"We will do this every night until I am convinced you are with child, Calandra," he told her with brutal frankness. "If you attempt to cry out, I will gag you once again. You will cause no upset within my house. Once you have given me a healthy son, then I shall leave you in peace for the rest of your days. You may go to London. You may go to Paris. You may go to h.e.l.l for all I care. But you will go nowhere until I have my heir. Is that understood?"
She nodded, stunned by his determination.
"And tomorrow you will appear at the dinner table. I will tolerate no more sulking on your part. Is that also understood?"
"Yes," Cally whispered.
The duke picked up his dressing gown, and, wrapping it about himself, departed her chamber through the connecting door. Within the privacy of his own rooms he sagged against the chifforobe. He felt absolutely drained, and disgusted with himself, but what other choice had he had? He had heard of women like Calandra who disliked the s.e.xual act entirely. Some women, he knew, preferred other women as lovers, as some men preferred those of their own kind. There were those who had lovers of both s.e.xes, and then there were those very few like his wife for whom physical pa.s.sion was repellent. What a pity she had been spoiled as a child by the planter from Barbados, who had touched her as no decent man should a little girl. That monster would have eventually raped Calandra had not the vigilant Martha discovered them.
Had Calandra been born with some inner distaste for l.u.s.t and for love? Or had that youthful experience hurt and frightened her? If he had behaved differently, could he have taught her the joys of pa.s.sion? He wanted to believe he could, but in his heart he knew that he could not. He had never been rough with his wife until that night. He had been patient and gentle with her. When he had finally gotten into her bed, it had been three nights before he had taken her virginity. Valerian Hawkesworth did not know what else he could have done. Now neither of them had a choice in the matter. He needed an heir, and Calandra wanted to remain d.u.c.h.ess of Farminster. It was a heavy burden he had to bear, and he would have to bear it alone. With a sigh he took off his dressing gown and put on the silk nightshirt that Browne had left at the foot of his bed before climbing between the lavender-scented sheets.
He had seen the shock in Calandra"s eyes when his manhood had responded to his secret thoughts of Aurora. He wondered what his wife would think should she learn the object of his desire was her own sister. h.e.l.lfire and d.a.m.nation, how he wanted her! But he would never have her except in his lonely dreams. He would have to cooperate with his grandmother to find Aurora a husband, and he would have to stand by as she was married to another man. A stranger who would get to plunder Aurora"s sweetness as he never would. He hated the thought. Closing his eyes, he attempted to sleep.
In the morning the ladies always took breakfast on trays in their bedchambers. At luncheon, however, the duke was surprised to find his wife joining them at table. While a trifle paler than normal, Calandra looked none the worse for wear. Greeting him politely, she took her place, smiling brightly at those a.s.sembled.
"I am almost recovered from our journey," she said, and turned to the dowager. "And you, ma"am? You are looking well today."
Mary Rose Hawkesworth"s thin eyebrow rose imperceptibly. "I am still tired," she said, "but then, I am a great deal older than you are, my dear. Still, I could not bear my own company another minute. Aurora, I am told you have been amusing yourself with our library."
"It"s a wonderful library," Aurora responded. "Cally, how pretty you look," she told her sister. "I was worried about you."
"You need not have fretted," Cally replied. "How typical of you, Aurora, to spend all your time in a library. You will ruin your eyes and get wrinkles, I fear." She turned back to the dowager. "We must plan a ball, ma"am, if we are to launch my sister and brother onto the sea of matrimony. You know all the country folk to invite."
"Indeed I do. I thought, perhaps, Calandra, that the first of May would be a delightful time. All the villages celebrate with Maypoles, dancing, and bonfires. Would that suit you?"
"Can we not do it sooner?" Cally asked.
The dowager shook her head. "I am afraid not. There is a great deal of planning to a ball, Calandra, as you will see, since I expect you to help me plan it. Eventually you will plan all your b.a.l.l.s yourself, but as this will be your first fete at Hawkes Hill, I will help you. There is much to do."
"Like what?" Cally was genuinely curious.
"Well, for starters," the dowager said, "the ballroom must be refurbished and thoroughly cleaned, the floors polished to a high gloss, the crystal chandeliers all washed and polished and set with freshly dipped candles. A menu must be selected and planned for those invited to dinner beforehand. We can seat only fifty. There are, of course, invitations to be issued, and they must all arrive on the same day else any guest feel slighted by learning another had received his or her invitation first. The gardeners must be certain that there are plenty of fresh flowers from the greenhouses for the hallway, the drawing room, the dining room, the ballroom. What cannot be supplied by our greenhouses must be begged from neighbors. We will have to hire young men and women from the village to help out as maids and footmen, and in the kitchens. And musicians, of course! Some of our guests may be invited to remain overnight, and so there must be bedrooms prepared for them."
"There is a great deal of detail to it, isn"t there?" Calandra said, suddenly not quite so enthusiastic. "Can we not hire someone to do it all? And what of a seamstress? I will certainly need a new ball gown. I can hardly greet my guest in an old ball gown."
"Since none of our guests will have seen any of your ball gowns, Calandra, I do not understand why you need another one," Valerian said dryly.
She glared at him. "Do not be such a pinchpenny with me, sir. I will not embarra.s.s myself by appearing in an old ball gown."
"Then you shall not," he said, "nor shall any of my ladies. A seamstress shall be called in to make ball gowns for you and Aurora and Grandmama. It is only fair, I think."
"What a fine idea!" his grandmother said, a twinkle in her eye.
"I do not really need another gown," Aurora said, "but I will not refuse your kind offer, Valerian. Perhaps, Cally, you will let me help you and Lady Mary Rose to repay my lord duke"s kindness."
"Oh, yes! You were always better than I in matters like this," Cally said, delighted that her sister had volunteered her services. Perhaps she would not be angry at Aurora any longer. "Mama always said you were good at planning entertainments."
Well, thought the dowager, I will have some help in this endeavor, for she had quickly seen that Calandra was going to be absolutely no help at all to her. Aurora, on the other hand, would certainly be of value, and, the dowager suspected, probably had an eye for detail.
The following day was Sunday, and they traveled down into Farminster village to church. It was March, and a brisk breeze blew across the fields. Some of the trees were beginning to show signs of leafing, their buds plump and exhibiting green. Here and there, clumps of bright yellow daffodils were in bloom. The coach horses stepped smartly down the road, drawing up before St. Anne"s. A footman jumped down from the rear of the coach where he had been riding, and opening the door, lowered the steps. Holding out his hand, he helped the ladies to exit the vehicle. The gentlemen had ridden, and were even now dismounting.
The dowager led the way, nodding to this side and that as the villagers greeted her, the women curtsying, the men doffing their caps as she and her companions pa.s.sed. Now and then she would stop a moment to greet someone by name. As they reached the porch of the stone church, her sharp eye spied the women she had been seeking.
"Ahhh," the dowager said, smiling toothily, "my dear Lady Bowen. How"d ye do? And your lovely daughters too, I see, and Master William. A lovely day, isn"t it? Have you met my grandson"s wife, the young d.u.c.h.ess?"
Lady Bowen was a tiny, birdlike creature with pale blue eyes and sandy-brown curls. She curtsied. "How nice it is to see your ladyship again," she twittered, for she found the dowager formidable. "No, I haven"t met the d.u.c.h.ess yet." Her eyes darted between the two girls.
Mary Rose Hawkesworth drew Calandra forward. "Calandra, d.u.c.h.ess of Farminster, Lady Elsie Bowen, the vicar"s wife."
Lady Bowen curtsied while Cally nodded coolly as she had seen her London friends do when presented with someone of a lower station.
"And this is the d.u.c.h.ess"s sister, Miss Aurora Spencer-Kimberly," the dowager continued, more pleased when Aurora held out her hand, curtsied prettily, and greeted Lady Bowen politely, than she had been with Calandra"s high tone and slightly insulting manner. She turned, calling, "Valerian, come and bid Lady Bowen a good morning before we go in to services, and bring George." And when the two men came and the duke had done his grandmother"s bidding, the old lady introduced George to the Bowens. First Lady Bowen, and then her son, William, a freckle-faced lad, who if the gossip had it correct was a little h.e.l.lraiser, and his mother"s despair. "And here, dear George, we have Miss Elizabeth, Miss Isabelle, Miss Suzanne, Miss Caroline, and Miss Maryanne Bowen. Such pretty girls, Lady Bowen," she complimented their mother, "and all very accomplished, I am told. You are a fortunate parent indeed, and will certainly find husbands for them all when they are old enough."
"Oh," Lady Bowen twittered, "Betsy is quite old enough now!"
"Is she indeed?" the dowager purred, and then with a nod she beckoned her family into the church.
"Really, Mama!" Elizabeth Bowen was outraged, and not just a trifle embarra.s.sed by her mother"s enthusiasm.
"Well, you are old enough for marriage," her mother protested, "and I am told that Mr. Spencer-Kimberly is looking for a wife. He will return to the western Indies, where he has been raised to continue to manage St. Timothy island plantation when he finds a suitable mate. He has an inheritance and an income, I am told. Would it be so terrible if he found you attractive and offered for you, Betsy?"
"How on earth do you obtain all this information, and so quickly?" Betsy Bowen asked her mother. "Why, the duke and his family only just returned this week to Farminster, Mama."
"I have my sources," her parent replied smugly. "Remember, Betsy, you are not the only eligible in the neighborhood, and I have heard whispers of a ball in May at the hall. A fine young man like Mr. Spencer-Kimberly will be snapped up quickly, my girl, and your dowry is not so large that you can afford to turn up your nose at such a prize."
"Mama! Mama! The organist is about to begin the processional," William Bowen cried to his mother.
"Gracious, thank you, Willie. Come, girls! We are late!" And Lady Bowen, skirts flying, hurried into the church with her family. Quickly taking their places in the front two pews, opposite the duke"s private pew, they took up their hymnals and began to sing. Betsy Bowen could not resist glancing over into the duke"s pew at George. He did look nice, and he had greeted her, and each of her sisters, most politely by name. He didn"t appear at all high-flown or overproud. If only Mama wouldn"t embarra.s.s her by pushing her at him. I had best take matters into my own hands before that happens, she thought to herself.
When the service was over and they walked from the church, Betsy managed to maneuver herself so that she was walking next to George Spencer-Kimberly. "Do you ride, sir?" she asked him. "We have such lovely countryside hereabouts."
"Perhaps you would show it to me," he responded, "if, of course, your parents would permit it, Miss Elizabeth." He liked this girl already. She wasn"t silly or flirtatiously vain like the girls he had met in London. She was straightforward, and looked to be sensible.
"Mama, Mr. Spencer-Kimberly would like to ride with me one morning if he has your permission," Betsy called to her mother.
Lady Bowen was astounded. Good Lord, how had Betsy elicited that invitation? Pray G.o.d she hadn"t been forward, and Mr. Spencer-Kimberly thought her a lightskirt. "I shall have to speak to your papa, Betsy," she told her daughter, and then, "Will you come to tea today, Mr. Spencer-Kimberly? We should be so pleased to receive you. Five o"clock, at the vicarage."
"I should be pleased, ma"am," George answered Lady Bowen.
"Oh, Lord," Betsy muttered beneath her breath.
"I promise not to hold your mama against you, Miss Elizabeth," George murmured with a low chuckle.
Startled, her eyes met his, and Betsy blushed, then said, "You understand, don"t you?"
He nodded. "I have a doting and anxious mama too." Then he bowed to her, tipping his hat. "Until this afternoon," he said.
He is really too good to be true, Betsy thought, amazed at her good fortune. If he really is wonderful, we shall be engaged by the time that ball is held in May, else I lose him to some other girl! She stood watching as George rode off with the duke.
"How did you get him to ask you riding?" her sister Isabelle asked, coming to stand beside Betsy. Isabelle was fifteen. "Mama is ready to have an attack of the vapors, else he think you loose."
"I simply asked if he rode and said we had pretty countryside," Betsy said, linking her arm in Isabelle"s as they walked to the vicarage.
"Do you think I"ll be invited to the duke"s ball?" the younger girl wondered. "Oh, I should so like to go, Betsy! I"ve never been to a ball in my whole life, and it"s bound to be elegant."
"Well," her sister considered, "you will be sixteen on the thirtieth of April, sweeting. If you are included in the invitation, I will take your part with Mama. Papa is always easy to manage."
"Oh, Betsy! You are the very best sister possible!" Isabelle said. Then she waved at the dowager as the ducal coach pa.s.sed by on its way back to the hall.
Mary Rose Hawkesworth waved back. "Pretty chits, aren"t they?" she said to her two companions. "Of course, Isabelle is too young for George, but Elizabeth would be most suitable, and I believe she likes him. Did you notice how cleverly she managed to get him to ask her riding, and now he is to go to tea at the vicarage this afternoon. I am most pleased," she finished, and, smiling, sat back in her seat.
"The church is small," Calandra noted.
"It is a country church, Cally, and quite charming," Aurora said. "Certainly there are none larger on Barbados, I"m certain."
"Who cares about Barbados" was her answer. "We"ve never been anyway, so we cannot know. The churches in London, however, are much bigger than St. Anne"s, and far grander."
"Did you go to services in any of them?" Aurora teased her sister. "I mean, before George and I arrived. In fact, if memory serves me, you did not go with us at all while we were in London."
"You couldn"t expect me to get up and go to church after having been dancing until dawn most nights," Cally said irritably.
"How fortuitous, then, that you shall not have that problem here in the country," the dowager said sharply. "We attend church each Sunday, Calandra. It is up to us to set an example for our people."
"I thought the vicar"s sermon quite good," Aurora said.
"He preaches well," Lady Hawkesworth agreed.
"It was short," Cally said.
Aurora bit her lip to keep from laughing.
The days flew by. Spring had come in all its glory. George had made a success with the Bowens and now rode daily with Betsy, staying away from the hall, and spending more time at the vicarage as the weeks progressed. It was obvious that romance was in the air even if their brother had not said anything yet to confirm their suspicions.
"I think he means to offer for her," Aurora said to Calandra one afternoon as they wrote out the invitations for the ball. "I will miss him when he returns to St. Timothy, won"t you?"
Cally nodded. "We"ve been together our whole lives except for those few months when I first came to England. It will seem strange not seeing George. Will you go too, Aurora? I don"t want you to go. Not now! Especially not now! I couldn"t bear it if you left me alone!"
"Why are you so unhappy?" Aurora asked her sister bluntly.
"It is Valerian," Cally whispered. "He is such a beast! I just want to go back to London, but he will not let me. He makes me perform the act each night. I have told him I don"t want children. I just want to go back to London and have fun!"
"Cally, Cally," her sister chided her. "Children are the fruit of a marriage. If you didn"t want children, you should not have married Valerian. I know your husband is a good man. Give him his children and he will let you return to London for the season."
"I want to live there all the time," Cally said. "And if I hadn"t married him, you would have had to do so. Besides, I wanted to be a d.u.c.h.ess, Aurora, and you didn"t! Oh, why do I even talk to you about this? How can you understand? You are a silly little virgin, but one day you will understand how horrible it is to have a man in your bed, pawing at you, and pushing himself into your body. I hate it!"
Calandra"s face was a mask of revulsion and disgust, and Aurora was hard put not to shiver. "Mama did not seem to mind having Papa in her bed," she said softly.
"Some women like it," Cally said darkly, "but I do not. If I cannot escape this horror soon, I shall go mad."
"If you could just have a child," Aurora said. "I know you would feel different if you had a child of your own, Cally."
The invitations were dispatched, and there was not one refusal. Everyone in the adjoining area was eager to come to Hawkes Hill Hall on May first for the ball being given by the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Farminster. Many of their neighbors had not yet met Calandra, for she had fled back to London soon after arriving in the country the previous year. There had been gossip, however, for everyone had a relation or friend in London society. And then, too, the d.u.c.h.ess had an older brother, and a younger sister, both eligible, and both, if the t.i.ttle-tattle was to be believed, with very nice incomes. It was surprising, however, the scandalmongers chattered, that neither of these siblings had found mates in London. Obviously they were not attractive, or possibly a little too colonial for high society. Such things, of course, could be overlooked by a more practical country lady or gentleman.
Calandra had done little except help with the invitations. Her sole focus had been on the gown she would wear. Aurora had helped the dowager with all the fine details, overseeing the refurbishing of the ballroom, helping to choose the flowers and then working with herself and the housekeeper to arrange them, sending to London for the musicians. The dowager had chosen those fortunate few who would come to dinner; and invited the vicar, Lady Elsie, and their two eldest daughters to stay overnight. George had already informed his benefactress that he intended asking Miss Elizabeth Bowen to be his wife, and the dowager d.u.c.h.ess had already ascertained that the Bowens would approve the match if it pleased their eldest daughter. George would speak to them formally the afternoon of the ball.
As the day of the ball approached, Calandra grew more and more excited. Her gown was finished, and, she declared, was a triumph that would be envied by every one of her female guests. Of rose-colored silk, it had a deeply scooped neckline that would allow her alabaster bosom to swell provocatively. The underskirt was of cloth of gold with embroidered silk roses. Gold lace and silk roses edged the neckline. Gold lace dripped from her sleeves. Her gold kid shoes had pink rosettes on them, and her silk stockings were gold and rose stripes. Her dark hair, with its single elegant curl, would be dressed with fresh roses. She would wear pear-shaped pearl earbobs, and a strand of large pearls about her throat. The pearls dated back to Elizabethan times, and had been hidden away during the Commonwealth era. It was a showy touch, for women in this day wore little jewelry, but Calandra didn"t care. What was jewelry for but to wear. Not keep in some dark vault!
"Isn"t your gown a bit short," Aurora said, noting that the skirt of the ball gown seemed skimpy.
"It is the latest style!" Cally crowed. "A ball gown should come only to the ankle, so one can dance comfortably. We shall be more in style than any of our guests."
"Practical," the dowager said thoughtfully. Then, "A lady does not make her guests feel uncomfortable for any reason, Calandra."
"No, ma"am," Cally replied, flushing with irritation at having been rebuked by the old woman. She fingered the silk on the dress form.
"And what of your gown, child?" the dowager asked Aurora.
Aurora removed the dust sheet from the second form to reveal a gown of aquamarine silk, its chiffon underskirt painted with silver stars. Small silver lace stars decorated the rounded neckline, and the blue-green chiffon and lace sleeves.
"Why, it matches your eyes," the dowager said, delighted. "It is charming. You shall be the two prettiest ladies at the ball, I vow. Do you have the proper panniers and petticoats?"
"Yes, ma"am," Cally responded. "The seamstress brought an excellent selection of both, and we have already chosen."
"And your jewelry, Aurora? What will you wear?"
"Just my little gold chain, ma"am," the girl said.
"I have a pair of aquamarine drops that will be perfect with your gown," the dowager said. "While Calandra will be the finest peahen in the family, you should not appear too plain. After all, we are seeking the proper gentleman for you, am I not correct, Calandra?"
"I certainly agree, ma"am," Cally answered, hiding the jealousy she felt over her husband"s grandmother giving Aurora family jewelry to wear. Still, Aurora should have something. Smiling, she said, "And your gown, ma"am? What have you had made for yourself?"
"Nothing as fine as what you two girls have," the dowager replied. "My gown is of a deep blue silk the seamstress said is called Midnight in Morocco. I do not need to show such fine feathers any longer. After all, I am an old woman," Mary Hawkesworth finished. "I have no desire to catch myself a husband."
The Bowens and their two elder daughters arrived in late morning the day of the ball. The younger daughter was almost ill with excitement.
Aurora immediately took Isabelle in hand. "It"s just a dancing party," she rea.s.sured the girl. "We went to them every night when we were in London. I was constantly exhausted. You will have a marvelous time, I promise you. How pretty you are. You shall take all the beaus, and I am already eighteen. Practically an old maid!"
"Ohhh," Isabelle said, "I am nowhere near as pretty as you are, Miss Spencer-Kimberly. Will you sit with me tonight?"
"Of course," Aurora replied, patting the younger girl"s hand.
"Do you think your brother is going to propose to my sister?" Isabelle asked ingenuously. "My parents have been doing a lot of whispering lately, and grow silent when any of us girls are about. Betsy is quite mad over George, you know, Miss Spencer-Kimberly. I think he is wonderful too. I wish I weren"t just sixteen."
"But you are," Aurora said, "and there is plenty of time for some handsome gentleman to steal your heart, Isabelle. Now, why don"t you call me Aurora." She lowered her voice. "We are almost family."
"We are?" Isabelle squealed, and then she too lowered her voice. "Really? Are you certain? Ohhh, I should adore it!"
"Let us let nature take its course, and allow Betsy to be surprised in her own fashion, Isabelle," Aurora suggested. "Come, you must see the gardens. They are lovely right now. Not as exotic as our gardens in St. Timothy, but beautiful in a different way."