Deceived

and then she said, 'George shall go with you! That is the solution to our problem. It is quite acceptable for you to travel under the protection of an elder brother. And perhaps George will find a nice young wife while he is in England. We must ask the duke if he knows which ship follows the Royal George, and then see that the passage is booked on it for you both.'

'The harvest will not quite be over if I leave so soon,' George protested. 'And who the devil will oversee the planting, Mama? I cannot leave now. The duke has asked me to remain as his manager and overseer. I have responsibilities to him, and to my sister.'

'You have a greater responsibility to Aurora,' his mother responded meaningfully. 'She must have her chance too!'

'I do not have to follow on Cally's heels to England, Mama,' Aurora said sensibly. 'Let her and the duke settle into married life. George can finish the harvest and see to the new planting. Then in late autumn he and I can depart for England. It will be over a year before the new crop is ready to harvest, which will give him plenty of time to be a young gentleman of fashion, perhaps even a macaroni, in London. And I shall have a lovely visit with Cally before we have to return home to St. Timothy for the next harvest.' She smiled at her stepmother. 'Isn't that really a better plan, Mama? Let the duke sweep Cally off to England and her new life without our interference. He will have little love for his in-laws if they land on him too quickly.'

'But you will be almost eighteen then,' Oralia objected weakly.

Aurora laughed. 'Oh, Mama, I'm certain there will be someone willing to overlook my vast age in exchange for my dowry.'

'You are quite impossible,' Oralia said. 'I wonder if you will ever find a man to put up with you.' But she smiled as she spoke.

'I'd rather be with you here on St. Timothy' came the reply.

'Does Aurora's plan suit you, George?' Oralia asked her son.

'Aye, it does,' he agreed.

'Then it is settled,' Aurora said, and they all agreed it was.

Chapter 3

The duke's valet, Browne, awakened him quite early, as his master had requested he do. While the sky was light, the sun was not yet up. The air was warm and quite still for a change. He bathed and dressed quickly, for he was to ride with George and Aurora before the sun became too hot for his inspection. By ten o'clock in the morning George told him the heat would be too much for him, as he was unused to it.

Browne handed him a deep saucer. 'A bit of tea, sir. The cook was kind enough to make it up. The family stock is really quite palatable. We may not be in civilization, but it ain't bad here but for the heat. I hardly closed my eyes all night.'

'You'll be quite used to it by the time we leave, Browne,' Valerian Hawkesworth said with a smile. He drank the fragrant tea, setting the saucer down on a small table when he had emptied it.

'Master George sent up this hat for you to wear, sir.' Browne handed the duke the broad-brimmed straw head covering, remarking, 'It surely ain't fashionable, is it, my lord?'

Clapping the hat on his dark head, the duke picked up his riding crop and left his bedroom. In the airy downstairs foyer he found his two companions waiting. He was a bit surprised to see that Miss Spencer-Kimberly was wearing breeches. 'You do not ride sidesaddle?' he said.

'Of course not,' she said. 'The terrain is rough on the island. It is not some tame London park, your grace. Do all English ladies of fashion ride seated, their leg thrown awkwardly over their saddle's pommel? It is an extremely uncomfortable way to ride. I firmly believe that is why Cally never took to a horse. She is of a delicate nature, and felt unsafe seated so unnaturally. Still, I could never get her to ride astride. She thought it not feminine.' The look she gave him challenged him to agree with her stepsister.

'I believe,' Valerian Hawkesworth said, neatly sidestepping the issue, 'that as we are to be related by marriage, Miss Spencer-Kimberly, that you should call me something other than your grace. I shall call you Aurora, and you may call me Valerian.'

'Oh, may I?' Aurora said, her eyes wide, her voice unnaturally sweet. She fluttered her lashes at him.

'Sister, behave yourself!' George scolded her. 'Valerian isn't used to your sharp tongue and teasing ways.' He grinned at the duke. 'She's quite a minx, I fear. Papa never quite knew what to do with her. He doted on both the girls, and both are spoiled.'

'I think I know what I should have done with her,' the duke said, his dark blue eyes hard. 'I suspect Aurora has never felt a hard hand on her bottom. It reforms the worst jades.'

George saw the fire in her eyes and said quickly, 'We must be off. The sun will be up before we know it! Come along now.'

'I know nothing about sugar except that it is sweet,' Valerian said to his companions. 'Tell me about it as we ride.'

'It's a never-ending round-robin of labor,' George said. 'We have four large fields on this side of the island, and four on the other side, which once belonged to the Meredith family. We rotate the fields. This year we are harvesting on this side of the island, and the other side is fallow, but being constantly fertilized, for cane takes a great deal of nourishment from the soil. We harvest every eighteen months. In a year, before the one side is ready for harvesting, we replant on the other side. The fallow fields need to be weeded in the between times. During the rainy season, usually between May and December, we plant. In the dry season, usually from January to May, we harvest our crop. We are never idle.'

'How is cane planted?' the duke asked.

'We propagate, using cuttings from the tops of mature plants. The slaves dig holes and fertilize. Our father's father planted in long trenches, but now everyone holes because it prevents the soil from eroding and conserves moisture. Once the cane is planted, it is a constant round of fertilizing and weeding until the cane is cut.'

'How many slaves do you have?'

George thought a moment, and then he said sheepishly, 'I don't know. Enough to do the work, of course.'

'How many new slaves are required to be bought each year? I have been told that the mortality rate on sugar plantations is extraordinarily high due to the hard work and harsh conditions,' the duke remarked. As they approached the fields, he could already see black men and women at work, cutting and stacking the cane.

'The mortality rate on St. Timothy is relatively low but for old age and an occasional accident.' Aurora spoke up now. 'Papa hated slavery. Had he been able to run the plantation without slaves, he would have done so, but he realized it was not realistic. He did the next best thing. He gave them decent housing and food. We have trained one of their own to doctor them. Field slaves work hard, but our slaves are not overworked, and Sunday is a day of rest for everyone on St. Timothy, free, bond, and slave alike. Consequently, our slave women bear live children who grow up to work in the fields next to their fathers. I cannot remember the last time a slave was bought. It is not like that on neighboring islands and plantations. Under English law the slaves have absolutely no rights at all. A master can kill a slave for no cause and still be within his rights. It's horrible! Those poor blacks are worked around the clock until they die, and their owners care not. The slavers call regularly from Africa, bringing new consignments of unfortunate souls to be used, and then disposed of without thought. It is outrageous! But we do not do that here on St. Timothy.'

She spoke with such passion that she surprised him. He had thought her merely sharp-tongued and spoiled, but Aurora, it would seem, had a conscience. As he did not like slavery either, it pleased him.