The Duchess Read Free Page B

grandparents certainly equals an earl and a countess for parents.” She arose before her red-faced daughter-in-law could respond, saying, “Sirena dearest, come. We must begin to pack, although you shall certainly need little. Just enough to tide you over until Madame Paul has your new wardrobe ready.” She swept from the room, her young daughter in her wake.
    “Why does your mama hate me so?” Charlotte wailed to her husband when they had gone.
    Augustus put a comforting arm about his wife. “Perhaps, m'dear, if you did not try to be so superior with her it might be better for you. You are surely no match for Mama. She is older, wiser, and a duke's daughter. She is also most fond of Lord Morgan and Allegra. When you denigrate them, she feels bound to defend them. I hope that in the future you will learn to keep your own counsel, for you see, I, too, have a fondness for my uncle and my cousin. My inheritance was not a great one monetarily, but Uncle Septimius took it, and in the few years since my father died, has tripled it withhis cleverness. Many of the furbelows and geegaws so dear to your heart, that I so generously bestow upon you, are provided thanks to my uncle. We are debt free, and will have the school fees for our sons when we need them one day.” He kissed her cheek tenderly.
    “I do dislike it when you scold me, Gussie,” Charlotte pouted.
    “Then amend your behavior, my darling, and I shall not have to do so,” her wise spouse replied, and gave her another kiss.
    “I shall be glad when we are finally alone,” Charlotte told him. “I will enjoy these next few weeks before we go up to town, with just you for company, Gussie. And if we are fortunate your sister, Sirena, will find a proper husband, and not return to Rowley Hall at all.” She sighed. “Of course we shall still have your mama in the dower house.”
    The marquess laughed. Had he not found the sparring between his mother and his wife so damned amusing, he might have been annoyed. They were, however, quite entertaining; his mother trying to adjust to being a dowager; his wife so eager to be lady of the manor. He was concerned that Charlotte had not conceived yet, but the Duchess of Devonshire had been a slow breeder, too. Only the presence of a son and a daughter among his cottagers reassured him that he, himself, was capable of siring children. When his wife was more secure she would certainly give him children.
    Lord Morgan's coach appeared at Rowley Hall exactly one week later, just after first light. It was a magnificent vehicle, shiny black with silver fittings, and Lord Morgan's coat of arms—a gold sailing ship upon an azure background, three gold stars and a silver crescent moon above it—painted upon each of the carriagedoors. Inside, the seats were fashioned of fawn-colored leather and pale blue velvet. There were crystal and gold oil lamps set on either side of the comfortably padded benches, and small silver floral vases filled with daffodils, fern, and white heather. The coachmen and two grooms wore elegant black and silver livery. Even Charlotte was impressed, if not just a trifle envious.
    The luggage was carefully loaded by the grooms. The coachman remained in his place atop the box controlling the four dappled gray horses with the black manes who danced and snorted, obviously impatient to get going again. Lady Abbott and Sirena exited the house, accompanied by their personal maids. Both were garbed in fine fur-collared wool mantles over their gowns.
    “Good-bye, my dear,” Lady Abbott said to her son, kissing him.
    “I shall look forward to seeing you in London, Mama,” the young marquess said with a twinkle.
    “Do some serious ploughing with Charlotte while you are alone, and have the time,” she advised him pithily. “It is past time the wench did her duty by Rowley, Gussie.” She kissed him again, and then allowed one of the grooms to help her into the vehicle.
    Actually blushing, the marquess quickly turned