The Duchess

George Brummell, a clever young man, had noted when the contessa turned away from Allegra, her eyes had been filled with tears. Curious, he thought, and then determined he would learn the reason why. As they left The Grove to promenade back to where their carriages awaited them, he spoke in low tones in flawless Italian to the contessa.

'Who are you really, madame? You are English, you say by birth. Who was your sire?'

She looked at him with bleak eyes, and then she murmured so low that only he could hear. 'I was the youngest daughter of the Duke of Arley, Mr. Brummell. Please, I beg of you to keep my secret.'

Brummell could not have been more surprised than he now was by her revelation. 'You are the duchess's mother:'

'I am. I never expected to see England again, but that the French ravaged my villa outside of Roma. My husband died two years ago, and we had no children of our own. I will go back one day when the French have gone, of course, but for now I had nowhere else to come but England. I am financially safe for Giancarlo placed his funds with a family of bankers named Kira. who have branches all over Europe. I thought it was unlikely that I should meet anyone who once knew me. Even the prince does not remember me, and we met when he was a young boy. He attempted to put his hand down my dress even then. I slapped him. I will not slap him if he again attempts it.' She gave him a rueful shrug. 'I need friends, you understand.'

He nodded. 'Seeing her now, do you regret your actions, madame?' Brummell asked the contessa.

'No,' she shrugged. 'I fear I do not. I did not love my first husband. I did love my second. I wanted no one, nothing to come between us. I was fortunate he felt the same way. It is odd, however, to see my daughter grown. To know I am to be a grandmother. To realize my sister has taken my place. Still, I have lived my life the way I wanted to live it. Don't most people if they can? Yet, it saddens me that I have lost my only son. But how gallant he was, wasn't he? And as for my only surviving child, she is a lovely young woman, with beautiful manners, and an obvious intelligence. She has found love the first time, and I wish that she may always have it.'

'You will not tell her who you are?' Brummell said.

'Of course not,' the contessa explained. 'While I did not want her, I nonetheless bore her, making her father happy, who for all my own feelings, is a good man. Even if she knew my identity, sir, all it could do would be to upset her. I am nothing to her, nor do I wish to be at this late date. Nonetheless, I am pleased to see what a fine young woman she has turned out to be.'

'You are a realist, madame,' Brummell said in English.

'Yes,' she responded in the same language. 'I have always known when to cut my losses. Now, if I can but teach that to your prince,' she finished with a smile.

Brummell laughed.

They had reached the end of The Grand Walk, and were at its entrance. Prinny handed Allegra and Honor into her carriage. He bowed.

'I think I shall go to Casa di Fortuna with Brummell and the contessa, m'dear. You do not mind. You will give my regards to both your husband and your father.'

'I will, Your Highness,' Allegra said graciously. Then she pulled up the window of her carriage door, and the vehicle pulled away.

Chapter 18

Alighting from her traveling coach, Allegra ran through the front door of her father's house, Morgan Court. 'Papa! Papa!' she called excitedly.

The foyer was deserted. How odd, she thought. Then a young housemaid carrying two steaming kettles of water hurried by, billowed by a footman carrying an armful of white clothes.

'Stop,'Allegra called to them, and, startled, they did. 'Where is my father?' she demanded.

'Yer father?' The footman looked confused, but the housemaid said, 'Dolt, 'tis his lordship's daughter.'

Then the young woman turned to Allegra. 'Lord Morgan is upstairs with his wife, Your Grace. Her ladyship is having her baby.'

Allegra pushed past them both, and raced upstairs, going directly to the apartment she knew belonged to her aunt mama. Entering the salon she moved quickly into the bedchamber where Olympia was ensconced in her bed, looking pale, her forehead beaded with dots of moisture.

Seeing Allegra her face lit up with relief and surprise. 'Darling girl, please take your father out of here so 1 may get on with the business of bearing our child. He will not leave me.'

'I came to apologize, Aunt Mama,' Allegra began.

'It is all right, Allegra. We will speak later after I have delivered your sibling,' Olympia said. 'Now please calm your papa.'

'I will not leave you,' Septimius Morgan said. He was too pale, and looked as if he had not slept in several nights. He wore no coat, and his shirt was half-unbuttoned, having no neckcloth. He ran an impatient hand through his thinning hair. 'I cannot leave you.' He turned to his daughter. 'Allegra, please explain to your stepmother that I will not go. That I love her, and must be by her side.'

'But Papa, she doesn't want you here,' Allegra said quietly. 'Besides, how can you help her? You are more a distraction, I think.'

'Very sensible,' another male voice spoke. A gentleman of middle years came forward. He, too, was in his shirtsleeves. 'Doctor Horace Pritchard, Your Grace. I believe your father could do with a good whiskey, and the equally comforting company of his daughter.'

'Come, Papa.' Allegra took her father's arm.

He pulled away, saying pleadingly, 'But she will need me.'

'Septimius! 1 have borne four children before this one, and all without the help of a husband,' Olympia Morgan said humorously. 'I love you, but in the name of God go away so 1 may have this child in peace. We will send down to you when we need you.'

'Come along, Papa,' Allegra gently cajoled him. 'I have a great deal of news for you. 1 have just come from London.'

'Allegra,' the laboring woman called out. 'Thank you, my dear. I do love you, even as I love your papa.'

Allegra turned, and flashed her stepmother a warm smile. Then she escorted her father downstairs to his library. 'Will you have a whiskey, Papa, or would you prefer wine?' she asked him.

He waved a hand at her. 'Whatever is nearest to hand, my child,' he told her. 'Damnit, I want to be with Olympia.'

'Papa, she is having a baby, and she is uncomfortable having you there in the room with her. You must accept her decision in the matter, and make it easier for her.' She poured him a smoky dollop of whiskey into a Waterford glass, and handed it to him. 'Here, Papa. This will, I am certain, calm your nerves.'