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Authors: Bertrice Small

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“But no one will know until my ball that we are to be wed,” Allegra sighed. “I don't want to tell anyone so Sirena may have her day in the sun with Ocky. We both know any mention of our betrothal would overshadow them greatly, and I don't think that's fair.”

“I agree,” the duke replied, thinking that this girl for all her pride and wealth had a kind heart. He felt strangely relieved by the knowledge. They would, he decided, get on very well. “When will you come to Hunter's Lair?” he asked.

“I must go home first, but I should be able to come in early July. As I realize you will hardly be ready to host guests, I shall come with only my maid, Honor. There will be a certain amount of gossip about it, I am sure, but as our engagement will have already been announced and our wedding date set, I will not mind, if you do not.”

“You are a sensible girl,” he complimented her. Then taking her hand in his he looked into the violet eyes. “As I have your father's permission, Allegra, now I ask yours. Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Quinton, I will,” she responded quietly, happy he could not know how quickly her heart was beating. “I will be honored to be your wife.”

O
n the night of the thirty-first of May every tree in Berkley Square was festooned with paper lanterns that glittered and lit up the area, making it a fairyland. Carriage after carriage slowly entered the square from the side streets, each waiting its turn to disembark its passengers before Lord Septimius Morgan's house. Once at their destination Lord Morgan's guests were greeted and helped from their vehicles by a seemingly endless stream of black and silver liveried footmen. A stately butler welcomed them at the door to the house as they entered. More footmen ushered them to the second floor where the ladies were invited to freshen themselves in a large windowed cloakroom with several screened necessaries, while the gentlemen in their separate facility did the same. There was much approval of this disposition for usually the sanitary arrangements were set in the corners of the ballroom behind their painted screens, and by evening's end the chamber stank.

Exiting the cloakrooms the guests were guided to the ballroom. They greeted their host and his daughter at its entrance, and were then announced to the company by a barrel-chested majordomo whose stentorian voice
echoed throughout the entire area. Moving down two steps they entered Lord Morgan's ballroom into a crowd of London's most fashionable denizens.

No one had refused the invitation to Miss Morgan's ball. Prinny was coming, and just a few days ago a fascinating rumor had begun making the rounds that Miss Morgan's betrothal would be announced tonight, although to whom, no one had the faintest idea. She was always seen in the company of her cousin, Lady Sirena Abbott, Viscount Pickford, and their friends. She certainly hadn't seemed to have favored any one gentleman. It was a mystery, if indeed the rumor was even true.

Lady Bellingham sat smugly in her most fashionable silver and midnight blue ballgown. She and her husband had been the only invited guests to the dinner that preceded the ball. Of course the Dowager Marchioness of Rowley, her daughter, Viscount Pickford, the Marquess of Rowley, and his silly wife were there, but they were family.
And then there had been the Duke of Sedgwick.
Her interest was immediately engaged for she, too, had heard the rumors swirling about Allegra Morgan.

“Septimius?”
she demanded questioningly. Her look went to Quinton Hunter, and then back again to her host.

“You will be the first to know, Clarice,” he said softly, a twinkle in his eye. “Not even the family has been told yet. This dinner is for that purpose. Are you pleased?”

“Indeed I am,” Lady Bellingham said. “Quinton's mother was my cousin, Vanessa Tarleton. She was the eldest daughter of the Marquess of Rufford. Had a dowry that would have embarrassed a farmer's gel, but of course Charles Hunter fell in love with her. She was a lovely creature. Died when Quinton was eleven, and his brother, George, six. She gave birth to a tiny girl, and
then gave up the ghost. The child died several hours later. It was buried in her arms. A great tragedy. Charles drank himself to death after he had gambled away what little he had left. Old Rufford saw his grandsons were educated, but it was a strain on his finances, and most of his own estate was entailed upon his eldest son and heir. My mother was Rufford's younger sister. Quinton is a very proud man, but he is honorable, Septimius.”

“So I have gathered by his conduct towards Allegra, Clarice. He has behaved with the utmost delicacy and kindness. Allegra would never admit to it, of course, but she is very concerned about doing the right thing once she is the Duchess of Sedgwick.”

“Nothing the matter with your gel, Septimius. She will do very well, and I can promise you she is going to be an outstanding duchess,” Lady Bellingham said with a reassuring smile. “What a coup, Septimius! All of London will be talking about it come tomorrow.” She chuckled.

Clarice Bellingham smiled a smugly satisfied smile as she looked out over the ballroom. Oh yes, they would all be mightily surprised by Miss Morgan's catch. There would be some, of course, who would sneer that it was her money, and indeed it was. Her money, and his title. But Allegra Morgan would be a duchess. Wife to the man with the bluest blood in all of England. Without much hope Quinton had come to London seeking a wife; and by God he had landed the prize of this or any other season. And his friends had not done so badly either. Young Pickford and sweet Sirena. The Earl of Aston who had found a wife in the current Marquess of Rufford's middle daughter, Eunice; and Lord Walworth, who to his surprise, had been snapped up by her own niece, Caroline Bellingham. Oh, yes, it had indeed been a most successful season!

The orchestra on its dais suddenly struck up a ruffle and flourish. Escorted by his host, Prinny entered the room, followed by Allegra. Lord Morgan nodded to the musicians, and the strains of the minuet began. The prince bowed to Allegra, who curtsied beautifully, and together they danced most gracefully. When they had finished the ballroom was filled with the thunder of clapping. Prince George, better known as Prinny, was a handsome man of thirty, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a pink complexion. He and Allegra had made a most attractive couple. Escorting her back to her father, he bowed to them both.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Allegra said, and she curtsied again.

“If Your Highness will allow me,” Lord Morgan said, “I have an announcement to make.”

“Is it
her
betrothal?” Prinny said excitedly.

Lord Morgan nodded with a smile. The prince was a bit childish and loved secrets. “To the Duke of Sedgwick,” he told Prinny softly, satisfying his overweening curiosity.

“I say!” the prince replied. “A fine catch for you, Miss Morgan, and an even better one for Sedgwick. You both have my congratulations. Sedgwick,” he spoke to the duke who had now joined them, “you really ought to gamble for you seem to have the damndest good fortune. Not only a beautiful gel, but a rich one as well!” He chuckled, well pleased, as if he had been responsible for the whole situation. “Well, Morgan, make your announcement so I can go and gamble,” Prinny said with another chuckle.

Lord Morgan nodded again to the musicians who played an elegant tah-rah. Stepping up upon the dais he said, “My lords, ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor,
and the pleasure to announce my daughter, Allegra's, betrothal to Quinton Hunter, the Duke of Sedgwick.”

A burst of excited applause broke out, but before the couple might be overwhelmed by congratulations, the musicians began to play a country reel. The guests were forced to begin dancing once again. Sirena, however, managed to evade the dancers, and take her cousin aside.

“Why didn't you tell me?” she demanded, outraged. “We have never before kept secrets from each other.”

“Because I wanted you and Ocky to enjoy all the attention generated from
your
betrothal. If I had told you that the duke and I were also betrothed, it would have hardly remained a secret, Sirena.”

“When did he ask you?” Sirena asked, excitedly.

“He and Papa came to an arrangement several weeks ago, and then he asked me,” Allegra answered her cousin.

“Do you love him?” Sirena's pretty face was anxious.

“I barely know him,” Allegra replied.

“Then how can you marry him?” Sirena almost wailed.

“Sirena, my dearest romantic little cousin, he is the Duke of Sedgwick.
How can I not marry him?”
Allegra replied.

“That is so cold!” Sirena cried, her brown eyes filling with tears.

“No, it is being practical,” Allegra told her quietly. “I must be married, dearest one. Whoever I wed marries me for my money. How can I ever believe otherwise? You and Ocky marry for love, but few in our class have that luxury, sweeting. I am quite satisfied with this arrangement, I assure you.”

“As am I,” the duke said, joining them. “Please do
not fret yourself, Lady Sirena. I intend taking good care of your cousin.”

“Come, sweetheart, I want to dance,” Viscount Pick-ford said as he also joined them. “People will talk if we do not, Sirena. Then all those husband-hunting gels will be after me again, and it will be all your fault, my darling,” he teased her, leading her away.

“She loves you very much,” the duke remarked.

“I love her,” Allegra replied. She slipped her hand through his arm. “Should we not also dance, my lord?”

“I dislike dancing,” he replied.

“So do I,” she admitted, “but it is my ball, and tongues will wag if we are not seen together tripping the light fantastic.”

He laughed. “What a fine sense of propriety you have, Allegra. You really are a very sensible young woman. More like your father than your mother, I think. You will not fall in love with someone else and leave me.”

“But you might fall in love one day and leave me,” she countered.

“I do not believe in love,” he said truthfully. “Love is the cause of more difficulties on this earth than even money, or the lack of it. Since by marrying you I become a rich man, and since I don't hold with the chimera of love, there is little likelihood that I will ever leave you, Allegra.”

“You may change your mind when I begin restoring Hunter's Lair, Quinton,” she teased him. “From what I have been told, I shall need to expend a small fortune on it.”

He laughed again. “I love the old place,” he admitted, “but I know it could use a bit of sprucing up. It is yours to do with as you will, my dear. Just leave the Great Hall for my hunting parties.”

“I agree,” she told him with a smile. “Now escort me
back to the dance floor, and let us make everyone here tonight envious of us.”

“Why, Miss Morgan,” he teased back, “what a naughty girl you are. I did not expect it from such a proper young woman, but it is not an unwelcome side of you, I am thinking.”

“We shall have the summer to know each other better,” she replied. “I hope we shall still like each other when the summer ends. It will make for a much better marriage if we like one another, Quinton.”

He thought about her last remark afterward. She was a practical girl, but he sensed in her a vulnerability that he would wager even she wasn't aware of in herself. For all her intelligence, and a season in London, she was still an innocent at heart. He found that he wanted to protect Allegra from any hurt. Then he smiled to himself. It would seem that no man could be free of a woman's charms. When earlier that evening he had given her an amethyst ring set round with diamonds as a token of their pledge, she had almost squealed, catching herself in midcry. It had both touched and amused him.

“It is beautiful. How could you afford such a ring?” she demanded.

“It is a family piece,” he told her. “One of the few that did not go to pay gambling debts. I chose it because its deep color reminded me of your eyes, Allegra.”

Her mouth fell open in surprise. Then catching herself she closed it, saying, “What a lovely thing to say, my lord.” She held out her hand, admiring the ring some more.

He took her hand, and kissed it. “I may not love you, Allegra, but it is not difficult to say lovely things to you, my dear.”

“I am sorry I didn't have this ring when I made my bow at court. All the other girls, especially the ones who
were so high-flown with me, would have been pea green with envy!”

“Your curtsey put the others to shame,” he told her. “It was every bit worthy of a Duchess of Sedgwick.”

“I am amazed that I did not topple over in that ridiculous gown,” she told him. “One had to go sideways through the doors with those huge hoop skirts. It was all I could do not to fall on my bottom when I bowed. And the neckline was cut so fashionably low that my bosom was all but exposed to King George. But he didn't seem to mind. As for the wig I had to wear, it weighed practically as much as a coach and four, Quinton. I thought my neck would crack with its weight.”

“I thought the doves flying amid the diamonds a rather nice touch,” he remarked, his silvery eyes twinkling.

Allegra laughed. “I vow, sir, if it were possible to use live birds some ambitious mama would do it. I prefer simple clothing.”

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