The Duchess (24 page)

“Aunt Mama,” Allegra said quietly, “let me relieve you of what must surely be an embarrassing moment. I have spoken with my three friends to ascertain the nature of
my wifely
duties.
They have kindly been most forthcoming, and enlightened me. You need go no further, I assure you. I understand what is expected of me, and the notion is not at all unpleasant. Indeed, I am very curious to experience these
duties
myself,” Allegra concluded, her look mischievous.

Lady Morgan gave a gusty sigh of relief. “Bless you, Allegra, for being a sensible girl. I do not care how close a mother and her daughter are, it is a delicate and often awkward moment between them. No girl wants to consider her mother possesses such knowledge, and no mother wants to imagine her child under such circumstances.” She laughed, and Allegra laughed with her. “I hardly gave poor Sirena any instructions at all, and would have felt most guilty did I not know how much she and Octavian loved each other. She kept looking at me with those wonderful big blue eyes of hers, and frankly I was most discomfited. I kept seeing her as that adorable little girl with the lovely long curls who played with you at Morgan Court.”

Allegra walked over to the sideboard in her salon, and lifting the crystal stopper from a decanter poured two small glasses of sherry. Turning, she handed one of the glasses to her stepmother. “I salute you, madame. You are the best mother any girl could have had even if you are my aunt.” She raised her little goblet and drank.

“Ohh, my dear,” Lady Morgan said, “and I salute you. My foolish sister lost a wonderful child in you, but I gained another daughter to love and to cherish.” She raised her goblet and drank.

Their glasses emptied, the two hugged each other, and then Lady Morgan kissed Allegra on both cheeks. “Good night, my darling girl. Sleep well. I shall see you in the morning.” Then she turned, and hurried from the
room, but not before Allegra had seen the tears of happiness welling up in her blue eyes.

Thank heavens that was over and done with, Allegra thought to herself. Heaven only knows what Aunt Mama would have told her if she had not weaseled the information out of Sirena. And she had taken any blame from Sirena's shoulders by claiming that all three of her friends had spoken with her on the subject. “Honor,” she called as she began to loosen her gown. “She is gone.”

Honor hurried from the dressing room. “You could have asked me
anything,
miss,” she told her mistress.

“Anything?”
Allegra raised a dark eyebrow.

“Girls in my position grow up faster, miss,” the servant replied.

“Honor, you haven't!” Allegra wasn't certain she should be shocked by such a revelation.

“No, I most certainly haven't,” Honor quickly answered. “I wouldn't be fit to work in a decent household if I was that kind of loose baggage. I just said we grow up faster when we're servants. We see things. We hear things. We talk among one another, and are far easier among ourselves than the gentry are. We are not bound up by all your manners and rules of polite society, Miss Allegra.”

“Oh.”

Honor took her mistress's lovely silk gown, and laid it aside. “Now let's get you bathed for you'll not have time in the morning,” she said, and then she pinned Allegra's dark curls atop her head.

The bath, smelling of lilacs, was wonderful, and Allegra did not want to hurry, but she knew Honor would be awakening her early. She washed quickly. Her hair had been washed earlier in the day, and so she did not
have to bother going to bed with a wet head and risking a chill. She exited her tub into a warmed towel held by her servant. “I shall be a married lady this time tomorrow,” she said aloud.

“You're sure you are happy about it?” Honor asked boldly.

“Yes, I am content,” Allegra replied softly. “He is a kind man, and he seems reasonable.”

“Are you softening toward him then?” Honor queried. Although she was not a great deal older than her mistress, she had been with her since Allegra had left the nursery at age six. At twenty-four she felt eons older than her mistress. Their relationship allowed for such questions occasionally.

“I like him.” Allegra took out her pins, and sitting at her dressing table began to brush her hair free of its tangles.

“Ummm,” Honor observed, and said no more.

“And what does
that
mean?” Allegra demanded.

“You can sometimes be slow in coming to a decision, miss,” was the answer.

“What decision can I not make?” Allegra demanded.

“Whether you love him or not.”

“Love him?
Honor, do not be ridiculous! I have told you before I do not love him.”

“If you say so, miss,” the servant replied. “Now let's get you into bed so you can get some sleep.” She tucked the down comforter about her mistress. “Good night, Miss Allegra. It's the last night I'll say that. From tomorrow on it will be
Your Grace.”
Then with a quick smile, Honor left Allegra for the night, closing the dressing room door behind her as she went.

Allegra stared at the canopy above her.
Your Grace.
Good Lord! The time had come for her to become the Duchess of Sedgwick. It was autumn. Spring and summer
had long flown, and tomorrow she was to marry the duke. What an odd thing for Honor to have said. That she couldn't make up her mind if she loved Quinton Hunter, or not. Of course she didn't love him, and he most certainly didn't love her. And even if her feelings toward him were to change, she would certainly not embarrass him by gushing romantic twaddle.

This summer past they had become friends. They both loved Hunter's Lair. They both wanted a simple life with family and children. They were highly fortunate, they both knew, in having no financial worries. But that was all there was to it. Allegra's eyes felt heavy. There really was nothing more to their relationship. Why on earth had Honor said what she had said? Why does she persist so? Did she know something her mistress didn't? Allegra yawned, and her eyes closed. “He doesn't love me, and I don't love him,” she said softly. And then she fell asleep.

A
llegra's wedding day did not dawn brightly. The autumn rain fell in sheets outside the house, knocking against the windows. The hall, however, was warm and bright with the light of many candles and the twin fireplaces which blazed, crackling with sparks of golden light as the red flames danced in the downdraft from the wind outdoors. The vicar from St. Luke's, the village church, had come early, riding through the stormy weather to reach Hunter's Lair a full hour before the nine o'clock ceremony was scheduled. His wet clothing was taken from him to be dried while he changed into his cassock and white and gold chasuble. The clergyman was pleased to have been asked to marry the duke and his bride. His stipend for the service would be generous, he had not a doubt, and the duke could have sent for the local bishop instead. The vicar graciously accepted the goblet of wine offered him, and looked about.

Heavy carved gold candlesticks and a jeweled gold crucifix had been placed atop a white linen runner on the highboard to serve as an altar. There were vases of flowers upon stands set around the temporary altar. The air was sweet with the scent of late pink roses, pink and white lilies, and lavender.

At the appointed hour the small group of guests were seated upon narrow backless oak benches that were a part of the hall's original furnishings. The rest of the hall was filled with the servants, and as many of the duke's tenants as could crowd in. They arrived silently, wiping their muddy boots under Mr. Croft's stern eye before they were allowed into their master's house.

Sirena looked lovely in a simple pale blue silk gown with its puffed sleeves and high waist. Her gown was tied with a narrow pink ribbon sash. She carried a small nosegay of pink roses and lavender. There were pink roses in her short curly coiffure, which was now cut in the latest style. Sirena could not keep herself from smiling. She had so wanted to share this day with her beloved cousin, and Allegra, generous of heart, had made it so.

The bride was pale, and to her surprise, nervous. Her voice was soft. It almost trembled as she spoke her vows. She was very embarrassed, and wondered if anyone, particularly the duke, had noticed. It was childish of her to feel any anxiety. While her blood might be nowhere as blue as the duke's, she was fully confident that she would make Quinton Hunter a perfect duchess. This was what she had wanted, and she knew that she looked absolutely beautiful this morning.

Madame Paul had outdone herself. The wedding gown was an exquisite creation of pure white silk into which had been woven tiny silver stars. High waisted, it had a delicate bouffant overskirt of the sheerest silver net. The bodice had a rounded neckline. The little puffed sleeves were decorated with diminutive silver bows. The duke had given his bride a necklace of large pearls from which dangled a blue-white diamond heart and a pair of diamond and pearl earbobs, which Allegra now wore.

Her thick, long, dark hair was fashioned into a smooth, elegant chignon, atop which had been placed a wreath of white roses holding a long filmy veil of silver netting. Allegra stared hard at the heavy band of Irish red-gold and diamonds that the duke had placed upon her finger. The reality of her situation suddenly slammed into her, even as the vicar spoke the final words of the ceremony.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Those whom God has joined together, let no man rend asunder.” The cleric paused, then said, “You may kiss the bride, Your Grace.”

The duke's hands cupped Allegra's face as her startled gaze met his. He kissed her, and for a brief moment Allegra soared. But then he released her, smiling into the confusion in her eyes, saying, “Shall we see to our guests, Your Grace?”

They turned to receive the good wishes of their family, their friends, and all the others in the hall. The musicians in the Minstrel's Gallery began to play a sprightly tune. The servants hurried forth with the wedding breakfast and the wine as the hall emptied of all but the chosen few. The new Duchess of Sedgwick invited them to take their seats, indicating where each should sit. She and the duke sat in the king and queen's chairs in the center of the highboard facing out into the hall.

Allegra stole a look at her new husband. She had always thought him handsome, but today he seemed even more so in his white brocaded satin suit embroidered with gold. His brother, who had been Quinton's witness, had chosen to wear a sky blue satin suit that matched Sirena's gown. Lord George Hunter now arose from the table to make a toast.

“To my brother, Quinton, who had the good sense to marry the most beautiful, and certainly the most generous
girl in all of England. May he and Allegra have many happy years together. God bless!”

“Here! Here!” the other guests agreed, raising their crystal goblets of wine and drinking.

Now the duke arose, and raising his glass, looked directly at his new wife, who blushed. “To Allegra, who has brought happiness to my family and given a new life to Hunter's Lair. I thank her for marrying me.” Quinton Hunter drank a sip of wine. Then placing his goblet upon the table he took Allegra's hand up and kissed it.

More toasts were offered during the long meal while poached eggs in a cream and Marsala sauce were presented, along with a small pink country ham that was thinly sliced, and rashers of bacon. There were fresh, warm, and dainty rolls; breads, sweet butter, and plum conserves. There were bowls of oatmeal mixed with heavy cream, cooked apples, and cinnamon sugar. There was beefsteak, tiny lamb chops upon a silver platter, creamed cod, sliced salmon that had been poached in white wine and dill and served upon a bed of watercress and sliced lemons. There was a dish of baked apples with clotted cream, and another dish of stewed pears with nutmeg and sherry. Finally there was a wedding cake with its tiny white spun sugar decorations covering the golden fruited confection. It was early afternoon by the time the entire meal had been concluded.

Outside the rain continued to fall. The servants and the estate workers had their own feast moved from the outdoors to the barns. The wedding party and their guests took the opportunity to visit them during a brief respite in the storm. There the bride and groom were toasted again in honest English ale and cider. They danced several country dances with their humbler guests before returning to the house, where Allegra saw the carriages of her guests already drawn up before the
front door of Hunter's Lair. She realized that her friends and family would be leaving shortly as they all wanted to reach their various homes before sunset. Even in the country the roads could be dangerous after dark.

“It was a most beautiful wedding,” Sirena said. “Do try to be happy, Allegra.”

“I am,” the bride insisted.

“You know what I mean,” Sirena replied meaningfully.

“We shall leave you alone for a week,” the young Countess of Aston said, “but after that you will come and visit us.” She kissed Allegra on both cheeks. “Good-bye, darling!” Then Eunice and her husband were gone out the door.

“You
must
come to London this winter,” Lady Bellingham insisted, giving the bride a warm hug. “It has been a most delightful time, dear girl.” There were more kisses. Then Lady Bellingham and her quiet husband departed.