'Nonsense, child, you are punctual to the minute' was the reply. 'Valerian tells me that he took you for a turn around Hyde Park this morning. Did you enjoy it?'
'Very much,' Aurora said. 'I was frankly relieved to find such a lovely place so near Farminster House.'
'A little bit of country in this otherwise bustling city,' Mary Rose Hawkesworth said with a smile. 'That is why I insisted my husband buy a house in Grosvenor Square. If I have to come to London, I must be near the park. Of course, I have always come to London as little as possible,' she finished with a chuckle.
'Calandra tells me we are going to the Duchess of Devonshire's ball tonight,' Aurora said.
'Indeed, are we?' The dowager was surprised. 'Your sister has obviously forgotten to inform me. I shall speak to her after luncheon. She is not old enough, even if she is married to my grandson, to be your chaperon. You must be accompanied by a respectable matron lest any obtain the wrong impression of your character.'
'I am relieved, ma'am,' Aurora said frankly. 'Cally seems to want to foist her friend, Lord Trahern, off on me, and I do not like him. With you by my side, I believe together we can repel him.'
The dowager laughed, and then she grew serious. 'You are wise not to be taken in by Trahern. He's a handsome devil, I'll give you that, but a bounder on the prowl for a wife with a good income.'
'He will not get mine,' Aurora said firmly. 'I shall not leave your side, ma'am.'
'Why, girl, you must if you are to dance with some of our more eligible gentlemen,' the old lady said.
'Only with your approval,' Aurora answered her. 'I will rely on your knowledge of the men involved, and your judgment of their characters.'
Mary Rose Hawkesworth nodded, and began to sip her soup. Why was the girl familiar, she asked herself for the fiftieth time since she had met Aurora yesterday evening? She had seen that face before. But where? And what a pity it wasn't this sensible miss Valerian had married instead of that bubblehead, Calandra Kimberly. Calandra. Her friendship with Lord Trahern was disturbing. The Dowager Duchess of Farminster was not so old she had not heard the gossip about Trahern. It was most unsavory. She knew Calandra was not cuckholding her grandson with the cad, for Calandra was too cold a woman, not at all to Trahern's taste. He was, of course, clever, witty, and amusing, and those traits would attract Calandra. She would want to keep in his good graces, for Trahern knew absolutely everyone, and since he had not caused any serious scandal, was welcome in all the best houses as an eligible man. Calandra was silly enough to believe that if she could make a match between Trahern and her stepsister, she would gain the devil's friendship forever.
Well, it wasn't going to happen because she would not let it happen. And it wasn't going to happen because Aurora was much too intelligent to be taken in by a man like Lord Charles Trahern. The dowager began to consider eligible young men in London now who might be suitable husbands for Aurora. None, however, came to mind. Perhaps when they were back in the country, she considered. Actually, her grandson would be a perfect husband for Aurora, and she would be a perfect wife for him. What a pity that fate had deemed it otherwise. If instead of sending Valerian off to St. Timothy a year ago she had invited Calandra and her family to England, perhaps things could have been changed. They would have seen that Calandra was unsuited to the position of duchess, and that Aurora was more than suitable.
'What are you thinking of so hard, Grandmama?' the duke said.
'Nothing of import, dear boy,' the dowager replied.
Chapter 5
Aurora was not certain if it had been the best or the worst month of her life. London was a very exciting, but also a very exhausting city in which to live. Valerian had managed to obtain two tickets to the British Museum, which was located in the newly purchased Montagu House, Bloomsbury. George had begged off, not really as interested as his stepsister was in antiquities, and so the duke had escorted Aurora. The museum had its beginnings when Sir Hans Sloane, a physician and collector, had suggested to Parliament that they might be interested in buying his works of art, antiquities, and natural history collections for less than half the price it had cost him to assemble them. Parliament was delighted to accept, and the Foundation Act was passed to cover the cost of that expense, and future such expenses. The Harleian Collection of Manuscripts was purchased in that same year from the Duchess of Portland. The museum had opened two years prior, and was very popular.
Aurora enjoyed her visit immensely, but to her surprise, she equally enjoyed the ancient Ceremony of the Keys that took place each night at the Tower of London. To this ritual she was escorted by the duke, her stepbrother, and the dowager duchess, prior to attending a ball. Calandra had chosen not to attend, rolling her eyes at them and complaining that Aurora's interest in sightseeing was becoming increasingly boring, and her intellect had been commented upon most unfavorably by several of Calandra's friends. Aurora had just laughed and gone off to Tower Hill with her party.
Standing upon a roof, they watched as the chief yeoman warder, in his red cloak and Tudor bonnet, a lantern in his hand, marched toward the Byward Tower, the keys to the ancient fortress displayed in his gloved hand.
'An escort for the keys,' he loudly called out, and four yeomen of the guard fell into step beside him as he marched through the gates of the Byward Tower and over the causeway connecting it to the entrance gate beyond the Middle Tower. The chief yeoman warder locked the gate and then continued on to lock the gates of Byward Tower, finally approaching the Bloody Tower. There the sentry on guard came forward, challenging: 'Halt! Who goes there?'
'The keys,' replied the chief yeoman warder.
'Whose keys?'
'Queen Elizabeth's keys.'
The sentry then presented arms even as the chief yeoman warder removed his cap and called out, 'God preserve Queen Elizabeth!'
'Amen!' replied the yeoman accompanying him and the sentry.
'How exciting it must have been in those days,' Aurora said afterward as their coach made its way to another of the seemingly never-ending balls. She had found to her surprise that she did not really enjoy this continual round of social events Calandra so loved. She knew she had been a great disappointment to her stepsister, but she just couldn't help it.
None of the young men who had been presented to her had taken her fancy in the least. Many were young and eager, and woefully ignorant for upper-class gentlemen. There were rakes and roues and older men looking for a second or third wife. Her comfortable little income made her eligible, but the truth was, most of the men she met looked down on her because she was a colonial, and not English born. The fops, however, were the worst. They were openly rude, and behaved as if they were doing her a great service to even speak with her. Aurora did not think she liked high society. And the women were little better. The girls her age looked sideways at her because she was considered a rival. Their mamas, in whispers, reminded all who would listen that Miss Aurora was the sister of that silly and possibly not-quite-respectable Duchess of Farminster. The way that woman carried on with Lord Trahern, and right under her husband's nose too. Well, the sister might look as innocent as the new-driven snow; and she might even have a respectable income if one were to believe the rumors; but was she really all she seemed? And what respectable family would consider such a girl for one of their sons? One could not be too careful, the mamas of the girls Aurora's age commented in an effort to turn attention to their own offspring. Aurora was not so foolish that she didn't realize what was happening.
The duke had extended their London stay longer than he had originally intended. Now, however, he was ready to return home to Hereford. Calandra was furious. She did not want to go,
