"You are being very good about this," the dowager said to Aurora the evening before their departure.

The younger woman smiled ruefully. "How well you know me, Grandmama," she responded. "Yes, I should rather remain here, but I know if we are to regain our reputations we must go up to London for a time. There were those who knew Cally there, and I shall be nothing but honest with them regarding this startling change of duchesses," she chuckled. "If I am not, we shall just get in deeper."

"Be honest," the dowager agreed, "but clever, my child. You need only say your sister died in childbirth, and that when Valerian learned it was really you he should have wed, he did before you might escape him again. Say it lightly, and make it amusing. There will be those who will be shocked, but mostly society will accept the situation with a wink and a chuckle. They have heard far worse tales, and as long as you and your husband are reconciled to each other, where is the harm? You will be readily accepted, and quite presentable to their majesties. Then, after you have amused yourselves for a few months, return home to us at Hawkes Hill. Certainly a new scandal will have arisen by then to overshadow this one." She kissed Aurora on both of her cheeks. "Oh, I shall miss you, my dear child!"

"Come with us!" Aurora begged her.

The dowager smiled and shook her head. "No," she said. "I must remain here to make things right again for you and my grandson. Besides, I think it is time you had a honeymoon, don't you? Grandmothers do not belong on honeymoons with their grandchildren," she finished with a small chuckle. And the next morning she waved them off with a brave smile, knowing even as she did so how empty and lonely the house would be for the next few months while they were away.

The trip to London was uneventful. The roads remained dry, to everyone's amazement. The inns were comfortable, if dull. Finally the spires and towers of the city could be seen in the yellow-gray haze that hung over London during the cold months, a result of the coal fires burned in each house to keep its inhabitants warm. Finally the carriages and baggage coach turned into Grosvenor Square, moving around to the west side of the common, where Farminster House was located. Almost immediately after they had stopped, the door to the brick mansion was thrown open, and a column of footmen hurried out to aid them in disembarking and to take the baggage.

"Welcome back to London, your grace, and the staff's felicitations on your marriage," Manners, the butler, said, bowing elegantly. "And welcome to her grace as well." He bent himself in Aurora's direction.

"Our thanks," the duke acknowledged with a smile. "Is dinner ready? I think her grace and I should like something to eat, and then to bed. It has been a long day, and our trip was tiring."

"Immediately, my lord," the butler replied. "There are several messages for you that have come in the last day or two."

"And you have seen to my instructions?" the duke asked.

"Of course, my lord," Manners replied in plummy tones that suggested he was slightly offended his master did not understand that an order given was one obeyed. "Shall I bring your grace his messages?"

The duke nodded. "Please," he said, and then turned to Aurora. "I have a surprise for you if you will but wait a moment." Then he turned without waiting for an answer and took the messages from the silver salver the butler proffered. "Bute," he told her, noting the seal on the first missive. He broke the seal, and opening it, scanned the contents quickly. "The earl welcomes us to London and will arrange for us to meet their majesties," he said, laying the note aside and reaching for the next one. "This is addressed to you." He handed it to her.

Aurora snapped the sealing wax on the paper and opened it. "Oh, Lord," she said. "It is from Trahern for Cally. He doesn't know she is deceased and wants to call on her."

"How I wish we could arrange it," Valerian said wickedly.

"What am I to do?" she demanded. "It is not amusing, Valerian!"

"I'll send a footman around to Trahern's lodging to say the Duchess of Farminster will receive him in the morning. It's just the sort of thing Cally would have done. She wouldn't have bothered to write," the duke noted.

"And when he arrives?" Aurora said.

"We will both receive him," her husband replied, "and explain the situation. Trahern will have our arrival trumpeted throughout polite society before tomorrow is out. How the hell did he know we were here anyway?" Valerian wondered. "I must remember to ask him."

"More than likely, one of his servants is friendly with one of the servants in this house," Aurora noted. "Now, what is my surprise?"

He laughed, and kissed her mouth quickly. "You are such a greedy creature," he teased her, and then, turning to the butler, he said, "Send a message to Lord Trahern that we will receive him tomorrow at eleven o'clock in the morning." Then, without waiting for an answer he took his wife by the arm and escorted her upstairs. "Knowing your aversion to your sister's things, I have had the duchess's rooms redone for your arrival," he told her, flinging open the doors to what had been Cally's suite.

Stepping inside, Aurora clapped her hands in delight. It looked nothing like the rooms Cally had commanded. The woodwork was painted in a pale golden-cream color-the moldings, the chair rails, and below the chair rails. Above, the walls were covered in peach-colored silk painted with hummingbirds and butterflies. Only the mural on the ceiling remained the same, but Aurora didn't care. She had always thought the ceiling painting of Venus and her band of cupids charming. The furniture was of polished mahogany, and the upholstered pieces were done in gilt, silks, and velvet. The chandelier, the wall sconces, and the candelabra were all sparkling Waterford crystal. Coral-colored velvet drapes with gold rope tie-backs hung from the windows. The polished wood floors were partly covered with a magnificent Turkey carpet in gold and blue.

Aurora hurried through to her bedchamber and sighed with pleasure. Here the walls were decorated in gold silk with cream and gold butterflies, and cream-colored lilies with their narrow leaves just touched with a grayish green. The woodwork was cream, and the ceiling filled with pink, lavender, and white clouds floating in a blue sky amid a troupe of plump cupids. The draperies at the windows were the blue of a southern sea, their tiebacks heavy gold ropes.

There was a mahogany Chippendale chest of drawers over which hung a carved and gilt Chippendale wall mirror crested with two Argus pheasants. In the curve of the window was a gilt wood settee upholstered in the identical blue as the draperies. The bed, which had been placed opposite the fireplace, was also from Mr. Chippendale's shop. It was richly carved with spiraled urns and acanthus leaf, its border backed by a Chippendale scroll with rosettes, its wooden canopy with a Greek motif, its feet voluminously carved with a wide bracket. The bed furnishings were of cream and gold silk. On both sides of the bed were small mahogany nightstands with silver candlesticks and snuffers. Near the dressing room door stood a mahogany cheval mirror with a delicately cut and etched frieze panel. Attached to the sides of the mirror were two small silver candle holders. Also within the room was a lovely piecrust table, and two wing chairs upholstered in wide cream and sea-blue stripes.

Aurora whirled about and said to her husband, "How on earth did you create such a miracle, Valerian? These are not Cally's rooms at all! Oh, I shall be so happy here!"

"I suspect the paint may still be wet in places," the duke told her with a smile. "When I sent word to Manners that we were coming, I also sent instructions for these rooms to be redone immediately, and all the furniture replaced. I did not want you unhappy, my darling."

"Oh, Valerian, I have been such a fool!" Aurora declared.

"We were both rather foolish," he agreed, "but we are luckier than most, for we have been given a second chance. Let us make the most of it, Aurora. I promise you that our few months of exile will be good months, and then we will go home to Hawkes Hill and live happily ever after."

She threw herself into his arms, pulling his head down to her, kissing his mouth passionately. "I hate traveling," she murmured. "There is never any privacy in those poky little inns with the servants snoring on their trundles, and separate rooms for his grace and her grace. It seems like forever since we've been together." She nibbled upon his earlobe provocatively. "I miss our cuddles." She began to undo the buttons upon his flowered waistcoat.

"Madam, you are showing a complete lack of decorum," he scolded her gently, his fingers undoing the laces upon her gown. "Dinner is almost ready." With a sigh he buried his face in her perfumed cleavage.

"Are you hungry?" she purred back at him.

"Yes," he said, tipping her back onto the bed and falling atop her. He pulled her bodice aside, and his mouth fastened upon a nipple, biting gently upon it, then sucking it. "Mmmmmm," he murmured. "A most delicious hors d'oeuvre, madam. I must have more!" Then he moved to her other breast, licking and nibbling upon it.

There was a discreet cough beyond the bedchamber in the salon, and they heard Sally say, "Manners says that dinner is served, your grace. Shall I tell him you will be coming down?"

"Damnation," growled the duke.

Aurora giggled, her eyes twinkling at his discomfit.

"We will be there directly," Valerian called to the maid.

Sally hurried from the room and down the staircase. "His grace says they're coming down," she informed the butler. Then she lowered her voice. "They were at it again," she confided in him. "Miss Calandra, the old duchess, she weren't much for con… con…"

"Conjugal?" the butler supplied dryly.

"Aye," Sally said, "that's the word I want. Well, she weren't much for conjugal relations with his grace, but Miss Aurora, why, she and him can hardly keep their hands off one another. They're at it all the time, they are. All the servants talked about it at Hawkes Hill. It's practically a scandal, it is!"

"It is hardly a scandal that a man cleaves to his wife, Sally, and at Farminster House we do not gossip about the master and the mistress," the butler said with strong disapproval in his voice. "I am quite surprised that Mr. Peters allowed you such liberties. I will not. Now, go about your duties, girl, and tell Martha that I want to see her when she has finished her duties later this evening."

"Yes, Mr. Manners," Sally said, and darted off. "Old goat," she muttered beneath her breath as she went.

The butler watched her go, thinking, a troublemaker if I ever saw one. I recognized it last time when she was with us. The young duchess doesn't seem the type to keep such a girl on, but then, she did come from St. Timothy, and perhaps the young duchess feels a loyalty to the jade. She will have to mend her ways, she will. Then, hearing footsteps upon the staircase, the butler remembered himself, and greeted the duke and the duchess as they descended. Her grace's hair was just a trifle in disarray, and she was prettily flushed, Manners thought, remembering Sally's words. But the duke looked happier than the butler could ever remember seeing him look, and that was all that mattered.


***

The following morning the butler opened the door at precisely eleven o'clock to find Lord Charles Trahern standing there. Lord Trahern's bobtailed coat and high wig, topped with a small tricorn hat, proclaimed him a macaroni. "Good morning, my lord," Manners said.

"I am calling upon the duchess," Trahern said.

"If you will follow me," the butler replied. He only wished he could see this poppinjay's face when he learned the Duchess of Farminster was not the duchess he was expecting, but he would listen at the door after he had announced Lord Trahern.

"Has her grace produced the desired heir, then?" Trahern asked as they moved toward the morning room.

"Her grace, I regret to say, miscarried of her child," the butler replied coolly.

"And Hawkesworth let her return to London?" Trahern said incredulously. "I suppose he thinks to get on her good side for another try, eh, Manners?"

The butler ignored the crass familiarity with which Lord Trahern was addressing him, as he opened the door to the morning room, and said. "Lord Trahern, my lord, my lady."