A grinning Lord Kenebruke had been ushered into the drawing room followed by his nephew and heir, Mr. Healey. Once they’d all taken a seat and Aurora sent Holly for tea, LordKenebruke stood and announced a walk around the garden was required to stretch out his leg.
Aunt Lottie, of course, accompanied him.
The next hour, Aurora was forced to entertain Healey, who thankfully, was an attractive, pleasant gentleman who shared her love of books. He commented on several tomes discarded on a side table, one of which was Jordan’s book on animal husbandry. That led to less forced conversation until Kenebruke and Aunt Lottie returned.
There were no grass stains or leaves stuck to the older couple’s clothing when they reappeared, but Aunt Lottie’s cheeks were pink. When Kenebruke and his nephew took their leave, the elderly lord let it be known he took a carriage ride through Hyde Park every morning, before winking at Aunt Lottie.
Aurora pulled out the tiny watch she carried from her reticule and checked the time.
Each day promptly at nine o’clock. An hour when most, like Aurora, should still be lingering over hot chocolate.
Twice since Kenebruke’s visit, Aunt Lottie decreed that she and Aurora would begin a new exercise regimen. One that involved walking down this exact path in Hyde Park, each day at exactly eight-thirty. The extra half hour gave Aunt Lottie plenty of time to perch on one of the benches, fluff her skirts and pretend absolute absorption in a novel. She never failed to gasp in surprise at seeing Kenebruke traveling through the park.
Aurora thought it some sort of game between the two.
A familiar carriage came around the bend, slowing as it neared the bench where Aunt Lottie sat. At least Kenebruke was prompt.
Aurora looked away and walked over to a spray of peonies that spilled along the edge of the path. Based on her past visits to the park, she should have brought her own book. Aunt Lottieoften disappeared into Kenebruke’s carriage. This might take some time.
“Have you lost Miss Maplehurst again?”
Her lips pursed slightly, though a tingle ran through her at the sound of Worth. Aurora did not immediately lift her nose from the peony. She was rather displeased with him given his behavior at the music recital. She hadn’t spoken to him since, though Aurora had glimpsed Worth at a ball she’d attended with Jordan and Odessa a few nights ago, yet another lovely woman clinging to his arm.
Worth had lifted his head, catching sight of Aurora, considering her with an oddly thoughtful expression until she looked away. This entire week, after retiring for the night, she did nothing but stare at the pattern of the wallpaper in her room, wondering why she was so set on this course of action with Worth. Imploring a rake, a friend of her brother’s no less, to indulge her curiosity. Tutor her.
I am somewhat ridiculous.
She should be grateful that Worth hadn’t informed Jordan. Or perhaps Tamsin. But Aurora thought it telling that he had not.
“Idon’t lose Miss Maplehurst. Rather the other way around. She’s just down the path, inside that carriage visiting a friend.” Aurora retreated from the peony and turned.
Worth sat atop his horse, hair sparkling like gold in the sun, as if he were Apollo himself. The deep green of his coat was nearly the same color as the grass around them and his riding breeches stretched so tightly across the stretch of his muscular thighs Aurora had to momentarily look away. She wondered how Worth could sit a horse properly in such attire.
The sapphire gaze slid over Aurora but didn’t linger on any of the obvious spots before regarding her with politeness, but little else.
How bloody disappointing.
“I stand corrected.” Worth glanced in the direction of Kenebruke’s carriage before returning to her. “Allow me to make introductions. This is Priscilla.” He nodded to the horse, who snorted loudly in response.
“Priscilla?” Aurora moved closer, eyeing his mount. “Odd. Your horse isn’t even a female.”
“He’s named for the headmaster’s wife at Eton. Whom I despised. The headmaster, not his wife. I liked her quite a bit.” A smirk crossed his mouth. “She liked to make me tarts, among other things. Let me mount you, Priscilla,” he whispered to the horse. “I like riding you, Priscilla.”
Aurora snorted before bursting into laughter. “You are terrible, Worth.”
He had always been with her, at least before her debut. Almost as if Aurora’s come out had somehow muted Worth’s ability to jest with Aurora or partner her in cards. He no longer spoke of books with her. Or pretended to swoon when Jordan’s wife, Odessa, launched into one of her morbid tales. She missed that Worth.
“There are noises coming from that carriage,” Worth tilted his head. “Are you sure Miss Maplehurst is well?”
“Perfectly well.” Aurora walked a bit further. Aunt Lottie deserved her privacy.
Worth gazed over her shoulder once more. “That is Lord Kenebruke’s carriage.”
“It is. Do you know him?”
“And his nephew.” The corner of Worth’s mouth tightened. “Mr. Healey. He inserts himself in his uncle’s affairs.”
“He is Kenebruke’s heir. I would think that normal.” Worth didn’t like Mr. Healey, which was odd because Worth liked nearly everyone. “I find Mr. Healey lovely. He’s come to Emerson House along with his uncle. He likes books nearly asmuch as I do.” She paused as Worth’s eyes rested on her face. “Mr. Healey has asked to call upon me.”
