“How did she die?” The question emerged as a whisper, and Aurelia could not have held it back even if she wanted to.
Sebastian swallowed.
His expression went icy, but the anger there was not directed at her, she knew. “We had another argument,” he said, his voice flat as though he were recounting a story he had heard many times over. “She left the house in one of her moods, slamming doors and screaming that she hated me. I knew it was raining, knew the weather was bad, but instead of chasing her as I ought, I thought I would allow her to get wet and miserable so she would come back—humbled, for once.”
He shook his head, and Aurelia thought she saw tears gleaming in the corners of his eyes. “Of course, that didn’t happen. She didn’t come home. After an hour or so, I started to grow concerned and ran out after her. Thestorm—” His voice cracked,and he cleared his throat, deliberately not looking at Aurelia. “The storm was far worse than I had given credit for.”
“What happened?” she whispered.
Sebastian’s mouth moved, but for a moment, he said nothing. Then, merely, “The villagers found her the next morning.”
“And she was…?”
“Yes, Aurelia, she was dead. That is how the story ends. There is no happy ending. Not for her, and not for me.”
There was more to the story, Aurelia knew—had he chased after her or left her to wander in the storm? Did the storm kill her or did Sebastian?
No, she already knew him well enough to know he would not have raised a hand against her. Whatever else happened in their marriage—she was at the very least certain ofthat. And privately, she thought it unlikely that either had truly loved the other—no one in love could behave in such a puerile way.
These sorts of marriages were common in theton, where both parties saw something they liked and never bothered to investigate the matter further. They loved what they thought they saw, and there was nothing more to it.
Of course, Aurelia had never been subject to that kind of courting before—she had never been courted at all, in fact.Sebastian’s offer had come out of the blue, and he hadn’t presumed himself in love with what he thought he knew.
“The pertinent point is that she is no longer here,” Sebastian said crisply, “and, thus, I go to the lighthouse to remember her.”
“Did she like it there?”
“It’s a place I remember her. That’s all.”
Aurelia nodded slowly. A terrible feeling rose in her, one she couldn’t quite put her finger on.Angerthat he was doing this—although that made no sense.Frustrationthat he still chased after his former wife’s memory even while navigating a new marriage with her.
And could that bejealousy? Of a dead woman? She shook herself. This was ridiculous. So what if he still thought he loved her, and if he grieved her enough, he held onto her even after death? Certainly, it made no odds to her.
“I cannot tell you what to do,” she began, clearing her voice, “so I won’t try. But I hardly think this is a healthy way of going about this.”
“Much you would know on the subject.”
No, she wouldn’t. Which is why she took a spoonful of soup and did her best to ignore the penetrating quality of his gaze.
“I cannot let myself forget,” he began after a long moment. “How it feels to let someone slip through my fingers. If I forget her, then I forget all the lessons I learned with her. And there were many.”
“I would have assumed one of them would be not to marry rashly, and yet here we are.” Aurelia raised her gaze to his face. “Did you truly choose me because you couldn’t bear to court another woman?”
“That, and because the rumors about Kate’s death were once rampant in London. They’ve died a little now, but if I were publicly searching for another wife, they would be loudly revisited for all and sundry.” He spread his hands. “And people are hungry for gossip, Aurelia. Didn’t you see that with the Duchess of Fenwick?”
Aurelia had, and she’d hated it.
He shook his head and muttered, “The only reason she ever still invited me was because she wanted to see how I was doing and to do her own little investigation into my marriage. The results of which she would no doubt spread about Town.” He sighed, his shoulders falling, and instead of a proud, arrogant man, Aurelia saw a lonely one in his place. “I understand you dislike the manner by which we were wed, but it was the only way I could see to find a wife who could help me do my duty.”
“Bear your children?”
“I am a duke, Aurelia. I have my name to consider. My inheritance.”
And, despite everything she had thought to the contrary, he truly cared about the people here. The land. His responsibilities as master of the estate—in spite of what the tenants muttered behind his back.
“I don’t mind it,” she said with a little laugh. “If you hadn’t, I would probably have gone to work as a governess somewhere, if someone would hire me. And prayed that it was a reputable family.”
To her surprise, Sebastian reached across the table and gave her hand a quick squeeze. “You would have deserved better.”
