The Duchess

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The Duchess Page 37

by Bertrice Small


  “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 Eighteen

  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, followed 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 I 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! I 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 I 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. I 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 roo
m 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 I 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 eyes 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 thousand 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 be 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 I 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 carefully, 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 in-laws. “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.”

 

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