Читать книгу Deceived - Bertrice Small - Страница 8

“I have only just heard of your husband’s death, Mistress Kimberly. May I tender my condolences to you and your family?”

“You may, Captain Young,” Oralia Kimberly said quietly. “Tell me, what brings you to St. Timothy? I have not seen you since Robert and I took our last voyage to Jamaica, two, three years ago.”

“Three years,” he reminded her, and then remembering why he was there, he handed her the letter. “I was entrusted with this letter in Plymouth, Mistress Kimberly. It is for your late husband. It has a mighty fancy crest on it, if I might be so bold to say.”

“Why, so it does, Captain Young,” Oralia Kimberly replied, a small smile touching her lips. Barnabas Young was a notorious gossip, but then how else could one learn what was going on in the outside world if it were not for people like him? “I do not recognize the hand,” she said. “I believe I shall save it for Aurora to open, as she is her father’s heiress.”

“I hope he left Missy Calandra and Master George a bit too,” the captain said, fishing none too delicately.

“Oh, indeed he did,” the widow assured him. “Robert was most generous to my children even if they weren’t his own. Why, Calandra is to have five thousand a year, not to mention an outright bequest of a thousand pounds, Captain Young. And, of course, George has done even better, being the young man in the family.” There! Now the old seafaring Yankee gossip would have something to talk about as his ship made its way among the islands. And her children would be known as good marriage prospects. She and Robert had been so content with their family that they hadn’t considered the future. Now, of course, widowed, the children without a fatherly protector, Oralia Kimberly had to think of her two daughters and her son. Of course Aurora wasn’t really her child, but she had raised the little girl since she was barely three and thought of her as her own. She was certainly the only mother Aurora could remember. “Will you stay for dinner, and for the night?” she politely asked the captain.

“Thank ye kindly, Mistress Kimberly,” he replied, “but ’tis not even noon yet. I have several other stops to make before I take on my cargo in Jamaica and head for England. I hope to get several voyages in before your stormy season hits. I’ve delivered your letter, and now I’ll be heading off again.” He tipped his hat to her and made a small bow. “Good day to ye, then, Mistress Kimberly.”

“Good day, Captain Young, and thank you,” she replied. Oralia Kimberly watched as the seaman made his way down the hill road back to the harbor of St. Timothy. She could see his great-masted ship riding at anchor in the bay. She looked again at the letter he had delivered. It was an extremely fancy crest that decorated the missive. Turning the letter over, she inspected the same crest in the sealing wax, and then, breaking the seal, she unfolded the paper. Waiting for Aurora had merely been an excuse to avoid opening the note in Captain Young’s presence. She would have been hard pressed to keep the contents a secret with the nosy sailor standing before her. Her brown eyes scanned the page, and then she gasped. “Gracious! Oh, my!” she exclaimed. Then she sat down and fanned herself with the parchment. “Oh, Robert, why did you not tell me of this?” she said aloud to her dearly departed spouse.

“What, Mama? Are you still scolding Papa? I do not believe he can hear you now.” Her son George gently teased his parent as he entered the airy morning room, removing his broad-brimmed hat, for he had been out in the fields, and the day was already hot.

Oralia Kimberly handed her son the letter.

“Damnation!” George swore softly when he had read it. “Does Aurora know of this, Mama?”

His mother shook her head in the negative. “I remember Robert mentioning to me some years back that he had arranged a marriage for Aurora one day, but he never brought it up again. Quite frankly, it slipped my mind. Ohhh, George! Just think! Aurora is to be a duchess!”

Her son burst out laughing.

“George!” Oralia Kimberly glared at her son.

Stifling his chortles, he replied, “Well, Mama, you must admit it is an interesting concept. You must let me be here when you tell her the news that even as we speak her betrothed husband is on the high seas, prepared to sail into the welcoming anchorage of her innocent, girlish heart.” Then he burst out laughing again, quite unable to restrain himself.

“George,” his mother said, “you are quite impossible! Do you not understand the importance of this? Aurora is to be the Duchess of Farminster. This island is her dowry. What will become of the rest of us, especially of you.”

George Spencer-Kimberly shrugged. “I doubt the duke will dispossess us simply because he gains possession of the island, Mama. I am certain that I will remain on as the plantation’s overseer, and I have the generous bequest that Papa left me, not to mention a yearly income as well. And you will certainly remain. Our about-to-be relation would hardly send his pretty mother-in-law packing.”

“Of course you are correct,” Oralia responded. Then she brightened even more. “And Calandra can go to England with Aurora, be presented to society, and find a titled husband! Of course she cannot seek as high as Aurora’s husband, but a not too wealthy earl would be delighted to have a girl with five thousand a year. I am, of course, furious with Robert, God rest him, for not telling me of this match, but all in all, it is very fortuitous for the entire family, isn’t it, George?”

“Only if Aurora cooperates,” her son replied.

“Why would she not cooperate?” his mother asked. “What girl in her right mind would turn down a duke?”

“Aurora would,” the young man replied, and then sat himself next to his mother. “You and Papa spoiled both the girls, Mama. Cally is charming, but a vain and acquisitive little minx. As for Aurora, she is probably the most headstrong girl in the world. If it is not to her liking, then she will not do it. God help the man who tempts her to the altar, Mama. And she will, I suspect, marry only if it is her idea first. Aurora is not a girl to sit coyly by, waiting for any man.”

“Oh, George, what are we to do?” his mother said, and her eyes filled with anxious tears. “This duke is coming all the way from England to marry your sister. It would be scandalous for her to refuse him under such circumstances, especially after Robert arranged it.”

“Does his letter say upon which vessel he will take his passage?”

“The Royal George,” Oralia answered him. “It was to sail from Plymouth on the tenth of February.”

“It’s an elegant, sleek modern ship,” George noted. “It should be arriving no later than March ninth, provided they do not run into any heavy weather, but coming south at this time of year, it should be smooth sailing for the bulk of the voyage, Mama. It carries little cargo, for it is a passenger vessel. It will probably go on to Barbados, St. Kitts, and Tobago after it stops here for our duke.”

“And how long will this duke stay with us?” Oralia wondered, then answered her own question. “He will probably want to return fairly quickly to England. That means we won’t have long to prepare for the wedding, or to pack Aurora’s trousseau, or Cally’s possessions. Oh! This is simply impossible!”

George grinned. “When do you intend telling Aurora, Mama?”

Oralia’s pretty face grew determined. “Immediately, George! Your sister must be told right away so that she has time to get used to this change in her life. Aurora will be sensible. I know she will be sensible. You are right that she is headstrong, George, but she is an intelligent girl, and logical to a fault. This news will certainly come as a shock, I have no doubt, but when all is said and done, Aurora will see the wisdom in her father’s decision. She will not want to disappoint him, I know, even if Robert is no longer here with us.”

“I can but hope and pray that you are right, Mama,” he replied, but George was not certain at all. Aurora was intelligent, and that, in his opinion, was the problem. A simple, biddable girl would cry a bit upon learning she was to marry a stranger and leave her family. Then she would rally and do her duty. Even Calandra, his younger sister, while hardly simple, would see the advantages to the kind of marriage Aurora was to have. Cally would pounce upon a duke with delight. He did not think Aurora would. No. She would consider the situation, and then decide what was best for her, for the family. Yet, was not this best for her? George considered. He left his mother and hurried off to wash, for it was almost time for the midday meal. In the upstairs hall he ran into Calandra.

“Sally tells me Captain Young was here this morning,” she said to him. “Was he?”

George nodded. “He brought a letter, Cally.”

“From where? England? Who was it from? What did it say?” she demanded of him. Calandra Spencer-Kimberly was a very beautiful girl, and used to getting her own way in most things.

“I have absolutely no idea,” her brother answered her. “I believe Mama intends to tell us later, when we are all together.”

“It must be important, George,” Cally decided.

“Let me go and wash,” he said. “It’s damnably hot out in those fields, and you had best get dressed, or you will miss whatever news Mama has for us, little sister. Where is Aurora?”

“She took Martha and went swimming,” came the reply. “I think it’s shocking that she still swims in the sea, George, and naked too. Only little children should swim naked, for they know no better. I hate swimming! I always felt so sticky after swimming in the sea.”

“You dabbled in the sea,” he teased her. “You never liked it like Aurora and I like it, Cally. Well, if Martha’s with her, they’ll be back in plenty of time for the meal, and Mama’s news.”

The siblings parted, each to their own room, meeting later in the dining room of the house, where their mother and stepsister already awaited them.

“How can you look so cool on such a hot day?” Calandra grumbled, her hazel eyes taking in Aurora’s appearance.

Aurora Kimberly laughed. “Because I’ve spent the morning shamelessly frolicking in the sea, Cally. It’s wonderful, and you should join me instead of lying in bed until almost noon each day.”

“My skin is too delicate to expose to the hot sun,” Calandra replied. “You know I burn like a lobster, Aurora.”

“You don’t have to stay out as long as I do,” her stepsister replied. “Just a quick swim to cool off, and then back into your clothes. You could swim in the afternoon, when the sun isn’t as strong, or in the very early morning just before dawn.”

Now it was Calandra who laughed. “You know I’m no fish like you,” she teased. “Besides, I’d be mortified if anyone saw me. One day some wicked pirate is going to catch a glimpse of you in the sea and carry you off, Aurora. You had best be more careful.”

“No pirate ship could get into my cove,” Aurora said smugly, “and there is no one else about to see me, Cally, isn’t that right, George? George knows my little cove, don’t you?”

“It’s safe enough,” her stepbrother agreed.

They sat down at the beautiful mahogany dining table, Oralia at its head, her son to her right, and her daughters on her left. A servant ladled clear turtle soup into their dishes. Beyond the table the French doors were opened, the light muslin hangings blowing in the trade winds. The sea, calm, and blue-green, spread itself before them.

Calandra gobbled her soup, then said eagerly, “What was in the letter you received from England today, Mama? Who wrote to you?”

Oralia was not surprised by her daughter’s question. Calandra’s servant, Sally, had undoubtedly seen Captain Young arrive. “The letter was not addressed to me, but to your father,” she told her daughter, keeping her voice calm and well modulated. “It seems that Robert made an arrangement with an old friend in England many years ago that his son and Aurora marry one day. The young man is on his way from England now, and will arrive on the Royal George in a few weeks’ time.”

“He’d best not get off the boat,” Aurora said fiercely.

“Aurora, this is no younger son coming to wed you because you are an heiress and he needs a living. This young man is Valerian Hawkesworth, the Duke of Farminster. He is wealthy, and just the sort of man the heiress to a sugar plantation should marry.”

“My God, Aurora!” Calandra’s eyes were wide, and not just a bit envious. “You are going to be a duchess!”

“No, I’m not, Cally,” came the stubborn reply.

“Aurora, I realize this is a shock to you,” her stepmother said. “It was very foolish of your father not tell us of this arrangement at all, particularly before he died so suddenly.”

“Papa’s horse threw him, Mama,” Aurora reminded Oralia. “He could have hardly anticipated that.”

“No,” Oralia responded, “he could not have anticipated it, but the marriage contract says you are to marry when you are seventeen. You will be seventeen on the sixth of April. Robert might have said something. I do not know when he expected to tell you, my dear, but he is gone, and the duke is on his way to St. Timothy expecting to marry you. Now you know, and we will not discuss it again for a few days so that you may get used to the idea of of it all.” She smiled at her children, and then said, “Serve the chicken now, Hermes.”

“I am not going to get used to it, Mama!” Aurora protested. “I have absolutely no intention of marrying an English duke I never met, and probably won’t like anyhow. And I shall have to live in England all the time, and probably go to court to meet that German king. I do not like Germans, Mama. Do you remember that German overseer we once had? He was a horrible man!”

“One cannot judge an entire nation by one man, Aurora. I thought I had taught you better than that. Besides, the king is an old man and will probably not live much longer. His son, Prince George, is said to be kind and lovely. A real Englishman. It will be a young and delightful court that you join, my dear.”

“Not I,” Aurora said ominously.

“We will discuss it in a few days,” Oralia said.

“We will discuss it now, Mama,” came the reply. “I am not going to marry a stranger and go to live a life that I should hate in a wet, cold country I have never even seen.”

“I would,” said Calandra. “To marry a duke, and go to court, I would marry the devil himself! You really are a fool, Aurora. What an opportunity your father has given you, and you are not one bit grateful. If Papa had betrothed me to a duke, I’d wed him in a trice!”

“A stranger, Cally? You would marry some stranger you had never set eyes upon? I think it is you who are the fool!” Aurora said.

“Marriages are always arranged,” Calandra answered her stepsister. “So you have never set eyes upon this man. He cannot, surely, be the beast from some fairy tale! And, remember, he has never laid eyes on you either. I’m certain he is wondering during his long days at sea if you are the sort of girl he really wants for a duchess, but he will do his duty, for his father made this match.”

“He will gain a sugar plantation and this island for his troubles,” Aurora noted.

“And you will gain a duchess’s coronet!” Calandra countered.

“I don’t want it,” Aurora said irritably.

“I wish I had your opportunity, you silly creature,” Calandra snapped at her stepsister. “You really are quite spoiled!”

“Do you want this duke, Cally?” Aurora asked the other girl. “Then have him! You marry this Valerian Hawkesworth!”

“Aurora, that is quite impossible,” her stepmother said.

“Why?” Aurora demanded. She brushed a tendril of hair from her face where it had fallen. “Have you seen this marriage contract that Papa arranged? What exactly does it say, Mama?”

“Say? Why, I have no idea,” Oralia replied.

“George! Go to Papa’s library and look in the strongbox he kept by his desk. I will wager a year’s crop you will find this marriage contract in that box. Bring it here at once,” Aurora commanded her stepbrother. Then she looked directly at her stepmother in a way that discomfited the poor woman. “We will see if there is not some way I cannot wheedle my way out of this situation. Why, the nerve of this duke! He has ignored us all these years, and now, with not so much as a by-your-leave, madam, he announces he is coming to marry me!”

Calandra giggled. “I will wager a year’s crop, if it were mine to wager, that your duke would be horrified to learn what manner of girl you are, Aurora. Men, I am told, do not like forward and fierce women such as yourself. You will have to improve your manners.”

“Hah!” her stepsister responded. “The man who marries me will have to accept me for myself. I will not be molded and posed like some clay figurine. Besides, Cally, how would you know what a man wants in a woman. You haven’t been off St. Timothy since you arrived from Jamaica, when my father and your mother married. You don’t know any more about men than I do!”

“We’re totally backward and gauche, the pair of us,” Calandra lamented. “I don’t know why Papa insisted on making us wait until we were seventeen to have a season in England. Why, he wouldn’t even let us go to Jamaica for a visit. We will seem like savages when we are finally allowed out into polite society.” She pushed her plate away fretfully. “I find I am no longer hungry, Mama.”

George reappeared, clutching a parchment. “You were right,” he said, handing it to Aurora and sitting back down. “It was in Papa’s strongbox just as you said it would be. Hasn’t anyone looked through that box since Papa’s death? It is chock-full of papers.”

Aurora didn’t answer him, instead, opened the missive and read it over carefully. Then, suddenly, a very wide smile brightened her face, and she chuckled wickedly. “Here it is! The answer to my problem, Mama. This contract betroths Charlotte Kimberly to Valerian Hawkesworth. Now, while it is true I was christened Charlotte Aurora, Mama, Calandra was christened Charlotte Calandra. Remember that when you married Papa and came with George and Cally to St. Timothy, it was decided that rather than have two Charlottes, each of us would use our second name to avoid jealousy, or the appearance of favoritism toward either of us. This marriage contract does not say Charlotte Aurora Kimberly. It plainly says only Charlotte Kimberly. So, if Cally wants to marry this duke, she can. He certainly won’t know the difference, having never laid eyes on me in his life.”

“No! No! Aurora! We couldn’t do such a thing,” Oralia protested.

“Why not?” came the quick response.

“Well, for one thing,” her stepmother said with what she hoped was perfect logic, “the duke is expecting to marry the heiress to St. Timothy, and not a girl with a thousand a year, a thousand pounds in gold, and some jewelry. Calandra’s dowry simply wouldn’t be good enough for the Duke of Farminster.”

“Mama,” Aurora countered with equal reason, “if this duke is coming from England to marry Charlotte Kimberly, then it would appear he is a man of principle. If he cannot marry Charlotte Kimberly, I do not believe he will return quietly to England without protest. I am not the attraction for him. How could I be? He knows me not. It is the island and the plantation that hold an appeal for this man, and he will not be satisfied to go home without them. So he must have a Charlotte Kimberly to wife. Cally wants a duke for a husband. I do not know what I want, but I do know I will not be driven to the altar. Cally’s inheritance from Papa shall be mine, and I would have one other thing. I want the Meredith plantation house that belonged to my mother’s family. Cally will then be this duke’s Charlotte Kimberly, and this island and the plantation will be turned over to her husband upon their marriage. Everyone will be happy. The duke will have the island, and Cally will have the duke. It is a perfect answer to our problems.”

“You are so very clever, Aurora,” her stepmother admitted, “but what if the duke learns of your deception? If indeed I would even allow such a thing. Could it not be considered fraud? No! No! I will not permit such dupery. It is dishonest!”

“Then you face the possibility of having the duke demand we turn over St. Timothy’s plantation to him anyhow, and we shall all be dispossessed, homeless, abandoned by all. After all, he is keeping his part of the bargain by coming to marry Charlotte Kimberly. If the bride will not cooperate, do you really expect him to bow, and graciously withdraw, leaving us to our home? Nonsense, Mama! He will be mortally offended. Why, George may even have to fight a duel to death to assuage this duke’s honor. Then the duke will demand reparation for his embarrassment and broken heart. Well, it shall not be my fault. I have offered you a reasonable solution to our problem. Don’t you want Cally to be a duchess? She’ll be a perfect one with her classic features, her marble-white skin, and raven’s-wing hair.”

Oralia Kimberly bit her lower lip in vexation.

George Spencer-Kimberly shook his head in admiration at his stepsister’s devilish cleverness. Then he looked toward Calandra. She was absolutely holding her breath in anticipation.

“Say yes, Mama!” she half whispered, her tone almost desperate.

But Oralia Kimberly held firm. “No,” she said. “I cannot permit such a thing. Be reasonable, Aurora. Your father planned this marriage before your birth. If he were alive, we should not be having this conversation at all. I will discuss it no further.” She arose from the dining table and hurried from the room.

“I want to be a duchess,” Calandra whined.

“You will be,” Aurora assured her stepsister.

“You heard what Mama said,” George reminded them.

“Mama will change her mind, I promise you,” Aurora said with a mischievous grin. “She will have little choice when the duke’s ship sails into the harbor and I am still refusing to marry him. When that moment comes, her resoluteness will collapse entirely, for she will be considering what I have said over these next few weeks, George. No matter how honest and good she is, she cannot help but consider how marvelous Cally will look in a duchess’s jewels; or of how much she will enjoy visiting Jamaica, and boasting of her daughter, the Duchess of Farminster.” Aurora laughed, and then she stood up from the table. “We really must begin considering your wedding gown, Cally.”

Calandra pushed her chair back. “Do you really think we can persuade Mama, Aurora?” She stood.

“You just leave it to me, little sister” was the answer.

“Do not call me little sister! We are both to be seventeen,” Cally protested.

“But my birthday is April sixth, and yours is June first. That makes me the elder by two months,” Aurora teased her stepsister.

“Oh, you!” Calandra giggled. Then she said, “What do you think this duke is like, Aurora?”

“He is undoubtedly most arrogant, and overweening proud” came the reply. “Not once in all my life has he communicated with me, nor, do I believe, did he ever write to Papa.”

“Did you ever consider,” George said quietly, “that perhaps he did not know he was to be married either? There are letters in Papa’s strongbox from a James Hawkesworth. I told you that I don’t believe anyone has looked through that box since Papa died. Certainly Mama didn’t. God only knows what else is there. Shall we go and look?”

“Yes! Yes!” his sisters chorused in unison, and the trio made their way from the dining room to the late Robert Kimberly’s beautiful paneled study.

Settling themselves on the floor, they dragged the box into their midst. Opening it, George Spencer-Kimberly pulled forth a packet of letters tied with hemp twine. Undoing the binding, he opened the first of the letters which was on the bottom, and perused it.

“This is the first letter from James Hawkesworth. He seems to be the Third Duke of Farminster. He writes to tell Papa that his son, Charles, has been drowned with his wife and daughter in a boating accident. His grandson, Valerian, he says, was not with them, and although the boy is devastated by the loss, he will recover. He says he is glad that his son made this match between their families, and that he will make certain that the obligation is honored when little Charlotte is grown. He asks after her.”

“How touching,” Aurora said dryly.

“I think he sounds like a nice old man,” Cally ventured to add.

“So,” her elder sister said, “we know that Valerian Hawkesworth’s parents and sisters are dead, and that he was raised by his grandfather.”

“And grandmother,” George corrected her. “James Hawkesworth mentions his wife. He wrote to Papa twice a year. In June, and in December. From the tone of his letters, Papa obviously wrote him back, passing on news of the family, and how you were growing up, Aurora.”

“Does this old duke ever refer to me as Aurora?” she asked.

“I will have to read through all the letters,” George replied, “but from what I can see, it would appear not.”

“What does he say about the grandson?” Aurora’s aquamarine-blue eyes were thoughtful, and her brow just slightly furrowed.

“Not a great deal. Wait, here is something! It’s in the last letter, which was written June last. There is no December letter.”

“Of course not. The old man obviously died,” Aurora noted. “Well, come, George, and tell us what the June letter says.”

“It is not very long. You know, it would appear that the old duke wrote Papa in his own hand, and did not use a secretary. The writing is quite spidery.”

My dear Robert,

I have not been well these last months. It would seem that passing one’s seventieth birthday takes a toll on the health. From my calculations, it would appear that little Charlotte has celebrated her sixteenth birthday. The contract between our two families calls for the marriage of your daughter and my grandson to be celebrated next year after Charlotte’s seventeenth birthday. Valerian has grown into as fine a man as one could wish. I will tell him soon of the arrangement made between his father and you all those years ago. He will come for your daughter next spring, but we shall have to correspond before that, of course. My good wife sends greetings to you and your family. I remain, as ever, James Hawkesworth, Third Duke of Farminster.

George lay the letter aside and said, “You see, Aurora, your duke knew nothing about this marriage between you. He was as much in the dark as you were.”

“There is no further correspondence?”

“Only the letter Mama received this morning,” George replied.

“Where is it?” Aurora demanded to know.

Calandra jumped up, crying, “Here! On Papa’s desk! Mama has lain it there by force of habit.” Her hazel eyes scanned the missive quickly. Then she read:

“To Robert Kimberly.

It is with grieving heart that I write to tell you of my husband’s passing in early November. His heir, our grandson, Valerian, has assumed his duties as the Fourth Duke of Farminster. I see from James’s correspondence with you that the time approaches for the marriage between your daughter, Charlotte, and Valerian. My grandson will sail February the tenth from Plymouth aboard the Royal George. We look forward to receiving Charlotte into the family, and I will do my best to see she is made comfortable. And please reassure Charlotte that I will personally advise her, and train her in her new duties as Duchess of Farminster. Please know that you and your family will always be welcome at Hawkes Hill Hall. I remain, Mary Rose Hawkesworth, Dowager Duchess of Farminster.

“Oh, my!” Calandra sighed. “Doesn’t it all sound grand? I wonder what a duchess’s duties are, Aurora. Do you think I can do them?”

“Just more manners, I suspect,” Aurora reassured her stepsister, “and you are wonderously clever at learning the civilities, decorums, and etiquette of society, Cally. I cannot be bothered with such folderol.”

George had been going through the previous duke’s correspondence as his sisters spoke. Now he said, “There is no mention of you being called Aurora, my clever little sister. The bride is mentioned only as Charlotte in all the correspondence.”

“But what if Papa referred to her in his letters as Aurora?” Calandra suggested. “What will we do then?”

“Since this duke wasn’t aware of the marriage plans his family made,” Aurora said slowly, “it is unlikely he has ever seen the letters Papa wrote to his grandfather. I question if the old duke even kept the correspondence between them. His lady wife does not seem overly familiar with the situation, I divine.”

“Papa kept the letters he received,” Calandra pointed out.

“Yes,” Aurora agreed, “but it was more in Papa’s interest to keep them in the event the Hawkesworth family attempted to cry off, or conveniently forget the betrothal and marry off their heir to a wealthier heiress. Papa’s letters from the duke would have given him grounds for an action in the courts should he have felt the Kimberly honor besmirched. You know how proud Papa was of the family.”

“We can find no evidence the duke knows he was betrothed to Charlotte Aurora,” George said. “I believe it is worth taking the chance of marrying him to Cally. How can he possibly find out that a switch has been made?”

“And if he does,” Aurora said, “it is to be hoped that by that time he will harbor some tender feeling for Cally, and that she will have borne him an heir. Besides, he will have St. Timothy Plantation. What will he have lost by our little ruse?” She smiled at her stepbrother. “I am so glad you agree with me, George.”

“I do not know if I agree with you at all,” the young man answered her, “but I do know that once you have set your mind to something, Aurora, you will not change it easily, if at all. I think you are being foolish, because I believe you to be frightened of this sudden shift in your life. Papa wanted you to have this marriage, but if you will not have it, then I can do nothing more than attempt to see the family is not endangered by your foolish action. The duke shall have a Charlotte Kimberly to wed even if it is not the correct Charlotte Kimberly.”

“Papa would be very proud of you, George,” Aurora told him. “He always said he wished he were your natural father instead of just your stepfather. He loved you and Cally every bit as much as he loved me. That is why he legally adopted you and gave you his name as well as that of your own dead father. I wish he had left you St. Timothy instead of leaving it to me. Then nothing would have ever changed.”

George reached out and took Aurora’s hand in his. “I might bear Papa’s name, little sister, but I am not of his blood. It was blood that made his decision for him. As you have already said, he was proud of his family. I am well provided for, God knows, and he has requested in his will that the duke continue my tenure as manager and overseer of St. Timothy. I am good at it, Aurora! There is no reason the duke will not honor Papa’s request, and as long as the plantation remains prosperous, he will have no cause for complaint, will he?”

Calandra settled herself back down on the floor with her two siblings, resting her head on her brother’s shoulder. The trio had been together for almost their entire lifetime, and loved one another dearly. If Oralia and Robert Kimberly had worried that their children would not get on, it was a notion dismissed in the first few minutes of their meeting, when Aurora had struggled from her nanny’s arms and run down the dock to welcome her new stepmother and siblings to St. Timothy. It seemed to those watching that the child was greeting her natural mother, brother, and sister, who had been away but a time. There had never been any jealousy between any of them.

“Then we are agreed,” Aurora said. “Cally will marry the duke, bringing with her the plantation as a dowry. I will have Cally’s portion from Papa, and my mother’s family home. And George will have what Papa left him, and remain as manager.”

“You are absolutely certain this is what you want?” George questioned her. “Once Cally has been introduced to the duke as his bride, there can be no going back, Aurora. You do understand that?”

She nodded. “I want to marry a man who loves me, George, not a man who is obligated to marry me. I know there are some who would think me a fool for it, but I do not care. I will go to England with Cally and the duke and see if I can find a gentleman who will love me. If I do not, then I shall return to St. Timothy to my own home.”

“Very well, then,” George Spencer-Kimberly said. “Then it is indeed agreed between us that this is the course of action we shall take. I hope that the duke never finds out our little ruse.”

“What of Mama?” Cally said. “She says she will not cooperate.”

“Aurora is right,” George replied. “When the duke’s vessel sails into the harbor, Mama will have no choice but to go along with us. If she does not, she risks everything. I do not like making her unhappy, but if Aurora will not have her duke, then this is the best direction for us to take if we are to preserve the family.”

The brother and his two sisters joined hands.

“Together,” said George.

“Forever,” said Cally.

“As one!” Aurora responded, finishing the pledge of allegiance they had made up as children and repeated whenever they did something together that they considered important.

“Then it is settled,” Cally said, her eyes sparkling.

“Yes,” Aurora agreed.

“And you shall be the duke’s duchess,” George chuckled. “What a treat London society has in store for it.”

“I shall be a wonderful duchess,” Cally told him. “I shall have all the beautiful gowns I want! And jewelry! And I shall dance till dawn every night with all the handsome gentlemen!”

“First, however,” her brother reminded her, “you will have to produce an heir for the duke. That will be your primary duty. It is your insurance should Valerian Hawkesworth ever find out you are not who you should be, little sister.”

“Fiddlesticks, George! It will make no difference if he finds out one day. He will have St. Timothy anyway. There is plenty of time for babies, and being stuck in some country mansion just as isolated as our island home is not my idea of being a grand duchess. Any woman can have babies! I want to go to London and see the king! Do not distress yourselves. I shall make my duke fall madly in love with me. Then he will allow me to do whatever I want, for he will desire to please me at all times else I withdraw my love from him.” She giggled. “Ohhh, I cannot wait to be a duchess!”

“What a heartless little hussy you will be.” Aurora laughed. “You had best not let Mama hear you speaking this way. It will give her a terrible attack of the vapors, I fear.”

“I love Mama,” Calandra admitted, “but it will be so nice not to have her telling me what to do all the time.”

“You will have the old dowager telling you what to do instead,” her brother teased her.

“Another reason for staying in London,” Calandra countered.

And the three of them laughed, while outside the study, a sudden afternoon squall blew in from the sea to pepper the windows with warm rain.