Deceived. Bertrice Small

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 duchess! 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, “Damnation!” 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 duchess!

      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 outshine 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 ship slowly making its way toward the docks. St. Timothy had a deep water mooring, and a ship could come close to the shore, unlike other islands, where the ships had to moor in the harbors itself and the passengers 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