Deceived

grandmother. He found Aurora with her, comforting the old lady, and was torn between his anger and the pleasure he took in her kindness to Lady Hawkesworth. 'Go to your room, Aurora,' he said quietly. 'You look exhausted, and there is nothing more that can be done tonight.'

'George?' she said in a whispery voice. 'Should we send after George and Betsy, Valerian?'

'I think not,' he replied, looking to his grandmother for confirmation, and she nodded. 'There is nothing they can do for poor Calandra, and I don't want to spoil their honeymoon. We shall send word on the next vessel bound for the western Indies. It will give them time to reach home and give your mother a little happiness before they must learn of this tragedy. Now, go to your room.'

She curtsied to them and departed.

'What is it, Valerian?' his grandmother asked when Aurora was gone. 'Something is distressing you, and it is not just the deaths that have happened in this house tonight. What is the matter?'

'Calandra was not the heiress to St. Timothy,' he said, repeating what the doctor had told him.

'I know,' the dowager responded when he had finished speaking.

'You know?' His look was incredulous. 'You knew the deception perpetrated upon me and you said nothing? Why, Grandmama? Why?'

'I learned the truth only a few months ago,' his grandmother said quietly. 'From the day I met her, Aurora seemed familiar to me, and yet I could not understand why. Then, several weeks back, I was in the family portrait gallery when I came across the portraits of the first duke's two younger sisters. Catherine Hawkesworth was married to the Kimberly, who was given the grant of St. Timothy by King Charles II, and her sister, Anne, was wed to the Meredith who shared the island with the Kimberlys. Aurora is Catherine's image, and very much Anne's as well. I realized then why Aurora had seemed so familiar, and I confirmed it with her servant, Martha.'

'But why?' he rasped, his head reeling.

'She didn't want to marry a stranger, and she didn't care if she was a duchess or not. She wants to wed for love,' the dowager said softly. 'Calandra, however, was not so particular, I fear.'

'Aurora didn't want to be a duchess?' he said wonderingly. Then he shook his head. 'There will be time to deal with that matter, but first we must see that poor Calandra and her daughter are buried decently in the family plot. She was my wife for all the deception. We can do no less, Grandmama.'

'Leave it rest, Valerian,' Mary Rose Hawkesworth said. 'If Calandra had been safely delivered of her child, it would have been different.'

'But she was not, Grandmama, and now, poor girl, she is dead,' the duke replied quietly.

'It was a mismatch, and granted it was the wrong match, but nothing of the heiress's dowry was withheld from you, Valerian,' his grandmother said. 'Let it be, and bury your wife with dignity.'

'We will bury Calandra honorably,' he answered her calmly, 'but then I will deal with that deceiving little bitch who should have been my wife. So, Miss Aurora Kimberly did not wish to be a duchess. She will shortly learn that the choice is not hers to make.'

'Valerian,' his grandmother said sternly, 'Aurora is affianced to St. John. Their marriage is scheduled for May.'

He laughed, and it was a hard sound. 'I'm afraid if my cousin wishes to marry in May, he will have to find another bride. Aurora is mine!'

Chapter 11

Charlotte Calandra Hawkesworth, Fourth Duchess of Farminster, was laid to rest in the family plot on a hillside overlooking the estate lake. The funeral was private, the young duchess mourned by her husband, her sister, Lady Hawkesworth, and three servants. Sir Ronald said the Anglican service of Christian burial over the body, and at the duke's request agreed to explain to everyone that the family's grief was such that they could not bear the weight of a larger gathering.

'Understandable, understandable,' murmured the cleric. 'A terrible loss, the duchess and her child both.' Then he left them to their mourning, grateful that Betsy and her husband had not been called back and their honeymoon spoiled. It had been generous of both the duke and his sister-in-law in their great trial and time of grief to think of the newlyweds.

'I must write to Mama,' Aurora said when they had returned to the house after the burial.

'I will write her too,' the dowager said.

'And I,' the duke told them.

'I cannot remain at Hawkes Hill for much longer,' Aurora said. 'It is not proper with my sister gone.'

'You will remain,' Valerian Hawkesworth said firmly.

'I cannot!' she cried desperately.

'You can, and you will, and I think we both know why, Aurora,' he said coldly. 'Besides, you have my grandmother to chaperon you. No one will think ill of you for staying.'

'St. John will not be happy,' she told him.

'My cousin's state of mind should be of no concern to you,' Valerian Hawkesworth answered her, 'but I shall speak to him myself very shortly.'

Aurora fled up the staircase to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her as if the devil himself were after her. 'He knows!' she told Martha, pale and wide-eyed. 'He knows!'

'Knows what, miss?' Martha was puzzled.

'That I am the one. The one he should have married!' Aurora replied frantically. 'Oh, Martha! He looked like he wanted to kill me!'

'Oh, miss, how could he know?' Martha said. 'Unless… oh, Lord help us! The doctor must have said something. He and your papa were good friends, being the only two of their kind on the island. The doctor must have known about your betrothal, and when he saw Miss Cally got curious as to why she was the duchess and not you.'

'He is going to speak to St. John!' she said frantically.

'Oh, the duke wouldn't make you marry him when he knows you love Mr. St. John, miss. Besides, it would cause a terrible scandal, and Miss Cally only just dead with her poor child. You're overwrought, miss. Now, you come and have a nice lie-down. I'll go get you some tea.'

'No!' Aurora clutched at her servant's arm. 'We have to leave Hawkes Hill, Martha. We must!'

'And where will we go?' Martha said in practical tones. 'You can't go to Primrose Court even with Mr. St. John's mother in residence. It would cause a terrible calumny. Besides, your wedding is going to have to be postponed for a year. We're in mourning now, y'know.'

'I could shelter with the Bowens,' Aurora said desperately.

'In that rabbit warren of a house, and with all those daughters, not to mention that little devil, Master Willie? There's no room for you there, miss. Come, now, and lie down for me, dearie.'