The dice were now passed to the contessa, but with a smile site handed them to Allegra. "I will only win," she said shrugging her elegant shoulders.

Allegra began to play, and once again she was overcome with luck. Soon the table at which she played was surrounded by admiring gamblers watching as she won toss after toss of the dice. Finally with a laugh she said, "I must stop. My muff will not hold all my winnings." She handed the dice to the next players, and turned to the contessa. "Shall we have champagne, madame? Brummell, do be a dear and fetch some champagne for the three of us. We shall seat ourselves in the foyer."

They found a quiet corner, and settled themselves upon a satin striped settee.

"Are you always so lucky, Your Grace?" the contessa asked.

"I don't know," Allegra said honestly. "I have, as I said, never spent an evening gambling."

"But you play cards, and you knew how to play Hazard," the contessa noted.

"We all learn to play Whist. Didn't you as a girl? As for Hazard, my friends and I cajoled their husbands into teaching us, but I have never before played for the ready."

"Your husband is not in town?" the contessa inquired of Allegra.

"No," she replied. "He doesn't like London. Quinton is a country gentleman."

"But you do like the city and its highlife?" the contessa pressed. "Ah, I was once like that, too. My first husband was a rather dull fellow, I fear."

"No, no!" Allegra said. "I don't like London at all, but we argued, and so I came up to town. However, after I spoke with my friend, Lady B., I realized how foolish I have been. I will go home in another day, madame."

"Then you love him," the contessa remarked. "One must love truly and passionately to become so angry. I never felt that with my first husband, but with my second it was a different matter altogether." She smiled softly "True love is a precious commodity, Your Grace. Treasure it. You are most fortunate."

"I was certainly lucky tonight," Allegra replied with a grin.

"You have had beginner's luck as they say," the contessa remarked smiling. "Ah, here is your friend with our champagne." She took a goblet from Mr. Brummell, and sipped thirstily. "Delicious! Carlo has exquisite taste in wines."

"Carlo?" Allegra looked puzzled.

"Carlo Bellagio, the proprietor," Mr. Brummell explained.

"Brummell! Brummell! Is that you? Where have you been?" The prince had arrived with his entourage of friends.

"Your Highness," Brummell said, bowing. "I am the Duchess of Sedgwick's cicisbeo this evening."

Allegra stood and curtsied. "Your Highness."

"Thought you went back to the country, duchess," Prinny said.

"I had to come back into town for a few days, Your Highness, and with the Season beginning, how could I resist? Mr. Brummell invited me to come with him tonight. As I have never been in a gambling hell, I decided I would come. You know how Quinton disapproves of gambling," she concluded with a twinkle and a smile.

Prinny chuckled. "Did you lose very much, Duchess? I promise I shall not tell on you should I see the duke," he chortled.

"She won," Brummell said. "It would seem she cannot lose, Your Highness. Damndest thing I have ever seen."

"I am not a great sport, Your Highness," Allegra said. "I came prepared to lose no more than a thousand pounds, but it would seem I have won fourteen thousand pounds."

"Zounds, madame, you are indeed lucky," the prince exclaimed. Then he caught sight of the Contessa di Lince. "Introduce us, Brummell," he said, "Who is this most fetching creature?"

"The Contessa di Lince, Your Highness, a refugee from the armies of France," Brummell said.

"How d'you do, Contessa," Prinny said, kissing her hand.

The contessa curtsied. "I am honored, Your Highness," she said.

"You are English?"

"I married an Italian," the contessa replied.

"Who are your people?" Prinny demanded.

"You would not have known them, sir," the contessa replied. "Do you play Whist? I should be delighted to be your partner. Like the duchess, I do not lose." She smiled seductively at him.

"You'll join us, Duchess?" Prinny said.

"You must excuse me, sir, but I came up to London to see Doctor Bradford. I should not have stayed out quite so late as it is. Will you forgive me?" She smiled winningly.

The prince beamed from ear to ear. "Is it?" he said meaningfully. "Does your husband know, madame?"

"I shall not be certain until I have consulted with Doctor Bradford," Allegra replied, "but should he confirm my suspicions, sir, you will actually be the first to know." She curtsied to him,

"Zounds, madame! I am honored," Prinny said. "Send round to me tomorrow with word."

"I will, Your Highness," Allegra told him. Then she turned to George Brummell. "If you would like to remain, Mr. Brummell, you are free to do so. I shall send my carriage back for you."

"No need, madame, I shall see Brummell safely home," the prince told her, "but he must escort you to the door, of course."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Allegra curtsied again, then turned to the Contessa di Lince. "I doubt we shall meet again, madame, but I thank you for your company this evening."

"Whose daughter are you, my dear?" the contessa said. "All night you have seemed very familiar to me. Your parents have raised you well."

"I am the daughter of Lord Septimius Morgan," Allegra responded. Then she curtsied a final time. "Good night," she said, and taking Mr. Brummell's arm she departed Casa di Fortuna.

Behind her the Contessa di Lince's hand went to her heart. She grew pale for a moment, hut quickly recovered herself. Turning to Prinny she said softly, "She did say Septimius Morgan, sir, did she not? The very rich nabob?"

"The same, madame. It was his wealth that gained the duchess her blue-blooded husband last season, although I understand that it is quite a love match," Prinny responded. Then he smiled toothily at the contessa, and took her arm. "Come, my dear, the tables await us."

"Who is her mother?" the contessa inquired.

"She was born to Lord Morgan's first wife, Lady Pandora Moore, youngest child of the old Duke of Arley A proper trollop that one. The wench ran off with another man when her daughter was two. Lord Morgan only recently remarried," Prinny said.

"To whom?" the contessa asked as she was seated at a newly opened Whist table.

"His widowed sister-in-law of all things. The dowager of Rowley, Lady Olympia Abbott. Helped raised her niece, I am told, and the girl is quite fond of her they say," Prinny replied. "They came up to London last season, Lord Morgan, Lady Abbott, her youngest daughter, Lady Sirena, and Miss Morgan. When it was all over young Lady Abbott had snagged herself Viscount Pickford, and Miss Morgan was to marry the Duke of Sedgwick, which she did in the autumn. But enough gossip, my dear. Let us play cards now." He smiled about the table as two other players joined them, Lord Alvaney, and Brummell.


***

The following morning Doctor Bradford arrived at Berkley Square to examine the Duchess of Sedgwick. When he had completed his task he said to her, "Your Grace is indeed with child. Based upon the information that both you and your maid have given me, I would reckon that your child will be born in late November or early December, madame. Your maid will have her child earlier in the autumn 1 observe from her form now. Is that correct, girl?" he demanded of Honor.

"Yes, sir," she replied in a little voice.

"Thank you, Doctor Bradford," Allegra responded. "I am grateful for your consultation. 1 know how busy a gentleman you are with your fine reputation. Lady Bellingham has spoken highly of you."

"Thank you, madame. You are both strong young women, but it is my considered opinion that you get home as soon as possible, and that neither of you travels again until after your babies are born."

"We shall certainly follow your advice, Doctor Bradford," Allegra said calmly. "Honor, please show the doctor out, and sir, render your bill to my father's secretary, Mr. Charles Trent, here at this house."

The doctor bowed. "Most grateful, Your Grace," he said, and then he followed Honor from the duchess's apartments.

When the maidservant returned and saw the questioning look on her mistress's face, she said quietly, "Well, m'lady, me and Peter Hawkins was to have been married last Sunday."

"Ohh, Honor, why didn't you tell me instead of allowing me to drag you all the way up to London?" Allegra cried. "I should never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"You needed me," Honor said bluntly. "Haven't I always been there for you since you was six? And I certainly wasn't going to tell you in the terrible mood you was in that I was having a baby, too. Not on top of the news you got from your papa, Lady Eunice, and Lady Caroline."

Allegra put her arms about her maid, and hugged her hard. "Oh, Honor, I don't deserve your kindness and your friendship."

"That's what Hawkins says, but he just don't know you like I do," Honor told her mistress with a mischievous twinkle.

Allegra laughed, and then she said, "We will start home tomorrow."

"Before we've been to Vauxhall, m'ladyr1" Honor sounded very disappointed. "We talked about seeing Vauxhall on our travels up from the country. We ain't likely to get back to London any time soon."

"No," Allegra agreed, "that is true. I shall send around to Mr. Brummell, and if he is willing to take us to Vauxhall tonight then we shall return home the day after tomorrow."

Mr. Brummell sent word that both he and Prinny would be delighted to escort Her Grace, and Her Grace's maidservant to Vauxhall that evening. They would come around at four o'clock for tea, and then on to the gardens afterward. Mr. Trent, informed of Her Grace's decisions, quickly dispatched a footman to ride ahead, and make the proper reservations at the best inns for his employer's daughter.

Marker served tea with his staff of footmen as if they did it all the time with the Prince of Wales as the guest of the house. At six o'clock they set off for Vauxhall where, Prinny said, they would meet with the Countess di Lince. Prinny had taken a fancy to the elegant older woman.

Vauxhall was a marvelous pleasure garden that had opened in the year 1661, following King Charles II’s restoration. At first it could only be reached from the water. Located north of Kensington Lane, it now had another entrance in addition to its original entry to the west. The admission was currently two shillings, sixpence. Its popularity had survived for over one hundred thirty-five years because of the ever-changing variety of the exciting programs it offered the public, and of course, its five graveled promenades.

Each walk was tree- and bush-lined. The Grand Walk extended nine hundred feet from the entrance. It was thirty feet wide, and bordered with elm trees. The South Walk ran parallel to it, and was distinguished by three quite realistic archways with paintings of the ruins of the ancient city of Palmyra. Many who saw them believed them to be real. On gala nights the ruins were replaced by a Gothic Temple with an artificial fountain in its center. The South Walk was the same length and width as the Grand Walk.


To the left of the Grand Walk was the Hermit's Walk. On its right was a wilderness; on its left was a rural downs. Also running parallel to the Grand Walk and the South Walk was the Dark, or Lovers' Walk. It was quite narrow, and clandestine lovers were its most frequent guests. And finally crossing the four walks was the fifth, known as the Grand Cross Walk. It cut through the center of the gardens. The portion between the Grand Walk and the South Walk that was bound by it was called The Grove.

It was a most fashionable place in which to promenade, or to meet one's lover. This evening a concert was being held in The Grove, featuring the music of Mr. Handel and Mr. Haydn. Prinny and his party were comfortably ensconced in a supper box, which was next to The Grove. From there they could comfortably listen to the music while they were treated to an outrageously expensive supper of tiny chickens, paper-thin slices of ham and beef, pastry, and wines. The supper box was decorated with paintings by Francis Hayman. In their box the painting visualized a country scene in which simple folk were dancing about a maypole that had been set in the center of a green which was surrounded by picturesque thatched cottages.