Aurora stood, offering her hand to Lord Trahern. "You are really so generous, my lord. I know Valerian is most appreciative too, aren't you, my darling?"

"Oh… yes," the duke replied, forcing a smile.

Lord Trahern kissed Aurora's hand. "While I am quite devastated by the news of Calandra's death, I am so pleased we are to be friends, my dear Aurora." He smiled toothily at her.

She gently extracted her hand from his grip, smiling back. "It is wonderful to know we have such a good friend, my lord. I know my dear Cally would be happy to know it too."

Together the ducal couple escorted their guest into the main foyer of the house. Manners opened the door, and Lord Trahern, blowing a kiss to Aurora with his fingertips, departed. His haste to hurry forth and spread the word of what he had just heard was patently evident.

Valerian Hawkesworth turned to his wife. "You are extraordinary," he said admiringly. "You have missed your calling, Aurora. You would be a most superb actress."

"Being an actress is hardly as respectable as being a duchess," she replied pertly.

"I thought you did not want to be a duchess," he teased her as they returned to the morning room.

"I have changed my mind," she said calmly. "I adore being a duchess as long as I can be your wife, Valerian."

"Sometimes," he said, "I want to strangle you." And then, "You were quite good with Trahern, my darling. How do you manage? He is really a dreadful little toad."


"But a gossipy toad," she replied, "and since he will gossip, I should prefer he be our friend rather than our enemy, Valerian. I spoke the truth when I told him he knows everyone of importance. He does. Cally saw it immediately, and that is why she latched on to him, for he was her ticket to those heady social heights she so longed to climb. He will tell our tale cleverly and with wry humor. Some will be shocked, but most people in the ton will, as your grandmother so wisely observed, be amused by your haste to marry me and secure my dowry. With Trahern on our side, there will be no scandal in London."

"But we want to be at Hawkes Hill, and there is scandal there," the duke observed.

"It is only temporary, my darling," she reassured him. "There is bound to be another scandal in the district soon enough. Don't forget that St. John is once more a footloose bachelor. Heaven only knows what mischief he will get into before the spring." And then she laughed.

Chapter 14

The Earl of Bute was giving a ball, and it was there that Valerian and Aurora would be presented to their majesties.

"You will beggar me with your extravagance," the duke groaned when he saw Aurora's ball gown. "You are no better than your sister, I fear, and will certainly put me in the poorhouse."

"Oh, pooh, my lord!" she responded sharply. "You are a rich man, and I have brought you a rich dowry. You certainly cannot want me to greet their majesties looking like a milkmaid."

"A prize heifer would be of more value to me than that gown you are wearing," he grumbled.

"Fiddlesticks!" she snapped back. And then, "Have you seen my dancing shoes, Valerian?" She presented him with a pointed foot, shod in a silk shoe decorated with a rosette in whose center was a glittering diamond.

"Is it real?" he demanded, half shocked.

"Of course," she replied calmly. "You surely would not expect me to wear a false jewel. Do you like the length of my gown? It is the newest rage, and ever so practical for dancing."

"Indeed," he remarked, noting the gown's hem ended just at her neatly turned ankle. Then he allowed himself a small smile. She looked absolutely spectacular. Her gown was of lavender satin, its cream-colored underskirt embroidered in peach, blue, lavender, and pink flowers with pale green stems and leaves. The U-shaped neckline was edged in delicate silver lace and lavender silk bows sewn with tiny seed pearls. The bodice had a ladderlike decoration of ribbon bows known as echelle. Silver lace engageants dripped from the fitted sleeves. "You will turn heads, Aurora," he graciously admitted. "Just remember I am a jealous man where you are concerned, my darling."

"I can be jealous too," she told him, her eyes sweeping over his form. He was incredibly handsome, and looked every bit a duke. Because it was a formal occasion, he was garbed in cream satin breeches with silver buckles at his knees. His matching stockings were silk, as was his shirt. His waistcoat was a scrollwork pattern of black and gold on cream, his dress coat lavender satin to match her gown. His dancing shoes had jeweled buckles.

"Are they genuine?" she teased him.

"Of course," he mocked her. "You surely would not expect me to wear false jewels." Then he drew a velvet-covered box from his coat pocket. "These are for you, Aurora."

She opened the small case to reveal a pair of fat pear-shaped pearl earbobs set in gold, and a matching pearl choker from which dangled a delicately filigreed gold cross. "How lovely!" she exclaimed. Handing the case to Martha, who was beaming her approval, she fastened the earbobs into her ears and then lifted out the choker, handing it to him. "Will you put it on, please?"

He complied, explaining, "The Hawkesworth vault is filled with jewelry, and it is yours, Aurora, but most of it is from another time. It is old-fashioned, and to my eye a trifle gaudy. I purchased these especially for you. There, now turn around so I may see you."

When she did, she asked him, "Did you ever buy Cally jewelry?"

"No," he said quietly.

"You both look just grand!" Martha said enthusiastically, smoothing away the awkwardness that had suddenly arisen betwixt husband and wife. "Now, your ladyship, you remember your manners," she cautioned. "After all, this is our king and queen you're to meet tonight."

"Yes, Martha," the duchess answered her servant dutifully, and then she and the duke chuckled along with Martha.

The ball was to be held at St. James's Palace. Many of their neighbors about the square would also be going to the ball, and their coach joined a line of vehicles heading toward the palace. Aurora felt as if a colony of butterflies had suddenly taken up residence in her tummy. The few balls she had attended previously would surely pale in comparison with this affair. And she didn't know anyone. And what if the king and queen didn't like her?

Valerian Hawkesworth noted how pale his wife had become. He reached over and took her gloved hand in his, squeezing it gently. "They are only two people. A young, newly married couple like ourselves," he comforted her.

"Have you ever met the king?" Aurora asked her husband.

"No," he answered. "We do not travel in the same circles, for I am a country man, as you know. I have heard, however, that the king is much interested in agriculture."

"And Trahern says the queen is a simple girl," Aurora remarked.

"They are our sovereigns, and we will greet them with respect and affection," the duke replied.

Their carriage reached St. James's Palace, and exiting it, they followed along with the crowd of similarly garbed ladies and gentlemen, moving up a wide staircase, and finally to the impressive entrance of a magnificent ballroom. The duke murmured softly to the liveried majordomo.

The majordomo called out in stentorian tones, "His grace, the Duke of Farminster, and her grace, the Duchess of Farminster."

As they passed into the ballroom, Aurora wondered if anyone had even heard the majordomo. The noise of several hundred chattering voices was incredible. Looking about, she suffered a brief moment of panic and wished that they hadn't come at all. There were no familiar faces at all. They were in a sea of strangers. She clutched Valerian's arm tightly and hoped that her nerves didn't show.

"Hawkesworth! I say, Hawkesworth!" A pleasant-faced young man pushed his way beside them.

"Mottley," the duke replied, and then, turning to Aurora, he said, "My dear, this is Lord Robert Mottley, a former school chum. Mottley, my wife, Lady Aurora Hawkesworth."

Lord Mottley bowed politely, kissing Aurora's hand. "Your grace," he said, "I am honored." Then, before Aurora might even reply, Lord Mottley turned to Valerian, saying, "What on earth are you doing here of all places, Hawkesworth? I thought it was your custom to eschew London and high society."

"It most certainly is," the duke chuckled, "but I was unable to pay my respects to the king last autumn when he was married, and then later coronated. I felt it my duty to do so now."

"You'll like him, Hawkesworth," Lord Mottley said with a twinkle in his eye. Then he lowered his voice. "We call him Farmer George, for he does love all things pertaining to country life, and the little queen does too. They are well matched. The rumor is, although, of course, it has not yet been officially announced, that her majesty is with child, but her waist seems as slim as it was on her wedding day, I vow, so who knows what truth there is in the rumor. Who is sponsoring your introduction to their majesties, or have you no one?"

"The Earl of Bute," the duke answered.

"Bute? Well, Hawkesworth, you do have high connections. I would not have thought so, but put no faith in Bute. He will not last long, for the Whigs hate him and the Tories but tolerate him. An introduction is about all he is good for, I fear."

"Aurora, mon ange, you look divine," she heard Charles Trahern murmur in her ear, and then he popped about into her view. "Hello, Mottley, how are you? Still looking for a wife? Not much available tonight in this room for a baronet of modest means," Lord Trahern snickered. "I will wager, however, that Aurora might know some sweet country lass of good breeding who can fill your nursery."