Page 8 of Claws and Contrivances
Her older sister had been so correct every time she’d gently admonished Rose for not properly thinking through any of her adventures ahead of time. It was true, even now when she’d thought she’d learned better: she really did have a terrible tendency to go off half-cocked whenever a burning mission of justice preoccupied her. Every step she took along the way always made perfect sense at the time, and yet, somehow, in the end ...
To her surprise, Sir Gareth gave her an apologetic nod and stepped back slightly, lifting his hand from the carriage doorway. “I see. Do forgive me for my unfortunate misunderstanding. I hadn’t realised that you were betrothed to this gentleman.”
Mr Aubrey let out a heavy, put-upon sigh; but Rose, sighting unexpected salvation like a light at the end of a tunnel, slammed her booted foot, hard, atop his in the carriage footwell.
“Well, of course we are betrothed!” she said brightly over the sound of his muffled grunt. She seized his closest hand in a tight, warning grip. “What other explanation could there be?”
Chapter 5
In all of Rose’s girlhood imaginings of how an announcement of her betrothal might take place, she had never once anticipated her fiancé looking horrified by the news. There was only one compliment she could think to pay to her putative future husband: the famously brilliant Mr Aubrey had at least the wit to silence his instinctive, wordless utterances of panic upon receipt of her most fiery look.
So she was able to smile once again with perfect assurance as she turned back to Sir Gareth, keeping a firm hold on Mr Aubrey’s warm, long-fingered hand. “Of course, we’re keeping the news private for the moment. I’m sure you’ll understand the need for discretion. We can’t have it spread to Mr Aubrey’s family from strangers before he has the opportunity to inform them himself, can we?”
“Rather not.” A note of surprising fervency rang through Sir Gareth’s deep voice. “I can only imagine what his grandfather would say about that.”
“Ah ... exactly!” Good lord, who was Mr Aubrey’s grandfather to inspire that look of intimidation from the looming Ghoul of Penryddn House himself? Fortunately, Rose would never need to find out. “In the meantime, we are expected back at my uncle’s house, so ...”
“Your uncle’s house, down the road. Quite.” Sir Gareth’s voice took on a sardonic edge even as he took another obedient step backwards. “I take it you can find your way back without any directions after all?”
“Ahaha. Yes, we ... did say we were asking for directions, didn’t we?” Rose darted a hopeful glance at her so-called fiancé, but Mr Aubrey was studying her through suspiciously narrowed green eyes and didn’t offer the slightest bit of help. “Well. The truth is, we were simply ... distracted. Earlier.”
“One can only imagine.” Sir Gareth’s upper lip curled as his voice took on a tone she didn’t care for in the slightest. “Well, then. I expect I’ll see you both again very soon.”
Absolutely not, Rose vowed; but she kept her smile dazzling as he slammed the door shut at last.
“Phew!” Releasing Mr Aubrey’s hand, she collapsed back against her seat a moment later, ignoring the bumps as the horses sprang back into movement and pulled them blessedly away, down the long and hopelessly overgrown drive. Even Mr Aubrey’s well-sprung carriage couldn’t protect her from all the jolts and tribulations of that badly neglected path down the hill, but she would have borne a great deal more discomfort to escape. “Thank goodness that’s over!”
“Miss ...”
“My uncle’s house is less than two miles away,” she assured him, “so we haven’t long to wait.”
“Miss—!”
“If you simply rap on the roof to alert your driver – once we’re entirely out of sight of Sir Gareth, of course – I can tell him exactly how to find the right turning. So—”
“I beg your pardon!” Mr Aubrey might have seemed an absent-minded scholar, but his stentorian bellow thundered through the carriage in a surprisingly effective manner. Rose’s eyes widened, and she straightened with interest as he thrust his fingers through his shining blond hair and tugged hard. “I am aware,” he ground out, “that my memory for practicalities is not always the best. But surely – surely! – I would at least recall having proposed marriage to you at some point in our earlier conversations?”
“Oh, that!” Shaking her head, Rose relaxed back into her seat. “You’ve no need to worry, Mr Aubrey. You haven’t forgotten anything.”
“But—”
“We aren’t really betrothed,” she assured him. “I only had to convince Sir Gareth that we were, so that he wouldn’t spread any unpleasant rumours about my uncle in his correspondence.”
“But—”
“Those rumours wouldn’t have been pleasant for you either,” she pointed out. “It couldn’t possibly aid your reputation as a scholar if you were to become known as a notorious seducer of young ladies.”
“Good God!” His eyebrows soared above his spectacles.
“Exactly.” She nodded firmly. “As it is, though, he’s agreed not to write of it to anyone. As he pays no social calls within the neighbourhood, neither of us should ever have to worry about the matter again.”
“So ...” He eyed her warily. “We won’t have to be wed?”
“Good Lord, no.” Rose rolled her eyes. “Trust me. That is not part of my grand plan for the future.” She might have grown out of her unrealistic dreams of true love and adventure, but she could at least persist in finding herself a true life’s purpose, and she would never dream of tethering herself to a reluctant, uninterested husband. Any home of her own would need to be built upon friendship and kindness, not resentment.
Although ... “In another year or two, you might do very well for my younger sister,” she said thoughtfully as she studied the books and papers that were scattered around them both. “Harry—Harriet, that is—could double your pile in here, at least. She’s a scholar, too.”
“Oh, really?” His face brightened for the first time. “Which branch of dragonology does she study?”
