Page 22 of His Darling Duchess
“Where is Lady Grantleigh?” Lady Lymsey asked in her usual forthright way.
“Staying with friends for a few days, milady.” Mrs Tanwell looked at Aurelia again. “She thought it might be best to give their graces a few days at least to settle into married life.”
“Do you know, Mama,” Aurelia said, struck by inspiration, “you should invite her to Cornwall for Christmas.”
Heads whipped around, shocked expressions on every face as they all stared at Aurelia. She sighed, exasperated by their lack of understanding.
“I bear Lady Grantleigh no ill-will. Quite the opposite. I have always been very fond of her, and while I understand she may feel uncomfortable in my presence at the present time, I think it’s important to make my continued affection for her clear to society. If you invite her to Cornwall, the purpose will be served without Lady Grantleigh having to feel awkward around me.”
“That’s very thoughtful, Aurelia,” Lady Lymsey said approvingly. “And very astute. I shall pen an invitation this afternoon… if Mrs Tanwell will see to it that it is delivered to Lady Grantleigh’s current address?”
“Of course, m’lady.” The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy, but her expression had changed, when she looked at Aurelia, from wary to admiring. “Your Grace is very kind, to think of Lady Grantleigh’s comfort. She’s been a good, kind mistress.”
“I do not doubt it,” Aurelia said. “And I do not hold her responsible for her son’s misdeeds.”
“Nobody would blame you if you never wanted to lay eyes on her again, dear, but I’m glad you’re thinking clearly aboutit.” Lady Lymsey placed her hand on Aurelia’s arm, keeping her close as the housekeeper led the way into the next room, and spoke quietly into her ear. “I’m proud of the way you’ve conducted yourself since this entire episode began, Aurelia. You’ll do very well as Stowe’s duchess. Very well indeed.”
A light tap on his study door had Rhys glancing up from estate paperwork with some relief. He had a very competent steward who handled most business, but his sense of duty wouldn’t allow him to let major decisions to pass unreviewed, even if he did find most of it deeply boring.
“Enter,” he called.
“Excuse me, Your Grace,” his housekeeper opened the door just enough to look around it, “but I’m just conducting the tour of the house for Her Grace and her family. Would you allow them to view your study?”
“Of course.” Rising to his feet, he told himself sternly that he shouldn’t get getting those strange flutters in his stomach every time Aurelia was about to enter the same room. He was a battle-hardened soldier and one small golden-haired slip of a girl… had him wrapped around her little finger, he realised as she entered the room and flashed him a smile full of sunshine.
“I do apologise for bothering you and disturbing your work, Stowe,” she said.
“You could never be a bother, my lady, and I hope you will give yourself leave to disturb me whenever you wish. I am always at your disposal.”
Aurelia’s young sisters sighed in unison at his remarks, and even her mother shot him an approving look. Aurelia herselfblushed and looked quickly about the room in an obvious attempt to find some way to change the topic.
“This is a handsome room, Stowe,” she said. “Are you pleased with it?”
Rhys shrugged. “It serves well enough.” Looking around himself, he thought the room very dark, or perhaps it was just in contrast to the sunshine Aurelia seemed to carry with her everywhere she went. Dark oak panels on the walls and floor meant what little light entered the room seemed to be swallowed up at once, leaving only his desk lit by a pool of light from the lit candelabra standing upon it.
“It does seem rather dark.” Walking over to the window, Aurelia twitched at the heavy dark-blue velvet curtains which obscured a good half of the view even when drawn back. “Perhaps we could replace these with something lighter, put a carpet on the floor with some bright colours. Paint the ceiling white.”
He’d never even looked up, but did so now to see that the ceiling was the same dark blue as the curtains. No wonder the room seemed dark.
“That sounds very agreeable, my lady.” It was hard to tear his eyes from Aurelia, she was the sun in the sky, outshining everything around her, but finally he became aware she hadn't entered alone. At least he hadn’t committed too egregious a breach of etiquette by near-ignoring her mother and sisters, since Aurelia did outrank them all now she was his duchess.
Lady Lymsey looked quite displeased, fixing him with a hard stare and manoeuvring him into a corner of the study so she could say a few words to him unheard by her daughters.
“I understood you to say you intended to give Aurelia time to become accustomed to marriage before claiming your husbandly rights, your grace,” she hissed through gritted teeth.
“And so I do, my lady. No matter what you may hear bandied about. I took steps such that the servants believe the marriage to have been consummated, however.” Rhys kept his own voice low.
“Do you expect me to believe that?” Lady Lymsey looked outraged.
“You may apply to Aurelia for the veracity of it, if you wish.”
The suggestion seemed to enrage the countess further, and with a haughty sniff she turned her back on him and went to join her daughters, inspecting a collection of small antiquities displayed in a glass cabinet on the other side of the study.
The ladies did not linger long, Aurelia shooting Rhys another of those sunny smiles before they departed. Alone again, he shook his head, trying to clear it of the sense of intoxication he seemed to suffer whenever she was near.
He needed to keep his distance from his beautiful, sweet-natured wife, because otherwise he was likely to break that vow he’d just re-made to her mother, and though Aurelia might seem pleased enough with his company, she barely knew him.
With a deep sigh, Rhys re-seated himself and reached for the papers he’d been perusing when Aurelia entered the room, reports from various agents he’d set on his cousin’s trail. There were men scouring every corner of Britain for Grantleigh, and when they found him, they had orders to haul him back to Stowe by the scruff of his neck.
