Bertrice Small - Deceived

"I do not wish to rush your grace, but the sooner I can weigh anchor today, the sooner we will reach England."

"Of course," the duke agreed, standing and drawing Cally up with him. "You will want to change, my dear. Sally, take your mistress upstairs, and do not dawdle."

"Yes, yer grace," Sally said smartly. She and Martha had been invited to the table, being old and treasured retainers.

In a surprisingly short time the new Duchess of Farminster returned, dressed fashionably in a gaily flowered Pompadour taffeta travel dress, a broad-brimmed straw hat with blue ribbons, and lace mitts upon her pretty hands. "I am ready," she said in a breathless voice.

Oralia began to cry. Both her daughter and stepdaughter rushed to comfort her. "I am being foolish, I know," she sniffed.

"Now, Mama, you must reconsider your decision and come to England with Aurora and George in late autumn," Cally said.

Oralia shook her head. "I do not like to travel," she replied. "When you have had a baby or two, or three, bring them home one winter to St. Timothy for their grandmama to see before she dies."

"Now, Mama," Aurora said, struggling not to laugh. "You are not going to die for many years to come. You are far too young. Give Cally your blessing, and a kiss so they may be under way."

Oralia sighed, but did as her stepdaughter suggested, kissing first Calandra, and then Valerian Hawkesworth. "Take care of my darling child," she instructed the duke.

"I will, ma'am," he promised her.

Cally then hugged her stepsister, her brother, and finally Martha. "I shall look forward to seeing you in a few months."

George grinned. "Together," he said.

"Forever!" Cally responded.

"As one!" Aurora finished their pledge.

Valerian Hawkesworth looked puzzled, and the trio laughed.

"Your wife will explain to you," Oralia said. "Now, go, before I cannot let you go!" She put her handkerchief to her mouth.

The duke helped his bride into the open carriage, and with a wave they were off down to the harbor, Captain Conway, Browne, and Sally following in their own conveyance.

"I do not know if I can bear it," Oralia said softly.

"Be of good cheer, ma'am," the Reverend Mr. Edwardes said. "It is God's will that a daughter leave her mother's house for a husband. Your daughter has married incredibly well. Be thankful!"

"George," Aurora said quickly, "would you be so good as to take our kindly minister down to the boat and have Franklin sail him back over to Barbados. The winds are brisk today, and I believe he can be home in time for lunch. It was so good of you to come to St. Timothy to marry Cally and Valerian, but we cannot keep you further from your parish duties, Reverend Edwardes." She smiled sweetly.

"Happy to come, Miss Aurora," he replied. "I hope I shall next see you wed to some fine young man. We have several suitable gentlemen in my parish, among whom might be one who would suit you."

"Perhaps I shall come over to Barbados for a visit after my brother and I return from England next year, sir," she replied.

"Your dear mama will be all right, won't she?" the minister inquired solicitously. "Losing a daughter is hard, I know. My good wife and I have married off four in as many years."

"Mama will be fine," Aurora assured him.

"Come along, sir," George said brightly, understanding that Aurora wanted the man gone before Oralia might say something revealing. He took the rector by the arm. "I shall see to his fee," he murmured to his stepsister, and then he hustled the Reverend Mr. Edwardes out the door before another moment could pass by.

"Is it always this cold in England?" Aurora asked Captain Conway as the Royal George prepared to dock at Dover. She shivered, drawing her hooded cape about her. The deep green wool was lined in rabbit, the hood trimmed with lynx. There were several flannel petticoats beneath her gown, and she was wearing knitted woolen stockings, but she was still chilled to the bone. She shivered.

"It's January, Miss Aurora," the captain said, "and in England January is always a cold month. Then, too, it's particularly icy out here on the water. It will be better once you're ashore, and your blood will thicken soon enough so that you won't feel the cold."

"I hope so!" Aurora responded. England. It was the most colorless place she had ever seen. The sea was dark, as were the buildings on the shore. The sky was gray, and there was snow everywhere. She had heard of snow, but of course until then she had never seen it.

George joined her at the rail as the captain excused himself. "Are you as cold as I am?" he asked her.

Aurora nodded. "There is no color," she remarked. "It's quite grim. I cannot imagine Cally likes it much, although her letter, when she wrote, did not offer any complaint."

"Mama lives for her letters," George replied. "We must see that Cally writes her more often. She cannot be so overwhelmed with her duties as a duchess that she has no time to write Mama."

"Do Wickham and Martha have everything packed and ready for us to disembark? Do you think the duke will meet us?"

"He'll probably send a coach to take us up to London," George said. "And, yes, the trunks are ready."

They returned to the salon to warm themselves. Very shortly the Royal George docked, its heavy lines securing it to the shore. The gangway was lowered, and the passengers began to depart the ship. Actually there had been few passengers on this crossing: a children's tutor returning to England on the death of his mother, two young women from Barbados who were being sent to school, and their chaperon, a rather quiet older woman coming to visit her daughter, who was married to a clergyman in Oxfordshire. They had all been mightily impressed by the two siblings from St. Timothy, who, the captain had informed them, were coming to England to visit their sister, the Duchess of Farminster.

As George and Aurora stepped to the head of the gangway, they saw Cally waving madly to them and calling their names. She stood next to a magnificent traveling coach, and was accompanied by a gentleman, not her husband. They hurried off the ship, Wickham and Martha following.

Cally hurled herself enthusiastically at her brother and stepsister. "Darlings! I thought you would never get here!" She hugged them both, kissing them on their cheeks. Her scent was overwhelming.

"Where is Valerian?" George questioned his sister as the baggage was being loaded on a smaller coach in which the servants would travel. "I thought perhaps he would come with you."

"Valerian? I really don't know where he is," Cally said in unconcerned tones. "Possibly he is down in the country. Dear brother, we were misled. He may bear the title of duke, but the man is a farmer! Imagine! A farmer! He would rather spend his time with his horses and cattle and sheep than in the society of elegant people."

"No matter, Cally," Aurora said sharply. "You still bear the title of duchess, and do not, as far as I can see, want for anything."

"Oh, Aurora, it is good that you have not changed. Did I not tell you, Trahern? Her wit is wonderfully sharp." She had turned to the man accompanying her. He was very tall, and slender, and fair. "Trahern, this is my sister, Aurora. Aurora darling, this is Charles, Lord Trahern. I brought him especially for you."

"How embarrassing for both me and for Lord Trahern," Aurora answered her stepsister, annoyed. "I think you know, Cally, how very much I dislike anyone choosing a gentleman for me." Her meaning was very pointed, and for the briefest moment Calandra looked uncomfortable.

Then she giggled. "Oh, you are so naughty!" she simpered. Lord Trahern's thin lips had twitched with amusement when Aurora had delivered her put-down of her stepsister. Now he caught Aurora's gloved hand, and raising it to his lips, kissed it. "Miss Spencer-Kimberly, I am delighted to meet you, even if you are not delighted to meet me." Calandra had been babbling for weeks about this sibling, and what a good match she would be. God knows he needed a wife with an income, but this girl was far too intelligent to be fooled, unlike dear little Calandra, whose sole interests were bound up with her own pleasures and her own desires. He returned Aurora's hand.

"Cally," George said, "you may be used to this weather, but we are not. Let us get into your coach. Where are you taking us?"

"London!" Cally said brightly. "It's a long drive, but we will go straight through. Trahern was kind enough to arrange for extra horses for the coach along the way. Come along now!"

It was a good fifty-mile drive. They stopped three times to exchange horses on both the coaches. Twice they stopped to eat, use the necessary, and get warm by an inn fire. They had docked just after dawn. When they arrived in London it was already dark, and Aurora was still cold and exhausted. Cally had chattered almost the entire way. She babbled about society, and fashion, and the latest gossip.

"The king is to be married this year," she said.

"The king to wed? He's too old," George said.

"Ohhh! You don't know, do you? Well," she answered her own question, "how could you. The old king died in late October. We have a nice new king, and he's going to marry some German princess, Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. He's very handsome, the king." She giggled. "Dull, but handsome. Do you know how the old king died?" She lowered her voice. "He was on his commode!" And she giggled wildly again. "His commode! Of course they hushed it up so the common people would not hear and make a mockery of it, but naturally they did. All of Europe knows that old King George died sitting on his commode!"