Deceived. Part 2

The seaman shook his head. "Nay, your grace. St. Timothy was Kimberly and Meredith property. They grow sugar cane, and nothing else is done with the land. Besides, who would live here, and what sort of business could a man employ his time with on an island like this? Other than the family, and a few bond servants, there are only blacks."

The duke nodded in response and gazed out over the blue-green sea. The island was beautiful, but was it profitable? Was this Kimberly girl really a good match? His grandmother has a.s.sumed that the Kimberlys were rich, but were they? The island's whole subsistence depended upon a good sugar crop. He would, he decided, want to go over the books, and speak with Mr. Kimberly as soon as possible. If the plantation did not make an excellent profit, they must consider the possibility of a cash dower. The s.h.i.+p entered the bay. He could see the warehouses and docks along the sh.o.r.e.

"Do they s.h.i.+p their sugar to England from here?" he asked Captain Conway.

"They s.h.i.+p to Barbados, and from there to England. The cargo s.h.i.+ps can't be bothered with a small island like this one, and don't call. It's the same all over the Indies, but St. Timothy is in an excellent location, your grace. It can s.h.i.+p cheaper than the plantations in Jamaica because the trade winds blow more convenient here than there."

"I can see I have a great deal to learn," the duke replied.

"Do you intend remaining here, then, your grace?" That would certainly be odd, the captain thought, unless, of course, this n.o.bleman had murdered someone and needed to be out of England for a time.

"No, but if this plantation is to come to me through my bride, sir, it would be advisable for me to know about how it is run. I would not like to lose Miss Kimberly's dowry through ignorance or carelessness. I do not run my stud farms like that, and I will certainly not allow this plantation to be run that way."

Interesting, the captain thought. A milord who actually involved himself in the making of money. "You will have no difficulty then, your grace," Captain Conway said. "St. Timothy is run by Mr. Kimberly himself, aided by his stepson, Mr. George Spencer-Kimberly, a fine young man, I can tell you." He bowed to the duke. "You will excuse me, your grace. I must go and see to our landing."

The duke bowed in return, and watched the captain hurry off. Miss Kimberly had a stepbrother who helped run the plantation. Well, if he did indeed prove to be a fine young man, and he was interested in remaining on St. Timothy, there would be nothing to worry about when his father-in-law went to his reward many years hence. I wonder, Valerian Hawkesworth thought to himself, what kind of an income Kimberly has settled on my bride in the years until she comes into her inheritance.

His eyes went to the large house upon the crest of a high hill overlooking the harbor. It was very white, and appeared to be open in front. It was a style of architecture with which he was unfamiliar. It didn't look like any house he had ever seen. He would be interested to see it close up. The low boom of a cannon startled him.

"Not to worry, yer grace," his cabin steward told him, coming to the duke's side. "It's just that little gun of ours letting yer in-laws know yer here. Not that yer young lady isn't watching us from her window right now, for I'll wager she is," he chuckled broadly.

"They're here!" Calandra shrieked excitedly. "Did you hear the arrival cannon? Look! Down in the harbor! The Royal George is sailing in right now! Oh, I think I am going to swoon! My duke is here! He's here!" She collapsed into a chair, fanning herself with her handkerchief. "I do not think I can bear the excitement!"

"I am not going to allow you three to bully me," Oralia Kimberly said, but there was no iron in her voice. "You cannot do this! It is dishonest, and it is wrong! George!" She appealed to her son.

"I am sorry, Mama, but we have been over and over this for the last month. Cally will marry the duke. It is the only way. If you attempt to tell the duke the truth, I shall say Papa's death unhinged you and you do not know your own stepdaughter, or daughter, any longer. Then we will lock you away until the duke and Cally are wed and departed for England. Now, I must go down to the docks to greet our guest." He turned on his heel and left her.

"You are cruel, George!" she cried after him, but Oralia knew it was no use. The three young people had decided a course of action between them, and they would follow it through. If she interfered, George was quite capable of following through on his threat; and even if the duke believed her, Aurora was equally capable of telling him that she didn't want to marry him. Then where would they all be?

Aurora caught Calandra's eye. Her look plainly said, See! I told you we would win. "Come, little sister," she said sweetly, "you cannot greet your duke looking like that. We'll have to hurry. Will you excuse us, Mama?"

Oralia waved them away. "Yes, yes," she said. She needed time to compose herself, for while this deception might not distress her children, she was quite upset by their actions. If only Robert had not died, she thought despairingly for the thousandth time in the last four weeks. But Robert was dead. She had no choice but to follow her children's lead. Perhaps they were right. What real harm was there in what they were doing? Would it not be wickeder to force Aurora into a marriage she didn't want? Especially when Calandra was so willing to take her place? Her daughter a d.u.c.h.ess! Oralia bit her lip in vexation. No! They were wrong! But there was no help for it. What would Robert think of all of this? She shuddered. She knew what Robert would think, but, "d.a.m.nation!" the word slipped out, Robert wasn't here, and it had always been next to impossible for her to control the three children. Robert had been the one to do that, and now he was gone from her side, leaving her to cope with an impossible situation. I will not cry, Oralia thought desperately. Calandra a d.u.c.h.ess!

Upstairs the two girls and their servants were all hurrying to get ready for the Duke of Farminster's arrival. Calandra bathed in her tub, behind a painted screen. The air was heavy with her favorite scent, a mixture of tuberose and gardenia. Sally, her personal maid, was, under Aurora's direction, laying out her young mistress's clothing. Finally satisfied with her selection, Aurora withdrew to her own bedroom to change her clothing.

"Yer a fool, and yer papa would be furious if he knew what you was doing," her servant, Martha, said. "There is still time to change yer mind, Mistress Aurora. A man is a man, and while some are better than the others, in the end they're all alike, I say."

"Martha, do not scold me over this," Aurora replied. "I really don't want to marry anyone at this time. Even if this duke were willing to wait a year or two, what if I don't like him? No, this is a better solution all around, for me, for Cally, for all of us."

"And what if you do like him?" Martha demanded.

"I hope I shall like him as a brother-in-law, as a friend, but now that he is to be my sister's husband, there is no chance of anything else, Martha. Certainly you understand that."

The servant pursed her lips in mute disapproval. She had come to St. Timothy as a bondswoman shortly after Aurora's birth. Because she was not a criminal, and because she was mannerly, Emily Kimberly had purchased her to care for her newborn daughter. Martha's offense in the eyes of English law was that she was poor. When her parents had died she had been evicted from the family cottage by their landlord. It had been the local vicar who had suggested she indenture herself for a period of seven years, and give herself a chance at a better life in the new world. Martha had followed his advice, putting herself into the hands of the vicar's brother, a decent man who saw his bondspeople placed with good families who would not abuse them. She had served as Aurora's nanny when she was a child, and remained on when her term of servitude ended, as a free woman and Aurora's personal servant.

"I've set out a fresh gown for you," she told her young mistress.

"Oh, don't be cross with me, Martha," Aurora said, hugging the older woman. "It really is all for the best, you know."

Martha shook the girl off. "Now, don't you go thinking you can wheedle me like you can Mistress Oralia and Master George, because you can't. If your papa were here, you would have to do what you was told, and no nonsense about it. Now, go wash. I put your basin and sponge in the dressing room. I've set out that pretty blue-gray cotton gown for you to wear like you said. Even with those lovely lace engageants, it's too plain. I don't know why you want to wear it to meet this duke."

"Because I don't want to outs.h.i.+ne Calandra," Aurora said. "We want the duke's whole attention upon her today."

"You had best tell her not to giggle so much," Martha remarked sourly. "It makes her sound like a little fool, not that she ain't for going along with you in this foolishness."

Aurora hid her smile as she entered the dressing room. The window at its end looked out on the bay, and she could see the s.h.i.+p slowly making its way toward the docks. St. Timothy had a deep water mooring, and a s.h.i.+p could come close to the sh.o.r.e, unlike other islands, where the s.h.i.+ps had to moor in the harbors itself and the pa.s.sengers or goods ferried to and fro. Slipping out of her gown, she sponged herself off with the perfumed water Martha had set out. Then, drying herself, she put on the blue-gray cotton gown with its round scooped neckline, and graceful skirts that fell over her stiffened petticoats. The lace engageants, or ruffles, fell from her three-quarter sleeves.

"Come and fasten me up, Martha," she called. Then she gazed at her image in the long mirror. Her skin had a faint golden and rosy look to it that set off her aquamarine-blue eyes and brown-gold hair. While she protected herself from the sun most of the time, she was not fanatic about her skin like Calandra. Calandra was inordinately proud of her marble-white skin which she went to great lengths to protect, never going out in the sunlight without a broad-brimmed hat upon her head, her arms covered, lace mittens upon her hands. Aurora had to admit, however, that the fair skin, hazel eyes, and black hair Calandra possessed made quite a striking appearance.

"Come along, miss," Martha said, interrupting Aurora's thoughts, "come, and let me do your hair proper."

Proper to Martha meant an elegant little chignon in the back of Aurora's head, and two ringlets apiece upon either side of her face. Calandra favored the chignon, and a single long ringlet on the left side of her face, convinced that her left side was her better profile, and needed attention drawn to it. Calandra was sweet but vain, Aurora thought to herself. She's just what I imagine a d.u.c.h.ess should be. Her eyes strayed again to the windows of her bedroom, and she wished that she had a spygla.s.s to seek out George as he greeted the duke.

George Spencer-Kimberly watched as the Royal George was made fast to the docks, and when the gangway was lowered he hurried up it. "Captain Conway, it's good to see you again, sir! You've brought a pa.s.senger for us, I believe." His eyes strayed to the tall gentleman by the captain's side. Black hair. Black, no, dark blue eyes. Rugged features. Hard body. Not quite what he had been expecting in an English duke. He had thought a softer type, but this man did not look soft. For a brief moment George Spencer-Kimberly reconsidered the deception about to be played on this man and wondered if it was wise, but it was too late to turn back now.

"Aye, Mr. Kimberly," the captain said. "I've your pa.s.senger for you, sir. I would have thought your father would be here to greet him."

"My father pa.s.sed away unexpectedly the day after Christmas," George replied. "A sudden burst of thunder, and a lightning bolt too near his horse. The beast reared up, throwing Papa, killing him instantly."

" 'Pon my soul!" the captain exclaimed. "What a tragedy!" Then, remembering his duty, he said, "Mr. Kimberly, may I present to you, his grace, the Duke of Farminster. Your grace. Mr. George Spencer-Kimberly."

The two men shook hands, the duke taking in the measure of the young man before him. Not quite his own height. Stocky. Pleasant-looking with blue eyes and brown hair. A firm handshake, the hands slightly callused. No idler this young fellow.

"Mr. Kimberly, allow me to present my condolences to you. Had I but known of your loss, I should have delayed my journey," Valerian Hawkesworth said politely.

"Since we knew nothing of you, your grace, prior to your grandmother's letter, we could not have stopped you," George replied, his eyes twinkling with ill-disguised humor. "Were you yourself aware of your, um, obligation to my sister?"

The duke laughed, appreciating the younger man's wit. "No, sir, I was as taken aback by the situation as I have no doubt your sister was. Am I right?"

George nodded with a grin. "There is a cart for your man and your baggage. I brought a horse for you, sir. We can talk as we ride up to the house together."

"Agreed!" the duke responded, then he turned and spoke to his valet, instructing him as if the man had not already heard George. When he had finished he said to Captain Conway, "You will stop to board my bride and myself when you return to England as we discussed?"

"Aye, sir," the captain replied. " 'Twill be in two and a half weeks. If there's any delay, I get a message to you."

The two men departed the vessel.

Unable to help himself, George said, "You don't intend remaining long on St. Timothy, do you? I think Mama will be quite distressed."

"The Royal George is the finest pa.s.senger s.h.i.+p traveling between England and these islands, Mr. Kimberly. I do not wish Charlotte's wedding voyage to be less than comfortable. If we do not return to England on its return trip, we shall have to wait several months for it to come again. I believe at that point we shall be facing your stormy season. I would not distress your mother, but I think it best my bride and I leave as soon as we can." The duke swung himself into the saddle, gathering the reins into his hand.

"I think," said George as he mounted his own horse, "that I should explain to you that my stepsister is not known as Charlotte. She is known by her second name, Calandra."

"Why?" Valerian Hawkesworth asked.

"When our mother married our stepfather, Cally and Mama's daughter were just under three years of age. Both had been christened with the same first name, Charlotte. Our parents decided that the girls would be known by their second names, Calandra and Aurora. That is why the marriage contract, at least our copy, gives the bride's name only as Charlotte," George finished, tensing just slightly as he waited for the duke's comment.

"Indeed," the duke said dryly. "So my bride is known as Calandra? 'Tis an elegant name. Is she an elegant girl, Mr. Kimberly?"

"My stepsister is certainly an attractive girl, and I suppose with the right gowns and hairstyles she might be elegant one day, but Cally is just an innocent island maiden. You will have to be the judge of that, your grace."

"You will call me Valerian, and I will call you George, sir," the duke answered him. "And what is your sister like?"

"A pretty chit," George said. "Aurora is a law unto herself though." He chuckled.

The horses moved up from the harbor along the dusty dirt road to the house on the hillside. Now the duke could see the building better. The open front was in reality a s.p.a.cious veranda. The ground floor windows were long. All the windows belonging to the house had heavy wooden shutters on either side of them. To protect them in the fierce storms he had heard about from Captain Conway undoubtedly. On either side of the roadway the land was thick and lush with green growth such as he had never seen. Vines entwined with brightly colored flowers attracted his eyes. The trees were filled with scarlet, green, blue, and gold birds of a most exotic nature. The heat was pleasant, but he had never before known anything like it, and the winds that seemed to constantly blow were softer, sweeter, and had just a hint of dampness.

"Is your manager, and your overseer satisfactory?" the duke asked George. "How have you managed since your stepfather's death?"

"My father," George replied, "ran St. Timothy himself. He didn't approve of those men who allowed others to handle their affairs, leaving them free to pursue a life of pleasure. I was five and a half when we first came here from Jamaica. On my sixth birthday my father took me out with him when he made his rounds. I went with him every day after that. I am nineteen now, and have been handling the plantation's books ever since I ceased my formal education at the age of sixteen. My father meant for me to eventually run St. Timothy in its entirety. With his death, however, the owners.h.i.+p pa.s.sed to Cally, and will pa.s.s to you upon your marriage to my stepsister. If you wish to bring your own man to take over the running of the plantation, I will give him my full cooperation, Valerian. You have my word on it."

"There is no need for a stranger to be introduced here, George," the duke responded. "I will never live here, for my life is in England, but I agree with your father in the matter of absentee owners.h.i.+p of an estate. I would like you to remain here, if it pleases you, to run the plantation as your father did. When I have gone over the books, we will decide upon a fair rate of remuneration for your services. After all, you will one day want to take a wife, and will need to support her. The plantation will one day become the property of one of the children Calandra and I produce. Perhaps a second son would favor it. We will both rest easy knowing St. Timothy is in good hands. Do you think this arrangement will be satisfactory to you?"

"Aye, Valerian!" George said enthusiastically. This was really working out quite well, he thought to himself, pleased, and Mama would be delighted to know she should not be discommoded in any way. "There is one thing you should know," George continued. "The old Meredith plantation house, which is located on the other side of the island. It came to Papa through his second wife, Emily Meredith. Papa left it to Aurora along with an income. There is no real land with it. Only the land upon which the house sits, but Papa thought she would want her own home should she marry one day. Her inheritance, and her income along with the house, make her a good choice for a respectable young man of good family. Mama is sending her to England with you and Cally."

A husband-hunting sister-in-law? Valerian Hawkesworth frowned. He did not need or want such an enc.u.mbrance on his honeymoon voyage home. "I shall speak to your mama about that," he said. "Of course Miss Spencer-Kimberly will be welcome at Hawkes Hill."

They rode up the driveway to the house, where two young men hurried up to take their mounts.

"Your servants are not black?" The duke was curious.

"Our house servants are bondsmen and bondswomen. Mama prefers it that way. Few leave us when their term of servitude is up. We have slaves peopling the fields and the sugar house. I have also trained several intelligent blacks as foremen, and clerks to work with me. They are most trustworthy men. We do not mistreat our people as so many others do. My father would have freed his slaves if he could have. Since he could not afford to do so, he did the next best thing. He treated them with humanity and kindness."

"We will speak of this later," the duke said, brus.h.i.+ng the dust from his breeches and coat.

"Come into the house, Valerian," George said, leading the way.

The foyer was high-ceilinged and cool, the duke found. The woodwork was all white, as were the walls. It was very inviting. He followed George into a bright room with yellow and white striped wallpaper. The furniture was beautifully carved and fas.h.i.+oned mahogany, the chair and settee seats neatly caned. There were no draperies on the long windows, only tiers of mahogany shutters. The wide pine plank floors were covered with a large and beautiful blue and beige Oriental carpet, one of the finest he had ever seen. Three ladies awaited them. The elder, gowned in black silk and white lace, arose, smiling.

"Valerian, may I present my mother, Oralia Kimberly," George said politely. "Mama, the Duke of Farminster."

Oralia held out her hand to be kissed, and then, withdrawing it, said, "You are welcome to St. Timothy, your grace." The hand gestured. "My daughters."

His dark blue eyes quickly swept over the two girls. One wore a simple gown of blue-gray, and her look was almost bold. The other was gowned in white silk with pink painted rosebuds. She did not look at him, but rather blushed prettily as Oralia drew her up.

"This is your betrothed, your grace, my stepdaughter, Charlotte Calandra Kimberly," she said. "Greet the duke, my child," she gently pressed the girl. "He has come a long way for this moment."

Calandra looked up, her dainty pink mouth making a tiny "O" of pleasure as she gazed upon the man who was to be her husband. He was divinely handsome! She held out her hand, saying in a soft voice, "How do you do, sir. I bid you welcome to St. Timothy's." And she curtsied.

He took her hand in his. It was an elegant little hand. Then, slowly raising it to his lips, his eyes locking onto hers, he kissed it. "Your brother tells me that you prefer being called by your second name, Miss Kimberly. Calandra, d.u.c.h.ess of Farminster, has a pleasing ring to it, do you not think?" And he smiled warmly at her.

I shall swoon, Cally thought, but then Aurora pinched her, and she drew in a breath, saying in what she hoped was a detached voice, "It does when you say it, your grace. Since I have learned of our betrothal, I have not dared to even think of it. It was all such a surprise."

"For me also," the duke replied, "but now that I stand in your exquisite presence, I am no longer surprised, simply overwhelmed by the beauty that is to be mine."

"Ohhh," Cally gasped, the giggle she had been about to utter destroyed by Aurora's relentless pinching fingers.

"And may I present my daughter, Aurora, your grace," Oralia said, taking advantage of Calandra's speechlessness to bring the other girl forward in front of the duke.

Aurora looked him straight in the eye, saying, "Sir, I echo my sister's welcome to St. Timothy."

He kissed her hand too, replying, "I thank you, Miss Spencer-Kimberly. I confess that had I been presented with the both of you and told to choose a bride, I should be hard pressed to do so."

"How fortunate it is, then, sir, that you do not have to choose. The choice had been made for you, is that not easier," Aurora said.

"You are quick-spoken, Miss Spencer-Kimberly," he replied.

"Indeed, sir, I am," she answered, not in the least quelled. Arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d, she thought. I was right to foist him off on Cally. She will be the perfect complacent little wife for him.

"Come and sit by me, your grace," Oralia said, gaining hold of the situation before it got out of hand. "Was your voyage a pleasant one? George, ask Hermes to bring us some refreshment. We make a lovely drink with our own rum and fruit juice," she told the duke, smiling. Oralia patted the place beside her on the settee as she seated herself. She then nodded to Calandra to seat herself on the other side of the duke.

The young girl was trembling with excitement. Aurora bent and murmured softly into her sister's ear, "Calm yourself, Cally. He is, after all, only a man. And try not to giggle."

Calandra nodded. She could not take her eyes from the duke's face. He was so handsome! She would wager a sugar crop that Aurora was sorry now for switching places with her. This man, of course, would want children, but she would deal with that eventually. She could have children. She concentrated on the positive. She was amazed that fortune had smiled on her in this manner. And for the first time in their lives, she felt genuinely sorry for Aurora. To have so carelessly given up a duke!

Hermes arrived with a silver tray, bringing with him lemonade for the two girls, and rum and fruit punch for the others. The duke remarked, surprised, that the beverage was cool.

"There is a stream that runs by the kitchen house," Cally told him breathlessly, eager to join the conversation between her mother and the duke. "Jugs of rum and fruit juices as well as milk and cream are kept there to cool. St. Timothy is a well-run plantation."

"So I have noticed, Miss Kimberly," he replied. "Perhaps tomorrow you will ride out with me and show me the estate."

Cally's pretty face fell. "I do not ride well," she said.

"George and Aurora will show you the island," Oralia said quickly. "Calandra must avoid the sun, for her skin is delicate, and has always been so. Not my chicks, however."

"In England the sun is not as strong," Valerian Hawkesworth said. "I will help you to improve your riding skills, Miss Kimberly, and we shall ride to the hunt together. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes!" Cally said enthusiastically, thinking silently she would rather die than be bounded all over the English countryside on the back of a nasty horse.

Aurora swallowed back a guffaw. Cally was afraid of horses and always had been. Riding was pure torture for her. She hated it. Well, the duke would learn that soon enough, but Aurora doubted he would be too disappointed, for in the long run Cally would make him an excellent wife. That was all he really wanted. A pleasant companion and a good breeder. That was what all men wanted. Or so her father had always said, and when he did so in Oralia's presence she would look sad. Papa and her stepmother had lost two sons before the doctor who had once lived on the island in their employ had said she could try no more else the next pregnancy kill her. He had gone back to England shortly after that, having taught one of the bondsmen and a slave man enough of his skills to be of service to the inhabitants of St. Timothy.

"Aurora is a fine horsewoman," she heard Mama say. "I would like her to travel to England with you and Calandra so she may experience society, and perhaps find a husband of her own. She has a fine dowry, your grace, and is, as you see, a pretty young girl. She will be company for Calandra, and a comfort, too, as my daughter has never been off this island in her entire life, and is apt to be frightened."

"You will call me Valerian, ma'am," he began. "While Miss Aurora is certainly more than welcome at Hawkes Hill, and my grandmother will be more than delighted to take her entrance into society upon herself, I would prefer that your daughter travel to England on the vessel following the Royal George. The return to England will be our honeymoon voyage, and you will understand that I prefer to make that trip in the company of my bride alone. I shall not allow Calandra to be afraid, ma'am, but we must have time to get to know each other."

"Can you not do that over the next few months here on St. Timothy?" Oralia asked him. "You will certainly be given your privacy, Valerian."

George caught Aurora's eye, and waited for the duke to answer.

"I intend returning to England almost immediately, ma'am," the duke replied. "The Royal George is the finest pa.s.senger s.h.i.+p making the trip between England and the western Indies. If we do not board it on its eastbound return, we shall have to wait for several months to catch it again. By that time your stormy season will be upon us. This is an excellent time of year to travel this particular route, and I want Calandra's ocean voyage to be a perfect one. The Royal George will stop at St. Timothy in two and a half weeks' time to pick us up. I have previously arranged with Captain Conway to bring the Anglican minister from Barbados with him. He will marry Calandra and me that same day here in this house. I will then rely upon your kindness to return the minister to Barbados even as we sail for England."

"Oh, my!" Oralia said, distressed by his words.

He was sooo masterful, Cally thought admiringly of the duke.

"I realize that this comes as somewhat of a shock, ma'am, but you must know that I knew nothing of this marriage until shortly after my grandfather's death last autumn. I do not want to miss the racing season. England will be coming into summer, which while nowhere near as warm as here, will give Calandra a chance to grow used to our climate before the winter. It will also give me the opportunity to introduce Calandra into society. The Prince of Wales is a fine fellow, and there has been talk recently of his marrying. There will be much gaiety, and Calandra will enjoy it until such time as she is with child."

"She hasn't a proper wardrobe," Oralia protested. "There has been virtually no time to prepare a trousseau."