Page 73 of A Trap by the Rakish Duke
The fight left her, leaving only sorrow. “If you cannot trust me, then I shall leave,” she whispered.
Philip’s intense gaze wavered slightly but he remained silent.
Aurelia turned to leave, her heart heavy. She didn’t say another word to her father, who had been reduced to a mere spectator in their heated argument. She walked out of the inn with her head held high, but inside she was in shambles.
By the time she reached Oakdale Manor her mind was made up. She could not stay. If Philip no longer trusted her, if he genuinely believed she had betrayed him, then there was no place for her in his home.
She packed her things quickly, her movements mechanical. Eilidh, sensing her mistress’s distress, helped her in silence.
Within the hour Aurelia and Eilidh were seated in a carriage on their way to Philip’s London house. She had been informed that Bridget House had been named after his mother.
“Is everything all right, Your Grace?” Eilidh asked as they rode away.
Aurelia parted her lips to respond but no words came out. Everything was not all right and it appeared to be entirely her fault. Seeing that the Duchess could not respond, Eilidh nodded in understanding, pressing her lips together to keep from speaking.
Eilidh felt the Duchess needed some quiet comfort and placed her hand on Aurelia’s.
“I believe we shall arrive at Bridget House shortly,” she said with a smile. Aurelia could only nod mutely in response.
Aurelia stood in the foyer, suffocating in the heavy blanket of silence.
The towering dark walls only deepened her sense of isolation. She was unable to lessen the significance of Philip’s words, each one cutting more deeply into her heart.
How could he believe that she had intended to betray him? The mere thought twisted inside her, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She had been patient with him; more patient than anyone else would have been. Nonetheless, he had instantly condemned her without considering her explanation.
She made her way up the grand staircase, her skirts brushing the polished wood as her thoughts circled back to the scene at the inn.
Aurelia had gone to see her father, believing that some clarity about the past might bring peace to her present. Instead, she had been met with Philip’s rage, as though he had waited for the slightest misstep to cast her aside. It was so unfair that he would lash out at her when he hadn’t even told her the truth.Hehad keptherin the dark, and yet it was she who was now paying the price for it.
Once inside the room she had claimed for herself, Aurelia sank down onto the bed, her eyes unfocused as the weight of the day settled over her.
Philip’s words echoed in her mind, gnawing at her. He’d accused her of plotting against him, of undermining his trust. Although she knew his anger came from a place of deep hurt, she couldn’t help but feel the sting of his unfairness.
The door creaked open softly and Eilidh entered, balancing a tray of tea and sliced fruit.
“Your Grace,” she said gently, setting the tray down on the small table by the window. “You should eat something and rest if you can.”
Aurelia didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the window. Her mind was still on Philip, replaying the hurtful things he’d said. She had tried so hard to make the best out of their situation, even when it felt impossible at times. And yet here she was, locked away in a house that wasn’t truly her home, nursing a broken heart, weighed down by a burden that should never have been hers to bear.
Eilidh stood quietly for a moment, watching her mistress, concern etched on her face. “Is there anything you wish me to do, Your Grace?” she asked softly, stepping closer.
Aurelia nodded slowly, pulling herself out of her thoughts. “Yes. Fetch me some paper and a pen,” she murmured.
The maid hurried off and returned moments later with the requested items. Aurelia took the quill, pausing only briefly before she began to write. Her hand moved across the page with steady determination. When she finished, she folded the letter neatly and handed it to Eilidh.
“Send this to Godwin House,” Aurelia said, her voice quiet but firm.
Eilidh took the letter and paused to look at Aurelia. “Are you sure, Your Grace?” she asked cautiously, holding the letter close to her chest. “Is this the right choice? Do you really wish to meet with him again?”
Aurelia’s distant gaze met Eilidh’s. “Philip has done his worst,” she said flatly. “He has accused me of betrayal. What more damage could possibly be done? I need answers, Eilidh. If Philip will not give them to me, then I must seek them out from the only other person who knows what happened.”
Eilidh hesitated for a moment, but the resolute look in Aurelia’s eyes warned her not to press further.
With a curt nod, she clutched the letter and quietly stepped out of the room, leaving Aurelia alone once more.
As soon as the door clicked shut Aurelia fell back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. Her thoughts drifted to her father. Ever since Oliver told her that her father forged documents, she couldn’t help but believe that her father had done something horrible to Gabriel.
She felt the familiar ache of longing, not just for her family but for the life she had lost. The life in which she wasn’t constantly walking on eggshells, where she wasn’t trapped between two men who had secrets they refused to share. A life in which she could trust without hesitation.
