Deceived. Bertrice Small

will not know until the child is born,” her mother said.

      “Now, Calandra, Aurora, I think you have more than enough information. It is time for you to go to sleep. Tomorrow is a very important day for you, Calandra. You will marry, and you will leave St. Timothy as the Duchess of Farminster. You must get your rest.”

      “Let Aurora stay for a while,” Cally asked her mother. “It is the last night we will have each other’s company for a long time, and when we meet again, everything will be different.”

      Oralia nodded, understanding, and then, standing up, she left the room. She and Robert had been so fortunate in their marriage and in their children. She wanted that for both of the girls.

      When she had gone, Cally said, “I wonder what part of me he will stroke.” Then she giggled nervously. “It is all quite silly.”

      “Men, I have noted, have an appreciation of women’s breasts. Perhaps he will stroke your breasts,” Aurora said. “Have you ever touched yourself, Cally?”

      “Have you?”

      Aurora nodded. Then she undid the ribbons on her nightgown, exposing her upper torso to her sister’s view. “Undo yours,” she commanded.

      Cally complied with the request. “I’ve never done this before,” she whispered. “Is it naughty?”

      “Probably,” Aurora responded, her hands cupping her round little breasts. “Do what I do, Cally.”

      Cally’s bosom was only slightly larger than her sister’s. Her breasts were cone-shaped, and had large nipples. Shyly, she slipped her hands beneath them, all the while watching as Aurora began to rub her nipples with her thumbs. Cally followed suit. Her nipples grew hard beneath her touch, but she felt more irritation than anything else. Aurora, however, closed her eyes and sighed. She slipped one hand down her body, pushing her nightgown away, until her fingers were lost in the tight curls of her bush. Cally watched wide-eyed as Aurora thrust a finger between the folds of flesh and began to rub herself.

      “What are you doing?” she said, half shocked.

      “You do it too,” her sister said softly. “Ummmm, it feels so good. If this is what a man does to you, I can hardly wait to marry!”

      “I cannot do that,” Cally protested, but she was fascinated.

      “Yes…you can,” Aurora murmured. “Oh! Oh! Oh! That was so nice, Cally. Go ahead! Try it. You’ll feel so good afterward!”

      Nervously, Calandra followed her sister’s instructions. Soon her body began to tingle in a way she had never known before, and she did not think she liked it. Her fingers were slickly sticky with some kind of juice her body seemed to be emitting. Then she gave a little shudder. “Ohhh!” she cried. “Ohhhh!”

      “There now, wasn’t that nice?” Aurora said mischievously.

      “I don’t think I liked it at all,” Cally said, arising from the bed where they were both sitting to wash her fingers off. “How did you ever learn such a thing?” She scrubbed her hand fiercely.

      Aurora shrugged. “I don’t really know. I just did it one day, and I liked it. Valerian will probably touch you that way. I think the gooey fluid that comes from that place is what Mama meant when she said he would prepare you for his entry. I imagine the appendage goes in far more easily when it is greased than if you were dry.”

      “I think it is nasty, and I shall not do it!” Cally said.

      “Oh, don’t be silly, Cally. Of course you’ll do it. You have to if you’re going to have a baby, and, as Mama says, it’s your first duty to the Hawkesworth family to give them an heir. You’ll probably like it better when Valerian does it to you. Has he kissed you yet?”

      “I wouldn’t let him,” Cally said.

      “Well, you’ll have to after the wedding,” Aurora told her sister in practical tones. Then she arose from the bed, retying her nightgown. “I’m off for bed, sweeting. Happy dreams, little sister. I will miss you. See you on the morrow.”

      “Aurora!”

      She turned.

      “I love you!” Cally said.

      “I love you too,” Aurora replied, and then left her sister.

      In the downstairs foyer Calandra’s trunks sat waiting. The wedding would be first thing in the morning, when the Royal George arrived. Then the newlyweds and their two servants would depart for England after a wedding breakfast. The minister would be returned to Barbados by means of a St. Timothy boat, and the day would progress just like any other day on the island, except that Cally would be gone.

      The household was up early. The baths were filled, and all involved bathed. Tea was brought to each bedroom. Cally’s maid, Sally, was so sick with her excitement that she vomited twice.

      “What’s the matter with you?” Martha asked the younger woman.

      “I’m going ’ome!” Sally said. “I’m going to see England again, and be personal maid to a duchess!” Sally’s term of bondage had ended several years earlier. She had always been homesick for England, but had never had the means to return. She had been transported for debt. The only means of support she had was here with Calandra. Now she had been asked to accompany her mistress, and she was thrilled. “Don’t tell me, Martha ’enry, that you won’t be ’appy to see England again.”

      “You ain’t going to remain personal maid to a duchess long if you don’t put those H’s back on your words, Sally me girl,” Martha told the younger woman sternly. “I thought we had learned you better these past ten years. A duchess’s servant got to talk more posh. You want to end up back in the same London slum from where you came?”

      “Gawd, no!” Sally exclaimed. She looked worried. “Maybe I ought to stay put right here on St. Timothy.”

      “Don’t be a ninny,” Martha said. “Just remember to speak careful, and learn everything you can from the Hawkesworth family servants. You’ve got the next couple of weeks to make friends, and ask questions of Browne, the duke’s valet. And by make friends I don’t mean you should go and seduce the poor fellow. And if anyone should question your authority, and try and steal your place, just remember to be tough and remind ’em that you’ve been with her grace since she was a child. Few will challenge an association like that. Be pleasant, but don’t trust anyone until you got a real good lay of the land. The dowager duchess will have a favorite serving woman. Make friends with her and defer to her judgment. With a strong ally like that, you ain’t got nothing to worry about.”

      “Oh, Martha! I’m going to miss you!” Sally’s plain face was woebegone. Her gray eyes were teary.

      “Go on with you,” Martha said gruffly, but she was feeling a bit weepy too. When Sally departed, she would have no close woman friend of her own class. But it was only for a little while, she reminded herself. Her eye went to the windows, and then she said, “Look out in the harbor. The Royal George is sailing in, and the bride not ready!”

      Cally’s wedding gown was brought forth. It was a beautiful garment of cream-colored satin. The round neckline was edged in matching lace that matched the engageants falling from the three-quarter sleeves. The skirt opened in the front to reveal a brocade underskirt embroidered in a delicate floral pattern with gold thread. The skirt was gathered full at the hips with flounces and ruches, and lay over its underskirt and several stiffened petticoats. Calandra’s dark hair was gathered into a chignon, and one long curl was coaxed to lie over her left shoulder. She wore no jewelry except for pear-shaped pearl earbobs and a small gold cross on a fine gold chain. Carefully she slipped her stocking feet into low-heeled cream brocade shoes with small gold rosettes. Then she looked at herself in the long mirror.

      Calandra Hawkesworth. It had a noble ring to it. Calandra, Duchess of Farminster, she thought, and preened before the glass. Yes. She looked like a duchess. She was going to be a great success