'No, little sister, you don't really hate me, but you are angry that I have found a way to curb your wicked conduct. You were always a poor loser at games, Cally, and this is the biggest game of all. The most important we shall ever play.'
'No wonder the men didn't like you,' Cally said cruelly. 'They said you were uppity and high-flown for such an unimportant little colonial. Too much of a bluestocking, Trahern said he heard.'
'Lord Trahern's gossip is of little import to me, Cally. I found your friends shallow, dull, and wretchedly obvious. As for the ladies, they were little better, and most of the girls my age were insipid and silly. Very much like you have become, I fear. I think I shall find a nice country gentleman far more to my taste, even if he isn't a duke. However, if you wish to retain your title, little sister, you had best let Moll dress you. The trip is a long one, the dowager informs me. We want to make it as pleasant as possible. Shall I call your servants back now?' She smiled at Calandra.
What would she do, I wonder, Cally thought, if I told her to go to the devil and called her bluff. But Cally knew what Aurora would do. She never in all their lives had made an idle threat or refused a reasonable dare. She will expose me. Expose our deceit even if it means we will all be ruined. She has a dowry and an income. I have nothing if I am not the Duchess of Farminster. I should have to go back to St. Timothy and live in the old Meredith plantation house with Mama for the rest of my life.
'Cally?'
'Oh, call my servants in, Aurora. You have won this round, but I will find a way to repay you for this betrayal, I promise you!'
'You will feel better when we have reached Hawkes Hill,' Aurora said soothingly. 'You are exhausted with all your social life.'
'Oh, go to the devil!' Cally said sourly, 'And get out!'
Their trip was not unpleasant. Cally sulked and hardly spoke to her, but the landscape outside their carriage while winter still was yet lovely. Their vehicle was comfortable and warm, and very well sprung. The horses were changed at midday when they stopped to refresh themselves at the prearranged inn. Their accommodations were clean and quite satisfactory. There were hot, tasty meals and warm featherbeds with down comforters. Hot water was brought at night to wash, and again in the morning.
When her stepsister's mood refused to lighten, Aurora asked the dowager's permission to ride in her coach with her. She was a far better companion, and very knowledgeable about the country through which they were traveling.
'The road we travel upon was originally built by the Romans,' the dowager informed Aurora. 'Do you know about the Romans, girl?'
'A little bit, ma'am. They were an ancient peoples, warlike, considered a great civilization in their time. I did not know, however, that they built roads too.'
'All over England, girl!' She smiled at Aurora. 'How is it you know about the Romans? I doubt that bubblehead of a sister of yours knows about Romans, or much of anything else either.'
'Cally was not particularly fond of her studies as George and I were, but she plays the pianoforte beautifully. Has she played for you? She can sing too, and paint,' Aurora defended Calandra.
'How did you convince her to come along so meekly?' the dowager demanded. 'She's been sulking ever since we left London, but she came.'
Aurora laughed, pretending to make light of the matter. 'Why, ma'am, I just told her if she didn't behave herself, the duke would divorce her, and then she wouldn't be a duchess anymore.'
'Hah!' the dowager barked a sharp laugh. 'You certainly know the bubblehead's weak spot, don't you, girl? Aye, that was a good threat. Calandra likes being the Duchess of Farminster.' She looked sharply at Aurora. 'I shall have to be careful choosing a husband for you, girl. If he is too weak, you will have no respect for him, and if he is too strong, you will kill each other. You present me with quite a challenge.'
'As my family knows, ma'am, I will marry only for love. Titles and wealth mean little to me. Nevertheless, I will appreciate your efforts in the matter. Perhaps together we shall be successful.' Her gloved hands were folded meekly in her lap, but Mary Rose Hawkesworth was not in the least fooled.
'Are you as stubborn as your sister, then, miss?' she asked.
'I will admit to being stubborn,' Aurora replied, 'but you will find me far more reasonable than Cally, I think.'
The dowager chuckled, genuinely amused. It had been a very long time since she had been so taken with someone as she was with Aurora. Again she considered the pity of it that it hadn't been Aurora her dear grandson married instead of the foolish Calandra. Changing the subject, she said, 'I believe I have the perfect wife for George, although I will certainly present him with several young ladies that I consider suitable marriage prospects. Still, I have my own personal favorite. I shall tell you about her if you do not tell your brother. He should make up his own mind, of course.'
'I promise, ma'am,' Aurora said.
'Her name is Elizabeth Bowen. She is the eldest daughter of Sir Ronald and Lady Elsie Bowen. Sir Ronald is a baronet with a small estate matching ours. He is the vicar at Farminster village church.'
'Would her family be willing to have their daughter move an ocean away from them, ma'am?' Aurora wondered. 'You know that Valerian appointed George to remain in his position as St. Timothy's manager.'
'The Bowens will thank God if Betsy and George are taken with each other. Lady Elsie proved a fecund wife, but she has given her husband five daughters before their son was at last born. Five dowries, and the estate entailed upon the heir. Those poor girls don't have large portions, and cannot expect great marriages. A young man with an income such as your brother's will be considered a treasure.'
'How will he meet her, ma'am?'
'We shall have a ball at Hawkes Hill once we are settled in again. That should please your sister,' the dowager said. Then she yawned. 'I am exhausted with all this traveling. I will certainly be glad to be sleeping in my own bed tonight.' She closed her eyes, and very shortly began to snore softly.
Aurora looked out the window of the coach as it rumbled along the road. The landscape was rolling. Here and there the symmetry of the land was broken by isolated hills. They had crossed a great number of brooks, streams, and small rivers along the way. The countryside was heavily wooded, stands of oak and elm and beech vying with orchards that come spring would blossom, and come late summer would give forth a bounteous crop of apples and pears. There were arable fields, their plow ruts frozen with winter's cold. By summer they would be golden with wheat. Herefordshire's greatest wealth was in the sheep and cattle now grazing on the late February hills. The cattle were bred for meat, which for the most part would end up in London. The sheep gave a good wool crop regularly that was woven in the area's many small water-powered mills into fine cloth and yarns.
Most of the farms and small towns they passed by had timber-framed houses with thatched roofs. The churches, even those in the little villages, were, however, constructed of stone, as were the castles and the great houses of nobility. Cally had complained that Hawkes Hill was a big old-fashioned stone house with a slate roof, and nothing to recommend it at all. The dowager, however, had told Aurora that the house dated back to Tudor times, and indeed had been constructed on the ruins of an earlier house that had burned.
