door of the drawing room.
'Yes, Wickham?'
'Master George begs your pardon, yer grace, but he's got the headache fierce, and is already, beggin' yer pardon again, tossin' his guts. He can't come down to dinner. Not that I didn't warn him to wear a hat today when you was ridin', but would he listen?'
'Do what you must to cure the poor fellow,' the duke said. 'I hope he will be better by the morrow.'
'Thank you, yer grace,' Wickham said, and withdrew.
'Poor George,' Aurora sympathized with her absent brother. 'He gets these headaches out of the blue now and then. The worst of them cause his stomach to turn as delicate as a maiden's. It's better since he is grown, but when we were children he got them every few months. Mama had to sit by his bed and rub his aching head.'
'Tell me about your growing up on St. Timothy,' the duke said, escorting her into the magnificent dining room and seating her on his right. 'Peters, remove the other table setting. Master George will not be joining us. He has been taken ill.' He turned back to Aurora.
'You must be bored to death with hearing about our childhood,' Aurora laughed. 'Surely Calandra has spoken at length on it.'
'Your sister speaks only about society, her place in it, fashion, and the latest gossip,' Valerian replied bitterly.
'But surely on your voyage… you were several weeks at sea,' Aurora said.
'Our honeymoon voyage was dull, to say the least. Your sister spent a great deal of time alternately boring and impressing the other passengers, depending upon their level of gullibility, with her mindless chatter which revolved about her title, the wardrobe she would purchase when we reached England, and the high place she would take in society. Most nights she was overcome with seasickness, or so she said. I slept in Sally's cabin, and Sally slept on the trundle beneath Calandra's bed.'
'Oh, Valerian, I am so sorry,' Aurora said, and without thinking reached out to touch his hand comfortingly.
His fingers closed about hers. 'You could not know, Aurora. I apologize for being less than delicate with you.'
'I do not understand Cally at all. She is entirely different from the sister I grew up with,' Aurora responded, her cheeks pink, and then she gently extracted her hand from his. She could feel every pulse in her body pounding at his touch, but she hoped her discomfort did not show. She had begun to suspect that her comparisons of the gentlemen she had met in London to Valerian Hawkesworth were detrimental to her finding a husband of her own to love. She must not be attracted to this man, nor he to her. Valerian Hawkesworth was Cally's husband.
'Let us forget my wife for the moment,' he told her. 'Tell me of what it was like to grow up on St. Timothy.'
'It was wonderful,' Aurora began. Perhaps her recollections would help him to understand Cally better, and allow them to forge a deeper, more loving relationship. 'I remember nothing but St. Timothy, although George says he thinks he remembers Jamaica. Robert Kimberly formally adopted us immediately. He filed the papers in Barbados. He is the only father I have ever known.' Well, at least that was the truth, Aurora thought to herself. 'There was never any rivalry between any of us. I have been told that brothers and sisters often fight, but we never did. When we were small, we made up a motto, and we have adhered to it all of our lives. You heard us speak it the day you and my sister departed St. Timothy.
The duke nodded. 'Cally never explained it to me,' he said. 'I think it is charming. Go on.'
'There is really little to tell,' Aurora continued. 'Our home was filled with love. Mama was the gentler parent, and it was easy to get around her. Papa was the sterner one, but he was never cruel, never beat any of us, and getting around him was a victory.' She laughed with the memory. 'We had a tutor for lessons. George and I excelled, and were in frequent competition. Cally did not like learning a great deal. She was better at female pursuits like embroidery, painting, and music. George and I rode a great deal, but Cally has never really liked horses, as I told you previously. My brother and I loved swimming together, but Cally does not like the water, and always feared for her delicate skin in the sun. When we were small, the three of us would paddle about in the shallows beneath Martha's eye, but from the time she was about six, Cally did not enjoy being naked, and refused to swim with us. And when we were eight, Martha decided that George and I could not swim together unless he wore his drawers and I wore a chemise. We did not understand why at the time, but we obeyed her directive. Martha can be very severe, and Mama told us we must obey her.'
'And you never left your island kingdom?' the duke said.
Aurora shook her head. 'No. There was no need to leave it. We had everything we needed there.'
'And no one came to visit?'
'Rarely. Mama's family in Jamaica had disowned her when she ran away with her first husband, our father. He was of good family, but the black sheep, I fear. He was killed in a duel. Poor Mama. She always believed she could reform him, but it was not to be. He had been dead over a year when she met Papa. Her first husband had left her practically impoverished. A cousin, who knew Papa, took pity on Mama and invited her to dinner the same night she had invited Papa. Mama says it was love at first sight. They were married a month later, shocking Mama's family once again. They would not even come to the wedding, and voiced their opinion about Kingston that Mama would once again suffer for her impulsive behavior. I do not believe they would have been welcome on St. Timothy even if they had come. No, we had few visitors on the island. An occasional planter or sea captain. No one else.'
A simple meal was served as she spoke. A clear soup, a lemon sole, a roast of beef with Yorkshire pudding, a dish of carrots, and another of turnip. For all her chatter, Aurora managed to eat with a hearty appetite, much to the duke's amazement. Her appetite was quite astoundingly prodigious for a girl with such a small frame. In London they had rarely taken a meal together, Calandra preferring to serve her guests meals on trays before departing for a ball, and when they had had dinner at another house he had been nowhere near Aurora to see her eat with the gusto with which she was now eating. Where did she put it all? he wondered.
'Tell me about your childhood,' she said as she spooned up the last of her sherried trifle from a Wedgwood dish. 'You lost your parents when you were young, didn't you?'
'Like you,' he said, escorting her back into the drawing room, 'I had a happy childhood, cut all too short when my parents, and sister, Sophia, were drowned returning from France. My grandparents then took it upon themselves to raise me. I was tutored until I went off to Oxford. I came home after two years. I prefer my country life, my horses, the cattle and sheep I raise. I have my own mills, and Hawkes yarn is becoming quite well known throughout England. I have formed a small company and market it myself. Your sister was quite horrified when she learned of it. She considers farming and trade beneath a gentleman, but the king loves farming too.' They sat together upon a tapestried settee. 'Will you miss London, like Cally?' he asked her.
'No,' Aurora told him. 'Like you, I am a country mouse.' The scent of him was filling her head and making her dizzy.
'Then perhaps you will ride with me in the morning. If your sister keeps to her schedule, we shall not see her much before two in the afternoon,' he said dryly.
'It has been a long journey,' Aurora replied. 'I think perhaps tomorrow I shall stay abed until at least nine o'clock.'
'Of course,' he said. 'We shall ride later, and I will show you one of my little mills. Perhaps George will be up to coming too.' What was that fragrance that surrounded her? It was so clean and fresh.
'That would be nice,' Aurora murmured. His big hand lay almost next to hers upon her skirt, his upon his knee. She could feel the heat from it.
