Bertrice Small - Deceived

His antagonist's eyes were suddenly cold with disdain as he scathingly dismissed Charles Trahern. Valerian Hawkesworth turned to his companion. "Come, Cousin St. John," he said. "It is time to go home now." Graciously he acknowledged Sir Roger, Lord Shelley, and the other gentlemen as they moved through the path opening for them amid the crowd. At the front door of Boodles the duke lifted his hat to the members and stepped forth onto the street where his coach awaited. His companion, catching Sir Roger's eye for the briefest of moments, winked mischievously.

Sir Roger Andrews burst out laughing as in a flash he recognized Aurora in the young man's garb.

Hearing him, Aurora grinned with satisfaction as she joined her husband in their carriage and it moved off into the London traffic back to Farminster House. Trahern, they learned the next morning as they prepared to leave, had gotten himself gloriously drunk, and when Boodles had finally closed the previous evening, Mr. Almack, its owner and founder, had asked several of the gentlemen to escort Lord Trahern home, where his wife, Lady Maybelle, was awaiting him with some very harsh words. This was reported to them by Sir Roger, who had come by to wish them a safe and speedy journey. The entire ton was alternately shocked, fascinated, and titillated by Charles Trahern's marriage, Sir Roger said, and he was already bestruck from the guest lists of English society. Mr. Almack, however, had a kinder heart than London's prime hostesses. As long as Lord Trahern paid his chits within a reasonable time, he would remain a member of Boodles.

"Almack says a fellow's got to have a place to escape the old ball and chain, even an unsuitable one," Sir Roger stated as he took his leave of the Duke and Duchess of Farminster, never once alluding to Aurora's masquerade the previous day, for Sir Roger prided himself on his gentlemanly behavior. And he also secretly believed that the young duchess had deserved the opportunity to see the downfall of the man who had attempted to slander her name in so vile a manner.

***

Their journey home to Hawkes Hill was a pleasant one, for England was experiencing a spate of fair weather and the roads were hard and firm, not dusty with drought or muddy with rain. Their armed escort assured that no highwaymen would accost them or their baggage coaches. When Hawkes Hill came into view, the coach suddenly stopped, much to the duke's surprise, and a footman opened the door of the vehicle, lowering the steps for their descent. The duke looked puzzled, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Aurora spoke instead.

"I have asked to have the carriage stop here," she said. "Do you mind if we walk the rest of the way home. We can see the house, and it isn't really far, Valerian."

"If it would please you," he said, curious, and leaping out, turned back to help her descend. "Go along, Mainwaring," he said to his coachman when they were clear of the coach. "Her grace would like to walk."

Aurora slipped her hand through Valerian's, and they walked together as their transport rumbled past them and across the greensward toward Hawkes Hill. The air was sweet and warm, as they passed through a nearby field covered in rock rose, poppies, and daisies. "Ohhh, it is so good to be home," she said. "I will never leave again no matter what," Aurora declared vehemently.

"What is it?" he asked her intuitively.

"What is what?" she teased him.

"You have something to tell me," he said. "I sense it, my darling. I am so attuned to you, Aurora, that you will never be able to keep anything of import from me." He stopped and looked down into her face questioningly.

"We are to have a baby," she said, laughing. "Oh, Valerian, I am so happy! A baby! Our first child! How I have longed to give you an heir. I never realized it until suddenly I realized that I was with child. Martha knew immediately. And when I told Lotte, she insisted that her own physician examine me, and he said yes!"

He had grown pale with shock. "No!" he said in a strangulated voice. "My God, Aurora! What have I done to you in my lust for you?"

She was startled. "Don't you want our baby?" she said.

"Not if it means losing you," he cried desperately, catching her to his chest. "I love you, Aurora, and I do not want you to die as your sister did! I could not bear to lose you, my darling!"

Aurora burst out laughing and pulled away from him. "Oh, Valerian, I am not Cally. I want this baby. I am overjoyed to be carrying this child. The queen's physician says I am in excellent health and spirits. He says I should have a houseful of babies with no danger to my health. I am not Cally."

"But your own mother died in childbirth," he said.

"Many white women in the Indies do, Valerian," she said. "We have no medical assistance, and must depend upon our women servants, who are as ignorant there as they are here. St. Timothy is a small island domain. Perhaps if we had lived on Barbados, or Jamaica, my mother would not have died. I am not my mother, and I shall have a doctor to shepherd me through my confinement. I will not have you worrying until November, Valerian. I won't!"

He kissed her, his mouth softly caressing hers, and then he swept her up in his arms and began walking toward the house.

"What on earth are you doing, Valerian Hawkesworth?" she squealed. "Put me down this instant, my lord!"

"You must not overtax yourself, my darling," he said seriously.

"You are a great fool," she laughed, snuggling into his embrace and laying her head against his shoulder.

"What has happened to Aurora!" The old dowager came hurrying toward them. "Is she all right, Valerian? Why are you carrying her?"

"I am to have a baby, madam, and this great fool has gone mad, I believe. Come, my lord, put me down. I will not endure another scandal at your hands now that I am at last safely home."

"Put her down at once, sir!" his grandmother commanded, and the duke obeyed with a grin. Then she turned to Aurora. "My dear, 1 am so happy for you both!" She kissed Aurora on both her pink cheeks. "And you also, my lord. How was London?"

"Crowded, dirty, noisy, and scandalous," the duke replied. "I am home to stay, dear madam. Scandal or no, we are home for good, and nothing will convince me otherwise."

"Their majesties are well? What is she like?" the old lady inquired.

"Delightful," Aurora said. "It was the queen's physician who confirmed my condition. She, too, is with child, and will deliver England's next king in August, madam."

"How wonderful!" the dowager replied as they entered the house, Peters hurrying forth to take their cloaks.

"Welcome home, your grace," the butler said to the duke. "Welcome home, your grace." He bowed to Aurora. "Tea is being served in the Yellow Salon."

They hurried into the sunny room and settled themselves.

"And has the scandal of our marriage died down yet, my dear grandmother?" the duke said, pouring himself a sherry in lieu of the tea the old woman was now serving.

"Of course," she said, "although for a while I thought it would not what with the reports of your riotous living up in London returning to titillate the district."

"Riotous living?" Aurora burst out laughing. "Someone has a rather fertile imagination, Grandmama. We lived a most circumspect life, I fear. I became friends with the queen, who is really a sweet little hausfrau, as am I. I think anyone else would have been bored to death. Several of the queen's ladies were, in fact, quite put out by our friendship. I was not, I fear, grand enough for them, and quite dull in their eyes, what with my talk of preserves and soapmaking."

The dowager chortled. "Well, my dears, you have at last been supplanted by a far more shocking scandal. It should be some time before it dies down, I am happy to say, at which point you and Valerian will be considered a respectable married couple, especially as you are to have an heir before the year is out." She chortled again, her blue eyes dancing with merriment.

"Well," the duke said, sounding just slightly aggravated, "are you going to tell us, Grandmama, what this new and obviously delicious scandal is?" He sipped his sherry.

"It does involve the family," the dowager teased him.

"St. John!" Aurora guessed. "It has to be St. John. Only he would have the ability to cause a greater scandal than we did."

The dowager laughed aloud now.

"Well, dammit, madam, what has my cousin done?" the duke demanded irritably. "I am astounded that he would try to outdo our alleged calumny, but then, St. John always must have the last word!"

The dowager laughed harder, tears coming to her eyes. "Well, dearest Valerian, he has indeed outdone you this time, and the entire district is talking about it, will be talking about it for months to come. What a rascal St. John is, but this time he has bitten off a tiny bit more than he can chew, although his fate is a better one than he deserves, I can tell you."

"Well, what has he done?" the duke almost shouted.

The dowager managed to compose herself. "St. John," she said, "eloped two days ago to Gretna Green with Miss Isabelle Bowen!"

ENGLAND, 1770

On June 6,1770, the Dowager Duchess of Farminster celebrated her eightieth birthday privately, with only her family as guests at a small party. The back lawns of Hawkes Hill, overlooking the magnificent gardens now abloom with roses, were manicured perfectly. A tea table was even now being set up with fine linen, the silver tea service, and the new porcelain dessert set from Dr. Wall's pottery in Worcester town. There was to be a cake with sugar icing filled with cream and strawberries.