"What?" The word came out barely above a whisper.
No.
No, that couldn't be right.
He stopped, his mind racing back through every conversation, every stolen moment with Rose. She’d met him at his family’s London house,always appearing with letters in hand. She’d claimed to be the companion of a distant relation visiting in the neighbourhood, merely running errands or delivering correspondence on her mistress’ behalf. She’d always been so secretive about which household she belonged to, brushing off his questions with a shy smile and a new topic.
Always.
He'd thought it was discretion. But it was because she was the servant of his betrothed. His wife’s voice drew him out of his whirling thoughts.
"She... she found herself in an unfortunate situation. Got herself with child by a man who had promised to marry her, then abandoned her." Eleanor's voice was quiet, matter of fact. "She went away to have the baby. Her family disowned her. I have been supporting her since."
Rose had been with Eleanor, had dressed her. Fixed her hair. Helped her prepare for her wedding to him. All while secretly courting him. While accepting his declarations of love. While letting him believe she was being threatened by his wicked fiancé, a stranger.
"She lives in the countryside now," Eleanor continued. "Hidden away from prying eyes, as these things must be. I send her funds monthly to ensure she and the baby are cared for."
Aubrey stared at Eleanor's face, trying to reconcile what she was saying with what Rose had told him. "You support her out of what? Guilt?"
"Compassion." Eleanor's voice held a hint of hurt. "She made a mistake. She trusted a man who betrayed her. I would not see her and an innocent child starve simply because society deems them unworthy of assistance."
"Whose child is it?" The question burst from Aubrey before he could stop it.
Eleanor blinked. "I do not know. I did not pry, and Rose did not volunteer the information. It seemed... indelicate to ask."
"When exactly did she leave your service?"
Eleanor’s eyes widened with concern and a hint of suspicion. "Late August of 1866." Eleanor's brow furrowed. "What is the matter? Why are you asking these questions?"
Aubrey ran his hand over his face. He couldn't look at her. Couldn't face her while he confessed how thoroughly he'd been deceived. How he unwittingly had an affair with her friend and maid. How willingly he'd believed the worst of a woman without giving her the chance to defend herself.
He was an utter imbecile.
"Rose Beaumont,” he began, his voice hoarse, “is the woman I had courted during our betrothal."
The silence that followed was crushing.
The colour drained from Eleanor's face so completely that Aubrey feared she might faint. She swayed slightly, reaching out to grip the back of a chair.
"Rose?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "My friend? My lady's maid?"
"Yes." Aubrey felt sick as he stared at his wife’s pale face. She couldn’t fake her shock this well, could she? And if she wasn’t lying that must mean…
"But... but that is impossible. She never..." Eleanor's eyes were wide. "She was helping me prepare for the wedding. She was with me nearly every day that summer. When would she have—how could she have—"
Aubrey's mind was racing through memories now, reordering them in light of this new information. "She came to my family's London house in late spring. To deliver correspondence to mymother."
Eleanor nodded slowly, her face still ashen.
"That is when we met. In my family's entrance hall. She was..." Aubrey closed his eyes, seeing Rose’s pretty face in his mind as fury mixed with grief. "We began talking. And then... we continued talking. She would find excuses to return with messages. I would arrange to be there when she came."
He opened his eyes to find Eleanor staring at him with an expression of absolute devastation.
"So, the entire summer," Eleanor said slowly, "while I was planning our wedding, my own lady's maid was secretly courting my betrothed."
The words hung in the air, damning in their simplicity.
"We did not—it was not intended to hurt you—" Aubrey stopped. Because that was a lie, wasn't it? He had known Eleanor would be hurt purely by the fact that he was courting someone else. He’d been driven by her pretty face and innocence and the intoxicating feeling of forbidden courtship.
