Bertrice Small - The Duchess

"Did she not say to you that now Quinton wouldn't love her?" Ocky said stubbornly.

"Certainly she knows better than that," Sirena replied with a small smile. "But you will recall that Quinton Hunter with his bluer than blue blood made a match with Allegra first because she was the richest heiress in England. Allegra doesn't really understand the nature of true love so how can she believe, even if he says it, that her husband truly loves her, and would love her even if she were poor? And there is the matter of an heir for Sedgwick, Ocky. Suddenly that becomes most paramount for Allegra for she is faced with the loss of probably half or more of her fortune, or value. Of course she is angry and upset."

"What can we do to help?" Viscount Pickford wondered aloud.

"We can do nothing," Sirena said quietly. "It is now up to Quinton Hunter to convince his wife that no matter what happens he will love her forever and a day, and even beyond. It will not be an easy, or a simple task." Sirena watched as the duke rode after Allegra. She could but imagine how her beloved cousin felt right now. Lost. Bereft. And she was correct about one thing. It really was embarrassing that her own mother was having a baby at this time in her life, although, Sirena thought, I will never say it. I will be happy for Mama, and Steppapa. Then she giggled to herself. She would have never imagined that Olympia Abbott Morgan was still interested, and obviously if one was to believe Allegra, very interested in matters of the flesh. But she and Lord Morgan obviously were.

"What's so funny?" her husband asked Sirena.

"I thought how amusing that at their ages Mama and Steppapa would still be being naughty. 1 did not realize one's interest could last that long," Sirena answered her husband. "Do you think we shall still be interested in being naughty when we are their age, Ocky?"

"I certainly hope so, my darling girl," the viscount replied. "I certainly hope so!"

“I want to go up to London," Allegra told her husband.

"We have just come back from London," he replied calmly. Living with his bride of six months had not been very easy these past few weeks.

"Nevertheless, Quinton, I wish to go. I am bored here. I have nothing to do. If you do not wish to come, I will understand," she responded coldly.

A message had come this morning from Aston, he knew. "You have heard from Eunice?" he attempted to change the subject.

"Yes," she said shortly.

"She is well, and Marcus, too?" He tried to elicit more information from her than she seemed willing to share with him.

"They are both well. Why wouldn't they be? She is expecting a child. She says Caroline believes she is with child, too. I, however, am not expecting a child, and I wish to go up to London. If you really loved me you would not question my motives, Quinton. I repeat. I am bored here in the country. I may even want to go to Brighton this summer. I obviously have nothing in common with my friends any longer. Why would I? They are fertile, and I, it would appear, am barren."

"If you wish to go up to London for a few weeks," he told her, "then I see no reason why you should not. I, however, must remain here at Hunter's Lair, Allegra. I have an estate to manage. And we cannot go to Brighton this year. I want you home, Allegra. I know that you are shocked by the fact your father and his wife are expecting a baby. You need time to come to terms with it. So if going to London is what you want to do, go. You shall not conceive an heir for me if we are apart, but that is your choice, my dear."

He was angry at her. He couldn't help himself. Allegra had become a self-pitying little bitch these past few weeks. He had done everything, he thought, to reassure her of his love, but for some reason he could not fathom, she didn't believe him. It was irritating to say the least. What was the matter with her?

"I'll tell Honor to pack a trunk, and be gone tomorrow," Allegra said. "I will not need much for I intend having Madame Paul make me an entire new wardrobe."

"She made you one seven months ago," he reminded her.

Allegra shrugged. "I thought while I still have the ready, Quinton, I would have a fashionable wardrobe made. When Papa's new child comes along there will be little for me."

"You do not know that," he almost shouted. "Until a few years ago you had a brother, James Lucian, and your father denied you nothing," the duke told her.

"This will be a boy," Allegra said angrily. "I just sense it. He will become Papa's heir, and I will have little. Papa is besotted with his new wife. She will influence him, and her first interest will be for her son, and not for me. Do you not understand, Quinton? You bartered your good name, and now you have been cheated."

"I love you!" he shouted at her. "I have not been cheated, damnit! I am only cheated if you run away to London and do not stay by my side where you belong, Allegra." He caught her by her shoulders. "Do you not understand, my darling duchess. I love you."

"Youare kind," she said, tears welling up in her violet eyes, "but you cannot possibly want me now, Quinton."

"I have wanted you since the moment I first saw you, Allegra," he insisted. "I want you now, and I don't give a damn about your father's wealth. I love you. I want you." And then he was kissing her passionately, his hands moving beneath her chamber robe to caress her slender body. His palms cupped her buttocks, and pulled her close. She moaned softly in his embrace, unable to help herself from pressing against him. His lips slid down her throat. He pushed her robe off, and kissed her breasts. He knelt before her, his mouth engraving a line of hot kisses down her torso. He could feel her trembling beneath his lips. He pulled her down upon the floor before the fireplace. His knee nudged her soft thighs open.

"Tell me you don't want me, too, my darling duchess," he murmured hotly against her kiss-swollen lips. "Tell me!"

"No," she replied softly. "I won't tell you that because it isn't true, and you know it. I love you, Quinton." She opened herself to him, and cried out with pleasure as he entered her body. "Ahh, yes, my darling! Yes!"

She was warm, and welcoming. He buried himself as deep as he could within her luscious body. Her hips met his in rhythmic splendor. Slowly he withdrew from her, then he plunged again, and again, and again until he was dizzy with his passion for her, and she for him. When his desire for her finally burst and mushroomed into a bloom of incredible pleasure, he thought he would die from the excess of it. "I love you," he cried. "I love you, Allegra. Do not leave me."

***

When he awoke in the morning, still before the embers of the dying fire, she was gone, and he cursed to himself that she did not believe enough in his love to trust him. Yet she must care, he thought, noting the down coverlet had been taken from the bed and carefully tucked about him. Scrambling up he yanked at the bellpull.

"Yes, Your Grace?" Hawkins had answered his summons rather quickly, the duke thought.

"When did Her Grace leave for London?" he asked his valet.

"About an hour ago, my lord," Hawkins said grimly.

"She took Honor?" God, had she not remembered her maid's wedding was to be celebrated on Sunday?

"She did," Hawkins said sourly.

"Damnation!" the duke swore softly, and then he said to his valet, "I am sorry, Hawkins, but they'll be back."

"It had better be sooner than later," the valet told his master.

"I know," the duke said. "When does Honor believe the baby is due, Hawkins?"

"Late autumn, my lord. You would have thought that Honor would tell Her Grace now that we are to be wed," Hawkins despaired.

"Do not be angry at Honor, old friend," the duke advised his valet. "She has been with her mistress since Allegra was a child. Her loyalty to the duchess is very great as is yours to me."

"If the parson had already said the words over us I should not worry so much," Hawkins told his master. "I don't want anyone thinking my Honor a loose woman. What happens when her belly begins to show?"

"They will be back long before then, Hawkins, I am certain of it. Her Grace is frightened by her father's new child. She believes I shall not love her because she is not the richest girl in England any longer," the duke explained.

"Bloody silly, if you ask me," Hawkins muttered. "You loves Her Grace, and any fool can plainly see it."

"So I am told," Quinton Hunter said with a smile. "Her Grace will go to London, and when she has had time to consider, she will realize how ridiculous it is to believe I should not love her because she is no longer her father's only heir. They will be back quickly, for as you recall, Her Grace does not really like the city at all."

***

No, she didn't like London. It was dirty, and noisy, and crowded; but it wasn't Hunter's Lair. Marker was very surprised to see her, especially without her husband. Charles Trent raised an eyebrow, but made no other comment than to welcome her return to Berkley Square. The new social season was beginning, and a fresh crop of debutantes was arriving to embark on the husband hunt. She called on Lady Bellingham.

"My dear gel, I had not thought to see yon back in town for some time to come," Lady Bellingham said. She was quite her old self now that her niece had been rescued.