Deceived

'It most certainly is,' the duke chuckled, 'but I was unable to pay my respects to the king last autumn when he was married, and then later coronated. I felt it my duty to do so now.'

'You'll like him, Hawkesworth,' Lord Mottley said with a twinkle in his eye. Then he lowered his voice. 'We call him Farmer George, for he does love all things pertaining to country life, and the little queen does too. They are well matched. The rumor is, although, of course, it has not yet been officially announced, that her majesty is with child, but her waist seems as slim as it was on her wedding day, I vow, so who knows what truth there is in the rumor. Who is sponsoring your introduction to their majesties, or have you no one?'

'The Earl of Bute,' the duke answered.

'Bute? Well, Hawkesworth, you do have high connections. I would not have thought so, but put no faith in Bute. He will not last long, for the Whigs hate him and the Tories but tolerate him. An introduction is about all he is good for, I fear.'

'Aurora, mon ange, you look divine,' she heard Charles Trahern murmur in her ear, and then he popped about into her view. 'Hello, Mottley, how are you? Still looking for a wife? Not much available tonight in this room for a baronet of modest means,' Lord Trahern snickered. 'I will wager, however, that Aurora might know some sweet country lass of good breeding who can fill your nursery.'

Lord Mottley bowed stiffly to them, and moved off.

'Trahern, you have a tongue like a rusty knife,' Aurora said. 'Not only do you cut, you leave infection behind. What on earth do you have against poor Lord Mottley?'

'The man's a bore,' Trahern said offhandedly. 'Were you at school with him, Hawkesworth?'

The duke nodded, amused. Robert Mottley was a good-natured fellow, but Trahern was right. He was a bore, and Trahern did not suffer fools easily, or gladly. 'And have you enjoyed yourself spreading our little scandal about London?' he faintly mocked Trahern.

'I spread it only with the people who count,' Trahern replied, slightly offended. 'It does no good to gossip indiscriminately, my dear fellow. I would have thought you knew that. Have you presented yourselves to Bute yet?'

'We have only just arrived, and I haven't been able to find him in this crush, Trahern,' the duke replied.

'Of course you haven't,' Trahern answered. 'He is in the Blue Drawing Room with their majesties, presenting newcomers. Come along, and I will show you where it is.' He hurried off.

They followed dutifully behind, Aurora's eyes gazing at everything in sight. The ballroom was a magnificent place, all carved gilt, and walls painted with lush romantic themes. Plaster medallions gilded in gold and silver framed the painted ceiling with its depiction of ripe-breasted goddesses and half-naked gods at play. The crystal chandeliers and the gilt wall scones twinkled with a thousand beeswax tapers. Gilded wood chairs and settees upholstered in crimson velvet lined the room at one end of which a dais for the musicians had been set up. Everyone was dressed beautifully. How Cally would have loved it all, Aurora thought, and all I want to do is go home to Hawkes Hill. I do not like London. It is much too big and noisy.

They exited the ballroom, following Lord Trahern down a picture-lined gallery. At its end was a double door. The two footmen standing on either side of the door flung it wide, allowing them to pass through into the Blue Drawing Room, so named for its blue velvet draperies and blue upholstery. Immediately a tall gentleman with a long, aristocratic face came forward, his hand outstretched in greeting. He did not smile, but his demeanor was a pleasant one.

'Hawkesworth, my dear fellow, I am delighted that you were able to join us this evening,' the Earl of Bute said politely.

'I am grateful for your lordship's patronage in this matter,' the duke replied. He drew Aurora forward. 'May I present my wife to you, sir? Aurora, this is the Earl of Bute.'

'The true heiress?' The Earl of Bute's blue eyes twinkled mischievously for a moment. 'Madam, I am honored to make your acquaintance. I hope you will soon be able to return home, although the court will be at a loss for your departure.' He kissed her hand and bowed gallantly.

Aurora curtsied prettily. 'I thank your lordship for his kindness to my husband and myself. This is a great honor. I cannot wait to write to my mother to tell her of this evening.'

'Come along, then, and let me present you to their majesties,' the earl said, and drew them over to where the king and queen stood.

The king was a handsome young man with a fair complexion, blond hair, and slightly protruding blue eyes. He was the first of the House of Hanover to have been born and raised entirely in England, a fact of which he was extremely proud. Unlike his grandfather, George II, and his great-grandfather, George I, he had no German accent, English being his first tongue. The young queen, while not a beauty, had a pleasant little face, sparkling blue eyes, and reddish-blond hair. She was only seventeen, while the king was twenty-three.

'Your majesty,' said the Earl of Bute, 'may I present to you Valerian Hawkesworth, the Duke of Farminster, and the Lady Aurora, his duchess. They were unable to be at your majesties' wedding, or coronation last autumn, and have come up to London especially to pay their respects to your majesty. The duke, like your majesty, has a deep love of agriculture, and spends his time down in the country, overseeing his estates. He raises excellent cattle and horses.'

The king's face lit up immediately. 'You farm?' he said.

'Yes, your majesty, I do,' replied the duke with a bow.

'Where are your estates?'

'In Herefordshire, your majesty' was the response.

'We must come and see one day,' the king said. 'Would you believe that I envy you, Hawkesworth? I should like nothing better than to farm my lands.'

'But England needs you, your majesty,' the duke told the king graciously. 'You will rule this land with equity and justice.'

'You have a courtier's tongue to match your farmer's heart.' The king chuckled. Then he turned to his wife. 'May I present her majesty to you, your grace. My dear, this is the Duke of Farminster.'

The duke greeted the queen while King George turned his attention back to Aurora, who immediately curtsied to him.

'I am told, madam, that you are a petite cause celebre,' he said. 'What on earth did you do to earn such a reputation. You would appear to be a respectable and sensible young woman.'

With a pretty blush that immediately convinced the king of her honesty, Aurora briefly explained, concluding, 'I was very foolish, I fear, your majesty.'

'Indeed you were,' the king scolded her, 'but the good Lord has given you a second chance, your grace, and you have taken it, and are happy, I can see. Do you like your country life?'

'Oh, yes, your majesty!' Aurora said enthusiastically. 'I love Hawkes Hill, and miss it so! It will be a wonderful place to raise our children. Children thrive in the country.'

'And you desire children, your grace?'

'Oh, yes!' she told him.

The king smiled. Whatever waywardness this young woman was accused of, she had obviously repented, and would be a good wife to her husband and an excellent mother to their children. King George approved of such a woman. He wanted an England full of them. 'Let me present you to the queen,' he said to Aurora, and did so.