Bertrice Small - The Duchess

"Not Papa," was the reply. "Me. My father will tell you I am quite astute at picking my investments."

"And what kind of a return would you expect on such an investment, Miss Morgan?" Madame asked despite the fact her mouth was full of pins.

"I should want thirty percent of your business," Allegra said.

"Sacrebleu, mademoiselle! C'est impossible! C'est fou!" the Frenchwoman cried. Then her eyes narrowed, and she said, "Fifteen percent, mademoiselle."

"Madame, I will not haggle with you," Allegra answered her. "I am young, but I am no fool. Twenty-five percent, and I will accept nothing less. Think, Madame Paul! A man would not put his monies in a dress shop. Only a woman would, and who among the ladies of the ten thousand would make you such an offer as I. I will not tell you how to run your business, or what clients to take, or what fabrics to purchase. I will be a silent partner, contributing only the monies you need to succeed. In return I will receive twenty-five percent of the profits, and Madame Paul, there will be profits."

"You may step down, Miss Morgan, I have finished," the dressmaker said, and then she added, "you drive a hard bargain, but I agree."

"And Mr. Trent will oversee the books," Allegra added.

"Miss Morgan!" The Frenchwoman looked outraged.

Allegra laughed. "Why should you have to bother with the business of your business, madame? You are an artiste."

Now it was Madame Paul who laughed. "And you are a very clever young lady," she replied.

"Where will you go on your wedding trip?" Madame Paul asked Allegra. "Portugal and Italy are beautiful, I am told."

"We have not discussed it," Allegra said. "I am not even certain we will go away. It seems a waste of good coin to me."

Madame was shocked. "Every young lady of your station should have a wedding trip," she said. "Even if it is only to Scotland."

Allegra laughed. "Then I must certainly ask the duke when we meet again what he has planned. Perhaps he wishes to surprise me."

"You will not have the proper clothing if he does that," Madame Paul said, "but then that is just like a man. Give them two pairs of breeches with matching tailcoats, some neckcloths, and they are content. They do not realize what we women go through for the sake of fashion." She helped Allegra from the gown she was fitting. "Send word to me in London when you know your destination. I will see you have the appropriate garments, Miss Morgan."

When the Frenchwoman had returned to London Allegra found that she actually missed her. She had sent Rupert away since he could not behave like a gentleman, and Sirena no longer lived nearby. Her father, for the first time since Allegra could remember, was depending entirely upon his secretary, Charles Trent; occupying himself instead with his new wife. They arose late, and sought their apartment early. They rode out over the estate daily, and as each day went by seemed more involved with one another. Allegra had never felt more bereft in her entire life. The knowledge that they were not doing it deliberately was no comfort at all. Several of their neighbors called with good wishes for the newlyweds, but it was Allegra who accepted them, thanking them, and promising that Lord and Lady Morgan would be entertaining quite shortly. Allegra read. She rode her gelding. She wandered about the gardens. And she was growing very bored.

Hunter's Lair was less than a day's ride from Morgan Court. Finally one clear morning in late June, Allegra mounted her gelding and rode off to find the duke. Only Honor knew where she was going, and she had promised not to tell Lord and Lady Morgan until evening came. Allegra wore her riding skirt, but beneath it she had on a pair of her brother's old breeches which allowed her to ride astride, a posture she found far more comfortable than the sidesaddle ladies were supposed to affect. The upper portion of her body was clad in a white shirt, but she had eschewed her jacket as the day was warm. Her dark hair was pulled back and fashioned into a single braid. She wore no hat.

She had never ridden off of her father's lands alone, and found the idea of being on her own very exciting. After two hours she finally reached the high road. She was just able to make out on the worn wooden sign, the word HEREFORD, and the arrow pointing west. The duke's estate was located just over the border that separated the two counties of Worcester and Hereford. Allegra rode past orchards and fields of ripening grain. The road traveled through pastures of sheep and cattle. There was little traffic but for an occasional farm cart to be passed by. When the sun was at the midheaven she stopped to rest her horse, and to eat the picnic she had brought along for herself.

Refreshed, she had traveled onward. Then finally in late afternoon she saw it. A signpost pointing in several different directions, and indicating several destinations, one of which was Sedgwick village. Allegra turned her horse, wondering as she did so how distant Sedgwick was. She had never ridden so far in all of her life, and she was tired. Worse, her bottom ached from the long ride. Coming to the top of the hill she saw it. Stopping, Allegra could only gaze down with pleasure on her new home.

There was the village. Rows of neat thatched-roof cottages with their colorful gardens, all abloom now. There were orchards of pears and apples just as he had described and fields around them with his fine horses grazing peacefully in the summer sunshine. There, just beyond, was Hunter's Lair, set upon a low rise, the sun setting its windows ablaze with the afternoon light. Allegra kicked her horse into a canter, and hurried down the narrow roadway. She slowed her mount as she passed through the village, pleased to see a fieldstone church, and several small shops. And then she was at the road's end, and the gates of Hunter's Lair were before her-open-and to her eyes welcoming.

She was home at last, Allegra thought as she cantered through the gates. She loved this place already, and she fully sympathized with Quinton's passion to keep his seat from the hands of strangers. Then she saw him, and waving, she brought the gelding to a halt, laughing at the surprised look on his face.

"I got tired of waiting for you," she told him as he lifted her down from her horse. "I am bored senseless at Morgan Court. Papa and Aunt Mama see no one but each other. Sirena is no longer there. I had to send Rupert Tanner packing. I could not wait a moment longer to see Hunter's Lair."

"Does your father know where you are?" was his first question.

"I left a note for Honor to give them when they realize I am not there. Perhaps today. Perhaps tomorrow, the way they are carrying on these days. Gracious, Quinton, love makes one foolish, doesn't it?"

"And you rode all the way from Morgan Court unaccompanied?" was his next stern question. He did not look happy, she realized.

"Of course. Who else would I ride with, Quinton? Have I come at an inopportune moment?" She wondered why he was becoming so upset.

"Are you mad?" he began to shout at her. "You have ridden over twenty miles by yourself, Allegra, and it is God's mercy that you were not accosted upon the road!" His heart was hammering. Was she as reckless as he had once been? But his French adventures were over. He had to be sensible now that he was taking a wife. And he was certain that he didn't resent that fact.

"The road was practically empty, sir. There was no danger that I could see," she told him frostily. "And do not raise your voice to me. I do not like it."

She was here. She was safe. He could not help himself. He burst out laughing. "Allegra! Allegra! Are you always this impetuous? What am I to do with you? I cannot get you back home tonight. Pray God your father does not worry himself sick not knowing if you are alive or waylaid along your route. There are highwaymen plying their trade along the roads, my dear. Did you not consider that?"