Page 10 of His Darling Duchess
Lying alone in bed with only the firelight illuminating her bedroom, it felt suddenly too much. Her breathing came faster, her heart pounding in her chest, and she could feel a screambuilding which would surely bring the entire household running if she let it out.
Shaking in every limb, Aurelia suddenly realised she was still clutching Stowe’s now-damp handkerchief in her hand. Pressing it to her face, she breathed in that faint tang of cedar and bitter oranges, once again finding it comforted her, stilling her racing heart.
A scratch at the door made her lift her head, and then the door creaked open slightly.
“Aur? Can we come in?”
Her sisters didn’t wait for a response, slipping in and closing the door before racing over and clambering into bed beside her.
Sixteen-year-old Ophelia and thirteen-year-old Viola, the most beloved people in Aurelia’s world. Suddenly feeling desperate to protect them, she wrapped an arm around each and hugged them close.
“Aur, you’re shaking!” Ophelia gasped. “You’re back so early, and Mama’s crying in her sitting-room, whatever’s happened?”
“Did you meet a rake?” Viola asked in shocked tones, that obviously being the worst thing she could possibly imagine.
Aurelia suddenly felt very old. Cuddling Viola closer, she kissed her brow. “Much worse than that, I’m afraid,” she whispered, her voice croaky with unshed tears, and from somewhere she found the strength to explain what had happened, how she had trusted blindly and paid the price, because she would not leave her innocent sisters unprotected against the dangers she now knew existed.
“I’m so sorry,” she said when she’d finished and the three sisters were all clinging tightly together. “I’ve ruined everything.”
“No!” Ophelia cried in denial.
“Why, that beast Grantleigh! I hope Father calls him out and shoots him dead!” Viola sounded rather as though she’d quite like to shoot Grantleigh herself.
“Don’t say that, Vi, for Lord Grantleigh might shoot Father and then where would we be?” Ophelia argued, ever practical.
“Don’t speak of it, please,” Aurelia begged, unable to bear the thought. She clung forlornly to the promise the duke had made her as he pressed his handkerchief into her hands, that he would make everything come out all right.
Just then she couldn’t quite see how that would be, but something about Stowe inspired trust.
Cuddled in the loving arms of her sisters, Aurelia finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Five
Lady Lymsey had weatheredpolitical scandals aplenty, lost three of her seven children to childhood ailments and even once coolly faced down with a pistol a French spy who was attempting to kidnap her to use as leverage against her husband.
She had never been so shocked in her life as when her husband finally arrived home and told her and a very impatient Louis the whole story, or at least the story as far as the Duke of Stowe had relayed it.
“You think Stowe was telling the truth?” Lady Lymsey recovered enough to ask while her son was still standing in the middle of the room, his mouth wide open.
“I think he had no reason to lie,” Lymsey said, “and no time to pressure Aurelia into joining him in the lie. Grantleigh’s absence for the rest of the evening would seem to confirm Stowe’s account, but you must talk to Aurelia in the morning andhear her account of events, as well as discover what led up to Grantleigh’s attack.”
“I cannot believe Nathan did this,” Louis burst out, his fists clenching. “He would not, he would never!”
Lady Lymsey traded glances with her husband.
“Jealousy can drive a man to madness,” Lord Lymsey said at last. “Aurelia was the belle of the ball last night, undeniably, with men falling over themselves to dance with her. Perhaps Grantleigh simply lost his head.”
“He’ll marry her,” Louis said, sounding almost desperate. “He loves her, and Aur loves him, I know she does! I’ll find him and make him marry her…” He took a step towards the door, as though he planned to go right at that moment.
“You will sit down.” Lord Lymsey rarely had to raise his voice to his son and heir, an easygoing lad with a sensible head on his shoulders, but his voice cracked like a whip and Louis sat down so fast his chair almost toppled over. “Leave this to your mother and I, Louis.” Lymsey gentled his tone. “I know Grantleigh is your friend, but you must trust us to do what is best for Aurelia.”
“She wants to marry Nathan!” Louis insisted.
“If that’s the case, then she shall have him.” Lady Lymsey had no doubt of it; between her husband and Stowe, Grantleigh would be saying his vows to Aurelia before the week was out, if that was what she wanted. Considering her fervent wish never to lay eyes on him again as they rode home in the carriage, however, Lady Lymsey rather suspected any friendship between Lord Grantleigh and the Lymsey family was at an end.
“Do not leave the house tomorrow without first speaking to me,” Lord Lymsey directed, “and we will not be at home to any callers.”
“Yes, dear,” Lady Lymsey said promptly, and Louis could do nothing other than say;
