Aunt Lottie maintained that she’d never had much decorum, not as a young lady and certainly not as an elderly spinster After three Seasons filled with questionable behavior, her father had chosen a gentleman for Aunt Lottie to wed. She’d refused, choosing to remain unwed rather enter what she deemed a disastrous arrangement.
Aurora had no idea who the gentleman in question had been—Aunt Lottie only ever referred to him as a “disgusting turnip”—but at the time her refusal, along with her behavior, created a fair amount of gossip. Since then, Aunt Lottie had had a discreet string of lovers. Of which Aurora was certain, Lord Kenebruke had been one.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you move so quickly, Aunt Lottie. When you caught sight of Kenebruke.”
“Pah. I merely strolled in his direction.”
“You were sprinting as if your skirts were on fire.”
“Well,” Aunt Lottie winked. “They were.”
Aurora took in her head of silver curls with a wry smile. Aunt Lottie was incorrigible. “You’ve got flower petals stuck in your hair.”
“Do I?” She reached up to pluck them out. “There’s a strong breeze today. I’m sure the petals blew free and settled on me. I was merely walking through the gardens with Lord Kenebruke. Sedately, I might add. He uses a cane.”
Aurora glanced down at the dirt covering the hem of Aunt Lottie’s skirts. “You must have come across a bit of mud.”
“Lady Berriwell’s flower beds are not as neatly manicured as you would imagine, Aurora. I stumbled a bit, but Kenebruke caught me. He’s quite steady and strong despite the cane.” She patted Aurora’s hand. “I apologize for leaving you for so long. The party is quite dreadful. Boring in all the worst possible ways. I saw Lady Harriet earlier.”
“None of the young ladies tolerate me, especially Lady Harriet. The only excitement I had was watching Lord Grisham play bowls,” Aurora answered.
“Ah, Grisham. A nice pair of shoulders. Strong chin. But let us return to Worth.”
Aurora bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. A gentleman’s name rarely passed her chaperone’s lips withoutsome sort of assessment of their person. “Lord Grisham is lovely.”
“But a trifle boring,” Aunt Lottie said, “Worth is not. I’ve always found him to be attractive and charming.”
“Did you know Worth would be here?” Aurora looked at her. “I was surprised to see him here. Or at any event where I happen to be. Worth avoids me and has for some time.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“He no longer calls at Emerson House.”
“I imagine business matters keep him quite busy. And he called at Emerson House so frequently because Drew resided there. Now Worth must travel to Lincolnshire to see him.” A wistful sigh came from Aunt Lottie. “Such a gorgeous man.”
“Who? Worth?”
“Well, yes, of course. Worth is magnificent. But I was thinking of Kenebruke.” A glow lit her features and Aurora could clearly see the young girl she’d once been.
“How long has it been since you last saw Kenebruke?”
“Not since just before he married. Quite literally.” A laugh escaped her. “The young lady he wed was sickly, even before she became his wife. London was deemed unhealthy for her, and they retired to his estate in Northumberland. He never had any children. His nephew is his heir. She’s dead now. His wife.”
“Grisham speaks highly of Kenebruke. How odd his estate is in Northumberland.”
“Yes, but Ravensdale is on the other side of Northumberland, not near Dunnings at all. He’d never even heard of the place until recently. Because of the coal. Apparently, everyone in Northumberland is now digging up their estates.” Another sigh came from Aunt Lottie, along with a great deal of melancholy. “I had no idea about—Lady Kenebruke. She’s been gone for some time.”
“Would you have sought him out if you’d known?” Aurora asked carefully.
Aunt Lottie looked down at her lap. “I don’t know.”
The older woman often alluded to her somewhat reckless past, especially after a brandy or two. She claimed dozens of men had fallen in love with her—possibly an exaggeration—but she herself had only been in love once. The gentleman in question was already wed and far too honorable to take a lover.
Could this mysterious lost love be Kenebruke?
“I look forward to meeting Lord Kenebruke when he comes to call at Emerson House.”
“I have asked him to call upon me,” Aunt Lottie replied. “Now, please don’t tell Emerson or Odessa that I abandoned you for such a long time. Though I had good reason.” She waved a hand. “I do hate disappointing your brother by neglecting my duties. He has such faith in me. Misguided though it may be. You’d think he would have realized there were limits on my abilities when he courted Odessa.”
