Page 18 of A Trap by the Rakish Duke
Her heart ached again as she thought of the man who had raised her. Someone as kind and caring as her father could not have done the things of which he had been accused. Even though he had accepted the challenge, she was certain of that, if nothing else.
It would take her time, but she would find out the truth in the end.
“Thereisevidence, but you are not ready to hear the truth. If you cannot see your father for what he truly is, even after he offered you up for his own gain, then there is no use in showing you the truth.”
The Duke held her gaze, almost challenging her until she spoke again.
“Will you show me if I ask?”
Her heart yearned for the truth, but her mind was unwilling to accept the fact that her father could have been the one in the wrong.
“You are not ready for the truth,” he repeated, clenching his jaw in anger.
“Then why am I even here?” Aurelia lost her patience and tossed the bow aside, staring him down as the wind whipped her dress about her legs.
“Because of your father.” The Duke uttered the words as if he were spitting out the venom of a snake, before turning his back on her and heading back to the house.
Aurelia stood there for a while, hugging her waist long after his figure had disappeared into the distance.
She felt utterly conflicted about what to believe.
My father loves me, I am certain of that. But does that make him is incapable of taking another man’s life out of greed? How can I choose between the man I have married and the man who has dedicated his life to raising me?
She had no answers.
Chapter Seven
Aurelia ran the tips of her fingers over the banister as she made her way downstairs.
All her attempts to gain the trust of the staff had fallen flat, and she was unsure what to do next. She could not call upon her father, and she had not made friends among the ladies of the Ton.
She wished with all her might that Philip would return from whatever venture had called him away from the manor. At least then, if nothing more, she would have someone to argue with. Her efforts to discover more about his past kept her mind occupied.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” a man’s voice suddenly called, startling her, and she looked up.
“Good morning?” She descended the stairs cautiously, wondering if she should call for help.
The man seemed distinguished enough with his neat blue tails, wavy brown hair, and kind green eyes. His boyish features exuded charm and eased her concerns as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“May I be of any assistance?” Aurelia asked when he failed to provide an explanation for his presence.
Looking down, he smiled before meeting her gaze. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I assumed that Philip would have informed you of my visit. I did send a note yesterday afternoon, yet I can see by your startled expression that you were not informed of my visit.”
“Philip?” She raised an eyebrow at the informal reference to her husband.
She grew increasingly more intrigued by the man’s sudden presence. If the servants were unwilling to answer her questions, then perhaps this man would.
His boyish smile only widened. “I seem to be making quite a blunder of this meeting. If I may, I would like to start this conversation over again.” He raised an eyebrow, mimicking her expression.
“Go on.” She nodded and waited patiently, intrigued by his demeanor.
The man stepped forward and bowed deeply, waving his arm with a comical flourish before he straightened up.
“My name is Oliver Audley, the Viscount Whitley. I am one of your husband’s friends.” The corners of his mouth curled into a boyish smile that charmed her.
Aurelia pursed her lips, then let out a giggle, thankful for the welcome distraction. She gripped the sides of her dress and curtsied in an overly flamboyant manner.
“The pleasure is all mine, My Lord. To what do we owe this pleasure, if I may be so bold as to enquire?”
