The Duchess (13 page)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good afternoon, Lady Bellingham,” Allegra said.
Aunt?

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

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

“Why not?”
demanded Lady Bellingham.

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

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

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

“You are not being married before the season ends? You are not being married in London?” Lady Belling-ham was shocked.

“There isn't enough time,” Allegra explained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” he said to her.

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

“Your papa is very wise,” the duke answered her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you dream of me?” he teased her.

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

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

“Come for luncheon,” she replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just tired, Papa,” she responded with a small yawn.

“Are you happy?” he said.

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

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

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

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

“What if you remarry, Papa? Would you dispossess your widow?”

“Allegra …,” he began, and then stopped.

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

“Do you?” he replied, his look suddenly amused.

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

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

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

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

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

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