“We are going to be neighbors,” Sirena said happily. “Ocky’s home,”—she blushed—“his papa’s home, I mean, is in Hereford, near Hunter’s Lair. It is called Rose Hall. Isn’t that a lovely name, Rose Hall?”
“Have you decided where to go for your wedding trip?” Allegra inquired curiously.
“We are going to the sea,” the viscount said. “I have cousins with a cottage in Devon. They will be in Kent then at their home, and so they have given us the cottage for as long as we want it. It comes fully staffed. Have you and Quinton discussed your trip, Miss Morgan?”
“We didn’t even get around to discussing the wedding date.” Allegra chuckled. “Lady Bellingham descended upon us like a storm, and decided it all for us. Perhaps tomorrow when Quinton comes to luncheon we will consider it.” Then she patted the viscount upon the arm. “You are marrying my favorite cousin, Ocky. I do think it would be permissible for you to call me by my Christian name.” Then with a smile at them, she departed the garden salon, hurrying upstairs.
Honor brought her mistress her supper upon a tray. Allegra wanted nothing more than to recover from the excitement of the last few days. Her father joined her after he and her aunt had dined with Sirena and Ocky.
“Are you all right, my child?” Lord Morgan asked his daughter.
“Just tired, Papa,” she responded with a small yawn.
“Are you happy?” he said.
Allegra thought a moment, then answered, “I am not unhappy, Papa. The duke is a pleasant and most agreeable fellow. I am very anxious to see Hunter’s Lair.” She yawned again.
“It is not as large as Morgan Court, my dear, but its lineage is most impressive. And, of course, it has more lands than the court,” her father answered. “I am going to leave my home to your second son, Allegra. I hope you will approve.”
“I am not yet wed, Papa,” she replied, “and you already have me producing two sons. What of my daughters?”
“The daughters of a duke with Quinton Hunter’s bloodline, and the dowries you will be able to give them, will have no difficulties in finding mates. It is the sons who come after the first son who need to find a place in this world. Therefore your second son shall have Morgan Court when I die one day. If there are other boys, we shall manage to provide for them, I promise you, my child.”
“What if you remarry, Papa? Would you dispossess your widow?”
“Allegra…,” he began, and then stopped.
“You love my aunt, Papa.” She took his hand in hers. “She has been widowed for several years now. There is nothing to prevent you from asking her to be your wife. Both Sirena and I fully approve, Papa,” Allegra said quietly.
“Do you?” he replied, his look suddenly amused.
“We do, Papa,” Allegra told him seriously, releasing the hand.
“And do you think your aunt would accept an offer of marriage from me? We have been good friends formany years. Perhaps that is all she is willing to give of herself. I should dislike to spoil the friendship I have with Olympia.”
“You will never know, Papa, unless you ask her,” Allegra told him wisely. “I am virtually gone from Morgan Court. Do you really think my aunt would prefer the little dower house at Rowley to being the undisputed mistress of Morgan Court? Sirena and I have often spoken on it. We want you happy together.”
“But what if she saysnoto me, my child?” he worried.
“Isnosuch a terrible word, Papa?” Allegra replied.
“As I recall you seemed to think so when you were a little girl,” her father teased her. He arose from her bedside where he had been sitting. “Get your rest now, Allegra. Sirena’s wedding is but nine days away, and then we shall return home.”
“You will ask Aunt Olympia before we leave London?” she queried him.
“I will think on it, Allegra,” and bending, he gave her a kiss upon her forehead. Then he left the room.
His daughter’s words had made a strong impression upon Septimius Morgan. While he was delighted with his daughter’s engagement, and her bright future, the thought of spending the rest of his life alone had been a bleak one. Was Allegra right? Would Olympia accept an offer of marriage from him? Entering his library he found the object of his thoughts sitting by the fire. She looked up and smiled.
“I hope you do not mind my being here, Septimius. Sirena and her beloved are billing and cooing in the salon. I very much felt like a fifth wheel, I fear.”
“Shall I pour you a sherry?” he asked her, and when she nodded he filled two glasses upon the tray and brought her one. Then he sat in the tapestried backed chair opposite her. “We shall both soon be alone,Olympia,” he remarked tentatively. “Morgan Court is such a large place for just one man, and the dower house at Rowley is much too small.”
“Yes, it is,” she replied.
“I should not like to spoil our friendship, Olympia, but perhaps we might take a suggestion that Allegra assures me both she and Sirena approve. Perhaps we should marry.”
“To whom?” Lady Abbott asked him, but her heart was fluttering.
