The Duchess Read online

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

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

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

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

  “Yes, my lady,” Marker replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I shall miss the hunting season,” Pandora said irritably.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Papa!”

  “Sit down, Allegra,” her father said.

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

  “Yes,” Lord Morgan replied. Nothing more.

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

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

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

  “Why not?” Allegra’s violet eyes were stormy with her disapproval.

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

  “No!”

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

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

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

  “The family are notorious gamblers, Papa,” Allegra said.

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

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

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

  “We shall elope to Gretna Green,” Allegra insisted.

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

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

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

  Allegra’s look was distinctly interested. “How, Papa?” she asked her father.

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

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

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

  “When will we be married?” Allegra asked her father.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Is it important?” Honor asked her mistress.

  “Yes,” Allegra said, “I believe it is.”

  “Ohh, miss, tell me, do!” Honor begged.

  “Not yet,” Allegra said, “but soon, Honor.”

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

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

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

  “I will want a bath,” Allegra replied.

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

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

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

  “I’ll make you proud soon enough,” Allegra promised her maid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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