While she didn’t know precisely what that could be, she suspected Sebastian would be able to fix it for her.
But instead of showing signs of wishing for that, he picked her up with apparent ease and placed her into her chair once more. “Have something to eat,” he told her. “That’s a good girl.”
“And after I’ve eaten?”
“After—” He broke off with a growl. “Are you trying to tempt me into madness?”
Madness sounded rather fun, so long as it was with him. “Imaybe amenable,” she whispered vaguely.
He gave a dark laugh. “Of course you would be. Come now, eat up, little mouse. And for now, let’s forget this ever happened.”
She would not be able to forget that easily. But for the sake of keeping the peace, and because he had tempered the eagerness inside her to discover what had happened to his wife, she obediently picked up her fork and began to eat.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sebastian frowned at the blank paper before him. After taking Aurelia upstairs, who had become remarkably sleepy after she had finished eating—thus proving him right not to pursue anything with her that evening—he had retired to his study for the night.
The revelation that she enjoyed her life being married to him here had thrown him. He had not expected his wife to admit to such a thing. Or for it to be true. And while he had wanted to give her time to reconcile herself to her situation before he entered her bedchamber, he had not expected her to be so eager.
That kiss—
The less he thought about that kiss, the better for his sanity. She had been unpracticed, but her enthusiasm had more than made up for it. He had never kissed someone who had so thoroughly thrown themselves into the art of kissing him back.
Thesoundshe had made.
That little gasp would live in his mind for the rest of time.
He pinched his nose, trying to think. If she hadn’t been partially inebriated, he would have informed her of his intention to send her away. That, at least, hadn’t changed. He had no intention of altering his plans that far. True, she enjoyed being with him, but that could not last. He was not a man designed for life with another person, and he had not married her for the sake of companionship.
With that in mind, he dipped his pen in the ink and began to write to Mr. Arnold, requesting more information about Aurelia’s family situation. He knew the basics: that she was the bastard child of some unknown gentleman, and that her mother and uncle—a man of reasonable birth but little wealth—had raised her.
These lack of prospects had meant she was obliged to find work when her uncle and mother both died, and thus was why she found herself in the Duchess of Fenwick’s clutches. But he wanted to dig deeper and learn more. If he could discover the identity of her father, perhaps, or someone who might make this transition easier on her when the inevitable happened.
There would still be some time before it came to that, he knew, but he would rather be on top of things while he could.
Briefly, he considered speaking to her about it, but dismissed the thought as soon as it came to mind. That would achieve nothing.
If only she hadn’t been so drunk and damn sentimental about the marriage and all the ways he had ‘saved’ her. That had been his intention, of course—that she would be so grateful, she wouldn’t question the choices he made within the marriage, or in fact his character and reputation—but having it play out the way it did just made things more complicated.
If only she had indeed been some reserved, plain miss who would have politely submitted in the bedchamber and otherwise wanted nothing to do with him. She would have waved goodbye happily when he sent her away, but would have otherwise known and performed her duty to the best of her ability.
Aurelia seemed to know her duty, or an element of it, but she seemed to think they were in a proper marriage—one where she was entitled to know everything about him.
Well, things would change soon enough.
He finished his letter and addressed it to his solicitor, pressing his signet ring in the wax seal.
There.
Once he was fully armed with the information he needed, he would be in a position to send her away at any time. It would help him get through the next few weeks if he did that.
Aurelia woke with a slight headache. A result, she presumed, from her over-indulgence the night before.
When Sebastian had taken her to her bedchamber, she had expected something more to happen, but instead, he had merely rung for Jane and waited with her until her lady’s maid had arrived. After that, he had vanished, and although it was early, she had climbed into bed and fallen immediately asleep.
Now, she glanced out of the window at the fog surrounding the lands. That was how being by the sea worked, she assumed; the sea brought frets with it. It was what her uncle had told her; he had lived by the sea once, although that was in Southend, clinging to London by a hair.
Suddenly, she remembered, Sebastian hadkissedher.
