"Stop, stop," she said desperately.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because I cannot think clearly when you kiss me, damn you."

"Gracious, you have now taken to swearing," he teased, releasing her from his embrace. "You are not at all the proper girl I married, madame. You have turned into a naughty wench who swears and is deliciously wanton in our bed. I find that I like it, as long as the image you present to the public is one of decorous and cool behavior as befits a Duchess of Sedgwick."

"Damn the Duchess of Sedgwick," Allegra muttered at him. What the hell was the matter with her these days? He was right. She did enjoy their time together in their bed. In fact she was enjoying it more each time they came together which was practically every night. His passion for her was great, and she was astounded at how well he could engage her lust. But it wasn't love, was it?

On the night of their ball he saw her costume for the very first time. It was exactly as she had said, rich and elegant. She wore a white linen gown, a long straight pleated skirt, and a simple sleeveless bodice with a high rounded neck over which she wore a magnificent collar of turquoise, gold, and black beads that lay flat upon her chest.

"My God," he swore softly on seeing the necklace. "They look most authentic." He bent to examine it more closely.

"It is," she said. "One of Papa's clients bought it for me in Egypt several years ago. That is why I wanted to be Cleopatra, so 1 might wear it at long last. I never have before. Can you imagine my appearing in London last season in such a splendid necklace? Do you like the earbobs that go with it?" She shook her head slightly so they would jiggle.

The Duke of Sedgwick was amazed that she could be so casual wearing such a valuable antique. "You are most beautiful, Allegra," he finally said. He liked the full-length cloth of gold cape that she wore with her plain white gown. On her bare feet were golden sandals, and she wore an ornate black and gold wig, topped with a gold circlet from which sprang a golden snake with ruby eyes.

"And you are very handsome as a young Caesar," she returned the compliment. "I am, however, regretting my decision to let you show your knees, sir, for they are most tempting. Perhaps I should have had you outfitted in a long gown worn by the elderly senators of that ancient time. Try not to flaunt yourself too greatly, Quinton. No Duke of Sedgwick has ever done such a thing, and we certainly don't want you to start now."

"I believe the law allows me to beat you, madame, provided the stick is no thicker than my thumb," he growled at her.

"I'd rather you spank me, Quinton," she murmured teasingly to him, kissing his earlobe. "I believe I can be very naughty if you spank me, my lord."

"I am going to forbid Eunice and Caroline in this house," he told her. "They are suggesting wicked notions to you," he said, pretending to be very shocked, but he grinned at her. He damn well knew such proposals came from them, for Sirena and Ocky were too in love to entertain such vagaries of passion.

"We had best go down to dinner. Our houseguests will be waiting for us," Allegra said sweetly, as if nothing at all had occurred between them. She smoothed her skirt.

Viscount Pickford, the Earl of Aston, and Lord Walworth along with their wives were the duke and duchess's houseguests. The earl was dressed as one of his Elizabethan ancestors, in black velvet with a starched white neckruff, and Eunice was a lady of the same period in a black and gold gown. She wore marvelous diamond jewelry. Lord Walworth was an Indian prince in scarlet silk and cloth of gold with a gold turban sporting a large black pearl and several ostrich feathers. But Caroline had chosen to dress herself as a medieval jester in a bright tunic costume of red, blue, and yellow. There were bells on her shoes, and her cap. Her legs were sheathed in red and yellow striped tights, and appeared most shapely. Viscount Pickford made them all laugh in his brown monk's costume, for he said he felt like a monk right now. Sirena blushed as she laughed, teasing him that one could not make a cake without breaking eggs and baking it in the oven. She was garbed in the full blue and silver brocade of a medieval lady, which nicely concealed her delicate condition.

They had barely finished dinner when the guests began arriving. The duke and the duchess hurried to the ballroom to greet them. Most had never been inside Hunter's Lair, and those few who had marveled at its transformation.

"What wonders have been accomplished," a plump gentleman said.

"Money can buy anything," sniffed his wife, her beady eyes darting about.

"Except good taste," drawled another lady, "but it would appear that the duchess has a great deal of that. Everything is exquisite."

The musicians played a minuet as the Duke and Duchess of Sedgwick opened the ball. Familiar country dances followed. Those guests not interested in dancing found the drawing room set up for cards, and the play began in earnest.

Allegra kept a sharp eye out that the candles in the candelabras and sconces did not smoke, but she need not have for Crofts was carefully watching, too. He had been in service in this house for sixty years, but never had he seen a party such as the one being held tonight. He felt his chest swelling with pride. This was the way the Dukes of Sedgwick should have always entertained.

At midnight the masks came off, although everybody had already known who was beneath them. The dining room doors were opened, and the guests trooped into the beautiful room to enjoy the buffet. Long tables covered in fine Irish linen, and filled to overflowing, greeted them. There were two whole sides of beef being carved expertly. There was venison, salmon, trout, raw oysters, and roast geese. There were several turkeys, quail, partridge pies, and rabbit pasties. There were bowls of macaroni and cheddar cheese, potato puffs, potatoes with Hollandaise sauce, green peas, onions in milk and butter with black pepper, baked carrots and apples, green beans, and braised lettuce in white wine. There were six large hams that had been baked with honey, brown sugar, and cloves. There were platters of lobsters and mussels steamed until their shells opened. There were prawns served with a mustard and mayonnaise sauce. The guests didn't know where to begin.

The dessert table was equally resplendent with a dozen Genovese cakes; tarts of lemon, raspberry, and mince; apple, pear, and apricot fritters; several different cheese cakes; both pear and apple tarts; six large caramel custards; tiny pots au chocolat; and at the last moment the servants brought out soufflés of lemon and chocolate. There were also delicate sugar wafers, and decanters of sweet port wine on the dessert table.

"Never seen such an elegant spread hereabouts," Lady Bealle said approvingly. "Most generous. Most hospitable." Lady Bessie Bealle was the local dowager with the most influence in the county. Her favor was eagerly sought by all the hostesses.

"She is surprisingly mannerly, and well-spoken for a young woman of lesser family," the Countess of Whitley noted.

"But of course Sedgwick married her for her money," said Lady Margaret Dursley. "The Hunters are overproud, and have always taken only the best girls for wives."

"The best gels with the smallest, or nonexistent fortunes," Lady Bessie Bealle reminded them. "Poor Sedgwick was down to living in one room if the gossip be true. He could hardly take a respectable wife under such circumstances. And, my dears, he may have married her for her money, but have you noticed how truly attentive he is to his beautiful wife? It's a love match if I ever saw one!

Her companions grudgingly agreed, as about them the other guests ate and drank and gossiped.

Sirena left the ballroom shortly after one o'clock in the morning. "I am constantly exhausted these days," she explained to her cousin. "It has gotten a bit better of late, but I must seek my bed. Do be sure that Ocky behaves himself and doesn't drink too much."

"I will, darling," Allegra said, kissing her cousin on both of her cheeks. "Sweet dreams."

The festivities went on, and while she had to admit that even she was getting tired, Allegra remained the perfect hostess. The musicians played endlessly. The guests danced and gossiped and gambled. By dawn when breakfast was served in the large dining room, over fifty people remained. The duchess, however, bid each and every one of her departing guests a personal farewell, thanking them for coming. She had gained Lady Bealle's approval fully, and that was good enough for the other hostesses in the county. The Duchess of Sedgwick's family might not have been at the top of the tree, but they had raised her to take her place there; and such a position as she now held suited her perfectly.

Finally the last of their guests were waved off on a gray and chilly November first morning. The houseguests had already hurried off to their rooms as the duke escorted his wife upstairs to her apartments. Closing the door behind him he took her in his arms, and kissed her slowly and very sweetly.

"I could not have chosen a better duchess," he told her honestly.

"It did go well," she agreed with a small smile. "The servants must be given their due in all of this, Quinton. They performed their duties admirably." She sighed, and put her head against his chest. "I am exhausted, my lord."

"Honor will help you, my dear," he said, and then kissing her hand he left her to go to his own apartments next door.

"It was grand, your ladyship," Honor said enthusiastically. "I watched from the stairs for a time last night as they came into the house. I have never in all my life seen such beautiful clothes as were worn by your guests. It was a sight out of the stories my old granny used to tell." She took the cloth of gold cape off Allegra's shoulders, laying it aside.

"Some of the costumes were fantastic," Allegra agreed with a smile. "Well, Honor, I have had my baptism of fire as the Duchess of Sedgwick, and I have survived. Old Lady Bealle fully approves or me.

"And well she should," Honor replied loyally as she helped her mistress from the heavy wig, and the rest of her clothing. Then she said, "I know it's late, or rather early, m'lady, but I drew a small bath for you in your dressing room. Will you be taking it?"

Allegra nodded, and walked naked across the bedchamber into her dressing room where her porcelain tub was set up now. Stepping into the lukewarm scented water she sank down and sighed. "Oh, this is wonderful, Honor. You are a clever girl." She did not linger long, however, just long enough to quickly wash. Honor dried her with a large towel, which was a great deal warmer than her tub had been, and slid a soft white cotton night garment over her mistress. Then Allegra climbed gratefully into bed, and was asleep almost instantly. She did not hear her husband come into the room shortly after Honor had left. And she certainly never felt him climb into bed next to her.

When she awoke in midafternoon he was lying next to her, snoring lightly. She rolled onto her side and studied him. They hadn't even been married a full month yet, but there had been no time to really study Quinton Hunter. Yes, he was handsome with his black hair and thick eyelashes that now fanned across his high cheekbones. Those eyelashes were every bit as thick as hers, Allegra thought. His eyebrows were heavy and bushy. He had a long, and what was referred to as an aquiline nose. And his mouth. She sighed softly. It was big, and gave her the most delicious kisses. She considered his chin. It was square, and there was a dimple directly in the center. It was really quite outrageous.

Then suddenly his silvery eyes were staring into her violet ones. Allegra gasped, startled. "You are awake," she said, wondering how long he had been aware of her scrutiny.

He smiled lazily at her. "May I assume that you approve of what you see, madame?" he said.

"What on earth do you mean, Quinton?"

"You were studying me quite closely, madame." He rolled her suddenly onto her back, his hands restraining hers quite effectively. "Admit it, duchess." He gave her a quick kiss.

"Never." She laughed, and then she shrieked. "Sir, you are a randy fellow. Why your manhood is hard as a rock against my leg."

"I have to pee," he announced, releasing her, and then getting up to find the chamber pot. "But when I am finished, Duchess, you have my permission to make me randy," he told her with a wicked grin. Then turning his back he pissed into the flowered china chamber pot, sighing with relief as he pushed it back beneath their bed. He turned about, and advanced upon her once again.