The Earl of Pickford arrived in London several days before the wedding to meet his prospective daughter-in-law. He was a slender gentleman with a headful of snow-white hair, and bright blue eyes that his eldest son had inherited. He was immediately taken by the sweet and gentle Lady Sirena Abbott. He had known her breeding, of course, for his son had asked his permission of his father before tendering a proposal. But far too often these overbred girls made bad wives. This girl, he quickly saw, loved his son. Not only that, she had character and manners. He was now twice as pleased as he had been earlier.
“After your wedding trip, you’ll come home to Pickford?” the earl asked Ocky. “Sirena will want to see what you will inherit one day. She must grow familiar with her new home. You will be a most welcome addition to the family, my dear,” he told her.
“Oh, thank you, my lord,” Sirena answered him. Then she shyly kissed his cheek.
The season was winding down. Most of the young women who had not found husbands, or who were planning summer weddings, had left London with their families. Sirena’s wedding day was upon them. Allegra’s childhood friend, Rupert Tanner, had withdrawn several days earlier to return home. The duke had been invited to stay at Lord Morgan’s house until he departed London in a few days’ time.
They awoke to a perfect June morning. The sky was a vivid blue with not a cloud in it. The sun shone brightly. In Lord Morgan’s garden the Damascus roses bloomed in profusion, and perfumed the air. The servants hurried upstairs with trays for the bedchambers, for the dining room was being prepared for the wedding breakfast after the ten o’clock ceremony.
Sirena could scarce contain her excitement. She was a very beautiful bride in an elegantly simple gown of ivory striped silk with a scooped neckline and little puffed sleeves. The gown was tied beneath the waist with a silver ribbon, and there were tiny silver bows on each sleeve as well as at the tips of her shoes. A delicate lace shawl was draped about her shoulders. Her golden blond hair was affixed into a chignon at the nape of her neck, two ringlets falling to her right. Upon her head was another swath of lace that fell to the floor and was affixed with a small wreath of white roses.
“You are the perfect bride,” Allegra told her cousin. “I have never seen you look so gorgeous, Sirena.”
Lady Abbott began to sniffle softly. “She is right. I cannot believe that my baby is getting married. If only your papa were here to see it, my darling. He would be so proud at how well you have done.” Then she turned to her niece. “You are lovely, too, Allegra.”
“Thank you, Aunt. Now tell us before we go down to meet the others. When are you going to reveal your little secret?” Allegra said.
“Your papa and I shall make our announcement as the wedding breakfast comes to a close,” Lady Abbott answered.
“From that moment on I shall refer to you as Aunt Mama,” Allegra said with a smile.
“You are truly content that I will marry your papa, my dear?” Lady Abbott said. She could still not believe her good fortune.
“Aunt, you have been the mother I never remember having,” Allegra said generously. “I welcome you with all my heart!” Then she kissed Lady Abbott on both cheeks, giving her a warm hug as she did so.
There was a knock upon the door, and Lord Morgan popped his head in saying, “My dears, it is time we left for the church. You surely do not want to frighten your bridegroom, Sirena, by being late.”
St. George’s on Hanover Square wasn’t a great distance from Lord Morgan’s house on Berkley Square. They rode in an open carriage, meeting Sirena’s elder brother at the church. The Marquis of Rowley would give his sister away. His wife was already seated in the first pew as Lord Morgan escorted Lady Abbott into the building. The older woman glared at the younger until she gave way, moving down the pew to allow the bride’s mother and Lord Morgan to be seated.
On the other side of the aisle were the groom’s father, the widowed Earl of Pickford, with his sister, Lady Carstairs, and her husband. Behind them sat the two younger Carstairs, Ocky’s first cousins, the Earl of Aston, Lord Walworth, with their own betrothed wives. In the third pew on the groom’s side sat his longtime valet, Wiggins. In the second pew on the bride’s side sat Lord and Lady Bellingham with Charles Trent, and behind them the two serving women, Damaris and Honor.
St. George’s was the most fashionable church in the city in which to be wed. It was not one of London’s ancient churches, having been built between the years 1721 and 1724. Its beautiful and graceful portico with its six soaring pillars was the first ever built for a London church. There were elegant cast iron dogs flanking the main door. The east window of the church contained sixteenth-century stained glass rescued from a church destroyed during the Civil War in England, almost one hundred and fifty years earlier. The altar painting had been fashioned by Sir James Thornhill, and was entitled The Last Supper.
To the soft strains of a Bach melody Allegra walked up the church’s main aisle, a nosegay of white roses and purple stock in her gloved hands. Behind her she could hear Sirena and her brother coming along. At the altar Viscount Pickford stood with the Duke of Sedgwick, who was to be his witness. The rector of the church smiled perfunctorily as the young couple came before him. He had already performed fourteen weddings this month and had another twenty-five to celebrate before June was out. It was his busiest time in a successful season.
“Dearly beloved,” he began.
Allegra looked about her discreetly. It was a beautiful church, but she regretted that she could not be wed in her own church come October. She listened intently to the service. With my body I thee worship. A delicate blush suffused her features as she remembered Quinton’s kisses the night of her ball. They had not kissed since. How did a man worship you with his body, she wondered? Then she was drawn back from her thoughts as Sirena pushed her own bouquet of white roses, green ivy, and silver ribbons at Allegra to hold while she knelt at the altar rail.
Allegra put her own thoughts aside, and concentrated on the wedding ceremony. When the church’s rector pronounced her cousin and Viscount Pickford man and wife she blushed again as the bride and groom kissed most enthusiastically before their guests. Her eyes met those of Quinton Hunter. His demeanor was serious, and to her relief not teasing. Would he kiss her as warmly once they were wed?
Sirena and Ocky hurried from the church. They were both laughing happily, and had eyes only for each other. The duke tucked Allegra’s hand into his arm, and escorted her down the steps. The bride and groom were already driving off. The twenty guests followed behind them back to Lord Morgan’s house in their own coaches and carriages where the wedding breakfast was awaiting them.
Lord Morgan’s French chef had prepared a delicious meal which the servants passed around the dining table. There were eggs, poached in heavy cream, and fine Madeira sherry. There were pink country ham, rashers of bacon, a platter of lamb chops, and one of poached salmon in a dill sauce with carved lemons decorating its silver server. There were freshly baked breads, and little rolls with sesamed tops. There were several cheeses: a wheel of Brie from France, another wheel of sharp English Cheddar, and a nutty flavored cheese imported from Switzerland, which Allegra particularly favored, that had holes in it. There was a bowl filled with fresh fruit: sectioned oranges from Spain, slices of pineapple and yellow banana. There was a crystal bowl of fresh strawberries, and next to it a dish of heavy, clotted cream. A delicate wine was served throughout the meal until the bride’s cake with its spun sugar icing and decorations was brought forth. Then the champagne was brought out, and several toasts were drunk to Sirena and Ocky.
The bride shortly afterward slipped from the dining room, followed by her cousin. Upstairs her maid, Damaris, was waiting to help her from her wedding clothes, and into her traveling outfit, although Sirena was traveling no farther than her father-in-law’s town house today.
“Mama and Uncle have not yet announced their surprise,” Sirena said to her cousin. “You don’t think they have changed t
heir minds?”
Allegra shook her head. “Papa said they would make the announcement before you leave.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on Charlotte’s face,” Sirena replied with a giggle. “She will be torn between relief and horror that Mama should remarry at her time of life, which is how she will put it, I am quite certain.”
“How old is Aunt Mama?” Allegra asked her cousin.
“She is surely past forty,” Sirena said. “She married Papa at fifteen, and had my brother when she was sixteen. Gussie is twenty-five, I know, so Mama must be past forty.”
“She is forty-one,” Allegra said with a smile. Sirena had never been particularly good with her sums.
“There, my ladies, you’re ready,” Damaris said to her mistress. Then she began to weep. “I can’t believe yer a married woman,” she sniffled, wiping her eyes with her apron. “It just seems like yesterday you come out of the nursery a young lass put in my care.”
“Now, Damaris.” Sirena hugged her maid. “You’ll still be with me, and I’ve seen the looks you and Ocky’s valet have been giving each other. You’ll soon be a married lady yourself, and what shall I ever do if you leave me?”
“No man could take me away from you, my lady!” Damaris declared stoutly. “Now, you and Miss Allegra run back downstairs to yer guests. I’ll be waiting for you at Pickford House.” She curtsied.
Sirena, looking enchanting in a white muslin gown decorated with pink silk ribbons and a charming straw bonnet, also with pink ribbons, set over her blond curls, gave her maid a smile. Then hand in hand with Allegra she descended the stairs of the house into its circular central foyer where her husband and her guests were assembled waiting for her. She went immediately to her mother and her uncle.
Hugging them Sirena whispered, “Tell them now, please.”
Putting his arm about both Allegra and Sirena, Lord Morgan said in a loud voice, “This has been a most wonderful day for us all. I have seen my dearest niece successfully married off. My beloved daughter will marry her duke on October fifth. Tomorrow, however, shall be an equally happy day, for tomorrow I will marry the woman who has done me the honor of agreeing to become my wife, Lady Olympia Abbott. As you have all wished Sirena and Ocky happy, I hope you will wish us the same as well,” Lord Morgan concluded.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the Marquess of Rowley said, totally and utterly surprised by his uncle’s declaration. Then he reached out, and shook Lord Morgan’s hand. “You have my blessing, sir, although you certainly don’t need it.” Grinning, he kissed his mother heartily. “And you, madame, have my best wishes. Just when I thought you could no longer surprise me, Mama, you have gone and done it.”
“Then you do not mind, Gussie?” she said, a trifle nervously.
“No, Mama, I do not mind in the least,” he responded, smiling even more broadly.
The other guests crowded about the couple offering their congratulations and good wishes. It was at that very moment in the crush that Sirena and Viscount Pickford chose to make their escape. Hand in hand, they left through the open door of the house, down the marble steps, and into their carriage. When their absence was finally realized, there was much good-natured laughter, and the guests were invited into the main salon of the house to partake of another champagne toast, this one to the next soon-to-be-married pair.
“And another family wedding tomorrow!” Lady Bellingham exclaimed. “My dear Olympia, what a naughty puss you have been keeping such a wonderful secret.” She tapped Lady Abbott with her fan, giving her an arch look. “Of course it is the perfect match for you. I imagine your son and daughter-in-law are delighted for you.” She turned her gaze to Allegra. “And you, miss, what think you of this turn of events?”
“Sirena and I have been trying to get Papa and Aunt Mama together ever since she came out of mourning,” Allegra announced candidly.
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Have you indeed, my gel? Well, good for you!” Lady Bellingham said. “Not a selfish bone in her body, Quinton. You have chosen a fine gel to wife. I shall certainly look forward to returning to London in the autumn for your wedding. Even Bellingham has agreed to give up a few days of his hunting for such an event, haven’t you, husband?”
“Indeed, yes, m’dear,” Lord Bellingham agreed with a broad wink at the assembled company. “If it pleases you, it pleases me.” He took a long sip of his champagne.
“Well I for one am completely astounded that dear Mama would marry again at her time of life,” Charlotte said. “Gussie and I have suddenly become quite bereft of family, I fear.” She sipped her champagne.
Allegra giggled behind her hand, but when Charlotte glared at her she said bluntly, “Sirena said you would say that, madame. As for being bereft, I suspect you are more relieved to have Aunt Mama and my cousin gone from Rowley. You will have Gussie all to yourself now.” She smiled sweetly at the Marchioness of Rowley.
“Allegra,” her cousin the marquess said chidingly, but his mouth twitched with amusement. “You must behave yourself, and practice more tact now that you are to become a duchess.”
“Oh, Gussie, I fear I shall never become that proper, and poor Quinton knows it. Do you not, my lord?” She looked to him.
“It will take time, I see, but I believe that eventually I can persuade Allegra to the advantages of diplomacy, sir,” he said to the Marquess of Rowley.
“That will be a battle worth observing,” Lady Bellingham murmured softly, and her husband chuckled at her words.
The remainder of the guests made their farewells. It had been a most satisfying and exciting morning to have been party to, and privy to, they all agreed. The Earl of Aston and Lord Walworth had both asked the duke to stand up with them during their upcoming nuptials. Now both of their fiancées made certain to speak with Allegra before they left.
“You will come to the wedding with the duke?” both young ladies asked. “Mama will see you receive an invitation.”
“I shall be pleased to accept,” Allegra responded as she waved them both off. How odd to have friends who were girls, she thought. The only girl who had ever been her friend was Sirena. What was more, she liked Lady Eunice Tarleton and Caroline Bellingham. I really am growing up, she considered to herself.
“We will take the air in the garden,” the duke said. They were now alone. Her father and Lady Abbott had disappeared.
Allegra slipped her hand through his arm. “The poor old house feels quite sad,” she sagely noted. “Everything is coming to an end. The season is over. Sirena and Ocky are married. Our friends are all gone from London. Nothing will ever be the same again, will it?”
“No,” he agreed, “but that is life, Allegra. The world changes about us constantly for good, or for ill.”
They moved out into the garden. The afternoon was warm for June. The roses perfumed the air, and there was barely the hint of a breeze.
“Perhaps the world does change with each passing minute,” Allegra said, “but I have never before felt it as strongly as I do today.” She sighed a long, and wistful sigh. “My life has, despite my mother’s absence, charted a steady course, and has not deviated. I was raised and educated at Morgan Court. My best, my only friend until a few months ago, was my cousin, Sirena. The years have been a round of passing seasons marked by holidays, family, and schooling. It has always been the same.”
“What of your brother?” he asked her. She had never really spoken of her elder sibling.
A look of sorrow passed over Allegra’s beautiful face. “Ahh, yes,” she said. “My world did change then, didn’t it? I had put it from my mind for it is too painful to speak on, Quinton.”
“What happened?” he gently probed as he drew her down in the shade of an apple tree to a marble bench. “I only know that he is dead.”
“James Lucian—we never for some reason called him anything other than his whole name—died in France. He was affianced to the daughter of the Comte d’Aumont. Because of the political situation it was decided he would marry imme
diately and bring his bride back to England,” Allegra explained. “While he was there the family was arrested, betrayed by someone before James Lucian could wed his sweetheart. He would not leave Célestine. The authorities, if you can call that rabble in France by such a name, offered my brother his freedom as he stood upon the scaffold with her. She begged him to go, but he would not. James Lucian, it was said, knelt before his affianced, speaking gently to her of their eternal life together even as the guillotine fell. Her head rolled into the basket before him; and he was spattered with her blood. He then arose, and without assistance, knelt for his own execution.” Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
Shocked by her recitation the duke said, “He was a very brave man, your brother.” His arm went about her to comfort her.
Allegra shook off the arm. “My brother was a fool!” she cried, and now the tears ran down her face. “He wasted his life for what? For love! You say, my lord, that you shall never love me, for you would not commit the mistakes of your antecedents. Well, I shall not love you either, for love brings nothing to anyone but pain. But we shall have a good marriage for it shall be based upon sensible principles. Respect for one another and enough wealth to sustain us. And whatever love either of us can muster we shall lavish upon our children. The love of a parent for its child seems to be the only love that does not hurt.”
He wiped her tears away with his own linen handkerchief, but said nothing more. What could he possibly say that would comfort her? It was obvious that she had loved her brother greatly, and his death, three years before, had hurt her terribly. Finally he spoke. “Is the loss of your brother the reason you learned how to manage your own funds?”
“Oh, no,” Allegra told him. “I have been interested in Papa’s businesses ever since I was a little girl. James Lucian and I used to compete to see who could manage the most successful ventures. We were fairly evenly matched, although I think I probably had the cooler head. My brother always allowed his emotions to carry him away. To his own detriment in the end,” she finished.
The Duchess Page 11
