The Duchess (36 page)

“Duke,” he said, greeting Quinton Hunter, and then he turned to Allegra. “My dear duchess, you are a succès fou once again. You know how much I both admire and appreciate originality. Your gown is a triumph! I am pleased to see you make your own fashion rather than stooping to the bad taste of others.” He bowed to her, and kissed her hand.

“As do you, Mr. Brummell. You have a new haircut, I see. It is deliciously becoming. What is it called?” Allegra asked him.

“À la Brummell,”
he replied dryly. “Do you really like it? It isn't too short?”

“For someone else, perhaps, but not for you. You have such an elegant head, Mr. Brummell,” Allegra told him.

“And here in England it will remain upon my shoulders,” he chortled. “Good day, Duchess.” He bowed again, and then moved off.

“He has such exquisite manners,” Allegra murmured to her husband.

“He is a fop,” Quinton growled back. “And I didn't like his hairdo. I will admit, however, black evening clothes are damned smart.”

“We won't have to worry once we are back in the country,” she reminded him with a small smile.

It was well past six o'clock in the evening when the doors to Morgan House were closed to visitors.

“Let us not go to the theatre tonight,” Allegra pleaded with her friends. “We can go tomorrow night. Besides, the curtain has already risen anyway. I hate to miss the opening.”

“Only if you agree to give us a decent tea,” the Countess of Aston said, and she sat back upon a silk settee, kicking her slippers off.

“Marker,” Allegra called. “Tea.”

“At once, Your Grace,” the butler answered as he hurried off.

“Did the Duchess of Devonshire come?” Eunice asked.

“She never made it up the stairs, but here is her card,” Allegra said gleefully. “I'm amazed she came at all. She is up until dawn gambling. One wonders when she sleeps.”

“I saw Mr. Pitt the younger,” Caroline said excitedly. “He did manage to get into your drawing room.”

“He is very nice,” Allegra recalled. “But, Caro, where was your aunt? Lady Bellingham accepted my invitation, and it isn't like her not to come to such a levee. I know she wouldn't have missed it for the world. All of
society is in town now, and the gossip to be had is quite marvelous.”

“No,” Caroline admitted. “It isn't like Aunt to miss such a gathering. I cannot imagine what has happened to her.”

“Perhaps I should send a footman around to make certain that she is all right,” Allegra suggested, and then she did just that.

Marker brought the tea. He was followed into the room by several young footmen carrying large silver trays. Upon one were the tea sandwiches. Salmon with a sharp
moutarde
dressing, thinly sliced cucumber, roast beef, cheese, delicate breast of capon, and precisely cut slices of bread and butter. A second tray contained freshly baked scones, bowls of clotted Devonshire cream, and strawberry conserves. A third silver tray held the desserts. There were thinly sliced pieces of fruitcake, dark, rich, and filled with raisins. There were tarts of lemon, raspberry, and apricot; a caramel custard; and the duke's favorite, Genovese cake with its coffee cream filling.

Allegra poured the tea from a large silver pot into dainty Sèvres cups while the footmen passed about plates of sandwiches, scones, and desserts. They gossiped about this afternoon's
at home,
and what people had worn, and who came. Even the gentlemen joined in enthusiastically. They were almost sated with tea when the footman returned from the Bellingham house.

“You have no message for me?” Allegra demanded, seeing that he carried nothing in his gloved hand.

“I was told to tell Your Grace,” the footman began, “that his lordship received a letter from foreign parts this morning that has quite upset both him and her ladyship. They send their be-be-belated,” he declared
triumphantly, “apologies.” Then the footman bowed to the duchess.

“Thank you,” Allegra said. “There was nothing more?”

“Nothing, Your Grace.”

“You are dismissed,” Allegra told the footman. She turned to Caroline Walworth. “Who lives abroad that might send a letter that would distress your aunt and uncle so greatly?”

Caroline thought for several long moments, and then she said, “Uncle Freddie had a younger brother who married a French lady, but other than that I know nothing.”

“Then we must go at once to Lady Bellingham and learn how we may help her,” Allegra said. “She has been so kind, and good to all of us. How can we not at least try to repay that goodness?”

Everyone agreed, and so capes and cloaks were brought, as the carriages were advised to stand ready before the house. The six young people hurried out, entering their vehicles which set off through the dark London streets. The traffic was light as it was that time between the theatre and any formal dinners or parties to be held. Lord and Lady Bellingham lived but two squares over on Traleigh Square. The butler opening the door to their house looked quite surprised, for he had not been told that there were to be guests tonight. Then he saw Lady Caroline Walworth, his mistress's niece.

“Tell my aunt we have come to learn how we may help,” Caroline instructed the butler as the single footman on duty struggled to take all of their outdoor garments.

“At once, m'lady,” the butler replied as he showed them into the main drawing room.

They sat and waited in silence until the door opened
and Lady Bellingham came into the drawing room. They were all shocked by the good woman's appearance, for she was drawn and pale. It was obvious she had been crying most of the day as her eyes were puffy and red. She was dressed in a housegown, and her hair disheveled. It was as if she had not prepared for her day at all. “Ohh, my dears, how good of you to come,” Lady Bellingham said, and then she burst into fresh tears.

“Aunt, what is the matter?” Caroline cried, going to her relation, and putting her arms about her.

“It is your cousin, the Comtesse d'Aumont,” Lady Bellingham managed to say before she wept again.

“I have a cousin who is a French countess?” Caroline said, bemused.

“Come, dear Lady Bellingham, and sit down.” Allegra began taking charge of the situation as it was obvious no one else was going to do so. “Quinton, a sherry for the poor woman.” She drew the older lady to a settee and sat down next to her. “Here, drink this. You must calm yourself, Lady Bellingham,” Allegra continued. “Whatever the problem is, you will not solve it by weeping. If we are to help then we must know what is troubling you.”

“Ohh, my child, I do not think anyone can help us,” Lady Bellingham said, but she nonetheless sipped her sherry until she felt a bit more at peace with herself, and able to speak.

The others sat down about her, and waited patiently.

Finally the distraught lady was able to begin. “My husband,” she began, “has two younger brothers. Caroline's father as you know is the rector of St. Anne's Church down at Bellinghamton. It is a modest living, but one that allowed him and his family to be comfortable. The youngest brother, Robert Bellingham, had the
good fortune to marry a Frenchwoman. She was the only daughter of the Comte de Montroi, and he doted upon her. Consequently her dowry portion was very generous on the provision she and her husband remain in France. With nothing in England for him, Robert Bellingham saw no reason not to remain in his bride's homeland. So they were married. I remember going to France for the wedding. It was thirty-five years ago. We never even got to Paris, for Robert's wife, Marie-Claire, lived in Normandy.” She stopped a moment to sip the remainder of her sherry, and then held out her little glass to the duke for more. He complied silently.

“A year after the marriage they had a little girl who was baptized Anne-Marie. Sadly there were no more children. Anne-Marie was married when she was eighteen to the Comte d'Aumont, a neighbor. She is some years your senior, Caroline, which is why you have never met. Robert and his family were quite content to be country folk as were Anne-Marie and her husband. They have never been to England, and Robert never returned after he married.

“When Anne-Marie was twenty her parents were killed in a carriage accident. The shock caused her to miscarry a child, but the following year she bore her husband a daughter, whom she named after her mama; and then two years later, a son, Jean, after her husband, and Robert, after her papa.” Lady Bellingham swallowed down some more sherry, then continued.

“They lived happily for some years, but then fifteen months ago the Comte d'Aumont was caught up in the Reign of Terror, and guillotined. It was a terrible accident of fate that it ever happened. He was in Paris. An old friend had been detained by the Committee for Public Safety. Jean-Claude had gone to his aid. The comte was, you see, a Republican himself. He believed in the
Revolution, but when he visited his friend in prison to see how he might help he, too, was arrested. It was so naive of him to have gone, but he truly trusted in reform, although how he could after the murders of King Louis and his wife I do not understand. He was a kind man, I am told.” She sniffled into her handkerchief.

“Anne-Marie and her husband were very much like our own country people despite their aristocratic backgrounds. They were kind to their tenants, and when the harvest was bad they never demanded their rent, but rather helped to feed their people. They are loved in their village of St. Jean Baptiste. After her husband was killed we begged our niece to come to England where she and her children would be safe until this horror is over, however it ends; but Anne-Marie is all French despite her English father. Her little son Jean-Robert is now the Comte d'Aumont. His lands are all he has. Anne-Marie is afraid if she leaves those lands, they will be taken away from the family. So she has stayed, and now this!” Lady Bellingham broke into fulsome sobs again.

“What?”
Allegra asked her gently. “What has happened?”

“Our niece is under house arrest. The local revolutionary authorities are threatening to take her children away from her!” wailed Lady Bellingham.

Now the Duke of Sedgwick found himself drawn into this tale of woe. He knelt before the distraught woman and said quietly, “How is it that you know this, Lady Bellingham? How has the information come to your attention and that of your husband?”

“My niece lives near the coast,” Lady Bellingham explained. “One of her servants took Anne-Marie's letter to a cousin who is a fisherman. The fisherman brought it across the water, and gave it to a fish merchant he
knows who was coming up to London, with instructions that the fishmonger would be rewarded if he delivered the letter to us immediately. Freddie gave him a whole guinea!”

“How long did it take for this letter to reach you?” the duke said. “Did your niece date her missive?”

“She wrote but five days ago,” Lady Bellingham said. Then she turned her tearstained face to the duke. “Ohh, Quinton, you must help us! You must go and fetch Anne-Marie and her children from the dreadful people in France!”

“You said she would not come,” Allegra reminded the older lady. “You said she didn't want her son to lose his inheritance.”

“She will come now, child, I am certain of it. She sees the futility of trying to hold on to her son's estate. Whoever has sought to have her placed under house arrest and steal her children away means to destroy the d'Au-monts, and have what is theirs. Anne-Marie is helpless before such an enemy. She is a country wife and has no influence with the authorities.” She burst into fulsome tears once again, her shoulders shaking with her grief.

Caroline rushed now to comfort her aunt while Allegra and her husband stepped aside.

“Why,” Allegra asked her husband, “did she ask you to rescue her niece and her children, Quinton?”

“Three years ago when the terror began, Ocky, Dree, Marcus, and I rescued a friend in Paris. It began as a lark. We knew Harry was in Paris visiting distant cousins. Then came word he had been arrested with those cousins. He had managed to get word out of prison because he was English, and had the ready to pay bribes. His family was all atwitter, and didn't know how to proceed. His father kept blustering that the Froggies had no right to arrest an English citizen, but
there was poor Harry incarcerated, and a tumbrel's ride away from Madame la Guillotine. So we sailed Marcus's yacht across the channel, rented horses, and rode up to Paris.

“There, with supreme arrogance so common to us English, we went to the prison and demanded to see the governor of the facility. Marcus and Dree had brought a little money, and Ocky had just gotten his allowance from his father for the term. We threw money around as if we actually possessed it, but for me. My French is said to be peerless, and so I did the talking when the governor of the prison appeared. I explained that Lord Harry Carew was a wayward but beloved cousin of the English king who had sent us to request his return. And all the while I talked I kept jiggling this velvet bag in my hand. It jingled quite convincingly. As we anticipated, the governor was greedy.

“He could,” he said, “release the unimportant Anglais to us for a small price. No, said I. We wanted the Englishman and his relations unless, of course, they were criminals. The governor considered. Harry's relations, it turned out, were two elderly ladies. So the governor decided he would be generous if we were generous. The exchange was made. We promised to take the ladies home to collect their belongings and leave Paris before nightfall. The governor agreed, especially as we got the ladies to sign over their house near Notre Dame to him.”

“So much for revolutionary ideals,” Allegra noted dryly.

The duke laughed. “You can only imagine our surprise when we got to the old ladies' home and discovered that the Marquis and Marquise de Valency, along with their children, had been hiding in the cellars all that time! When Harry and his old cousins were arrested,
the real prize was completely overlooked. Not knowing what else to do they had remained hidden in the house. We had passports for ourselves, Harry, and the old ladies, but how were we to get the de Valency family out of Paris with us?”