"Say yes, Mama!" she half whispered, her tone almost desperate.

But Oralia Kimberly held firm. "No," she said. "I cannot permit such a thing. Be reasonable, Aurora. Your father planned this marriage before your birth. If he were alive, we should not be having this conversation at all. I will discuss it no further." She arose from the dining table and hurried from the room.

"I want to be a duchess," Calandra whined.

"You will be," Aurora assured her stepsister.

"You heard what Mama said," George reminded them.

"Mama will change her mind, I promise you," Aurora said with a mischievous grin. "She will have little choice when the duke's ship sails into the harbor and I am still refusing to marry him. When that moment comes, her resoluteness will collapse entirely, for she will be considering what I have said over these next few weeks, George. No matter how honest and good she is, she cannot help but consider how marvelous Cally will look in a duchess's jewels; or of how much she will enjoy visiting Jamaica, and boasting of her daughter, the Duchess of Farminster." Aurora laughed, and then she stood up from the table. "We really must begin considering your wedding gown, Cally."

Calandra pushed her chair back. "Do you really think we can persuade Mama, Aurora?" She stood.

"You just leave it to me, little sister" was the answer.

"Do not call me little sister! We are both to be seventeen," Cally protested.

"But my birthday is April sixth, and yours is June first. That makes me the elder by two months," Aurora teased her stepsister.

"Oh, you!" Calandra giggled. Then she said, "What do you think this duke is like, Aurora?"

"He is undoubtedly most arrogant, and overweening proud" came the reply. "Not once in all my life has he communicated with me, nor, do I believe, did he ever write to Papa."

"Did you ever consider," George said quietly, "that perhaps he did not know he was to be married either? There are letters in Papa's strongbox from a James Hawkesworth. I told you that I don't believe anyone has looked through that box since Papa died. Certainly Mama didn't. God only knows what else is there. Shall we go and look?"

"Yes! Yes!" his sisters chorused in unison, and the trio made their way from the dining room to the late Robert Kimberly's beautiful paneled study.

Settling themselves on the floor, they dragged the box into their midst. Opening it, George Spencer-Kimberly pulled forth a packet of letters tied with hemp twine. Undoing the binding, he opened the first of the letters which was on the bottom, and perused it.

"This is the first letter from James Hawkesworth. He seems to be the Third Duke of Farminster. He writes to tell Papa that his son, Charles, has been drowned with his wife and daughter in a boating accident. His grandson, Valerian, he says, was not with them, and although the boy is devastated by the loss, he will recover. He says he is glad that his son made this match between their families, and that he will make certain that the obligation is honored when little Charlotte is grown. He asks after her."

"How touching," Aurora said dryly.

"I think he sounds like a nice old man," Cally ventured to add.

"So," her elder sister said, "we know that Valerian Hawkesworth's parents and sisters are dead, and that he was raised by his grandfather."

"And grandmother," George corrected her. "James Hawkesworth mentions his wife. He wrote to Papa twice a year. In June, and in December. From the tone of his letters, Papa obviously wrote him back, passing on news of the family, and how you were growing up, Aurora."

"Does this old duke ever refer to me as Aurora?" she asked.

"I will have to read through all the letters," George replied, "but from what I can see, it would appear not."

"What does he say about the grandson?" Aurora's aquamarine-blue eyes were thoughtful, and her brow just slightly furrowed.

"Not a great deal. Wait, here is something! It's in the last letter, which was written June last. There is no December letter."

"Of course not. The old man obviously died," Aurora noted. "Well, come, George, and tell us what the June letter says."

"It is not very long. You know, it would appear that the old duke wrote Papa in his own hand, and did not use a secretary. The writing is quite spidery."


My dear Robert,

I have not been well these last months. It would seem that passing one's seventieth birthday takes a toll on the health. From my calculations, it would appear that little Charlotte has celebrated her sixteenth birthday. The contract between our two families calls for the marriage of your daughter and my grandson to be celebrated next year after Charlotte's seventeenth birthday. Valerian has grown into as fine a man as one could wish. I will tell him soon of the arrangement made between his father and you all those years ago. He will come for your daughter next spring, but we shall have to correspond before that, of course. My good wife sends greetings to you and your family. I remain, as ever, James Hawkesworth, Third Duke of Farminster.


George lay the letter aside and said, "You see, Aurora, your duke knew nothing about this marriage between you. He was as much in the dark as you were."

"There is no further correspondence?"

"Only the letter Mama received this morning," George replied.

"Where is it?" Aurora demanded to know.

Calandra jumped up, crying, "Here! On Papa's desk! Mama has lain it there by force of habit." Her hazel eyes scanned the missive quickly. Then she read:


"To Robert Kimberly.

It is with grieving heart that I write to tell you of my husband's passing in early November. His. heir, our grandson, Valerian, has assumed his duties as the Fourth Duke of Farminster. I see from James's correspondence with you that the time approaches for the marriage between your daughter, Charlotte, and Valerian. My grandson will sail February the tenth from Plymouth aboard the Royal George. We look forward to receiving Charlotte into the family, and I will do my best to see she is made comfortable. And please reassure Charlotte that I will personally advise her, and train her in her new duties as Duchess of Farminster. Please know that you and your family will always be welcome at Hawkes Hill Hall. I remain, Mary Rose Hawkesworth, Dowager Duchess of Farminster.


"Oh, my!" Calandra sighed. "Doesn't it all sound grand? I wonder what a duchess's duties are, Aurora. Do you think I can do them?"

"Just more manners, I suspect," Aurora reassured her stepsister, "and you are wonderously clever at learning the civilities, decorums, and etiquette of society, Cally. I cannot be bothered with such folderol."

George had been going through the previous duke's correspondence as his sisters spoke. Now he said, "There is no mention of you being called Aurora, my clever little sister. The bride is mentioned only as Charlotte in all the correspondence."

"But what if Papa referred to her in his letters as Aurora?" Calandra suggested. "What will we do then?"

"Since this duke wasn't aware of the marriage plans his family made," Aurora said slowly, "it is unlikely he has ever seen the letters Papa wrote to his grandfather. I question if the old duke even kept the correspondence between them. His lady wife does not seem overly familiar with the situation, I divine."

"Papa kept the letters he received," Calandra pointed out.

"Yes," Aurora agreed, "but it was more in Papa's interest to keep them in the event the Hawkesworth family attempted to cry off, or conveniently forget the betrothal and marry off their heir to a wealthier heiress. Papa's letters from the duke would have given him grounds for an action in the courts should he have felt the Kimberly honor besmirched. You know how proud Papa was of the family."

"We can find no evidence the duke knows he was betrothed to Charlotte Aurora," George said. "I believe it is worth taking the chance of marrying him to Cally. How can he possibly find out that a switch has been made?"

"And if he does," Aurora said, "it is to be hoped that by that time he will harbor some tender feeling for Cally, and that she will have borne him an heir. Besides, he will have St. Timothy Plantation. What will he have lost by our little ruse?" She smiled at her stepbrother. "I am so glad you agree with me, George."

"I do not know if I agree with you at all," the young man answered her, "but I do know that once you have set your mind to something, Aurora, you will not change it easily, if at all. I think you are being foolish, because I believe you to be frightened of this sudden shift in your life. Papa wanted you to have this marriage, but if you will not have it, then I can do nothing more than attempt to see the family is not endangered by your foolish action. The duke shall have a Charlotte Kimberly to wed even if it is not the correct Charlotte Kimberly."

"Papa would be very proud of you, George," Aurora told him. "He always said he wished he were your natural father instead of just your stepfather. He loved you and Cally every bit as much as he loved me. That is why he legally adopted you and gave you his name as well as that of your own dead father. I wish he had left you St. Timothy instead of leaving it to me. Then nothing would have ever changed."

George reached out and took Aurora's hand in his. "I might bear Papa's name, little sister, but I am not of his blood. It was blood that made his decision for him. As you have already said, he was proud of his family. I am well provided for, God knows, and he has requested in his will that the duke continue my tenure as manager and overseer of St. Timothy. I am good at it, Aurora! There is no reason the duke will not honor Papa's request, and as long as the plantation remains prosperous, he will have no cause for complaint, will he?"