Page 47 of His Darling Duchess
Aurelia marveled at thewintry sun casting a golden light on Bond Street's elegant facades. The day had been filled with delight, as she and her maid Kate, browsed through the finest shops, selecting luxurious fabrics for future gowns. As they approached their waiting carriage, Aurelia's heart fluttered with excitement, not only from the joy of her purchases but also from the knowledge that Rhys had professed his love for her and she would very shortly be back in his arms again.
Unbeknownst to Aurelia, sinister machinations were at work. Grantleigh’s plan to sow discord between her and Rhys had failed with the spectacular success of their ball, so he had resorted to more direct measures. The driver of her coach, muffled up against the chilly wind in a thick coat and scarf, was not the same man who had driven them to Bond Street.
The footman handed Aurelia and her maid up into the carriage before loading their packages and parcels into the boot andstepping up onto the footplate at the rear. With a snap of his reins the new driver started the horses off.
Aurelia did not notice the coach diverting from the route they should have taken back to the townhouse, not until the shouts of the footman alerted her that something was wrong. Startled, she looked out of the window to find that the coach had turned into a dark alleyway and halted.
“What’s going on?” Kate asked in a trembling voice.
"I don’t know. Tate?” Aurelia called to the driver. “James? What is happening?”
The door was jerked open and Aurelia flinched back instinctively as a stranger climbed into the carriage. Kate’s scream rang out for only the briefest moment before the stranger cuffed her roughly across the face, the scream cutting off as Kate fell back, stunned. Aurelia was too stunned even to try to scream or fight back, her senses reeling as the man forced a coarse sack over her head, pulling it tight around her throat. Desperate for air, her mind swirled with panic and confusion before she succumbed to darkness.
When consciousness returned, Aurelia found herself in an unfamiliar chamber, devoid of warmth or comfort. She sat up, her hands trembling as she took in her surroundings. The room was dimly lit by a meagre fire, making it hard for her to see. She peered around, barely able to even make out the boundaries of the room. Ancient stone walls made her think she was no longer in London, at least.
"Ah, my dear Aurelia, how lovely to see you awake at last," deep voice rumbled from the doorway, a shadowy figure moving forward into the faint light. It was Grantleigh, a twisted grin contorting his face.
"Wh-what is the meaning of this?" Aurelia stammered, terror gripping her heart as she struggled to maintain a facade of composure.
"Revenge, of course," Grantleigh sneered. "You were meant to be mine, you would have been mine, but Stowe stole you away from me."
"Rhys and I love each other," Aurelia declared, her voice soft but unwavering. "Your twisted fantasies cannot change that."
"Love?" Grantleigh spat, his eyes burning with malice. "I will see to it that your love story ends in tragedy. I will kill Stowe, inherit the dukedom, and then you, my dear, will become my wife after all."
Aurelia's breath caught in her throat at the monstrous declaration, yet she refused to let him see her fear. In that unsettling room, she vowed to herself that she would find a way to escape Grantleigh’s clutches, for the sake of her own life and the man she so dearly loved.
Studying Grantleigh, she wondered how she could ever have thought him handsome. His jealousy of Stowe, the cruel anticipation of taking what rightfully belonged to his cousin, twisted his features into ugliness.
She endeavoured to keep her voice quiet and steady despite her terror, determined not to show him just how frightened she was. "You are mistaken, sir. Rhys would never let you hurt me."
"Ah, but how can he protect you when he doesn't even know where you are?" Grantleigh taunted, his laughter echoing off the walls, further unsettling her already frayed nerves.
Aurelia averted her eyes from his feverish gaze, shrinking into herself as she observed the room for any means of escape. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the old stone walls and worn furnishings, an oppressive atmosphere that weighed upon her like a shroud. Yet beneath the pall of fear, a spark of defiance burned within her, fuelled by the certainty that Rhys would find her – that their love would prevail against this sinister force.
"Perhaps you underestimate him," she whispered, her fingers tracing the intricate embroidery along the edge of her gown, watching Grantleigh closely as he walked over to the fireplace. Her eyes darted toward the door, calculating; could she get there before he could catch her?
"Underestimate him? Ha!" Grantleigh scoffed, his attention momentarily drawn to a painting on the wall – a rather gory hunting scene Aurelia could hardly bear to glance at. "He is nothing compared to me."
Seizing the opportunity of his turned back, Aurelia sprang lightly to her feet, her silken skirts whispering against the cold stone floor as she darted toward the door. She clutched the brass handle, her fingers trembling as she silently implored it to turn without a sound. A sliver of hope shone through the gloom as the door inched open, revealing the dimly lit hallway beyond and she stepped forward to slip through the gap, hoping desperately that she would be able to close and secure the door to trap Grantleigh while she made her escape.
"Going somewhere, my dear?" Grantleigh's voice was close, too close. His hand clamped down on her arm, dragging her back into the room even as she screamed out her denial. His breath, sour with the scent of brandy, gusted against her cheek as he yanked her back.
“Let me go!” Aurelia screamed, overwhelmed with rage and frustration. Done with trying to appease him, she kicked and fought as he dragged her towards the bed, her teeth meeting in his hand as he tried to cover her mouth to quiet her.
“You vixen!” Grantleigh dropped her, staring at his bleeding hand in shock.
Aurelia scrambled to her feet, heart pounding as she backed away from him. She would not allow him to touch her again, would not allow him to hurt her or Rhys. With a fiercedetermination, she balled her fists, ready to fight tooth and nail if she had to.
“You will not have me,” she spat, her eyes blazing with indignation. “I will never be yours. I would rather die than be your wife.”
Grantleigh's face twisted with rage, his eyes darkening with a feral hunger. Aurelia's heart sank as she realized she had pushed him too far, that he was no longer content with simply having her as his wife. He wanted to take everything from her, to break her spirit and make her his possession. Perhaps that was what he had always wanted.
With a snarl, he lunged towards her, his fingers reaching out to grab her once again, his fingers knotting in her hair.
Aurelia screamed as he yanked, forcing her back to arch painfully.
"You will learn soon enough who your master is," Grantleigh hissed in her ear. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you. I never dreamed you had this much spirit." He licked her cheek, and Aurelia shuddered with horror, scarcely able to move with his tight grip on her hair.
