Bertrice Small - The Duchess

"There," Lady Morgan said to her husband. "Did I not tell you we should have told her sooner, Septimius? Now Allegra is upset, and heaven only knows how Sirena will respond when we finally speak to her."

"I will fetch her back," the duke told them. "She has gone out without her cloak."

"No," Lady Morgan said. "I know Allegra better than you, sir, and believe me, this has come as a terrible shock to her. take her home, and let her digest all of our news. Until she can come to terms with herself she will be unhappy. And, Septimius, there will be no renegotiations regarding Allegra's status until after our child is born. Is that understood?"

"Yes, m'dear," Lord Morgan said. Then he turned to his son-in-law. "Go along, Quinton. We will talk again eventually."

The duke found his wife huddled in their coach shivering. He wrapped her fur-lined cape around her, having retrieved it from a footman. "Where are we going?" he asked, his voice laced with humor.

She glared up at him. "How can you jest, sir, in light of this revolting development? There is an inn about two hours away on the road home. It is respectable enough though not grand." Then clutching her cloak about her she turned away from him, and remained silent for the next few hours until they had reached their destination.

Although they had never stayed at the Ducks and Drake, the innkeeper recognized them at once. Bowing, he ushered them into his establishment, apologizing that it was small, and he could but offer them his largest bedroom.

"We are grateful you are able to accommodate us at all," the duke told him graciously. "We will want supper. Do you have a private room where we may dine, sir?"

"Indeed, my lord, I do," the innkeeper assured him, bowing again. "And I have smaller rooms for your servants, too."

"Excellent," the duke said heartily. "Now if you will show us to our private room, we are ready for our supper. It has been a long day, and it is still quite chilly even if it is spring."

"I have some rather good sherry, Your Grace," the innkeeper said. "Shall I bring it?"

The duke nodded with a smile, and then escorted his wife to the little dining room the innkeeper offered them.

Allegra managed to hold her peace as the innkeeper and a maidservant bustled about them, taking her outdoor garment, bringing the sherry, pouring it into small glasses. However, when the door closed behind those offering them service, she burst out, "I cannot believe it! How could they do such a thing? It is so embarrassing that two people their age should have an infant. I realized what they were doing behind those closed doors before we were married, but I never expected that their excesses should lead to a baby!"

"Why not?" her husband asked.

"Why not?" Her voice was close to a shriek. "My father is over fifty. And Aunt Mama is over forty. That is why not. People that age do not have babies, Quinton. My stepmother's last baby was my cousin, Sirena. Heaven only knows what poor Sirena will think when she learns about this. Her own baby's aunt, or uncle, will be younger than her own child. It is obscene!"

"I think it rather romantic," the duke told his wife.

"How you have changed," she said scornfully. "There was a time when you were a practical man, Quinton. Now you consider it romantic that your aged father-in-law and his wife are about to be new parents when we are not. My father does not need an heir. He has one."

"So, that is what troubles you, Allegra," her husband said quietly. "You will have to share your father's wealth with a new sibling."

"Did you not match the bluest blood in England with the richest girl in England, sir? I shall no longer be the richest girl in En gland, Quinton. If my father has another son, we shall be poorer by a considerable amount. You had best pray Aunt Mama whelps another girl. At least then we shall retain half of what we have."

"It doesn't matter," he told her, taking her hands in his. "A year ago I would not have said such a thing to you, nor believed it if anyone had said it to me. I went to London to seek a rich wile. I found her. I did not, however, plan on falling in love with her, yet I did. Hunter's Lair has been restored. Nay, it is better than it ever was, Allegra, and that is thanks to you and your father's generosity. Your father negotiated a fabulous yearly sum upon you and upon me. Neither of us has spent a great deal of those monies for we are both frugal by nature. We could live comfortably for the rest of our lives on what your father has given us this year alone. And what of your investments, my darling duchess? Unless one of us takes to gambling, we shall never be poor, Allegra. Whatever your father decides he wants to give us after this child is born will be suitable. Septimius Morgan is a fair man." Quinton Hunter put his arms about his wife. "I am content with just you, my darling."

"It is not only the wealth involved," she said to him. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to be barren at my age, especially when both my cousins and my stepmother are about to have a child? My wealth is going to be taken away from me, and I cannot even give you an heir, Quinton. It appears to me that you have gotten a bad bargain in me."

"Do you love me?" he asked looking down into her distraught face. "Do you love me, my darling duchess?"

"I do!" she cried. "How can you ever doubt it?"

"Then why do you doubt me, Allegra? I love you, and all your wealth means nothing to me as long as you love me back," he told her. Then he kissed her passionately.

She clung to him, her eyes welling with tears. He was a good man, but she knew he could not possibly really mean what he was saying. He had not yet had time to consider the situation. But, oh, she wanted to believe! They would return to Hunter's Lair, and he would soon see his wife with her pittance as a very bad bargain. Especially if she could not at least keep her end of their marriage bargain and produce a son for him.

He sensed her distress. I low was he to make her believe that he loved her no matter what happened? He sighed, and held her close, his lips brushing the top of her hair.

Their dinner came, but Allegra ate little. She had lost her appetite, and nothing tasted good to her. The duke on the other hand ate heartily of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, salmon broiled with dill sauce, green beans, bread, butter, cheese, and a caramel custard. The innkeeper had a surprisingly good supply of good French Bordeaux, and Quinton Hunter drank three goblets down with his meal.

The next morning they departed early after a hearty country breakfast that Allegra picked at while her husband ate, as she put it, "like a field hand." The innkeeper provided them with a basket for luncheon. They stopped to rest the horses at noon, and by two o'clock were on the road again. At four as they were about to pass by a rather prosperous-looking inn a man ran out and flagged them down.

"Duke of Sedgwick?" he asked.

"I am the Duke of Sedgwick," Quinton Hunter said, sticking his head from the carriage.

"Lord Morgan has sent ahead, Your Grace. We have your accommodations and your own prime cattle waiting in the stables. Lord Morgan asks that his men be allowed to return his horses tomorrow. If you'll turn in, and come this way, my lord." The man swung about, and taking the harnesses of the lead horses escorted the duke's coach into the innyard.

"How thoughtful," Allegra said sourly.

"She's in a right evil mood," Honor murmured softly to Hawkins as they descended the carriage. "I've never seen her this way, and I've been with her since she was a child."

"Spoilt rotten she is," Hawkins pronounced.