Page 76 of A Trap by the Rakish Duke
Perhaps…perhaps seeing them might bring me some comfort, some distraction from the crushing weight of my thoughts.
She placed a hand over her chest. “I…” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I do not know if I am up for visitors, Eilidh.”
The maid furrowed her brow with concern. “Your Grace, they came all this way to see you. I think it might do you some good to speak with them. You have been so…so sad these past few days.”
Aurelia rose from her bed to glance at her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was a disheveled stranger. Her eyes were swollen from crying and her complexion was pale and drawn.
“I look dreadful,” she muttered, smoothing her hands over her dress in a futile attempt to make herself presentable.
“They will not mind, Your Grace,” Eilidh assured her gently. “They are your friends. They will understand.”
Aurelia took a deep breath and nodded, though her heart still felt heavy with sorrow. “Very well,” she said, rising from her seat. “Show them in, Eilidh.”
Eilidh curtsied and hurried out of the room, leaving Aurelia standing by the window, her hands clasped together in front of her as she waited. The thought of facing anyone, even her closest friends, felt daunting.
Moments later, Eilidh returned, leading Catherine and Beatrice into the room. Both women looked concerned as theyapproached, their gazes softening as they took in Aurelia’s appearance.
“My dear Aurelia,” Catherine said, her voice filled with warmth and concern. “We came as soon as we heard. Are you all right?”
Aurelia managed a small, tight smile although it didn’t reach her eyes. “I have fared better,” she admitted, her voice hoarse from the tears she had shed.
Beatrice stepped forward, taking Aurelia’s hands in her own. “We were so worried about you,” she said softly. “We came because we want you to know that we are here for you.”
Aurelia’s heart clenched at the kindness in their words and for the first time since arriving in London she allowed herself to feel the comfort of their presence.
I am not…not entirely.
Perhaps with their support she would somehow overcome this catastrophe.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Catherine and Beatrice’s presence was deeply appreciated by Aurelia, who didn’t know she needed them close until they had arrived.
But in the end they couldn’t stay with her forever. They also had families and husbands to whom they had to return.
The house seemed larger and hollower without the chatter of her friends, but it was not only their absence that weighed on her heart. Her father’s recent visits had left her more distressed than ever.
When Lord Keldbrooke had first arrived, only hours after her friends had left, Aurelia had hoped he had come to apologize. However, their meeting quickly devolved into the same wretched conversation she had previously endured.
He had asked her again if she had made up her mind about stealing from Philip.
Aurelia had been appalled. “You cannot be serious,” she had said, rising from her seat with disbelief.
Her father had been undeterred and had moved closer to her, lowering his voice to a threatening whisper. “You had best make up your mind, Aurelia. The next time I come, I expect an answer.”
That was two days ago. Each day thereafter he had returned, demanding an audience. Aurelia had instructed the maids and footmen to refuse him entry, but Lord Keldbrooke was relentless. He waited outside the house like a phantom, a constant reminder of the turmoil she was trying so hard to escape.
Today, however, Aurelia decided to meet with him. She could no longer bear the thought of him lurking outside the house; his presence was like an itch she was desperate to be rid of.
When the butler announced his arrival, she decided that their meeting would take place outside the house. She needed distance, both physically and emotionally.
As she stepped out she saw her father pacing at the gate, his agitation clear even from afar. Aurelia approached him slowly, her back straight and her heart heavy with dread.
“Aurelia,” Lord Keldbrooke called out as soon as he saw her. His voice was soft, almost coaxing, but there was a sharpness to it that she couldn’t ignore.
She stopped a safe distance from him, her eyes narrowing. “What do you want, Father?” Her voice was calm but beneath the surface she was trembling with frustration.
“I want you to think about what I have said,” he replied, stepping closer, though not close enough to bridge the gap she’d intentionally maintained.
