"Let us forget my wife for the moment," he told her. "Tell me of what it was like to grow up on St. Timothy."

"It was wonderful," Aurora began. Perhaps her recollections would help him to understand Cally better, and allow them to forge a deeper, more loving relationship. "I remember nothing but St. Timothy, although George says he thinks he remembers Jamaica. Robert Kimberly formally adopted us immediately. He filed the papers in Barbados. He is the only father I have ever known." Well, at least that was the truth, Aurora thought to herself. "There was never any rivalry between any of us. I have been told that brothers and sisters often fight, but we never did. When we were small, we made up a motto, and we have adhered to it all of our lives. You heard us speak it the day you and my sister departed St. Timothy. Together. Forever. As one."

The duke nodded. "Cally never explained it to me," he said. "I think it is charming. Go on."

"There is really little to tell," Aurora continued. "Our home was filled with love. Mama was the gentler parent, and it was easy to get around her. Papa was the sterner one, but he was never cruel, never beat any of us, and getting around him was a victory." She laughed with the memory. "We had a tutor for lessons. George and I excelled, and were in frequent competition. Cally did not like learning a great deal. She was better at female pursuits like embroidery, painting, and music. George and I rode a great deal, but Cally has never really liked horses, as I told you previously. My brother and I loved swimming together, but Cally does not like the water, and always feared for her delicate skin in the sun. When we were small, the three of us would paddle about in the shallows beneath Martha's eye, but from the time she was about six, Cally did not enjoy being naked, and refused to swim with us. And when we were eight, Martha decided that George and I could not swim together unless he wore his drawers and I wore a chemise. We did not understand why at the time, but we obeyed her directive. Martha can be very severe, and Mama told us we must obey her."

"And you never left your island kingdom?" the duke said.

Aurora shook her head. "No. There was no need to leave it. We had everything we needed there."

"And no one came to visit?"

"Rarely. Mama's family in Jamaica had disowned her when she ran away with her first husband, our father. He was of good family, but the black sheep, I fear. He was killed in a duel. Poor Mama. She always believed she could reform him, but it was not to be. He had been dead over a year when she met Papa. Her first husband had left her practically impoverished. A cousin, who knew Papa, took pity on Mama and invited her to dinner the same night she had invited Papa. Mama says it was love at first sight. They were married a month later, shocking Mama's family once again. They would not even come to the wedding, and voiced their opinion about Kingston that Mama would once again suffer for her impulsive behavior. I do not believe they would have been welcome on St. Timothy even if they had come. No, we had few visitors on the island. An occasional planter or sea captain. No one else."

A simple meal was served as she spoke. A clear soup, a lemon sole, a roast of beef with Yorkshire pudding, a dish of carrots, and another of turnip. For all her chatter, Aurora managed to eat with a hearty appetite, much to the duke's amazement. Her appetite was quite astoundingly prodigious for a girl with such a small frame. In London they had rarely taken a meal together, Calandra preferring to serve her guests meals on trays before departing for a ball, and when they had had dinner at another house he had been nowhere near Aurora to see her eat with the gusto with which she was now eating. Where did she put it all? he wondered.

"Tell me about your childhood," she said as she spooned up the last of her sherried trifle from a Wedgwood dish. "You lost your parents when you were young, didn't you?"

"Like you," he said, escorting her back into the drawing room, "I had a happy childhood, cut all too short when my parents, and sister, Sophia, were drowned returning from France. My grandparents then took it upon themselves to raise me. I was tutored until I went off to Oxford. I came home after two years. I prefer my country life, my horses, the cattle and sheep I raise. I have my own mills, and Hawkes yarn is becoming quite well known throughout England. I have formed a small company and market it myself. Your sister was quite horrified when she learned of it. She considers farming and trade beneath a gentleman, but the king loves farming too." They sat together upon a tapestried settee. "Will you miss London, like Cally?" he asked her.

"No," Aurora told him. "Like you, I am a country mouse." The scent of him was filling her head and making her dizzy.

"Then perhaps you will ride with me in the morning. If your sister keeps to her schedule, we shall not see her much before two in the afternoon," he said dryly.

"It has been a long journey," Aurora replied. "I think perhaps tomorrow I shall stay abed until at least nine o'clock."

"Of course," he said. "We shall ride later, and I will show you one of my little mills. Perhaps George will be up to coming too." What was that fragrance that surrounded her? It was so clean and fresh.

"That would be nice," Aurora murmured. His big hand lay almost next to hers upon her skirt, his upon his knee. She could feel the heat from it. She had to get a grip upon herself!

There was a long, deep silence between them. He did not know what to say, and feared to speak to speak at all lest he break the spell between them.

Finally Aurora forced herself to her feet. "It has been a tiring day, Valerian," she said. "I believe I shall go to my room now." Were her knees going to hold her up?

"Let me escort you," he said, jumping up and taking her arm.

She wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary. That she was perfectly capable of finding her way out into the hall and walking up the staircase to her bedroom. There was no danger in it. Martha would be there waiting for her, but somehow Aurora could say nothing except "Thank you, Valerian." His fingers gripped her elbow in a firm yet gentle grasp. It was ridiculous, but she felt safe with him somehow, and there was really nothing wrong in his polite actions. The problem was with her. He was engendering feelings within her that she had never before experienced, and she must get a hold of herself at once. She must remember that this man was her sister's husband. If their marriage had not been a happy one to date, it soon would be. It had to be! Cally would have a child, and everything would be all right.

They mounted the stairs together. Behind them the servants were snuffing out the candles. Reaching the door of her bedroom, Valerian stopped, and releasing his grip on her arm leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead.

"Good night, Aurora," he said. "Pleasant dreams." Then he walked off down the corridor to his own rooms.

She stepped through the doorway into her chamber. Her heart was pounding. When he had moved toward her she had thought she would faint, and then his lips had touched her forehead. She had been actually disappointed. Aurora knew she ought to be ashamed of herself, but she somehow couldn't bring herself to be. I must never again be alone with him, she thought. It is too dangerous. He is unhappy, and it is all my fault, but I cannot change anything now.

"You're as white as a sheet," Martha said, coming up and taking Aurora's hands in hers. "And you're cold as ice. What has happened?"


"Nothing," Aurora lied. "Nothing at all. I am just beginning to feel the effects of our journey, and am exhausted. I want to go to bed."

"Very well, miss," Martha said, but she did not for one minute believe that everything was right with her young mistress.

Chapter 6

It was past ten o'clock in the morning before Martha awakened her mistress the next day. Gently she shook the girl, and when Aurora had finally opened her eyes, the serving woman said, "I've brought your breakfast, miss." Then she plumped the pillows up behind the girl's back and placed a tray upon her lap. "The duke asked if you would ride with him this morning, but I told him you was still sleeping, and much too tired for all that activity today. I hope I did right, miss."

Disappointment commingled with relief. "You did, Martha. I am far too fatigued. I think I shall take a leaf from Cally's book and remain the morning in bed."

"An excellent idea, miss. The dowager's Jane tells me that's what the old lady is going to do too."

"Have you spoken with Wickham? Is George recovered?"

"Recovered, ate a huge breakfast, and gone off with the duke," Martha reported with a smile. "Now, there's some nice oat stirabout I sweetened with honey on your tray, and a soft-boiled egg. You eat every bit of it up, miss. You need your strength."

It felt good to be cosseted, Aurora thought as she spooned the oat cereal, rich with honey and heavy cream, into her mouth. She had certainly imagined last evening. Valerian Hawkesworth was too much of a gentleman to make advances to his wife's sister. She was simply overtired. They had had the voyage from St. Timothy, and then she had not really had a moment's rest since they arrived in England. Cally would not hear of it, and was constantly on the go, George and Aurora in her wake. The country was going to be a lovely change of pace.

She stayed the morning in bed. Calandra was nowhere to be found, and Aurora assumed she would still be in her chambers. George and the duke had not returned. The dowager kept to her bed. Aurora found her way to the duke's library, and, taking down a book on the history of the Hawkesworth family, settled into a chair by the fire to read. Peters, the butler, interrupted her at one point to ask if she would like him to bring her a tray with some luncheon.