Bertrice Small - The Duchess

When Crofts was certain that the royal guest and his companion were well taken care of, he sent another footman for the duke. Then he hurried upstairs to inform his mistress of the unexpected arrival. He knocked on the duchess's apartment door, to be admitted by Honor.

"Yes, Mr. Crofts, what is it?" the maidservant asked.

"Unexpected guests, Honor. Very important guests. I must see her ladyship."

"I'll have to awaken her," Honor said. "Please wait." She disappeared into Allegra's bedchamber, reappearing a few moments later. "Come in, Mr. Crofts," she beckoned the majordomo.

Slowly the elderly man entered the duchess's private chamber. She was seated in her bed, looking rather sleepy. He bowed.

"What is it, Mr. Crofts?" she asked him.

"The prince, Your Grace. Prince George, and a Mr. Brummell are here. Downstairs. In the dining room. Having breakfast," Crofts managed to get out. "I have sent for the duke."

"Good lord!" Allegra said, astounded. What was she to do?

"If your ladyship could come down," Crofts suggested. "I don't know how long it will take the duke to return to the house."

"To arrive so unexpectedly and without warning," Allegra said almost to herself.

"They should be well occupied for the next hour with cook's breakfast," Crofts offered.

Allegra nodded. "I will be down shortly," she said. She flung back the coverlet, and jumped from the bed. "Honor! What am I to wear?" Then she saw the elderly majordomo averting his eyes as he backed from her bedchamber. Allegra chuckled. "Gracious, Crofts, you are older than my papa, and have surely seen your good wife in her night attire many times." She padded hurriedly across the room, unconcerned.

"Indeed, Your Grace, I have," Crofts said as he scuttled from the room, his withered cheeks flushed, closing the door behind him.

"You must gain more dignity, your ladyship," Honor scolded her mistress.

"What on earth can Prinny and Brummell be doing here?" Allegra wondered aloud, ignoring Honor's suggestion. "Neither of them paid a great deal of attention to me in London except when I once danced with the prince. Brummell never, I will vow it, spoke a word to me when we passed. He did nod though. What am I to wear?"

"Simple, day-after-the-wedding-like," Honor said, and drew out a rosebud sprigged white silk gown with a round, scooped neckline, and puffed sleeves. "This should do it."

"I need to bathe," Allegra protested.

"A birdbath will do, your ladyship," Honor said. "I've reheated the basin I left for you by the fire last night."

"Oh, I forgot all about it," Allegra said. "What was it for?"

"A lady should always wash her private parts after making love with her husband," Honor said bluntly. "Now, go and give yourself a quick sponge while I get your stockings and slippers."

There was blood on her thighs! She stared, horrified, and then she recalled that Sirena had said there would be. And on the bed linens as well. She blushed. Such an intimate fact, and it would be known soon enough by the whole household. Well, Allegra thought, at least her virtue would never be in doubt. She carefully washed herself, noting as she did that she was indeed tender. And Quinton had been so considerate.

As she dressed she wondered why on earth the prince and his friend would come to Hunter's Lair the day after their wedding. It was indelicate to say the least, but then princes did what they wanted, and devil take the hindmost. She sat quietly in her petticoat while Honor dressed her hair in its chignon. She selected her wedding necklace and earbobs to wear, and put on her dress. Slipping her feet into her slippers she said, "I am ready, Honor." Then she left her apartment, going down the stairs and into her dining room where the prince was just finishing his repast. Allegra curtsied. "Welcome to Hunter's Lair, Your Highness," she said.

“My dear Miss Morgan," Prinny said as he arose from the table, smiling. Then he kissed her hand. "We have come for the wedding," he announced.

"The wedding?" Allegra was somewhat taken aback, but there was no help for it. "The wedding, Your Highness, was yesterday," she replied truthfully.

"Yesterday?" The prince looked quite astounded and then aggrieved.

George BrummeH's face looked as if he was struggling to hold back his laughter.

"Yesterday, Your Highness," Allegra confirmed. "If you had but informed us you were coming…" Her voice trailed off helplessly.

"When word came that you had decided to marry here and not in London," the prince began, sitting heavily in his chair, "I thought that young Brummell and I would come to surprise you with our presence. I did not think that you would be wed so early in October." There was a faintly reproachful tone to his voice, as if she had done something wrong.

"I am sure that Her Grace did not mean to disappoint," George Brummell quickly interjected. He was a slender gentleman with an elegant nose, beautifully coifed dark hair, and blue eyes that were always alert.

"No, no, of course not," Allegra said quickly. "If you had but sent us notice, Your Highness, we would have waited. What a great honor it would have been for us all to have you at our wedding."

Prinny, however, looked very disappointed. As if he were a child who had expected some wonderful treat that had failed to materialize.

"But I am so delighted, Your Highness," Allegra continued, "that you have honored us with a visit. You will remain, of course. My husband has a hunting party each October. The other guests will be arriving in a few days. They will be thrilled to learn Your Highness and his companion, Mr. Brummell, are here."

"But if you were wed yesterday, won't you be going on a wedding trip, Your Grace?" the prince asked.

"Gracious, no, Your Highness. We plan a trip next spring, perhaps to Italy. Quinton has spoken to me of a city called Venice." She smiled at the prince. "Can you imagine a city where the streets are water?" she laughed. "I must see it to believe it."

"Well, it will not be soon, Your Grace," the prince told her. "That rascal Corsican, name of Napoleon, is on the march in Italy, and believe me, Venice is threatened. The whole damned Venetian empire is."

"Oh dear," Allegra said, disappointed.

"You'll have to take an old-fashioned wedding trip to Devon, or to the lakes," Prinny said with a sympathetic smile.

Brummell saw the look of disappointment on Allegra's face. "Do not be sad, Your Grace," he told her, "that Froggie rogue will soon be marched to Madame la Guillotine. His own peers can't abide him, and when the Bourbon king is restored, he'll have no friends at all at that court."

"And then may I see the city of water?" Allegra said.

"Indeed, madame, you surely will," Brummell agreed.

"Your Highness!" Quinton Hunter strode into the room. "Welcome to Hunter's Lair. You honor us." He swept the prince a bow, nodding at George Brummell in greeting.

"We came for the wedding," the prince repeated, "only to learn from your charming bride that it was celebrated yesterday. Should have been here but for the wretched weather. Roads were so muddy and foul we had to stop our journey. Stayed at a dreadful place called The Royal George, and by Jove, I'll have the name of the place changed, I will! Food wasn't fit for pigs, and the beds were flea-bitten."

"I have asked the prince to remain for your hunting party," Allegra told her startled husband. "It seemed the hospitable thing to do, my lord, with our guests arriving in just a few days' time."

George Brummell saw the surprised look that appeared, and was as quickly gone from the duke's face. Why there is no hunting party planned at all, he thought, amused at the clever temerity of the young Duchess of Sedgwick. But there would be. And in very short order, too, he expected. Brummell restrained a chuckle. He hadn't paid a great deal of attention to Allegra Morgan last season, but now he realized his mistake. The young woman was no foolish creature. She was intelligent; she was quick; and he admired her audacity. Their visit was going to prove very amusing.

"Who is included in this hunting party, Your Grace?" he asked wickedly, his blue eyes dancing mischievously.

Allegra easily saw that he was on to her, but certainly the prince wasn't. His Highness was as dense as pudding. "It's a small party, just my husband and his three closest friends. They have hunted together for years at this time every autumn, Mr. Brummell. Lord Walworth, the Earl of Aston, and Viscount Pickford. It is very intimate, you understand, and now that these four gentlemen are wed, the party shall be even merrier," Allegra said sweetly. Then she turned to the prince. "I hope that Your Highness will not be bored. Now that you are here, I shall invite the widowed Lady Perry and her sister, Lady Johnstone. That way we shall be even at dinner." She smiled brightly at them.

"Excellent! Excellent!" the prince agreed.

"Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I will go and have two of our guest chambers readied for you and Mr. Brummell, Your Highness," Allegra said. She curtsied, and moved serenely from the dining room.

"By Jove, Quinton," the prince pronounced, "that's a fine girl you've married! Going to make you an excellent duchess, even if she ain't of the first order bloodwise. It don't hurt to improve the stock with something less than a thoroughbred young mare now and again."