Bertrice Small - The Duchess

"I am not certain I am comfortable that you understand me so well, so quickly," the duke said to her candidly.

She blushed at his remark, but replied spiritedly, "If our marriage is to be a successful venture, my lord, I must certainly understand you, and you me."

"How old are you?" he asked her.

"You don't know? I am seventeen. I will be eighteen on the ninth of December. How old did you think I was?" It suddenly occurred to her that they really didn't know anything at all about each other. Nothing. Their match had been made for other reasons. She began to worry her lower lip with her teeth.

Quinton Hunter was equally astounded by the reality that he knew naught about this girl except that she was rich. And, of course, there was the gossip about her mother. "Seventeen is a fine age to become a wife," he said slowly. "I was thirty-one this April third past, Allegra. I suppose that seems very old for you."

"You are not as old as my father," she replied frankly. "I think a husband should be older than a wife."

He laughed aloud, and she saw a flash of white teeth. "I suppose I deserved that," he responded.

"You are even more handsome when you laugh," Allegra noted.

"So you think me handsome, do you?" He chuckled. "You are very beautiful, but then, of course, you know that. Beautiful and rich were all the congratulations I heard last night."

"The women were confined to: 'A duke! A duke, my dear!'" She laughed. "Please tell me we do not have to live in London, my lord. I really do not enjoy this world that is so regulated and rigid. At least in the country we will be accepted as a plain married couple, and not some rule by which all other heiresses and poor, but noble gentlemen are to be judged by in future seasons."

"I thought you wished to take your revenge, Allegra. You must become a famous hostess giving outrageous balls, and other entertainments. You must run up enormous debts in the best gambling halls like the Duchess of Devonshire. You must set the fashion. You cannot do it by living an anonymous existence in the country."

"No, thank you," Allegra said. "I shall have my own back in the next few weeks on the silly chits who have snubbed me. If the kind of lady you describe is the kind of lady you want to wed, then I am not that lady, my lord. I am appalled at the amount of money my papa has expended in just this one season on Sirena and me. Our weddings will cost a fortune. Invested, that money would have yielded a handsome profit. Now it is all gone. As for gambling, I am as opposed to it as are you. Another waste of both time and good coin."

"How do you invest your monies?" he asked her, curious.

"In foreign trade mostly," Allegra told him. "I also own a little spinning mill in Yorkshire that makes thread, and interest in several wagon way routes. I have the controlling interest in one route that is entirely built with cast iron rails."

"It is amazing that a young girl as yourself should find interest in such matters," the duke remarked. "Most girls spend their time at less rigorous pursuits."

"Why?" Allegra demanded. "Women have intellects as well as men. If they are educated, they are capable of almost anything," she told him. "Education is the key to everything. I intend to see that our daughters, as well as our sons, are educated to the utmost."

"You say women are capable of almost anything," he replied.

"I don't think I should like to be a member of the local fire brigade," Allegra answered him with a chuckle.

The duke's borrowed landau had now turned into the park where they joined the throng of other carriages parading through the greensward this June afternoon. There were also a number of ladies and gentlemen riding upon beautiful horses. Allegra leaned back and feigned boredom. There was that appalling Lady Hackney and her buck-toothed daughter, Lavinia. She ignored their desperate attempts to catch her eye.

"Nicely done," the duke murmured. He reached for her little hand, and raising it to his lips, kissed it as another carriage carrying the Countess of Brotherton and her daughter passed by. The Brotherton girl's dowry had been generous, but not showy. Her mama had made a great point of seeing her darling daughter was allowed nowhere near the poverty-stricken Duke of Sedgwick. He had found himself greatly offended even though he knew better. The girl would have to come back next season as she had failed in the husband hunt this year. And her papa would have to increase her dowry, for she wasn't the prettiest of creatures.

"Sedgwick!" A voice familiar to them both pierced the air. "Stop at once! I want to join you!" Lady Bellingham's small carriage drew up next to theirs, and its occupant, with help, transferred herself from it to the duke's landau, giving her coachmen instructions to follow behind.

"Good afternoon, Aunt," Quinton Hunter said. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

"Good afternoon, Lady Bellingham," Allegra said. Aunt?

"Your fiancé's mama and I were first cousins," Lady Bellingham explained. "Now, when is the wedding to be, my dears?"

"Madame, we have not yet had time to consider a date," Allegra said.

"Why not?" demanded Lady Bellingham.

"This is the first time we have been alone together, Aunt, since last night's festivities and announcement," the duke spoke up.

"Well, you had best proclaim a date within the week, or else the gossips will be saying that one of you has cried off. I shall not have the match of the decade ruined by idle gossip!" Lady Bellingham said.

"It will be sometime in the autumn," Allegra responded. "I plan to spend the summer at Hunter's Lair overseeing the renovations needed. Papa is sending an architect down next week."

"You are not being married before the season ends? You are not being married in London?" Lady Bellingham was shocked.

"There isn't enough time," Allegra explained.

"No," the older woman said thoughtfully. "I suppose there really isn't, for your wedding must be a glorious and most fashionable event, my dears. Still, Allegra, you cannot marry the Duke of Sedgwick in a country church. You must come back to London for your wedding. The king and the queen will expect to attend, as will Prinny. Please remember Quintan's bloodline, Allegra. You shall be wed on October fifth at St. George's in Hanover Square," she decided for them. "I shall speak to the rector myself this very day." Lady Bellingham smiled. "There, now it is all settled." She waved at her coachman, and said, "Sedgwick, tell your man to pull over. I am disembarking now into my own vehicle."

"October is a beautiful month," Allegra said slowly when Lady Bellingham had left them alone again. "Our little church at Morgan Court is especially lovely then." She sighed. "But your aunt is right, my lord. Your family is of great importance. We should be married in London."

He was touched by her care of him, and found himself saying, "If you truly wish to be married in your own country church, Allegra, then that is where we will wed."

"No, it shall be as Lady Bellingham has decreed, my lord. I will not have it said that Lord Morgan's daughter had no care for her husband's family reputation. We shall marry with pomp, and only the crème de la crème among the ten thousand shall be invited. Papa's secretary, Charles Trent, will decide along with my aunt. Those who are not included will prefer to be out of town that day." She chuckled. "It shall, however, be the last time we are seen in London for quite some while. We have a duty to perform. Our nursery must be filled as promptly as is possible."