Page 77 of A Trap by the Rakish Duke
“I am trying to look out for you, can you not see that? Philip does not care about you. If he did, he would be here right now, would he not?”
Aurelia’s hands clenched into fists. “He is not here because I pushed him away, not because he does not care,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But you would not understand that, would you?”
Her father scoffed. “And whose fault is that? You allowed yourself to fall into his trap, but it is not too late, Aurelia. You can still get something out of this marriage if you do as I say…”
“Enough!” Aurelia interrupted, her eyes blazing with anger. “I will do no such thing. I want nothing to do with your schemes! Nothing to do with you!” Her voice cracked at the end and she cursed herself for showing weakness in front of him.
But how could she not? How could she pretend she wasn’t heartbroken by the realization of who her father truly was?
Lord Keldbrooke’s face twisted with anger and he took a step forward. “Do not dare to speak to me like that!” he hissed. “After everything I have done for you, after all the sacrifices I made…”
“You call betrayal and deceit sacrifices?” Aurelia snapped back, her voice shaking. “I have been nothing but a good daughter to you, and this…this is how you repay me? By asking me to betray my husband?”
“He is not your husband,” Lord Keldbrooke spat. “He is just a man who is using you. When he is done Philip will cast you aside like you are nothing! I am the only one who has ever truly looked out for you.”
“You,Father, are wrong,” Aurelia countered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Philip was right about you and I was too blind to see it, but I see you now. I see who you truly are and I want nothing more to do with you.”
Lord Keldbrooke’s face contorted with rage and before Aurelia could react he lunged at her, his hand raised to strike her.
She gasped and stepped back, but the footmen who had been watching nearby were quicker. They grabbed Lord Keldbrooke, pulling him away from her before he could injure her.
“Get your hands off me!” he bellowed, struggling against the men. “You ungrateful little…”
“Take him away,” Aurelia said, her voice shaky but determined.
She couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. The man before her was not the father she had once loved. He was nothing but a monster.
The footmen dragged Lord Keldbrooke away, his curses fading as he was thrown off the premises.
Aurelia stood there breathing heavily, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never seen her father so enraged, so desperate. All she now felt was a deep, aching sadness.
Unbeknownst to her, the entire exchange had been witnessed by John, who watched in silence, absorbing every detail before quietly slipping away.
Aurelia turned back toward the house, her legs trembling. As she walked inside, the weight of the confrontation pressed down on her heavier than ever. She had severed ties with the last remaining piece of her old life, and now all that was left was the broken shards of her marriage.
Would Philip ever forgive her? Could she ever forgive herself?
Philip sat hunched over in his study, surrounded by the oppressive silence that had become his only companion since Aurelia’s departure.
The thick, dark walls of the room were closing in on him, mirroring the heaviness in his heart. He stared unseeing at the stack of documents scattered across his desk, their inky words swirling into incomprehensible shapes. Sleep eluded him; a distant memory overshadowed by the haunting scent of Aurelia which lingered in the air, filling the spaces where she had once resided.
Damn her!
He ground his fists roughly into his tired eyes. Every effort to concentrate was thwarted by thoughts of her smile, her voice and the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed.
Sighing heavily, he forced himself to focus, but it was futile. The weight of his anguish made it impossible to absorb a single word.
Mr. Wimbledon knocked and entered, his face taut with concern. “Your Grace, you have a guest.”
Philip looked up, his heartbeat quickening in anticipation. “Who is it?”
“Mr. John Smith, Your Grace. He has urgent news regarding Lord Keldbrooke.”
With a wave of his hand, Philip acknowledged Mr. Wimbledon and waited impatiently for John to enter.
The door swung open revealing John, who looked visibly shaken.
“John,” Philip said, his voice a low rumble. “What has happened?”
