Page 3 of Her Sort of Scoundrel
Aurelia hadn’t caused a single bit of trouble since the day of her arrival, and Dash suspected whatever she’d “gotten up to” was benign. If it made her laugh, that was all that mattered.
Almost as if on cue, he heard a joyful burst of laughter. But it wasn’t one lady this time. It was a chorus of several. Aurelia’s wasn’t among them, but he did recognize the warm, sultry sound of Fiona’s distant chuckle.
It affected him as it always did. Hitting his ears in a way that somehow flushed his body with an appealing warmth while threatening to stoke a yearning to see her, talk to her, be near her again.
Fiona.
She was the reason he avoided the conservatory. Hers extended behind her townhouse parallel to his. When she opened the side door of her conservatory and he did the same, they could pass between as if the two houses were connected.
Since their falling out, he’d never ventured into the sunlit space for fear he’d see her, or she’d see him.
Their avoidance was mutually agreed upon now, mutually adhered to scrupulously.
But Mrs. Hardy wouldn’t relent. She edged toward the conservatory and raised an arm, as if urging him to enter ahead of her.
He went so far as the threshold, and that’s when he saw her.
Aurelia sat on one of the stuffed benches behind a wall of ferns, her whole attention was riveted toward the plants. But Dash perceived immediately that they were merely serving as lush green cover. She was watching whatever was happening in Fiona’s conservatory.
Which made him wonder—what exactly was going on?
More laughter rang out, loud and full-throated.
Dash stepped onto the conservatory tile and Aurelia immediately sprang up as if caught.
“I’m sorry, my lord. I heard voices… I was curious.” Her cheeks flushed a strawberry-red and she bit her lip. “I should not have eavesdropped. I know it’s improper.”
“Curiosity is understandable.” Dash forced himself to keep his focus on Aurelia, not even glancing toward Fiona’s home. “And conservatories carry sound quite readily.”
As if to prove his words, the ladies’ voices rose again. They were heatedly debating some topic, it seemed.
“Yes,” Aurelia said excitedly. “Curiosity is exactly what I feel. Lady Fiona Prescott is so fashionable and wise. And she seems to have such fierce opinions.” She cast one longing glance toward Fiona’s home again. “Are you not acquainted with her? Perhaps we could call on her—”
“No.” Dash realized, once the word was out, that he’d raised his voice.
Aurelia’s brown eyes widened, and Mrs. Hardy let out a little tut of disappointment. Dash had never yet denied the girl anything, and he rarely ever raised his voice. He felt like an arse for doing so now.
When Aurelia’s lip trembled, he took a step closer.
“Forgive me for shouting. Lady Prescott and I…” He struggled for a way to sum up so much emotion, so much heartache. “We had a falling out, so we do not visit one another anymore.”
Aurelia’s gaze pinched in confusion. “But that’s very sad, my lord. Should you not do all you can to make amends?”
His first thought wasyou don’t know Fiona. But his second was that perhaps Aurelia had the right of it.
Had he done all he could to make amends?
When he didn’t answer, she locked her arms across her chest and notched up her chin half an inch. He’d never seen such a look of determination from her before. Since she’d come to reside in his household, she’d been nothing but agreeable. Almost too agreeable—it made him worry for how she’d survive her first Season out.
“I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, Lord Granford. More than I can say, but I can see that what I am going to ask you now will pose a challenge for you.” She took a breath and snuck a glance at Mrs. Hardy, who gave the girl an almost imperceptible nod.
“I want to consult with Lady Fiona regarding my coming out,” Aurelia said in a firm, clear tone. “I can think of no one else who I believe will help me navigate the challenges of that experience with style and grace.”
“Aurelia…” Dash swiped a hand through his hair, searching for anything he might say to make her understand the impossibility of such a request. For several reasons.
“Please, Cousin,” she said more quietly, her soft voice beginning to break. “I know so few people in this city.” She cast one longing gaze toward Fiona’s conservatory. “And I wish to meet her. If I could have even an ounce of her confidence, I’m sure I’d do well.”
Dash could see it in her eyes. She wouldn’t relent. And he couldn’t disappoint her.
