen where her children were waiting to see her.

"Maman!" they cried.

Then Marie-Claire, aged twelve said, "What is the matter, Maman? Why did Papa's valet eat with you last night, and then remain?"

"Monsieur Reynaud is now the new owner of Le Verger," she began slowly.

"Le Verger is mine," Jean-Robert cried indignantly. "My uncle is the bastard. I am the true heir."

"Non, mon bébé. Le Verger is now Monsieur Reynaud's. So the revolution has ruled. We are going to England soon, to my uncle's home in London. Ohh, you will like London, mes enfants. And Thérèse and Céline will come with us, Jean-Robert. Won't that be nice?"

"The English are our enemies," the boy said stonily

"Grandpapa was English, Jean-Robert. You arc named for him," she reminded her son gently.

"Stupid boy," his sister said. "Monsieur Reynaud has stolen Le Verger, and there is nothing we can do about it."

"I will go to the king," the boy responded hotly.

"There is no king, Jean-Robert," his sister reminded him. "Not anymore. They cut off his head just the way they did to Papa."

Jean-Robert began to sniffle.

"Marie-Claire," her mother scolded her, but she knew her daughter was being practical.

"When are we going?" the girl asked.

"Soon," her mother promised her. Then she turned to her maid, Céline. "Take the children to Père André for their lessons," she instructed the younger woman. "Do not come back for a while."

"Oui, madame," Céline said, understanding. "Allons, mes enfants." She led the two children from the kitchens.

"I have hot water," Thérèse said. "I have filled the little oak tub in the pantry. Go and bathe, madame. Get the stink of that beast off of you now, or you will never get it out of your nostrils."

The comtesse flushed. "You know?"

"I know that dog, Reynaud, madame. You did what you had to do to protect the children, but do not trust him."

"I do not. Ahh, Thérèse, I am so ashamed." And she began to weep softly.

"It is he who should be ashamed," Thérèse said fiercely. "I would kill him if I thought I could keep us all safe, but nowadays one does not know who one's friends are, madame. Go and bathe now."

The Comtesse d'Aumont washed herself thoroughly, and when she had finished she felt much better. She sat down and ate the boiled egg and the fresh bread that Thérèse had prepared for her, sipping at a cup of watered wine. She had no sooner arisen from the table when there came a pounding upon the front door of the house. "I will get it," she said to the cook whose hands were all floury, and she hurried upstairs to answer the ferocious pounding. Opening the door the Comtesse d'Aumont found herself facing a group of peasants.

"We have come for the Comtesse d'Aumont and her brats," said the obvious leader of the group, a woman who wore an eye patch over her left eye.

"I am the Comtesse d'Aumont," Anne-Marie quavered, her heart beginning to pound furiously.

"We have been sent to take you to Harfleur, Citizeness. Your children, too," the woman said. "Where are the men who are supposed to be guarding you? Heads will roll for this infraction of the rules!"

"The guards went back to St. Jean Baptiste yesterday when Monsieur Reynaud, the head of the Committee for Public Safety arrived. He is here now, but he is still sleeping," she told them.

"Where?" demanded the woman.

"Upstairs," the comtesse said. "Will you not come in?"

"Madame," the leader said softly, "do not be afraid. We have come to rescue you. We carry a letter from your uncle, Lord Bellingham. This is but a charade." Honor handed the comtesse the small message. She opened it, and the relief upon her face was palpable.

"This is a miracle," she whispered.

"Who are these ruffians, madame?" Thérèse had come up from the kitchen, a large carving knife in her hand.

"There is not time to explain, Thérèse. Whatever happens, do not be afraid. It is all right, and I will tell you as soon as I can," Anne-Marie d'Aumont said in low tones. "They have come to rescue us."

"What the hell is going on down here?" Reynaud d'Aumont stood at the top of the staircase. He was half-dressed. He stomped down to face them. "Who the devil are you?"

"You are Monsieur Reynaud of the Committee for Public Safety in St. Jean Baptiste?" the woman with the eye patch demanded authoritatively.

"I am," he replied.

"I am Citizeness Honneur Dupont. These citizens and 1 have been sent from Harfleur to take Citizeness d'Aumont and her offspring into custody. We have been given our authority by the Committee for Public Safety in Harfleur. Charges have been made against this woman."

"What charges?" demanded Reynaud.

"I do not know," Honor replied surlily. "I am not made privy to such things. It is my duty to collect those people the committee wishes to see. Was this woman not already under arrest?"

"Yes," he said slowly.

"Then why are you standing there arguing with me, Citizen Reynaud? If you have any questions or complaints to make, I suggest you come to Harfleur with us. If, however, you defy the wishes of the Harfleur Committee for Public Safety, 1 can only imagine what your fate will be." She made a chopping motion with her hand. "This citizeness and her children have been asked to tea by Madame la Guillotine. I am certain you do not object to enemies of France being exterminated." She glared at him, hands upon her hips. "Well, Citizen?" she growled.

"No. No," Reynaud said. Then he thought, what a fortunate coincidence that Anne-Marie and her children should be taken away now. While he would have enjoyed having her about to torture for a while longer, it did not matter really. Le Verger would now be his without any questions. "Where are the children?" he asked Anne-Marie.

"With Père André," she said low. "They are your blood, Reynaud. Do not let them be killed! Keep them here with you. I beg you!" She fell to her knees before him, and he thought of when she had done the same thing yesterday. The memory of it made his rod tingle.

"Get on your feet, Citizeness," he snapped at her roughly, yanking her up. "The committee in Harfleur outranks me. You will go with these citizens." He turned to Thérèse. "Go and fetch the brats, old woman."

She glared up at him.

He stepped forward and shouted down into her face. "Did you not hear me, you old bitch? Or are you too stupid to understand?"

"I understand very well, Citizen Reynaud," Thérèse said softly, and then she plunged her carving knife directly into his heart. "I understand everything, but you will not have Le Verger. It belongs to the true heir, and not some bastard. Do you hear me? Or are you too stupid to understand?" Thérèse stepped back from him as he collapsed to the floor. Then drawing the knife from her victim's chest she wiped it off on her skirt.

"Good God," the Earl of Aston exclaimed in English.

"Be silent, Citizen Pierre," Honor said in a hard voice.

"1 will go to fetch Céline and the children now, Madame la Comtesse," Thérèse said quietly. Turning, she walked from the house.

"Who was he?" the Duke of Sedgwick asked the stunned Anne-Marie.

"My husband's half brother," she replied. "He was his father's bastard, and was raised to be my husband's servant. Jean-Claude loved him as he would any brother. I always thought they were friends, but then yesterday I learned that it was Reynaud who had betrayed my husband when they were in Paris last year."

"Is that why the old woman killed him?" the duke continued to query. "It was, if I may say so, quite nicely, and neatly done."

Anne-Marie d'Aumont crossed herself, but said nothing.

"My lord," Allegra murmured softly to her husband, "it is obvious the old woman killed the villain because he has abused the comtesse. It is unlikely she will want to speak about it, for it will have been a terrible and shameful experience for such a virtuous and gentle woman. Let it be, and let us concentrate on leaving here as quickly as possible." She turned to the countess. "Madame, gather any jewelry or monies that you have secreted away, and hide them well on your person and those of your children. We can allow you to take nothing else. Remember, we are supposed to be bringing you to Harfleur to face revolutionary justice. If we are stopped on the road that is the story we will tell, and that is what must he believed."

"Who are you?" the Comtesse d'Aumont asked softly.

"I am madame la Duchesse de Sedgwick. This gentleman is my husband, monsieur le duc, and these are our friends. The woman with the eye patch is my maid, Honneur."

"Why?" the comtesse asked.

"Your uncle has been very distressed, as has your aunt, when you did not come to England immediately after your husband was killed. My brother, too, died in Paris, refusing to leave his affianced, although he was offered his freedom because he was English. This is our way of avenging him, and helping our friends, the Bellinghams."

"So you have come to rescue me and my children in his memory, eh, madame? You are mad, but then all the English are mad my papa used to say. How can I ever thank you?"

"We are not safe yet," Allegra reminded her. "Now go, and letch your valuables."

"One thing," the comtessa said. She looked to the duke. "I cannot leave my two servants behind. They will come with me."

The duke laughed ruefully. "In for a penny, in for a pound," he remarked. "It won't make any difference if we are caught helping three people or five to escape France. Yes, madame, of course your servants may come. I do not think I should attempt to argue with that fierce old woman who killed Monsieur Reynaud."

The countess bit her lip, and then she laughed softly, too.

Thérèse returned with her granddaughter, Céline, and the two children in tow. Their mother, coming back down the stairs to the foyer, explained all to them. Then she secreted her valuables among the five of them, explaining that it was all they would have to live on once they arrived in England.

"Oh, no, madame," Caroline burst out. "I am your cousin. You will come and live with my husband and me."

"You are my kin?" the comtesse said, and then she began to weep. "Ahh, to think that the little family I have left in England would care for me and for my children, that they would endanger themselves to come and rescue us." She embraced Caroline. "Merci! Merci!"

"It is time we were going," the duke said to them.

"What is to be done with that?" Allegra asked, pushing at the body of Reynaud d'Aumont with her wooden shoe.

"It will be taken care of, madame," Thérèse said grimly. "I have told the priest, and he will see to it. Reynaud le bâtard was not well loved among us. His body will be buried deep in the woods where it is unlikely anyone will ever find it."

"It will take us longer to return to the coast than it took us to get here," Allegra noted. "We shall have to walk most of the way back, I fear. The comtesse must ride in the cart with her servants and children. Two of us at a time will ride with her. The rest of us walk."

"Forgive us, madame," the duke spoke, "but we must march you from the house should anyone be watching. It should look as if you are being taken away."

"I understand," Anne-Marie said.

The duke and his party led the comtesse and her little family from their home, pushing them into the cart. Eunice and Caroline joined them, Caroline sitting next to her newly found cousin so they might speak. The duke and Lord Walworth climbed up upon the wagon seat, and chucking the reins, moved the horse into motion. The others walked next to the cart as it rumbled along. Here and there they passed peasants in the fields, preparing the soil for the new growing season.

"Vive la révolution!" they shouted, and the peasants in the fields responded in kind, "Vive la révolution!" but then they looked away, recognizing the Comtesse d'Aumont and her children, realizing what surely was happening to them, and feeling guilty at their own helplessness.

They traveled slowly over the rutted dirt road. The day which had begun gray turned grayer. A cold rain began to fall, turning the dusty track into a muddy trail. They had brought some bread and cheese from the yacht, and finally they stopped in the shelter of a hillside to rest the poor horse and feed the children who were chilled, and despite their mother's explanation, not just a little frightened. In the first hour of their travel Caroline explained the relationship between them to the countess.

"I knew my father had two brothers," Anne-Marie said, "but other than that, I knew little. Only my Uncle Frederick wrote regularly."

"Do you speak English at all?" Caroline asked her cousin.

"I fear not," came the reply.

"You will learn, and the children, too," Caroline said. "I do not know about your rather fierce Thérèse though."

"Her family has been with the d'Aumonts for centuries," the countess said. "When the revolution began her daughter ran off with a soldier, but her granddaughter, Céline, remained."

In late afternoon as they neared the coast they met a small troop of soldiers who came cantering toward them.

"Sing!" Allegra said to her companions. "Allons, enfants de la patrie, le jour de gloire est arrivé!" She waved merrily to the horsemen. "Vive la révolution, citizens!"

The cavalrymen waved back, continuing on their way. The road ahead of them was empty. No one wanted to be out unless they had to be on such an afternoon. A wind began to blow, and they could smell the sea as they drew near to it. Finally they reached the place where Captain Grant said they must leave the horse and cart. It was about a half a mile from the beach. The passengers were helped from the cart, the horse unharnessed and tied beneath a shed roof.

"We walk from here," the duke told them, and they followed. As they reached a crossroad they heard the sounds of hooves in the distance. "Into the ditch," the duke said urgently, and they tumbled into the dirt, ducking down so they could not been seen.

A party of cloaked men galloped by, taking the road to Harfleur. As soon as they were out of sight the duke signaled with his hand that they could be on their way again. They climbed, wet and shivering from the ditch, and hurried off toward the beach. Gaining the hilltop they struggled down the bluff, the sandy path giving way beneath their feet so that they half fell as they climbed down. Below they could see their boat, but the tide was coming in, and while it had been on the sand this morning, it was now beginning to bob gently in the incoming tide.

The Earl of Aston practically threw himself down the rest of the hill, and picking himself up, ran across the beach to catch at the boat and prevent it from floating away. His companions hurried after him. They helped the countess, her children, and her servants into the boat. Caroline and Eunice squeezed in along with the earl who would row. Lord Walworth, the duke, Honor, and Allegra pushed the boat out into the sea, watching as it made its way through the waves to where the Seagull lay at anchor in the rain and haze.

"We have done it!" Allegra said triumphantly to her husband.

"Wait until we are back aboard our ship to gloat," he said to her. "I will not feel at ease until I see England again, my darling."

"We were fortunate that we had no guards to beard. I thought Honor quite wonderful with her eye patch facing down that Reynaud man." She turned to Honor. "The eye patch was a stroke of genius."

Honor chuckled. "I always thought an eye patch intimidating, my lady. It wasn't hard talking down to that fellow who was at the house. I recognized his type. He was a bully, and bullies can usually be bullied."

They turned back to the sea and saw the little boat had reached Seagull. They could just make out figures climbing up, and then down the rope ladder that hung over the side of the vessel. Then the boat began to make its way back to the shore. When it arrived they found Captain Grant rowing. They hurried to climb into their transport, and head back to the ship. On board again they were eager to change from their revolutionary garb into their own clothing, which was much dryer. Bobby took the clothing from their French passengers to dry in the galley. Allegra and the others wrapped the countess, her children, and her two servants in their warm cloaks until their garments were dried again.

Captain Grant entered the cabin. "We'll weigh anchor immediately, my lords, and set a course for England. It may be a bit choppy returning. The wind has begun to come round from the north, but 'tis no bad storm." He bowed to them, and was gone.

Bobby brought chicken, bread, and cheese for them to eat. The two children were put to bed in two of the narrow hunks. The clothing was returned, not quite dry, but serviceable. The countess retired to one of the bunks along with Eunice and Caroline, who were both exhausted from their exciting day. The men sat together in a corner talking in low tones while Céline and Honor chattered, the French maid delighted to find the English maid spoke her tongue so well. Now she felt less afraid of their future.

Allegra sat quietly, old Thérèse next to her. "The man, Reynaud," she began. "Did he harm the comtesse, Thérèse? Should she be seen by a physician when we reach England?"

"Oui, he hurt her," the old woman said. "Though I didn't ask, and she did not say, I know he violated her. He always coveted his brother's wife, the cowardly cochon. But I will take care of her, madame. As long as my mistress has Céline and me by her side she needs no one else."

"I understand," Allegra said. "We will not breach her privacy, Thérèse."

"You are brave, you Englishwomen. You could have been caught," Thérèse remarked. "If you had come two days ago I do not believe you would have been so successful, but perhaps you would have. That Honneur has courage. She is resourceful. She is your servant?"

"Since my childhood," Allegra replied. "She was born upon my father's estate."

Thérèse nodded. "Tradition is a good thing, madame. These revolutionaries would destroy our way of life. That was not what Monsieur le Comte wanted from the revolution. He wanted justice and equality, but he did not want to see tradition pulled down the way it has been. They did not have to kill the king and his family, poor souls." She crossed herself with a sigh.

"Change can sometimes be cruel," Allegra agreed.

"Ahh," Thérèse said, "you have suffered from this revolution too. Madame la comtesse told me." She patted Allegra's hand in a kindly fashion. "Yet despite it all you risked your life for ours. You are obviously very much like your brother, Madame la Duchesse."

Allegra's hand went to her mouth to stifle her cry. How she had raged to all who would listen when her brother had given up his life for love. Yet she had been willing today to risk her life for the friendship she had for Lord and Lady Bellingham. Jamie, she thought, I learned more from you than I realized. A tear slipped down her cheek, but she said nothing, and Thérèse, understanding, closed her eyes and leaned back against her chair to sleep.

It took them two full days with the winds to reach England once again, but finally they sailed into Brighton and disembarked from Seagull. Ensconced in The King's Arms they dispatched messages to London to Lord and Lady Bellingham, and to Charles Trent. Then they settled down to a hot meal and a warm bed.

Chapter 16

The Comtesse d'Aumont awoke to a knocking upon her bedchamber door. Céline struggled up, bleary-eyed from the trundle where she had been sleeping. She hurried across the cold floor, and slowly opened the chamber door. She was immediately pushed aside by a fashionably dressed older lady who entered the room and burst into tears.

"Ohh, Anne-Marie, it is really you," the lady cried. "Thank God you are safe! Where are the children? The duke sent a message up to London last night, and nothing would do but that your uncle and I set out before the dawn this very morning to see for ourselves that you were safe." She bent, and hugged the startled young Frenchwoman, who also began to cry.

"Tante! Tante!" she sobbed. "How can I thank you? What can I say that you will understand how your intervention has saved us all from a horrible fate?" She clung to Lady Bellingham, weeping.

"Maman! Maman!" Marie-Claire and Jean-Robert ran into their mother's room. "Is everything all right?" the elder of the two asked.

Lady Bellingham straightened herself up, and addressed the two children. "Mes enfants, I am your grand-tante, Lady Clarice Bellingham. Welcome to England, my darlings. Welcome!"

Immediately Marie-Claire curtsied, and young Jean-Robert made a most elegant bow. "Merci, grand-tante," the young girl said.

"Merci, grand-tante," Jean-Robert echoed his sister.

"Lady Bellingham." Allegra entered the bedchamber.

"Allegra, my dear gel, what are you doing here?" the older woman said, surprised to see the Duchess of Sedgwick.

"Aunt, it was the duchess, her friends, her maid, Honor, and their husbands who rescued us. They came to the house dressed as those horrible creatures who always sit below the guillotine, knitting. Honor was wonderful. She boldly faced down the head of St. Jean Baptiste's Committee for Public Safety, suggesting that if he did not cooperate he would face a dire fate."

"We can speak of this over breakfast," Allegra said. "Come, dear Lady Bellingham, and sit down to eat with us."

Lady Bellingham had gone white with her niece's brief explanation. "You, Honor, and who else?" she gasped. "Not Eunice and Caroline?"

"Good morning, Aunt." Lady Walworth popped around the door.

"Ohh," Lady Bellingham cried, and sat down heavily upon the bed. "I cannot believe what I am being told. You might have all been killed!"

"But we weren't," Allegra said airily. "In the end it was all quite simple." She took the good woman by her arm, and drew her up. "Come, and join us. We have a private dining room, and if we do not come now, the gentlemen will have eaten everything." She laughed.

They repaired to the dining room where Lord Bellingham was being regaled by the duke and his friends regarding their adventures of the last few days. The old gentleman was most impressed, and quite delighted by their success. When his niece, in her dressing gown, entered the room, he greeted her with great affection, welcoming her and her little family to England.

"You must stay with us, of course," he told her.

"Only for a short time," the comtesse said softly. "We cannot impose upon you. I have jewelry, and a cache of gold coins I brought out with me. I must find my own home so I may look after myself, the children, and my two servants who have come with us. Without Thérèse and Céline, my children and I would not have survived."

"We will speak on it after you are well rested, m'dear," Lord Bellingham said in kindly tones, and he patted her shoulder lovingly.

"Frederick! What have you to say to these foolish gels?" Lady Bellingham demanded.

Lord Bellingham turned, gallantly saluting Allegra, Caroline, and Eunice. "My dears," he told them, "I stand in awe of the three of you. What courage. What clever planning. Allegra, I understand it was your maid, Honor, who carried the day."

"It was, my lord," Allegra admitted.

"Frederick! They could have all been killed!" Lady Bellingham said.

"But they weren't. Now, wife, I am hungry, for you rousted me from my bed at an early hour to make the trip down here to Brighton. I can wait no longer for a beefsteak, and some of those delicious-looking eggs."

Everyone laughed, including the comtesse who had not understood her uncle's words, but his tone was very telling.

They departed for London at noon, and arrived back in town shortly after dark. Reaching Morgan House on Berkley Square they discovered Lord Morgan awaiting them. Marker took their outdoor garments.

"I am relieved to see you both," Lord Morgan said as they went into the small family salon where a warm fire was burning. A young footman hurried in with the tea tray and set it down.

"Tea, Papa?" Allegra asked her parent. "I must admit to being surprised to see you up in town today."

"How was Brighton?" Lord Morgan said. "Or perhaps I should say France."

"I asked Charles not to tell you," Allegra said, calmly handing a cup of tea to her husband, and then another to her father.

"He had no choice, Allegra. I arrived in London yesterday. Had I come today he might have been able to keep your folly from me, but when you did not return by late last night he had no choice but to tell me. Only Quinton's message saved me undue worry." He turned to his son-in-law. "And you, sir? Could you not prevent your wife from playing this dangerous game?"

"Sir," the duke returned, "when you were her guardian, could you prevent her from her headstrong ways?"

Lord Morgan sighed. "I had hoped her fondness for you would have made her change. I see now that it has not."

"Oh, Papa," Allegra wheedled him, "do not fuss. We have been, and gone. The Bellinghams are delighted that we were able to rescue Anne-Marie and her children. We even brought two of the countess's servants with us. The old cook, Thérèse, killed the head of the Committee for Public Safety so we might escape. And remember when you thought it amusing that Honor learned to speak French? Well, Papa, it was Honor who was our greatest heroine. She pretended to be our leader, and knew just how to speak to this dreadful man. She had him quite intimidated, Papa. I don't know what we would have done without her."

Lord Morgan sighed. "It is over now, thank goodness, but Allegra, I hope that you and Quinton will never do such a foolish thing again."

"No, Papa, we are going home to Hunter's Lair in a few days," Allegra told her father. "We have had enough excitement, and enough of London now to last a lifetime."

"I want you to stop down at Morgan Court before you go home," he told her. "Your stepmother has not been well at all, and wishes to see you both."

"Papa! What is the matter?" Allegra looked truly worried.

"Nothing dire, daughter, but Olympia wants to see you. That is why I came up to London. I shall return tomorrow. Then you and Quinton will follow in a few days' time when you have made all your good-byes."

“Aunt Mama has not been well for several months," Allegra told her husband later that evening as they cuddled together in their hed. "I wonder what the matter can he. She and Papa love each other very much. I should not like to see him hurt. You don't think she is going to die, Quinton, do you?" Her violet eyes were troubled.

"Your father said it was nothing dire. I believe we should take him at his word, my darling," the duke replied. "Now, I seem to recall that before we left for France, you made me a rather earnest speech about our need for heirs." His look was mischievous. "I believe we should now begin attempting to remedy our lack, Duchess, eh?"

To his surprise she pushed him away. "Forgive me, Quinton, but I am too worried about Aunt Mama to involve mysell wholeheartedly in passion. Do not be angry with me, please." She kissed him lightly.

He was admittedly surprised, but he actually understood. "I love you, Allegra, and nothing can change that," he told her.

"You are so good to me, my darling," she responded.

They set off for Morgan Court two days later. It was a journey of several days from London, and then their own home was another few days farther. The inns in which they stayed were comfortable, but Allegra found herself more worried about her stepmother as each mile passed. Olympia had virtually raised her, and Allegra loved her. She had been so happy to marry Lord Morgan, and he had certainly been happy to have a wife after all his years of enforced bachelorhood. What could have gone wrong?

They reached Morgan Court at teatime. A footman hurried from the house to open the coach door. He lowered the steps of the vehicle, and helped the Duchess of Sedgwick dismount her carriage. Her dark green velvet cloak with its beaver-trimmed hood clutched about her, Allegra went straight into the house, flinging her cloak to a footman, her husband following behind. Her father came forth to greet her.

"My dear child. Come, Olympia is waiting for you both," he said, and led them into a small salon where his wife awaited their visitors.

Lady Morgan arose from her settee, and came forward, her hands outstretched in greeting. "Allegra. Quinton," she said, greeting them.

Allegra gave a little shriek of surprise. "Aunt Mama! What has happened to you?" she cried, quite distressed. Her stepmother's body was swollen and misshapen. "What is this terrible and abnormal growth that has taken ahold of your body? Do not tell me, I pray you, that you are going to die. I could not bear it!"

Olympia Morgan laughed softly. "Thank you, my darling, for loving me, but no, 1 do not expect to die. Sit down, Allegra. Your father and I have news to share with you. We would have told you sooner, but we could not believe it ourselves, and for several months ignored the signs. I am expecting a child, Allegra. Come May, you and Sirena will have a new baby brother, or sister. Both your father and I assumed we were past such things as infants, but it would appear that we are not. I have not told Sirena yet for her time is too near, and I would not shock her as I have obviously shocked you," Lady Morgan concluded.

Allegra's gaze went from her stepmother to her father. They were having a baby. Together. They were old. Old! Yet they were having a baby. She had been wed over five months, and she was not with child, and she was young. Quinton was young. Her father and Aunt Mama were old, but there her stepmother sat, fat and burgeoning with new life. She did not know if she could tolerate it. It was simply too awful!

"We shall, my lord, have to discuss the terms of Allegra's marriage portion," Lord Morgan said to the duke, "and renegotiate it under the circumstances, as I will now have another heir to consider."

"Of course," Quinton Hunter agreed. "I perfectly understand, sir."

Allegra stood up. "I want to go home," she said, and walked from the salon without so much as a farewell to her father and stepmother.

"It is late, the horses are tired," the duke called alter her.

"We will take fresh horses from the stables," Allegra said in a stony voice. "I want to go home!"

"There," Lady Morgan said to her husband. "Did I not tell you we should have told her sooner, Septimius? Now Allegra is upset, and heaven only knows how Sirena will respond when we finally speak to her."

"I will fetch her back," the duke told them. "She has gone out without her cloak."

"No," Lady Morgan said. "I know Allegra better than you, sir, and believe me, this has come as a terrible shock to her. take her home, and let her digest all of our news. Until she can come to terms with herself she will be unhappy. And, Septimius, there will be no renegotiations regarding Allegra's status until after our child is born. Is that understood?"

"Yes, m'dear," Lord Morgan said. Then he turned to his son-in-law. "Go along, Quinton. We will talk again eventually."

The duke found his wife huddled in their coach shivering. He wrapped her fur-lined cape around her, having retrieved it from a footman. "Where are we going?" he asked, his voice laced with humor.

She glared up at him. "How can you jest, sir, in light of this revolting development? There is an inn about two hours away on the road home. It is respectable enough though not grand." Then clutching her cloak about her she turned away from him, and remained silent for the next few hours until they had reached their destination.

Although they had never stayed at the Ducks and Drake, the innkeeper recognized them at once. Bowing, he ushered them into his establishment, apologizing that it was small, and he could but offer them his largest bedroom.

"We are grateful you are able to accommodate us at all," the duke told him graciously. "We will want supper. Do you have a private room where we may dine, sir?"

"Indeed, my lord, I do," the innkeeper assured him, bowing again. "And I have smaller rooms for your servants, too."

"Excellent," the duke said heartily. "Now if you will show us to our private room, we are ready for our supper. It has been a long day, and it is still quite chilly even if it is spring."

"I have some rather good sherry, Your Grace," the innkeeper said. "Shall I bring it?"

The duke nodded with a smile, and then escorted his wife to the little dining room the innkeeper offered them.

Allegra managed to hold her peace as the innkeeper and a maidservant bustled about them, taking her outdoor garment, bringing the sherry, pouring it into small glasses. However, when the door closed behind those offering them service, she burst out, "I cannot believe it! How could they do such a thing? It is so embarrassing that two people their age should have an infant. I realized what they were doing behind those closed doors before we were married, but I never expected that their excesses should lead to a baby!"

"Why not?" her husband asked.

"Why not?" Her voice was close to a shriek. "My father is over fifty. And Aunt Mama is over forty. That is why not. People that age do not have babies, Quinton. My stepmother's last baby was my cousin, Sirena. Heaven only knows what poor Sirena will think when she learns about this. Her own baby's aunt, or uncle, will be younger than her own child. It is obscene!"

"I think it rather romantic," the duke told his wife.

"How you have changed," she said scornfully. "There was a time when you were a practical man, Quinton. Now you consider it romantic that your aged father-in-law and his wife are about to be new parents when we are not. My father does not need an heir. He has one."

"So, that is what troubles you, Allegra," her husband said quietly. "You will have to share your father's wealth with a new sibling."

"Did you not match the bluest blood in England with the richest girl in England, sir? I shall no longer be the richest girl in En gland, Quinton. If my father has another son, we shall be poorer by a considerable amount. You had best pray Aunt Mama whelps another girl. At least then we shall retain half of what we have."

"It doesn't matter," he told her, taking her hands in his. "A year ago I would not have said such a thing to you, nor believed it if anyone had said it to me. I went to London to seek a rich wile. I found her. I did not, however, plan on falling in love with her, yet I did. Hunter's Lair has been restored. Nay, it is better than it ever was, Allegra, and that is thanks to you and your father's generosity. Your father negotiated a fabulous yearly sum upon you and upon me. Neither of us has spent a great deal of those monies for we are both frugal by nature. We could live comfortably for the rest of our lives on what your father has given us this year alone. And what of your investments, my darling duchess? Unless one of us takes to gambling, we shall never be poor, Allegra. Whatever your father decides he wants to give us after this child is born will be suitable. Septimius Morgan is a fair man." Quinton Hunter put his arms about his wife. "I am content with just you, my darling."

"It is not only the wealth involved," she said to him. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to be barren at my age, especially when both my cousins and my stepmother are about to have a child? My wealth is going to be taken away from me, and I cannot even give you an heir, Quinton. It appears to me that you have gotten a bad bargain in me."

"Do you love me?" he asked looking down into her distraught face. "Do you love me, my darling duchess?"

"Ido!" she cried. "How can you ever doubt it?"

"Then why do you doubt me, Allegra? I love you, and all your wealth means nothing to me as long as you love me back," he told her. Then he kissed her passionately.

She clung to him, her eyes welling with tears. He was a good man, but she knew he could not possibly really mean what he was saying. He had not yet had time to consider the situation. But, oh, she wanted to believe! They would return to Hunter's Lair, and he would soon see his wife with her pittance as a very bad bargain. Especially if she could not at least keep her end of their marriage bargain and produce a son for him.

He sensed her distress. I low was he to make her believe that he loved her no matter what happened? He sighed, and held her close, his lips brushing the top of her hair.

Their dinner came, but Allegra ate little. She had lost her appetite, and nothing tasted good to her. The duke on the other hand ate heartily of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, salmon broiled with dill sauce, green beans, bread, butter, cheese, and a caramel custard. The innkeeper had a surprisingly good supply of good French Bordeaux, and Quinton Hunter drank three goblets down with his meal.

The next morning they departed early after a hearty country breakfast that Allegra picked at while her husband ate, as she put it, "like a field hand." The innkeeper provided them with a basket for luncheon. They stopped to rest the horses at noon, and by two o'clock were on the road again. At four as they were about to pass by a rather prosperous-looking inn a man ran out and flagged them down.

"Duke of Sedgwick?" he asked.

"I am the Duke of Sedgwick," Quinton Hunter said, sticking his head from the carriage.

"Lord Morgan has sent ahead, Your Grace. We have your accommodations and your own prime cattle waiting in the stables. Lord Morgan asks that his men be allowed to return his horses tomorrow. If you'll turn in, and come this way, my lord." The man swung about, and taking the harnesses of the lead horses escorted the duke's coach into the innyard.

"How thoughtful," Allegra said sourly.

"She's in a right evil mood," Honor murmured softly to Hawkins as they descended the carriage. "I've never seen her this way, and I've been with her since she was a child."

"Spoilt rotten she is," Hawkins pronounced.

"You keep on like that, and I'll not wed you, Honor snapped.

"You have to now that I've put that baby in yer belly," Hawkins grinned wickedly. "As soon as we gets back to Hunter's Lair, my girl!"

"Shut yer gob, Peter Hawkins! That's all she needs to know, that I'm having a baby and she ain't! You say one word, and I swear, I'll kill you!"

"Don't know how long you can keep it a secret, lass," he said.

"Long enough if I have to," Honor replied.

"She don't deserve you, lass," the valet said softly.

Another day's travel, and they finally reached Hunter's Lair. They had been gone for two months, having left in the dead of winter to go up to London. Now, however, spring was here. The hillsides about them were green, and awash with golden daffodils. The trees in the orchards were beginning to look alive, their buds swelling. Several of the duke's mares had foaled, and the youngsters were already turned out into the fields during the day with their dams. The house looked wonderful in the late afternoon light, the sun turning the windows facing west a luscious red and gold like molten fire.

Allegra felt herself actually cheering up at the sight of her home. She smiled to herself, and the duke was heartened when he saw that small smile, and the pleasure in her eyes. Reaching out, he took her gloved hand in his and gave it a little squeeze. Her eyes met his, and she smiled again.

"I never want to leave here," she told her husband.

"Neither do I," he said. "We shall be as snug as two bugs in a rug forever, my darling duchess."

Crofts came forth from the house to greet them. "Welcome home, Your Graces," he said warmly. "I have a message for you that came this morning from Viscount Pickford. The footman who brought it says Lady Sirena has had her baby." He handed Allegra the sealed packet.

Allegra took it, and quickly broke open the seal. Her eyes flew over the page, her smile widening. Then she looked up at Quinton. "It's a boy!" she told him. "George Octavius William, and we are his godparents. Is the footman still here?" she asked Crofts.

"No, Your Grace, I sent him back. We did not know when to expect you," Crofts told his mistress.

Her face fell, but then she brightened. "I need time to write to Sirena. I shall send one of our people over in the morning. Perhaps we shall go ourselves, Quinton. A little boy! How happy they must be," Allegra said almost wistfully.

"You must rest for several days," the duke told her. "A winter in London, followed by our recent adventures, and all this travel make it very necessary for you to take your ease for a short while. I do not want you getting sick, Allegra." He took her hand up and kissed it tenderly. "Remember, Duchess, we have work to do yet if we are to catch up with Sirena and Ocky."

Allegra smiled sadly, pulling her hand away from him. "I shall go, and write to Sirena now so that it may go off first thing in the morning."

They ate their dinner in silence. Allegra had to admit that she was tired. They climbed into bed together, and he cuddled her in his arms, kissing the top of her head, but he knew instinctively that she was not in the mood to make love. Allegra, the duke understood, needed, as her stepmother had said, to come to terms with what was happening. He slept soundly in his bed, awakening to find the sun streaming into the chamber, and Allegra gone from their bed. He called to her, but received no answer. He pulled on the bell cord.

"Good morning, Your Grace!" Hawkins answered his summons almost immediately.

"Has the duchess gone down to breakfast?" he asked his valet.

"No, my lord. Her Grace ran off at first light. I believe Honor said she was going to visit the viscountess and the new baby."

"Damnation!" The word slipped out before he could prevent it, and he saw Hawkins hide a smile. He turned the subject. "When are you and Honor getting married?"

"Three weeks, Your Grace," the valet answered. "The banns have got to be read. And it won't be a moment too soon, it you gets my drift, my lord." He winked at his master.

"Good lord!" the duke exclaimed as his valet's words sunk into his sleep-befogged brain.

"Honor says we can't tell Her Grace, my lord, but I thought you ought to know," Hawkins said.

"Yes," the duke agreed, "but Her Grace will know eventually, won't she, Hawkins?"

"Aye, sir, but 'tis to be hoped that Her Grace will, by then, be in the family way herself," came the reply. Then Hawkins actually blushed. "Begging your pardon, my lord."

Quinton Hunter waved his hand. " ‘Tis all right, Hawkins. Are my clothes and shaving gear laid out in the dressing room?"

"Aye, sir."

"Then see that there is something for me to eat, and then go to the stables and have my stallion saddled. I'll have to ride overto the Earl of Pickford's estate after my breakfast," the duke told his valet. He climbed from his bed, lifting his nightshirt to pee in the chamber pot that Hawkins held out for him.

He dressed, and after a hearty breakfast, rode out. He didn't know whether to be angry at Allegra or not. She was exhausted, he knew. Their adventure in France, for all the ease with which they had accomplished their mission to rescue the Comtesse d'Aumont, had been harrowing. She was distressed by her father and stepmother's news, and equally upset that she was not having a child yet. But she would. Of that he was quite certain. They would have children if he could but make love to her again.

It was a beautiful spring day. The air held a hint of warmth. The flowers bloomed on the roadside. The meadows were filled with lambs who gamboled and chased one another while their dams baaed fretfully. It was the kind of spring day that poets wrote odes about, he thought. He reached Pickford Hall in midmorning, was shown into a morning room, and offered wine, which he declined.

"Have you seen him?'' Viscount Pickford demanded by way of greeting his oldest friend as he entered the room.

"I have only just arrived," the duke said, amused.

"Allegra said you wouldn't be coming probably for several days," Ocky said.

"I told Allegra not to come for several days," the duke replied. "Has she told you of our adventures in France?"

"France?" Viscount Pickford was astounded. "No. What the hell were you doing in Froggieland, Quint? And Allegra was with you?"

"And Marcus, Eunice, Adrian, and Caroline, too. And did I mention that Allegra's maid, Honor, speaks rather good French?" he concluded with a chuckle. Then he added, "But first I would see your heir."

"Damn you, sir, I cannot refuse my son's godfather his first glimpse, but then you are going to sit down and tell me everything,'' Viscount Pickford declared.

"Agreed," the duke answered his friend. "Where is my wife, by the way?"

"With Sirena. Allegra has cooed Georgie to death, and now is gossiping with my wife. She looks tired, not at all at her best, I fear."

The duke followed his friend up the stairs to the nursery where he was given a peek at his three-day-old godson, a plump pink and white lump of infant with a tuft of pale golden hair. The baby opened a pair of rather bright blue eyes to observe his visitor, and then closed them again, as if to say, I don't find you important to my existence right now, and so you are dismissed.

The duke chuckled with amusement.

"Who do you think he looks like?" the viscount demanded to know.

"He looks like an old gentleman right now," the duke responded, "so I suppose we could say he looks like your father. I assume the earl is pleased with your first efforts."

"Over the moon," Ocky said with a grin as they left the nursery to return to the morning room.

"And Sirena is recovering from her ordeal?"

"She carried him like a prize mare, and birthed him like a woman in the fields. It was amazing! That dainty little slip of a girl I've wed. The doctor said he had never seen anything like it. Says she can go on breeding for years to come."

"It must run in the family," the duke said as they entered the morning room again and sat down.

"What on earth do you mean?" the viscount queried.

"This is for your ears alone, Ocky. You cannot tell Sirena until her mother does. Lady Morgan is expecting a baby in Maw" the duke said, and then laughed aloud at the look on his friend's lace.

Finally Ocky said, "You are jesting, of course."

Quinton Hunter shook his head in the negative.

"Damn me if that doesn't beat all," the viscount said. "That's why she hasn't been about in recent months, isn't it? Is she all right?"

"Other than being as big as a sow about to litter, she seems to be. Allegra, however, is very upset by this turn of events."

"Of course she would be," Ocky said. "She is now no longer her father's heiress. She will have to share with her new sibling, and if it is a boy, her portion will be greatly cut."

"I don't care," the duke said, "but my wife does not believe that. She is now desperate to have an heir. She sees her failure to do so as some sort of flaw on her part. She is quite angry."

"Tell me about France," the viscount replied. "What the hell were you all doing in France?

"Ahh, Ocky, you and Sirena missed a grand adventure. It was quite mad of us. I knew it before we set off, and in retrospect I realize how damned lucky we all were to get back alive." Then he went on to elucidate to his friend the tale of the Comtesse d'Aumont's plight, and how they had rescued her, her children, the fierce old Thérèse, and Céline. "If we had been caught we would have all faced the guillotine. Especially as the old cook murdered the head of the Committee for Public Safety in St. Jean Baptiste, though 1 doubt he'll be missed. The local priest saw to the disposal of his body, and forgave the cook her sin." He chuckled.

"I would have liked to have been with you," the viscount said.

"We thought about you the entire time," the duke teased his best friend.

"The hell you did," Ocky laughed. "You were far too busy making certain none of you were caught. Imagine Allegra's little maid taking charge like that, and pulling it off. She's a game gel, Honor is. I was never very good with French, though you certainly are."

"Is Sirena up to seeing me? And then I must collect my wife, and return home. 1 would imagine Sirena cannot take too much company, and is probably too nice to send Allegra away."

The Duchess of Sedgwick looked surprised to see her husband as he entered the viscountess's bedchamber. The duke went over to Sirena, kissed her upon the forehead, and said, "He is an absolutely lovely boy, my dear Sirena. You have done well for yourself, and for Ocky."

"It was an easy birth," Sirena admitted.

"So Ocky tells me," was the reply.

"I think Doctor Thatcher was rather surprised," Sirena said with a smile, and a little twinkle in her eye. "Oh, Quinton, I have had such a lovely visit with Allegra."

"But now you are ready to rest, I am certain, my dear. Allegra also needs her rest, but nothing could prevent her from coming immediately to see you. You will let us know when the baby's christening is to be set? Come, madame, we have a long ride home."

"I thought I should stay a few days with Sirena," Allegra responded surlily. "After all, Quinton, I have not seen my cousin in several months, and we have a great deal to catch up on, sir."

"Birthing an infant, no matter how quick the process, is difficult, Allegra," the duke told his wife. "Sircna needs to rest." I lc reached out and clamped his hand about her upper arm. "Come, my darling girl."

Her look was one of complete outrage, but she obeyed. "I shall be back," she told Sirena.

"Eventually," the duke said, and then led his wile from the room, almost forcibly.

"I should have thought to ask Allegra to remain," Sirena said. "Run after them, Ocky, and tell them."

"No, my dearest, Allegra must go home," the viscount said to his surprised wife. Then he sat down next to her. "Let me tell you what your cousin and our friends have been doing." He then proceeded to regale her with the tale of the Bellinghams' niece and her family. He finished by saying, "They have just returned I mm France via London. Allegra is exhausted, but refuses to admit it. Quint wants to get her home so she may rest. You can see how washed out she is, sweetheart."

"But it was so wonderful to see her," Sirena said, "especially since Mama has not come. I do not understand it. Do you think something has happened to Mama, and Steppapa doesn't want to tell me for fear of harming our baby? Well, the baby is born and healthy, and I have sent to Mama two days ago and have no answer. You must go to Morgan Court tomorrow, Ocky, and bring my mother back to me."

"I think that is an excellent idea, sweetheart," the viscount answered his wife. "I shall start in the morning." He kissed her gently. "Go to sleep now, Sirena." Then he left her bedchamber, and hurried downstairs, just catching the duke and Allegra. "Quintan," he called. "Sirena wants to see her mama. What am I to do?"

"You told him?" Allegra's voice was icy.

"I thought it necessary," the duke said.

"Must the entire world know that my ancient stepmother is having a baby, and I am not?" Allegra demanded.

"You had best tell Sirena so she doesn't fret, and you do not have to take the long ride to Morgan Court," the duke advised.

"No. I shall tell her," Allegra cried, and dashed back up the stairs to her cousin's bedchamber.

Sirena was just dozing off. She sat up as Allegra slammed into her room. "Wh… what is it?" she said, startled. "Oh, Allegra, you have come back, dearest."

"I just came to tell you that Aunt Mama will not be coming to see you immediately. Quinton and I stopped at Morgan Court on our way back from London. Your mother is expecting a baby in May, Sirena. Isn't it awful? I didn't want you to be as embarrassed as I am over this state of affairs, but I also didn't want you to worry as to why she was not here with you and her grandson, where she should be," Allegra finished in a self-righteous tone.

"Mama is to have a baby?" Sirena's face shone with a mixture of amazement and delight. "Ohh, Allegra how wonderful! Now we shall be truly bound not just by our mother's blood, but by our little half sibling. How is she? Is she all right? What incredible news you have brought me, dearest. Ocky! Do you know? Mama is to have a baby."

"Yes,'' Allegra suddenly burst out bitterly. "A baby. A child who will take away my inheritance, and make Quinton hate me for not being the richest girl in England. But did our parents consider that when they fornicated like two dogs on the road? No. All they thought about was themselves, and not my happiness. You have a baby, Sirena. Now your mother is to have a baby, but I cannot seem to have a baby!" Then bursting into tears Allegra ran from the room and down the stairs.

Quinton Hunter followed after his wife, watching her as she dashed out the front door of Pickford Hall and mounted her horse. He watched as she kicked the beast into a canter and rode away. The groom holding his mount helped him up, and flipping a coin at the man, the duke followed after his wife. He was torn between the desire to kiss her, to comfort her, and to spank her soundly. She had sounded like nothing more than a spoiled brat, and he was frankly amazed. What had happened to the logical and practical young woman he had married? He encouraged his horse to a (aster gait in order to catch up, or at least keep apace of Allegra.

Sirena had climbed from her bed, and gone to her window to watch her cousin tear off in a temper. "I did not consider that this might upset her," she said slowly. "Lord, I have been thoughtless."

"I think it is Allegra who has been inconsiderate, and heedless," the viscount said to his wife.

"No, Ocky, don't say that. You do not understand. Allegra and her brother, James Lucian, were devoted to each other. Until a few years ago she wasn't the richest girl in England, nor did she care if she was. Then her brother was killed in France. It is not the money that disturbs my cousin, but the thought that her lather could replace James Lucian with another son."

"Did she not say to you that now Quinton wouldn't love her?" Ocky said stubbornly.

"Certainly she knows better than that," Sirena replied with a small smile. "But you will recall that Quinton Hunter with his bluer than blue blood made a match with Allegra first because she was the richest heiress in England. Allegra doesn't really understand the nature of true love so how can she believe, even if he says it, that her husband truly loves her, and would love her even if she were poor? And there is the matter of an heir for Sedgwick, Ocky. Suddenly that becomes most paramount for Allegra for she is faced with the loss of probably half or more of her fortune, or value. Of course she is angry and upset."

"What can we do to help?" Viscount Pickford wondered aloud.

"We can do nothing," Sirena said quietly. "It is now up to Quinton Hunter to convince his wife that no matter what happens he will love her forever and a day, and even beyond. It will not be an easy, or a simple task." Sirena watched as the duke rode after Allegra. She could but imagine how her beloved cousin felt right now. Lost. Bereft. And she was correct about one thing. It really was embarrassing that her own mother was having a baby at this time in her life, although, Sirena thought, I will never say it. I will be happy for Mama, and Steppapa. Then she giggled to herself. She would have never imagined that Olympia Abbott Morgan was still interested, and obviously if one was to believe Allegra, very interested in matters of the flesh. But she and Lord Morgan obviously were.

"What's so funny?" her husband asked Sirena.

"I thought how amusing that at their ages Mama and Steppapa would still be being naughty. 1 did not realize one's interest could last that long," Sirena answered her husband. "Do you think we shall still be interested in being naughty when we are their age, Ocky?"

"I certainly hope so, my darling girl," the viscount replied. "I certainly hope so!"

Chapter 17

“I want to go up to London," Allegra told her husband.

"We have just come back from London," he replied calmly. Living with his bride of six months had not been very easy these past few weeks.

"Nevertheless, Quinton, I wish to go. I am bored here. I have nothing to do. If you do not wish to come, I will understand," she responded coldly.

A message had come this morning from Aston, he knew. "You have heard from Eunice?" he attempted to change the subject.

"Yes," she said shortly.

"She is well, and Marcus, too?" He tried to elicit more information from her than she seemed willing to share with him.

"They are both well. Why wouldn't they be? She is expecting a child. She says Caroline believes she is with child, too. I, however, am not expecting a child, and I wish to go up to London. If you really loved me you would not question my motives, Quinton. I repeat. I am bored here in the country. I may even want to go to Brighton this summer. I obviously have nothing in common with my friends any longer. Why would I? They are fertile, and I, it would appear, am barren."

"If you wish to go up to London for a few weeks," he told her, "then I see no reason why you should not. I, however, must remain here at Hunter's Lair, Allegra. I have an estate to manage. And we cannot go to Brighton this year. I want you home, Allegra. I know that you are shocked by the fact your father and his wife are expecting a baby. You need time to come to terms with it. So if going to London is what you want to do, go. You shall not conceive an heir for me if we are apart, but that is your choice, my dear."

He was angry at her. He couldn't help himself. Allegra had become a self-pitying little bitch these past few weeks. He had done everything, he thought, to reassure her of his love, but for some reason he could not fathom, she didn't believe him. It was irritating to say the least. What was the matter with her?

"I'll tell Honor to pack a trunk, and be gone tomorrow," Allegra said. "I will not need much for I intend having Madame Paul make me an entire new wardrobe."

"She made you one seven months ago," he reminded her.

Allegra shrugged. "I thought while I still have the ready, Quinton, I would have a fashionable wardrobe made. When Papa's new child comes along there will be little for me."

"You do not know that," he almost shouted. "Until a few years ago you had a brother, James Lucian, and your father denied you nothing," the duke told her.

"This will be a boy," Allegra said angrily. "I just sense it. He will become Papa's heir, and I will have little. Papa is besotted with his new wife. She will influence him, and her first interest will be for her son, and not for me. Do you not understand, Quinton? You bartered your good name, and now you have been cheated."

"I love you!" he shouted at her. "I have not been cheated, damnit! I am only cheated if you run away to London and do not stay by my side where you belong, Allegra." He caught her by her shoulders. "Do you not understand, my darling duchess. I love you."

"Youare kind," she said, tears welling up in her violet eyes, "but you cannot possibly want me now, Quinton."

"I have wanted you since the moment I first saw you, Allegra," he insisted. "I want you now, and I don't give a damn about your father's wealth. I love you. I want you." And then he was kissing her passionately, his hands moving beneath her chamber robe to caress her slender body. His palms cupped her buttocks, and pulled her close. She moaned softly in his embrace, unable to help herself from pressing against him. His lips slid down her throat. He pushed her robe off, and kissed her breasts. He knelt before her, his mouth engraving a line of hot kisses down her torso. He could feel her trembling beneath his lips. He pulled her down upon the floor before the fireplace. His knee nudged her soft thighs open.

"Tell me you don't want me, too, my darling duchess," he murmured hotly against her kiss-swollen lips. "Tell me!"

"No," she replied softly. "I won't tell you that because it isn't true, and you know it. I love you, Quinton." She opened herself to him, and cried out with pleasure as he entered her body. "Ahh, yes, my darling! Yes!"

She was warm, and welcoming. He buried himself as deep as he could within her luscious body. Her hips met his in rhythmic splendor. Slowly he withdrew from her, then he plunged again, and again, and again until he was dizzy with his passion for her, and she for him. When his desire for her finally burst and mushroomed into a bloom of incredible pleasure, he thought he would die from the excess of it. "I love you," he cried. "I love you, Allegra. Do not leave me."

When he awoke in the morning, still before the embers of the dying fire, she was gone, and he cursed to himself that she did not believe enough in his love to trust him. Yet she must care, he thought, noting the down coverlet had been taken from the bed and carefully tucked about him. Scrambling up he yanked at the bellpull.

"Yes, Your Grace?" Hawkins had answered his summons rather quickly, the duke thought.

"When did Her Grace leave for London?" he asked his valet.

"About an hour ago, my lord," Hawkins said grimly.

"She took Honor?" God, had she not remembered her maid's wedding was to be celebrated on Sunday?

"She did," Hawkins said sourly.

"Damnation!" the duke swore softly, and then he said to his valet, "I am sorry, Hawkins, but they'll be back."

"It had better be sooner than later," the valet told his master.

"I know," the duke said. "When does Honor believe the baby is due, Hawkins?"

"Late autumn, my lord. You would have thought that Honor would tell Her Grace now that we are to be wed," Hawkins despaired.

"Do not be angry at Honor, old friend," the duke advised his valet. "She has been with her mistress since Allegra was a child. Her loyalty to the duchess is very great as is yours to me."

"If the parson had already said the words over us I should not worry so much," Hawkins told his master. "I don't want anyone thinking my Honor a loose woman. What happens when her belly begins to show?"

"They will be back long before then, Hawkins, I am certain of it. Her Grace is frightened by her father's new child. She believes I shall not love her because she is not the richest girl in England any longer," the duke explained.

"Bloody silly, if you ask me," Hawkins muttered. "You loves Her Grace, and any fool can plainly see it."

"So I am told," Quinton Hunter said with a smile. "Her Grace will go to London, and when she has had time to consider, she will realize how ridiculous it is to believe I should not love her because she is no longer her father's only heir. They will be back quickly, for as you recall, Her Grace does not really like the city at all."

No, she didn't like London. It was dirty, and noisy, and crowded; but it wasn't Hunter's Lair. Marker was very surprised to see her, especially without her husband. Charles Trent raised an eyebrow, but made no other comment than to welcome her return to Berkley Square. The new social season was beginning, and a fresh crop of debutantes was arriving to embark on the husband hunt. She called on Lady Bellingham.

"My dear gel, I had not thought to see yon back in town for some time to come," Lady Bellingham said. She was quite her old self now that her niece had been rescued.

"I should like a voucher for Almack's," Allegra told her old patroness.

Clarice Bellingham's warm gray eyes scanned Allegra s beautiful face. It was obvious that she was distressed and running away from something. It was impossible not to probe. "Will you need one for Quinton?" she asked casually.

"My husband is not in town, nor do I expect him," Allegra replied, swallowing back her tears.

"My dear gel, what has happened?" Lady Bellingham burst out, unable to restrain herself. "Surely you are not estranged?"

"My father and Aunt Mama are having a baby. I shall no longer be the richest girl in England, madame. My husband has been cheated. I could not remain at Hunter's Lair under the circumstances. Sirena has had a little boy for Pickford. Caroline and Eunice are breeding, but I am not. I have proved a bad bargain for Sedgwick. I have come to London to think."

Lady Bellingham put a hand over her mouth to stifle her cry of astonishment. "Septimius and Olympia are breeding? You are certain?"

"Madame, I saw my father and his wife but a few weeks ago. She is quite full with her child which shall come in mid-May," Allegra answered in a tight little voice.

"Gracious me," Lady Bellingham responded. "Who would have thought that Olympia and Septimius would have a child between them at their ages, bless me. And of course your father's wealth will now be divided, but has your husband said that he is disappointed, dear gel?"

"He says he loves me, and that it doesn't matter." Allegra began to sob. "But of course it matters. My wealth was offered to him in exchange for his name. It is a good name, Lady Bellingham, a proud and honorable name that even eclipses the king's lineage."

"Has your father said that he is cutting you off, dear gel?"

"No," Allegra wailed. "He says that he and my husband must renegotiate the terms of our marriage after his child is born. A boy, however, will be given the lion's portion. My worth to my husband will be nothing now." And she wept into her hands.

Lady Bellingham considered for several long moments while Allegra cried piteously. Finally she said, "I believe you are mistaken, my dear gel. I have known Quinton Hunter for his entire life. He is proud of his heritage, and it is true he sought a rich wife, but I know he loves you dearly. Your father's wealth is so great that even if you were given but a third of it, you should still be a very rich woman. But Quinton would love you nonetheless, my dear gel, even if you had nothing."

"How can you believe that?" Allegra wailed.

"Because for all his bluster last season about not falling in love, Quinton Hunter did just that. He fell in love with you. The fact that your papa settled an incredible amount on you no longer makes any difference. But Septimius Morgan will not cut you off. He will, I am certain, see you and Quinton have a most handsome allowance. Certainly far better than other young couples. You are being quite silly. Now dry your eyes. You can trust your husband. Spend a few days in London amusing yourself, and then go home, dear gel."

"You really think it will be all right?" Allegra sniffed. "Oh, dear Lady Bellingham, I do not know what is the matter with me these days!"

"Why, you are breeding, dear gel. Didn't you realize it?" the older woman replied. "You are at least two months gone, I should guess. And," she concluded quite archly, "I am very good at guessing."

"What?" Allegra was truly astounded. It wasn't possible!

"You are breeding, dear child," Lady Bellingham repeated. "You are going to have a baby."

"I can't be," Allegra cried.

"And why not? You do have normal relations with your husband, don't you? Of course you do. And when was the last time you had any show of blood? Think!"

Allegra clapped a hand over her mouth. "Ohhhh!" she gasped.

"Women who are breeding are often given to foolish fancies, my dear gel," Lady Bellingham said calmly. "And more often than not they do not see the forest for the trees. It probably happened just before you went to France." She smiled a kindly smile, and reaching out, patted Allegra's hand. "Rest a few days from your journey, and then return home. I believe your husband will he very happy to learn your news."

"I should be certain," Allegra said slowly.

"I shall send Doctor Bradford to see you tomorrow morning. He has looked after me for years, and is most discreet," Lady Bellingham told her guest. "Now, shall we have some tea?"

"Yes, please," Allegra said. "And cake, too, I hope."

Lady Bellingham laughed. "Of course, dear gel. Of course."

Allegra returned to her father's house to discover she had a visitor.

"My dear duchess, I will admit to being most surprised at hearing you were back in town," George Brummell said as he kissed her hand.

"It was a whim, sir, but now that I am here, I believe I shall return home within the week. Quinton could not come. Something about the horses and a breeding schedule," she replied airily.

"Well then, if your duke is not about to escort you around, dear duchess, I hope you will allow me to be your cicisbeo while you are here. I am going to a delicious new gambling hell tonight, and while I understand you do not gamble, you must come with me, and be seen."

"Why, sir, I do believe that I shall accept your invitation, and while I do not as a rule gamble, I might join you tonight in that wicked vice," Allegra laughed. "Where are we going?"

"It is in St. James, Your Grace, and quite new. It has been opened by an Italian gentleman. He claims to have fled Venice in advance of a French general, Bony-part. The place is most cosmopolitan with émigrés from France and Italy, as well as the crème de la crème of the ton. We shall probably meet Prinny there. Shall I call for you at ten?"

"That would be perfect, Mr. Brummell. I have never before experienced the wicked life here in London," Allegra said. "Perhaps I should, just once before I return to the country." She smiled at him, and gave him her hand to kiss.

He did so, and smiling in return said, "Until tonight, Your Grace.

“Neither your husband, nor your father would approve of you gambling, Your Grace," Charles Trent said quietly as he stepped from the door of his personal billet.

"I shall want a thousand pounds, Charles," Allegra told her father's secretary. "I shall not, I promise you, lose any more than that. I am not addicted to gambling, and have self-control."

"No one is addicted at first, Your Grace, but the lure of the games is irresistible. Go with Mr. Brummell if you will, but take your own carriage. That way you are free to return home whenever you desire."

Allegra nodded in agreement. She valued Charles Trent's advice, but just this once she would do something impractical and wicked. Just once. Then she would return home to Hunter's Lair to tell her husband that she was breeding, and would deliver him an heir before year's end. If Dr. Bradford confirmed Lady Bellingham's conclusion. She hurried upstairs.

She wore black and silver, and carried an ermine muff that had a ruby and diamond pin fastened to it. Her jewelry was also rubies and diamonds, including a hair ornament nestling within her smooth elegant chignon, which was not at all fashionable, but which suited her quite well as Mr. Brummell observed. At her suggestion he released his own hired coach, helping Allegra into her vehicle. Then giving the coachman directions, he joined her. Within a very short time they arrived at St. James, the carriage-stopping before a well-kept house that was all alight at every window. They stepped from the coach.

"Good heavens, isn't that the Duchess of Devonshire?" Allegra asked, staring at the very beautiful woman just now entering the mansion.

"Indeed it is," Mr. Brummell replied. "I understand that she has already gone through her allowance for the year. Several hundred thousand pounds, I am told. She is not a lucky gambler, I tear."

"Where does she get the ready to gamble with then?" Allegra wondered.

"The moneylenders, friends, relations, sometimes even strangers," Mr. Brummell replied. "She is quite charming, and people tend to like her, so they indulge her terrible vice, even though most of them know they haven't a chance of regaining what they have loaned."

He escorted her up the two marble steps into Casa di Fortuna. Footmen, attired in sky blue and gold silk livery, and wearing powdered wigs, took their outer garments. Others offered them wine in exquisite Venetian crystal goblets.

"What shall we play first?" Allegra asked him. "I have never been to a gambling hell, and I am entirely in your hands, Mr. Brummell."

"I suppose you play Whist," he said.

"I do, but I have also learned a new game with dice that is called Hazard. Do they play Hazard here?"

"Perhaps later, Your Grace," he said, guiding her to a large ornate room where there were many players at many tables, playing Whist. Mr. Brummell seated her at a table that was just being opened up, and placed himself opposite her. They were quickly joined by a Lord and Lady Kenyon. They played for an hour, and to her surprise Allegra won each and every hand. Finally she grew bored, and stood up.

"I have enjoyed your company," she told Lord and Lady Kenyon. "Come Brummell, and let me see what else Casa di Fortuna has to offer us tonight." She stuffed her winnings in her muff, and moved on into another room where a wheel game was being played. "What is it called?" she asked her escort, curiously.

"Even-Odd, or E.O.," he said.

"Let's play," Allegra told him, enthusiastically.

"This is not a good game, Your Grace," he advised. "The odds in this game are usually very much in favor of the house. It is, in fact, illegal, although many of the hells have it."

"Three spins of the wheel, Mr. Brummell, and then we shall move on to the Hazard tables," Allegra promised. Then she bet on the next three turns of the wheel, and to everyone's surprise won all three turns. "How boring," she remarked, and stuffed her additional winnings into her muff once again.

Brummell was astounded. Because Allegra did not gamble she did not realize that she was having an extremely lucky night. She wanted to play Hazard. Well, he thought, why not, and he led her into another room where the game was being played. The players stood about the green baize table watching and waiting until the caster threw crabs, and lost. Such play was a bit rich for Brummell's blood and so he stood behind the Duchess of Sedgwick as she waited her turn. Next to her stood an equally beautiful woman, who noting Allegra's rather good diamonds, smiled and said, "I am the Contessa di Lince. Do you come here often?"

"It is my first, and probably last time," Allegra said with a small smile. "I am the Duchess of Sedgwick."

"You do not like it?" the lady said.

"I do not gamble as a rule, and my husband would be very angry with me if he knew I was here. He does not approve of gambling," Allegra explained to the lady. "You are English, and yet you have an Italian title, madame."

"Yes," the contessa replied, returning Allegra's smile. "I was born in England, but my late husband was Italian. I have returned because it is impossible to live decently in Roma right now with those damned French overrunning the countryside. I have taken a small house in Hanover Square. Gambling is a form of amusement for me, but offers little challenge for I rarely lose. The proprietor of this place likes me to come for I make it appear that people win," the lady laughed.

The dice were now passed to the contessa, but with a smile site handed them to Allegra. "I will only win," she said shrugging her elegant shoulders.

Allegra began to play, and once again she was overcome with luck. Soon the table at which she played was surrounded by admiring gamblers watching as she won toss after toss of the dice. Finally with a laugh she said, "I must stop. My muff will not hold all my winnings." She handed the dice to the next players, and turned to the contessa. "Shall we have champagne, madame? Brummell, do be a dear and fetch some champagne for the three of us. We shall seat ourselves in the foyer."

They found a quiet corner, and settled themselves upon a satin striped settee.

"Are you always so lucky, Your Grace?" the contessa asked.

"I don't know," Allegra said honestly. "I have, as I said, never spent an evening gambling."

"But you play cards, and you knew how to play Hazard," the contessa noted.

"We all learn to play Whist. Didn't you as a girl? As for Hazard, my friends and I cajoled their husbands into teaching us, but I have never before played for the ready."

"Your husband is not in town?" the contessa inquired of Allegra.

"No," she replied. "He doesn't like London. Quinton is a country gentleman."

"But you do like the city and its highlife?" the contessa pressed. "Ah, I was once like that, too. My first husband was a rather dull fellow, I fear."

"No, no!" Allegra said. "I don't like London at all, but we argued, and so I came up to town. However, after I spoke with my friend, Lady B., I realized how foolish I have been. I will go home in another day, madame."

"Then you love him," the contessa remarked. "One must love truly and passionately to become so angry. I never felt that with my first husband, but with my second it was a different matter altogether." She smiled softly "True love is a precious commodity, Your Grace. Treasure it. You are most fortunate."

"I was certainly lucky tonight," Allegra replied with a grin.

"You have had beginner's luck as they say," the contessa remarked smiling. "Ah, here is your friend with our champagne." She took a goblet from Mr. Brummell, and sipped thirstily. "Delicious! Carlo has exquisite taste in wines."

"Carlo?" Allegra looked puzzled.

"Carlo Bellagio, the proprietor," Mr. Brummell explained.

"Brummell! Brummell! Is that you? Where have you been?" The prince had arrived with his entourage of friends.

"Your Highness," Brummell said, bowing. "I am the Duchess of Sedgwick's cicisbeo this evening."

Allegra stood and curtsied. "Your Highness."

"Thought you went back to the country, duchess," Prinny said.

"I had to come back into town for a few days, Your Highness, and with the Season beginning, how could I resist? Mr. Brummell invited me to come with him tonight. As I have never been in a gambling hell, I decided I would come. You know how Quinton disapproves of gambling," she concluded with a twinkle and a smile.

Prinny chuckled. "Did you lose very much, Duchess? I promise I shall not tell on you should I see the duke," he chortled.

"She won," Brummell said. "It would seem she cannot lose, Your Highness. Damndest thing I have ever seen."

"I am not a great sport, Your Highness," Allegra said. "I came prepared to lose no more than a thousand pounds, but it would seem I have won fourteen thousand pounds."

"Zounds, madame, you are indeed lucky," the prince exclaimed. Then he caught sight of the Contessa di Lince. "Introduce us, Brummell," he said, "Who is this most fetching creature?"

"The Contessa di Lince, Your Highness, a refugee from the armies of France," Brummell said.

"How d'you do, Contessa," Prinny said, kissing her hand.

The contessa curtsied. "I am honored, Your Highness," she said.

"You are English?"

"I married an Italian," the contessa replied.

"Who are your people?" Prinny demanded.

"You would not have known them, sir," the contessa replied. "Do you play Whist? I should be delighted to be your partner. Like the duchess, I do not lose." She smiled seductively at him.

"You'll join us, Duchess?" Prinny said.

"You must excuse me, sir, but I came up to London to see Doctor Bradford. I should not have stayed out quite so late as it is. Will you forgive me?" She smiled winningly.

The prince beamed from ear to ear. "Is it?" he said meaningfully. "Does your husband know, madame?"

"I shall not be certain until I have consulted with Doctor Bradford," Allegra replied, "but should he confirm my suspicions, sir, you will actually be the first to know." She curtsied to him,

"Zounds, madame! I am honored," Prinny said. "Send round to me tomorrow with word."

"I will, Your Highness," Allegra told him. Then she turned to George Brummell. "If you would like to remain, Mr. Brummell, you are free to do so. I shall send my carriage back for you."

"No need, madame, I shall see Brummell safely home," the prince told her, "but he must escort you to the door, of course."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Allegra curtsied again, then turned to the Contessa di Lince. "I doubt we shall meet again, madame, but I thank you for your company this evening."

"Whose daughter are you, my dear?" the contessa said. "All night you have seemed very familiar to me. Your parents have raised you well."

"I am the daughter of Lord Septimius Morgan," Allegra responded. Then she curtsied a final time. "Good night," she said, and taking Mr. Brummell's arm she departed Casa di Fortuna.

Behind her the Contessa di Lince's hand went to her heart. She grew pale for a moment, hut quickly recovered herself. Turning to Prinny she said softly, "She did say Septimius Morgan, sir, did she not? The very rich nabob?"

"The same, madame. It was his wealth that gained the duchess her blue-blooded husband last season, although I understand that it is quite a love match," Prinny responded. Then he smiled toothily at the contessa, and took her arm. "Come, my dear, the tables await us."

"Who is her mother?" the contessa inquired.

"She was born to Lord Morgan's first wife, Lady Pandora Moore, youngest child of the old Duke of Arley A proper trollop that one. The wench ran off with another man when her daughter was two. Lord Morgan only recently remarried," Prinny said.

"To whom?" the contessa asked as she was seated at a newly opened Whist table.

"His widowed sister-in-law of all things. The dowager of Rowley, Lady Olympia Abbott. Helped raised her niece, I am told, and the girl is quite fond of her they say," Prinny replied. "They came up to London last season, Lord Morgan, Lady Abbott, her youngest daughter, Lady Sirena, and Miss Morgan. When it was all over young Lady Abbott had snagged herself Viscount Pickford, and Miss Morgan was to marry the Duke of Sedgwick, which she did in the autumn. But enough gossip, my dear. Let us play cards now." He smiled about the table as two other players joined them, Lord Alvaney, and Brummell.

The following morning Doctor Bradford arrived at Berkley Square to examine the Duchess of Sedgwick. When he had completed his task he said to her, "Your Grace is indeed with child. Based upon the information that both you and your maid have given me, I would reckon that your child will be born in late November or early December, madame. Your maid will have her child earlier in the autumn 1 observe from her form now. Is that correct, girl?" he demanded of Honor.

"Yes, sir," she replied in a little voice.

"Thank you, Doctor Bradford," Allegra responded. "I am grateful for your consultation. 1 know how busy a gentleman you are with your fine reputation. Lady Bellingham has spoken highly of you."

"Thank you, madame. You are both strong young women, but it is my considered opinion that you get home as soon as possible, and that neither of you travels again until after your babies are born."

"We shall certainly follow your advice, Doctor Bradford," Allegra said calmly. "Honor, please show the doctor out, and sir, render your bill to my father's secretary, Mr. Charles Trent, here at this house."

The doctor bowed. "Most grateful, Your Grace," he said, and then he followed Honor from the duchess's apartments.

When the maidservant returned and saw the questioning look on her mistress's face, she said quietly, "Well, m'lady, me and Peter Hawkins was to have been married last Sunday."

"Ohh, Honor, why didn't you tell me instead of allowing me to drag you all the way up to London?" Allegra cried. "I should never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"You needed me," Honor said bluntly. "Haven't I always been there for you since you was six? And I certainly wasn't going to tell you in the terrible mood you was in that I was having a baby, too. Not on top of the news you got from your papa, Lady Eunice, and Lady Caroline."

Allegra put her arms about her maid, and hugged her hard. "Oh, Honor, I don't deserve your kindness and your friendship."

"That's what Hawkins says, but he just don't know you like I do," Honor told her mistress with a mischievous twinkle.

Allegra laughed, and then she said, "We will start home tomorrow."

"Before we've been to Vauxhall, m'ladyr¹" Honor sounded very disappointed. "We talked about seeing Vauxhall on our travels up from the country. We ain't likely to get back to London any time soon."

"No," Allegra agreed, "that is true. I shall send around to Mr. Brummell, and if he is willing to take us to Vauxhall tonight then we shall return home the day after tomorrow."

Mr. Brummell sent word that both he and Prinny would be delighted to escort Her Grace, and Her Grace's maidservant to Vauxhall that evening. They would come around at four o'clock for tea, and then on to the gardens afterward. Mr. Trent, informed of Her Grace's decisions, quickly dispatched a footman to ride ahead, and make the proper reservations at the best inns for his employer's daughter.

Marker served tea with his staff of footmen as if they did it all the time with the Prince of Wales as the guest of the house. At six o'clock they set off for Vauxhall where, Prinny said, they would meet with the Countess di Lince. Prinny had taken a fancy to the elegant older woman.

Vauxhall was a marvelous pleasure garden that had opened in the year 1661, following King Charles II’s restoration. At first it could only be reached from the water. Located north of Kensington Lane, it now had another entrance in addition to its original entry to the west. The admission was currently two shillings, sixpence. Its popularity had survived for over one hundred thirty-five years because of the ever-changing variety of the exciting programs it offered the public, and of course, its five graveled promenades.

Each walk was tree- and bush-lined. The Grand Walk extended nine hundred feet from the entrance. It was thirty feet wide, and bordered with elm trees. The South Walk ran parallel to it, and was distinguished by three quite realistic archways with paintings of the ruins of the ancient city of Palmyra. Many who saw them believed them to be real. On gala nights the ruins were replaced by a Gothic Temple with an artificial fountain in its center. The South Walk was the same length and width as the Grand Walk.

To the left of the Grand Walk was the Hermit's Walk. On its right was a wilderness; on its left was a rural downs. Also running parallel to the Grand Walk and the South Walk was the Dark, or Lovers' Walk. It was quite narrow, and clandestine lovers were its most frequent guests. And finally crossing the four walks was the fifth, known as the Grand Cross Walk. It cut through the center of the gardens. The portion between the Grand Walk and the South Walk that was bound by it was called The Grove.

It was a most fashionable place in which to promenade, or to meet one's lover. This evening a concert was being held in The Grove, featuring the music of Mr. Handel and Mr. Haydn. Prinny and his party were comfortably ensconced in a supper box, which was next to The Grove. From there they could comfortably listen to the music while they were treated to an outrageously expensive supper of tiny chickens, paper-thin slices of ham and beef, pastry, and wines. The supper box was decorated with paintings by Francis Hayman. In their box the painting visualized a country scene in which simple folk were dancing about a maypole that had been set in the center of a green which was surrounded by picturesque thatched cottages.

At nine o'clock a bell was rung to indicate the famed Cascade was about to begin. An intermission was called for the concert. As it only lasted for fifteen minutes each night, and was constantly changed, they hurried from their supper box to see it. Tonight they viewed snowy peaked mountains from which a great waterfall tumbled over rocks into a frothy pool below. This was followed by a display of fireworks, and then they returned to their box to enjoy the rest of their concert.

"I ain't never seen anything that grand," Honor whispered to her mistress. It was not unusual that a servant be included in such an outing. The contessa had an elderly servant named Anna with her as well. Respectable women in the company of gentlemen not their husbands frequently traveled with a female servant.

"How long will you be in London, Your Grace?" the Contessa di Lince asked Allegra.

"We shall return home on Thursday," was the reply. "I must stop at my father's house on the way to Hunter's Lair. My stepmother is expecting a baby any day now."

"Is she?" The contessa looked a bit surprised. "Your father had other children?"

"I had a brother, James Lucian," Allegra said. "He was murdered in Paris during the Terror. He had gone there to marry a young lady. She and her family were arrested by the authorities. My brother would not leave her to die alone. He was very brave." Tears welled up in her eyes. "If my child is a son, perhaps I shall name him for my brother."

"You are expecting a baby?" the contessa said softly.

"Yes," Allegra confided. "That is why I must hurry home. I only came up to London to confirm my suspicions, and Lady Bellingham's physician, Doctor Bradford, has done just that. I am so happy, and my husband will be happy, too. We want a large family."

"Do you? I, myself, have never really enjoyed children, but now that my husband is dead, I regret what I have missed," the contessa said frankly. Then she turned to Prinny, smiling. "I hope we shall play cards again, Your Highness. I did so enjoy last evening."

"Indeed, madame, as I did," the prince responded. "And you were quite a lucky partner for me." He lowered his voice slightly. "My luck is not always as good as it was last night."

"I am at your service, Your Highness," the contessa said.

"I am happy to hear it, madame," Prinny replied, and his glance went to her décolletage. "Very happy, madame," he murmured.

George Brummell, a clever young man, had noted when the contessa turned away from Allegra, her eyes had been filled with tears. Curious, he thought, and then determined he would learn the reason why. As they left The Grove to promenade back to where their carriages awaited them, he spoke in low tones in flawless Italian to the contessa.

"Who are you really, madame? You are English, you say by birth. Who was your sire?"

She looked at him with bleak eyes, and then she murmured so low that only he could hear. "I was the youngest daughter of the Duke of Arley, Mr. Brummell. Please, I beg of you to keep my secret."

Brummell could not have been more surprised than he now was by her revelation. "You are the duchess's mother:"

"I am. I never expected to see England again, but that the French ravaged my villa outside of Roma. My husband died two years ago, and we had no children of our own. I will go back one day when the French have gone, of course, but for now I had nowhere else to come but England. I am financially safe for Giancarlo placed his funds with a family of bankers named Kira. who have branches all over Europe. I thought it was unlikely that I should meet anyone who once knew me. Even the prince does not remember me, and we met when he was a young boy. He attempted to put his hand down my dress even then. I slapped him. I will not slap him if he again attempts it." She gave him a rueful shrug. "I need friends, you understand."

He nodded. "Seeing her now, do you regret your actions, madame?" Brummell asked the contessa.

"No," she shrugged. "I fear I do not. I did not love my first husband. I did love my second. I wanted no one, nothing to come between us. I was fortunate he felt the same way. It is odd, however, to see my daughter grown. To know I am to be a grandmother. To realize my sister has taken my place. Still, I have lived my life the way I wanted to live it. Don't most people if they can? Yet, it saddens me that I have lost my only son. But how gallant he was, wasn't he? And as for my only surviving child, she is a lovely young woman, with beautiful manners, and an obvious intelligence. She has found love the first time, and I wish that she may always have it."

"You will not tell her who you are?" Brummell said.

"Of course not," the contessa explained. "While I did not want her, I nonetheless bore her, making her father happy, who for all my own feelings, is a good man. Even if she knew my identity, sir, all it could do would be to upset her. I am nothing to her, nor do I wish to be at this late date. Nonetheless, I am pleased to see what a fine young woman she has turned out to be."

"You are a realist, madame," Brummell said in English.

"Yes," she responded in the same language. "I have always known when to cut my losses. Now, if I can but teach that to your prince," she finished with a smile.

Brummell laughed.

They had reached the end of The Grand Walk, and were at its entrance. Prinny handed Allegra and Honor into her carriage. He bowed.

"I think I shall go to Casa di Fortuna with Brummell and the contessa, m'dear. You do not mind. You will give my regards to both your husband and your father."

"I will, Your Highness," Allegra said graciously. Then she pulled up the window of her carriage door, and the vehicle pulled away.

Chapter 18

Alighting from her traveling coach, Allegra ran through the front door of her father's house, Morgan Court. "Papa! Papa!" she called excitedly.

The foyer was deserted. How odd, she thought. Then a young housemaid carrying two steaming kettles of water hurried by, billowed by a footman carrying an armful of white clothes.

"Stop,"Allegra called to them, and, startled, they did. "Where is my father?" she demanded.

"Yer father?" The footman looked confused, but the housemaid said, "Dolt, 'tis his lordship's daughter."

Then the young woman turned to Allegra. "Lord Morgan is upstairs with his wife, Your Grace. Her ladyship is having her baby."

Allegra pushed past them both, and raced upstairs, going directly to the apartment she knew belonged to her aunt mama. Entering the salon she moved quickly into the bedchamber where Olympia was ensconced in her bed, looking pale, her forehead beaded with dots of moisture.

Seeing Allegra her face lit up with relief and surprise. "Darling girl, please take your father out of here so 1 may get on with the business of bearing our child. He will not leave me."

"I came to apologize, Aunt Mama," Allegra began.

"It is all right, Allegra. We will speak later after I have delivered your sibling," Olympia said. "Now please calm your papa."

"I will not leave you," Septimius Morgan said. He was too pale, and looked as if he had not slept in several nights. He wore no coat, and his shirt was half-unbuttoned, having no neckcloth. He ran an impatient hand through his thinning hair. "I cannot leave you." He turned to his daughter. "Allegra, please explain to your stepmother that I will not go. That I love her, and must be by her side."

"But Papa, she doesn't want you here," Allegra said quietly. "Besides, how can you help her? You are more a distraction, I think."

"Very sensible," another male voice spoke. A gentleman of middle years came forward. He, too, was in his shirtsleeves. "Doctor Horace Pritchard, Your Grace. I believe your father could do with a good whiskey, and the equally comforting company of his daughter."

"Come, Papa." Allegra took her father's arm.

He pulled away, saying pleadingly, "But she will need me."

"Septimius! 1 have borne four children before this one, and all without the help of a husband," Olympia Morgan said humorously. "I love you, but in the name of God go away so 1 may have this child in peace. We will send down to you when we need you."

"Come along, Papa," Allegra gently cajoled him. "I have a great deal of news for you. 1 have just come from London."

"Allegra," the laboring woman called out. "Thank you, my dear. I do love you, even as I love your papa."

Allegra turned, and flashed her stepmother a warm smile. Then she escorted her father downstairs to his library. "Will you have a whiskey, Papa, or would you prefer wine?" she asked him.

He waved a hand at her. "Whatever is nearest to hand, my child," he told her. "Damnit, I want to be with Olympia."

"Papa, she is having a baby, and she is uncomfortable having you there in the room with her. You must accept her decision in the matter, and make it easier for her." She poured him a smoky dollop of whiskey into a Waterford glass, and handed it to him. "Here, Papa. This will, I am certain, calm your nerves."

Lord Morgan swallowed down half the whiskey in the glass. It roared into his stomach like molten lead, but then it spread its

warmth through his limbs, and he decided that he felt better. He looked at his daughter who sat across from him in a matching wing chair sipping a tiny glass of sherry. "London? What were you doing in London, Allegra?"

"Running away," she told him frankly. "When I learned several weeks ago that Aunt Mama was having a child. I was quite astounded, and not just a little distressed. You had married me to Quinton Hunter on the basis that I was the richest girl in England. Now I was not to be, and worse, I could not seem to conceive a child. Sirena had had her little boy. Then I received word that Eunice and Caroline were expecting babies. I felt suddenly worthless. My fortune was apparently gone, and 1 could not even give my husband a child. I felt Quinton had been cheated by us all, Papa, and so I ran away to London."

"Does Quinton feel he has been cheated, Allegra?" Lord Morgan asked.

"He says he does not. He says if you never gave us another penny we would still live more than comfortably for the rest of our days. We have hardly touched what we have received to date. Papa. But it just didn't seem reasonable to me that he wouldn't feel cozened. He had bartered his blue blood for a fortune that was no longer there. I am afraid I was very foolish, Papa."

"What has made you change your mind, my dear?" Lord Morgan asked his daughter.

"Lady Bellingham. Dear Lady Bellingham. When I cried upon her shoulder she scolded me quite roundly for doubting Quinton, whom she has known his entire life. She said any fool could see that he loved me, Papa. And then she said that breeding women were given to vagaries and fancies. I was utterly shocked, but then…" Here Allegra stopped and blushed. "Well, she sent her doctor around the following day, and Papa! She was right. I am having a baby! It was then I realized what a fool I had been, and decided that I would stop on my way home to tell you and Aunt Mama the happy news, and to beg your forgiveness for my terrible words. Quinton is right, Papa. We do not need any more of your monies. Hunter's Lair is restored. The Kira Bank holds our funds safely. I have my investments. My husband loves me, and I love him. That, Papa, is the greatest gift we could receive." Then she began to weep happily as her father smiled, amused, having just a few months prior gone through the same sort of histrionics with his wife.

"You had best remain the night," Lord Morgan said. "I will send a footman over to Hunter's Lair to tell your husband that you are safe with us, Allegra."

"Yes, Papa." She sniveled happily.

Four days later the Duke of Sedgwick arrived at his father-in-law's home. He had been astounded when a footman had arrived at his home from Morgan Court. "Come along, Hawkins," he told his valet. "It would appear that our wives are back from London sooner than later as I predicted."

His wife ran to greet him as if they had not parted so oddly. "Quinton! Ohh, Quinton, I have the most wonderful news," she cried. Reaching him she flung her arms about him and kissed him soundly.

He had meant to be stern. A man could not allow his wife to behave as Allegra had behaved, but at the touch of her lips he melted. He kissed her back. "I am a fool," he said, looking down into her eyes. "You have acted badly, and I should exercise my husbandly rights and punish you, Allegra."

"Ohh, yes, my darling, you should," she agreed.

"Did you even get as far as London?" he demanded, suspicious of her charming and adorable mood.

"Oh, I did. I went to a gambling house with Prinny and Mr. Brummell, and then the next night I went to Vauxhall with them. It was lovely, Quinton. I couldn't do those things as a debutante, and we didn't do them when we were all in London last winter. It was very exciting, my darling, but that is not the best thing of all."

"How much did you lose, Allegra?" he demanded, his gray eves suddenly icy.

She laughed. "Oh, Quinton, I am not such a turnip-head as that. I took a thousand pounds with me, and decided that when I had lost it I should come home. After all, I have no desire or passion for gambling. But the oddest thing happened. I could not lose. Whether it was at Hazard, or Whist, or E.O., I could not lose. I won over fourteen thousand pounds in a very short time. I think the proprietor of Casa di Fortuna was happy to see me leave,” she finished, giggling.

"And what did you do with the monies you won, Allegra?" he asked, but his tone and his manner had softened.

"I gave it to Charles Trent to invest. When our eldest son is of age he shall have half of it for himself, and the other half we shall use for our eldest daughter's season and marriage portion, she told him with a smile. "I think the first son and the first daughter are always the most special. Oh," she said suddenly. "I have a new brother. He was born two days ago. They are calling him William Septimius James, and he is absolutely gorgeous! He looks just like Papa. My brother, James Lucian, never did you know. He favored our mother."

She was like a fountain, the words pouring forth from between her pretty lips. He felt his anger and suspicion dissolving.

"My marriage portion, of course, will be considerably constrained," she chattered on at him. "After all, Willy is the heir now, and I am just his elder sister. We shall not have five hundred thou-sand pounds a year anymore, Quinton. But did you not tell me it didn't matter?"

She was testing him, he knew. "It does not matter," he told her firmly. "The only thing I want of Lord Morgan is his daughter," he said.

"You are very sweet, my darling," she told him, "but not very practical. You shall receive one hundred thousand pounds each year, and I shall inherit a quarter of Papa's estate when he dies, which, God willing, will not he for many years. You will, however, have to give me my pin money out of that, Quinton, for I shall receive no other stipend. I do not need it as I have my own monies, and 1 have you for my husband." She smiled up at him proudly. "Have I made us a good bargain, husband?"

He nodded, slowly, surprised at how efficiently she had managed everything once again. Then he shook his head. Why was he surprised? From the moment he had agreed to marry her, Allegra had managed everything, and she was far more adept at it than he ever was. She would probably manage him for the rest of their days, although he would never admit it to his friends. He took her hand in his, and together they walked into the house. "Having won all those monies, are you still of a mind not to gamble?" he asked her.

"It was beginner's luck, or so the Italian contessa I met that night said. No, I do not believe I shall ever gamble again, sir," Allegra told him sincerely.

"And you liked Vauxhall?" he queried.

"It was interesting, especially the Cascade, but there are far more beauties of a natural sort in the countryside. I suppose it is fine for city folk, Quinton. I did enjoy the concert in The Grove, but the supper. It was shockingly expensive! Why Mr. Brummell said that the carver at Vauxhall has been known to slice a whole ham so thin you could paper the entire gardens with it! And the cheese was dry, I fear, and the Arrack punch they served was quite nasty. I do not need to go back again," Allegra told her husband.

"I am relieved to hear it as we shall have to scrimp to get by on one hundred thousand pounds a year," he teased her, and then he lifted her up, and kissed her happily. "I thought you might not come back to me, Allegra," he told her.

"You thought no such thing, flatterer," she laughed, but his bald-faced lie had sent a thrill through her right down to her toes.

He set her down on her feet again. "I love you, Duchess."

"I am glad," she responded, "for it is important that children come from love, Quinton."

"Then you are ready to resume our efforts?" he said softly, kissing her lips once more.

"It is not necessary, sir," she told him, smiling happily into his eyes. "Lady Bellingham, our dear guardian angel, saw at once that my moods and crotchets were because I was ripening with your… our child, Quinton. Her own doctor has confirmed it. By year's end we shall have a son or a daughter, and Hunter's Lair will again ring with the laughter of children. I might even forgive Melinda and let her bring George's boy to play."

He felt as if his heart had suddenly swollen up, and when it burst his happiness was like a shower of stars. "Ohh, Allegra! You have made me the happiest of men." He lifted her up carelully, and then kissed her lips tenderly.

As he lowered her to the floor again she slipped her arms about him, and smiled into his eyes. "I love you, and after we have paid our respect to Papa and Aunt Mama, and you have admired Willy, I want to start our journey home, Quinton. And, my darling duke, I promise never to run away from you, or from our life together, again."

Both Lord and Lady Morgan were delighted to see Allegra and Quinton had reunited without difficulty. William Septimius James, a healthy, plump, pink infant with mild blue eyes, observed his elder half sister and his brother-in-law from the comfort of his mother's arms. As Allegra had told her husband, he was a miniature of his father, even to the shape of his head, which was covered in a dark down.

"I cannot wait until Sirena sees him," Allegra chuckled. "Now we are truly sisters."

"He'll make a fine playmate for his nephew," the duke observed with a broad smile. "What fun it will be in a few years' time to see all of our children playing together at family gatherings."

"If Gussie and his silly wife will allow my grandson to join us all, but Charlotte has wrapped the lad in cotton wool from the moment of his birth. Heaven knows what will become of him unless my son takes a stand. They need more children to take Charlotte's mind from the lad," Lady Morgan said firmly.

"I am going to take Allegra home now," the duke told his inlaws. "I think it is time she returned, and Hawkins is eager to have Honor home as well, you will understand. They'll be married on Sunday."

"Indeed, sir," Lord Morgan agreed.

Kisses and handshakes were exchanged all around. Then the Duke and Duchess of Sedgwick departed for their home. They made the trip a leisurely one, traveling through the bright May countryside. The orchards, just hinting at bloom when Allegra had left, had now burst into a pink, peach, and white glory. Cattle and calves grazed contentedly in the meadows. Sheep and lambs browsed upon the hillsides. Everywhere there were signs of burgeoning life, new life. This time the sight did not hurt Allegra's heart, for beneath it the heir to Sedgwick slept as he or she waited for the proper time to be born.

Hunter's Lair looked to her, as it had from the beginning, like home. Crofts greeted her smiling, as did the other servants. They quickly learned the duchess's happy news and celebrated it. Summer came, and the fields were green with the growing grain. Sirena and Ocky brought little Georgie to Hunter's Lair so he might be christened in the duke's own church as his godmother was not of a mind to travel now in her delicate condition.

Sirena had already traveled to Morgan Court, leaving Georgie behind with a wet nurse. "What do you think of our brother?" she asked Allegra. "He is quite your papa's image, isn't he? There seems to be nothing of mama in him at all, except perhaps his eyes, but only the color. The look is pure Morgan," she laughed. "Quite like you, Allegra."

Allegra laughed too. "I have not seen him in two months," she said, "but he did indeed look like Papa."

"They are so happy," Sirena noted. "They were before, but they are even more so now. I think it is having something they created and share together. I know Oeky and I feel that way about Georgie."

"I felt it move today," Allegra said to her cousin. “It was like a butterfly fluttering in my belly."

Sirena smiled. "Soon he will be like a horse, kicking and demanding to be let out of his confinement. At least that was how Georgie was with me. I want another."

The autumn came, and Allegra begun to grow rounder and rounder as the season deepened. Indeed she was larger than Honor, or even Lady Morgan had been, yet she seemed quite healthy. On the twenty-eighth of November, several weeks before she had believed the baby would be born, the Duchess of Sedgwick went into labor. The duke sent for Doctor Thatcher to come immediately.

Looking at herself in the full-length mirror, Allegra said, "I look like one of your mares about to foal. I will admit to being glad to be rid of this enormous burden. These last weeks have been awful. Why do not women speak on this instead of nattering on about all the delights of motherhood? So far I find no delight in at all." She winced as a wave of pain swept over her, almost doubling her over, an accomplishment in itself given the size of her belly.

"You don't make me feel like giving up my burden none too soon," Honor said, gazing down at her own girth.

The birthing room was well prepared with plenty of clean linens. The fireplace steamed with kettles of hot water ready for use when called for by the doctor. The ducal cradle adorned in satin and lace was ready for its occupant along with the proper amount of swaddling clothes for the baby. There was a basin set aside for cleaning the infant of blood. All waited upon the Duchess of Sedgwick to give up her baby.

"Ohhhh!" Allegra moaned, as another wave of pain washed over her body. "Damnit! Why does it hurt so, Doctor Thatcher?"

"It is a woman's lot, Your Grace," he answered.

"That, "Allegra replied, "is a most stupid answer."

The doctor looked startled at such a bold exclamation. He was used to birthing women either weeping piteously, or cursing out their husbands, or bearing their lot with dignity and stoicism.

"I believe, doctor, that my wife desires a more practical answer to her question," the duke said, close to laughter.

"Of course I do," Allegra said. "What causes the pain I am enduring now? Is the baby all right?"

"The pain, Your Grace, is caused by the spasms your body is making to help you expel your infant," Doctor Thatcher explained. "If they become too unbearable I can give you some laudanum."

"Would that not drug the child as well?" Allegra said.

"Well, yes, but…" He got no further.

"I will bear the pains," Allegra said. "Ohh hell, and damnation!"

Quinton Hunter burst out laughing, unable to help himself.

"Get out!" Allegra shouted at him. "You are responsible for my state, and I will not have you howling like a hyena at my distress. I will have them call you back when the child is born. Get out!"

"Duchess, I beg your pardon, but let me remain," he said.

"No," she said implacably. "You are banished, sir, and take poor Honor with you. She doesn't need to see this in her state."

Honor did not argue with her mistress. She hurried along after her master, saying as she went, "I'll wait in the salon, my lady."

"There, there, my lady," the housekeeper, Mrs. Crofts, said soothingly. "What do men understand? It'll all be over soon."

"Not soon enough," Allegra grumbled as her labors began in earnest.

After several hours the doctor saw the infant's head crowning, and so informed the duchess that her labors would shortly be at an end. The child's head and shoulders were born, and then as its little torso began to slip from its mother's body Doctor Thatcher gave a muffled cry of amazement.

"Zounds!"

"Well, bless my soul," Mrs. Crofts gasped, surprised, for as the baby was being born they could plainly see a tiny hand firmly grasping its right ankle.

"Get out of my way, woman," the doctor roared. "Take this infant while I attend to the other one."

"Other one?" Allegra shrieked. "What do you mean the other one?"

Mrs. Crofts took up the first child, a little girl, and hurried over to the table to clean her off. The baby was howling angrily as it was wiped free of the birthing blood with warmed oil, then carefully wrapped in the swaddling clothes. "I'll need more cloths," the housekeeper said to the goggle-eyed maid standing at her side. Then she thrust the baby at the girl. "Here, I'll get them. Put her ladyship in the cradle at once, you dolt."

"Come on, woman, I have the other one almost born!" the doctor yelled at the housekeeper.

Mrs. Crofts fairly Hew across the room with more swaddling clothes, hastily made up. She set them on the table, and said to the maidservant, "More fresh water, Mary, and do not delay." Then her face lit up with delight. "Ahh," she said, "here is his little lordship."

"There are two?" Allegra said. "I have two babies?"

"A daughter first, Your Grace," Doctor Thatcher said, "and now a son. A fine lusty son. Just listen to those cries."

Allegra, unable to help herself, burst into tears. "Let me see my babies," she begged them. "Let me see my children."

"Give me just a few minutes to complete your birthing, madame," the doctor said in kindly tones. "Then you may have your babies. Just a few moments' more business we have."

Allegra hardly noticed expelling the afterbirths, or the doctor and the little maidservant cleaning her up from her labors. She only knew she could hear the cries of her children, and those cries were music to her ears. Finally they brought the two infants to her, and put them in her arms. A great wave of emotion swept over her at the sight of the tiny faces. Unbidden, tears of happiness continued to slip down her cheeks. Then the door to her bedchamber burst open, and the duke dashed in.

He looked to his wife. He saw the two infants, one nestled in each of her arms. His mouth fell open.

"Two?" His voice was filled with emotion. "We have two?" he said.

"Two," she replied, smiling.

"Boys?" he ventured.

"Charles," she said, indicating the infant on her right, "and Vanessa," she told him, her gaze marking their daughter on her left. "I would like to name them after your parents, my lord, with your permission, of course." Then Allegra smiled brightly at him. "Is it not wonderful, my darling Quinton. We have at one stroke outdone everyone. Ocky and Sirena. Marcus and Eunice. Dree and Caroline, and Papa and Aunt Mama."

"And why shouldn't we?" he demanded with a grin. "Are you not the daughter of the richest man in England?"

"And you," she replied, "the duke with the bluest blood?"

Then he bent and kissed her, causing her to involuntarily squeeze her twins just a touch too tightly. Charles and Vanessa Hunter howled with their outrage, which only caused their parents to burst into a fit of happy laughter.

"Do you still want more?" he demanded of her.

She nodded. "I do, my dearest duke."

"Then so it shall be, Duchess, for I cannot deny the daughter of the richest man in England anything!"