Deceived

'Perhaps,' Aurora said, and then she lifted her glass, saying, 'To Calandra.'

The others raised their glasses solemnly, repeating, 'To Calandra.'

Aurora cut the cake, giving them all small slices of the dark, rich fruitcake. When they had finally finished, the dowager excused herself, claiming fatigue, but Aurora knew she did not wish to be there when St. John came to call. The clock in the foyer struck two o'clock as she and her husband entered the drawing room. Peters was already hurrying to open the front door, for St. John was always punctual. Aurora settled herself on a settee, her skirts spread about her.

'You look perfect, and are the most beautiful woman I have ever known,' the duke said. Then he continued. 'St. John will be quite piqued, I fear.' He chuckled wickedly.

'If I did not wish to muss my attire,' Aurora told him, 'I should smack you, Valerian! If you expect St. John to act like a grown man, then you must stop behaving like a childish boy!'

He laughed even as the double doors to the drawing room were opened, and Peters announced, 'Mr. St. John, my lord.' Then, closing the doors behind the duke's guest, Peters left them.

Justin St. John's eyes went immediately to Aurora. They took in her attire, lingering a moment upon the necklace she wore. He was no fool. 'Have you married her, then, Hawkesworth?'

The duke nodded.

'You bastard!' St. John replied, and turned angrily to go.

'Wait!' the duke called to him.

St. John turned. 'Why? What more is there to say about it?'

'She is the heiress to St. Timothy, not Calandra,' Valerian told his cousin, and then he went on to explain the deception that had been enacted, and how Dr. Carstairs, coming in place of Dr. Michaels, had revealed the truth to the duke after Calandra's unfortunate demise.

'Well, I'll be damned!' St. John chortled, his mood suddenly lightened. 'So Aurora was your betrothed, and not Calandra. And if you had not learned of it, and I eventually had, then I should have been able to lay claim upon St. Timothy! Well played, cousin!'

Aurora stared at the two men, now embracing and clapping. 'Well played?' She arose from the settee where she had been seated. 'Damn you, St. John! Did you not love me? You said you felt for me what you had never felt for another woman!'

The two men turned to look at her, astounded. Only the duke really understood his bride's outrage. He grinned, and waited to see what she would do next. Poor St. John! He had no idea of how a woman who believed herself betrayed could behave.

'Why, my dear,' St. John said, 'I did not lie to you. I did feel for you what I had not ever felt for another woman, but that was because you were not like any other woman I had ever met. Each girl is different, and so, of course, I feel differently for each of them.'

'So you did not really love me,' she responded.

'I loved you in my fashion,' he told her weakly.

'St. John, you are a seducer and a fool! I do not know which is worse,' Aurora replied. 'Why on earth were you prepared to marry me, then? To confound Valerian?'

'In part, yes,' he admitted. 'Could you not see how badly he wanted you, Aurora? And he could not have you! It was too delicious a situation to resist. The dowager saw a scandal in the making, and was very much on my side, and besides, it was time for me to start my nursery. My mother will be quite disappointed, for she desires grandchildren.'

Aurora's fingers had wrapped themselves about a small vase upon the table next to the settee as he spoke. Now, as he finished with a small, apologetic smile, she grasped the vase and threw it at him with all the force she could muster. Surprise exploded upon his face as he ducked, but the vase slightly creased the side of his head before crashing to the floor and breaking into several pieces. The duke burst out laughing, then leapt across the space that separated him from his wife, who had obtained a second missile and was prepared to launch it.

'Now, my precious,' he murmured at her soothingly, 'you must not be rude to poor St. John. He has answered your questions as honestly as he knows how. Come, Aurora, and let us all make peace.' He yanked a china figurine from her fingers and put a restraining arm about her.

Aurora stamped down upon his foot with all her might, and as he yelped in pain, she pulled away from him. 'You may, the pair of you, go to hell!' she said, and then stalked from the drawing room.

'Spirited gel,' St. John noted. 'Perhaps you have done me a favor, cousin, by taking her off my hands. I don't think I could manage such a fierce firebrand, although I will admit,' he confided wickedly, 'that she kisses like an angel and has marvelous little tits.'

'Do not honor me with your confidences regarding the lady who is now my wife, cousin. I might be forced to call you out, St. John,' the duke told him pleasantly, but there was an undertone of menace in his voice. 'Come, and let us have a whiskey before you ride home to break the news to your mother.'

'Well,' St. John responded sulkily, 'I did leave her virtue intact, Hawkesworth. You might at least thank me for that. After all, we were to be married, and no one could have faulted me for breeching her.' He accepted the cut-glass tumbler the duke handed him and sniffed at it appreciatively.

The duke laughed. 'Very well, St. John, I thank you for leaving my betrothed wife's virginity for me to dispose of last night.'

St. John laughed back. 'Why, you devil! You were taking no chances, were you? I do believe that I am flattered, Hawkesworth.' He raised his glass to the duke. 'To her grace,' he said.

Valerian Hawkesworth acknowledged his cousin's salute and lifted his own tumbler. 'To her grace,' he said, 'and to you also, St. John. You are certainly the most gentlemanly cad I have ever known, even if we are related by blood.'

The two cousins drank their whiskey in companionable silence for a few minutes, and then St. John said, 'Who the hell am I going to find to marry, Hawkesworth? Mama is going to be furious, and there will be hell to pay. What about that tempting little Isabelle Bowen?'

'My grandmother has her marked for some baronet, but of course she has not introduced the two yet. I see no reason why you shouldn't make an attempt. Pretty wench. Modest dower, but the Bowens are quite respectable and a very old family. She would be most suitable, and she's innocent enough to be bowled over by your unctuous charms, St. John. Your mother would be quite pleased if you could pull it off. Best to catch Miss Bowen before she grows much older and discovers what a rogue you really are, cousin,' he finished with a chuckle.

'I shall play the heartbroken lover,' St. John said thoughtfully. 'Young girls always adore comforting a man whose heart has been hurt by some other vixen. You don't mind if I suggest Aurora is a villainess, do you, Hawkesworth? Not a wicked one, of course, hut a wee bit of a one. Tampered with my affections knowing all along how she had deceived you and was now deceiving me.' His look was that of a saddened lover.

The duke burst out laughing. 'Be heartbroken if you will, St. John, but do not make my wife out a villainess. The truth will serve you quite nicely. You must be generous in your crushing grief. It will play better, I suspect. Also, you will have to turn your talents to overcoming any objections that the Bowens have regarding your suitability as a son-in-law. Win Isabelle over first, however. Sir Ronald will not like losing a title for his daughter. I will assuage my grandmother's disappointment by reminding her that the next Bowen chit will be marriageable in just three or four more years. If the baronet is loath to settle down, a few more years should not