***

In the morning Trahern arrived as he had promised to take Aurora to Mr. Dove's shop for her cards. She had breakfasted with her husband, who had then gone off for a ride in the park. She had had to decline his invitation to accompany him, knowing Charles Trahern would fuss at her if she did not go with him to Mr. Dove's. The elegant little establishment in St. James's was a revelation to her. Under Lord Trahern's watchful eye she ordered ivory vellum cards with the Farminster ducal monogram, and her title, The Duchess of Farminster, in elegant black calligraphic script. Enthusiastically she added cards for Valerian, and notepaper with her monogram as well, telling Mr. Dove to deliver her purchases to Farminster House as soon as possible.

"Within the week, your grace," Mr. Dove said, bowing low.

"I should hope so," Trahern interjected. "Her grace cannot make any calls without her cards, and lives too far from London to send back for them. Her foolish undermaid did not pack her ladyship's writing box. A country girl, y'know," he concluded with a broad wink at the stationer. "Eager, but not quite bright." He tapped the side of his head with his finger knowingly.

"I shall have at least three dozen cards for your ladyship by tomorrow morning," Mr. Dove responded with a smile. "You cannot be unavailable to your friends at the height of the season, your grace. Why, such a thing is utterly unthinkable." He bowed again.

Aurora nodded graciously, and taking Trahern's arm, departed the shop. "Thank you, Trahern," she said, her eyes twinkling at him.

"You picked up my direction quite quickly, mon ange," he told her, thinking that while she was quite lovely, she was not the beauty Calandra was with her ivory skin and black hair. Calandra, of whom he had had such high hopes, and who had been so generous with her purse when he had lost at the cards, which was more frequently than not. Cool and elegant Calandra. Had Valerian Hawkesworth really done all he could to save her life, or had his desire for Aurora overpowered him? Especially when he learned that she was the true heiress of St. Timothy and not beauteous Calandra. There had been a doctor, and yet she still had died. It seemed very odd to him, but he was certain that Calandra should not have died.

"Trahern, you have quite gone away," Aurora said.

Remembering himself, he helped her into her carriage, saying, "I was contemplating if you had ordered enough stationery, but I believe that you have. After all, you will not be remaining in London for very long. Too soon, mon ange, you will hurry back to the bucolic pleasures of your Hawkes Hill, will you not? You and your farmer duke, although I will admit that your husband is not a bad fellow."

"How kind of you, Trahern," Aurora teased him. "I shall certainly remember to tell Valerian that you said so. As for my notepaper, I can use it in the country too. In fact, from now on I shall order all my paper goods and cards from Mr. Dove. After all, you have assured me his is the most fashionable stationer's shop in London."

"Mon ange, I am beginning to have hope for you," Lord Trahern responded with a chuckle. "I do believe you are showing promise."

"Take me home, Trahern," she said. "Valerian will be back from his ride in the park and wonder why a little shopping is taking so long. He is quite jealous, you know."

"Then I shall invite him to lunch with me at Boodles and assure him that I look on you as your dear brother, George, would," Lord Trahern answered her. "Did he ever find a bride, by the way?"

"Indeed he did," Aurora said, and filled Lord Trahern in as the coach made its way along the streets of London.

"A parson's daughter," Trahern laughed. "Well, if her bloodlines are as good as you say, I suppose a country girl would be better suited to life on a Caribbean plantation than one of those city misses who dangled themselves before George last season."

"Betsy will make my brother a perfect wife," Aurora replied. Then she said, "And what am I to do while you take Valerian off for luncheon, which will certainly end in several hours of cards?"

"Why, mon ange, you must make yourself beautiful for this evening's festivities. The Duchess of Devonshire is having a grand ball, and I know you have been invited. You must promise me a dance. What fun we shall have. And tomorrow afternoon there is a marvelous horse auction at Tattersall's over at Hyde Park Corner. The three of us will go, of course. I know your husband will be most interested."

"And I was worried that I should, perhaps, hire a social secretary. I see now I shall not have to with you about," Aurora teased him, laughing. "It all sounds quite exciting, Trahern, but when does the ton rest itself from all these exertions?"

"Rest? There is plenty of time to rest when one is old, or in the grave, mon ange, but we are all young, and should enjoy life!"

The ducal carriage drew up before Farminster House, and a footman ran out to help Aurora from the vehicle. Trahern bounced out behind her, following her into the house.

"Has the duke returned from his ride?" she asked Manners as he took her fur-trimmed cloak.

"He is in the library, my lady," the butler said. "Shall I tell him you are home?"

"No, I shall tell him myself," Aurora replied. "Please show Lord Trahern into the Morning Room, Manners." She hurried off to the library, slipping through the door with a sigh. "Charles Trahern is absolutely exhausting," she announced to her husband. "It is your turn to amuse him now, Valerian. He wants to take you to lunch at Boodles, and he has invited us to Tattersall's for a horse auction tomorrow afternoon. I shall enjoy that. I have never been to a horse auction."

"Good God!" the duke swore. "He wants to take me to lunch? It will end up on my tab, I assure you, my darling, and not Trahern's. Have you noticed what a sponge he is? I will wager his fascination with Calandra was half the money she put in his pocket. I always thought her constant need for coin odd. She could never manage to live on her allowance, and I was really overgenerous."

"Be kind, my love," Aurora said. "We are so happy, and it is quite obvious poor Trahern is not. He is amusing, and we really know so few people in London."

The duke smiled at her, and coming over to where she was standing, kissed her mouth softly. "You have a good heart," he said, "and to please you I shall trot off to Boodles with Trahern. He will rope me into cards afterward, I warn you. God knows when I shall return home to your loving arms."

"Just in time to dress for the Duchess of Devonshire's ball," she reminded him, laughing. "I know I can trust Trahern to get you home for that, since he is going too."

Valerian Hawkesworth groaned. "I am beaten," he said.

"And if you are very good," she promised him, "we shall end our evening as we did last night." Her aquamarine-blue eyes twinkled at him, and she ran a pink tongue swiftly over her lips.

"We could spend the afternoon that way, and send Trahern on his way right now," he tempted her.

Aurora laughed. "I should be far too exhausted to attend the Duchess of Devonshire's ball if we did, my love."

"Do you really want to go to the ball?" His eyes were dark with his rising passion.

"Yes!" she said, laughing again. "I will not let you make a recluse of me, Valerian. We are in London, and we are going to take advantage of it, because it is very unlikely we shall ever come back once we are home. I really don't like the city, but since I am here, I shall sample the wonderful variety of amusements London has to offer, for until our eldest daughter is ready to make her debut, I see no need to come up to town."

"If we spend the afternoon the way I want to," he said with perfect reason, "we might have that daughter sooner than later."

"We must have a son first," Aurora said. "Now, go and find Trahern. He is in the Morning Room, eagerly awaiting your arrival."

"I have no doubt," the duke responded dryly. He drew her into his arms and nuzzled at the top of her head. "Are you certain that I cannot change your mind, Aurora, my precious?"

"No, I am not certain, so you must leave me immediately," she told him with a smile. "I do not know if Trahern is ready to believe that you would rather rodger your wife than go to Boodles with him. Have we not created enough scandal?"

The duke burst out laughing, and kissing her atop her head again, he said, "Very well, Aurora, for the sake of our reputations I shall go to Boodles with Charles Trahern, but I really would rather remain at home and rodger my wife!"


"Let him win a little bit off you, Valerian. I think his pockets a bit shallow right now," she called after him.

Turning about he grinned. "Of course, my darling. I think Trahern a bit of a doodle, but I am not insensitive to his finances." He blew a kiss to her, and then was gone through the library door.

Chapter 15

"I don't understand why the queen is spending so much time with the Duchess of Farminster," sniffed Lady Jarvis.

"Perhaps because they are both young and newly married," the Duchess of Hamilton suggested. "It is only natural that the queen would want the company of someone her own age, and Aurora Hawkesworth is only a year older than her majesty."

"But she is a colonial," Lady Jarvis replied spitefully.

"It is true that she was not born in England," the duchess responded, but then, neither was the queen. It is another thing that they have in common, becoming used to their new homeland. It helps her majesty to acclimate, and now that she is expecting a child, do we not want her to be especially happy? Come now, Estella, do not be jealous. Lady Hawkesworth will soon be gone, and very unlikely to return to London for some time. She is admittedly a country woman as opposed to a city woman, and does not really enjoy the court."

"Well, it is a fact that the court is duller now than in the old king's time," Lady Jarvis said. "All this high moral tone is irritating, and the strong emphasis on family that the king is promoting is amazing, especially considering his own background. King George I was always at odds with his son, the second George, and the second George was at odds with his eldest son, whom we all called Poor Fred. Both these previous Georges flaunted their German mistresses, but, by God, the court was fun then! I wonder if Poor Fred would have had his ladies, too, had he become king, but alas, he died when his son was thirteen, and now that lad is our king, and a man grown who claims that the family and the land are everything that a good Englishman needs to be happy. Gracious! What sort of thing is that for a king to say?"

"Vhat is dat you say about the king?" young Queen Charlotte said, just catching a vague reference to her husband.

"I was saying that his majesty rightly believes that one's family and one's lands constitute complete happiness, your majesty," Lady Jarvis responded quickly.

"Indeed, yes," the queen replied with a smile, and then she turned to Aurora, who was seated by her side. "You are so fortunate to live in the country, your grace. I love our little house in Kew, but it is said of it dat it is not majestic enough. His majesty is purchasing Buckingham House in Pimlico for us because there have been complaints dat our dear Dutch House is much too simple." She lowered her voice. "I do not like grand houses. You cannot get comfortable in a grand house, and there are too many prying eyes in a grand house. Do you have a grand house?"

"Hawkes Hill is a large home, your majesty, and set most beautifully in its own park and woodlands, but I do not think it palatial, although it is certainly larger than my home on St. Timothy."

"Do you miss St. Timothy?" the queen asked.

"I miss my family, and the sunny, warm days," Aurora said thoughtfully, "but my home is wherever Valerian is now."

The queen nodded, then said shyly, "Do you love him?"

"Yes," Aurora answered simply.

"Good! Dat is very good. I am coming to love my George. He is a fine man, but of course none can know him as I do because he is the king." She sighed. "It is very hard to be a king, you know. Everyone vants your attention, your favor, and for the king to do things their vay." Her blue eyes twinkled, and she gently patted her belly. "Poor little Liebling, this baby of mine. He vill not have an easy life. Do you vant Kinder… children?"