The words hung in the air like poison.
"He wouldn't bed me before marriage," Rose continued, her voice dripping with venom. "I got myself with child by another man, thinking I could seduce him into bedding me, claim it was his, force him to marry me. But he refused to touch me. Said it wouldn't be honourable." She laughed bitterly. “Because he loved me.”
Eleanor felt sick. "Get out."
"But you should remember something, Lady Madeley." Rose's smile was cruel now. "He loved me. Only me. Not his betrothed. Not his wife. Me.Whatever he tells you now, whatever lies he speaks to ease his conscience, he loved me. And he could never love you."
"That's not true."
The voice came from above them—deep, strained, but unmistakably Aubrey's.
Eleanor's head snapped up. Aubrey stood at the top of the grand staircase, gripping the banister with white knuckles. Morrison and a footman flanked him, clearly supporting most of his weight, but he was standing. Standing and looking down at Rose with an expression of cold contempt.
"Aubrey, darling." Rose's face had gone white. "You’re injured."
"I never loved you." Aubrey's voice carried through the entrance hall with absolute certainty. "I was infatuated, yes. Foolish, absolutely. But I never loved you, Rose. I didn't even know you."
"That's not—"
"I refused to bed you not because of honour." Aubrey cut her off. "I refused because deep down, in some part of me that still had sense, I knew I was using you. Using you to rebel against my parents. Using you to avoid a marriage I was too cowardly to give a real chance. You were never more than a means to an end. A fantasy of freedom that had nothing to do with who you actually were."
Rose's hands trembled. "You said you loved me."
"I said what you wanted to hear. What I wanted to believe." Aubrey's face was hard. "But I never knew you, Rose. I never asked about your dreams or your thoughts or what you wanted from life beyond me. I didn't love you. I loved the idea of escape. And you," his voice dropped lower, "you knew that. You used it. Used me just as much as I used you."
He reached into his dressing gown pocket and pulled out something small and golden. A locket.
"I believe this belongs to you."
Aubrey threw it down the staircase. The locket tumbled through the air, catching the sunlight, before clattering across the marble floor and sliding to a stop at Rose's feet.
Rose stared at it, at the locket now opened to her miniature portrait.
"That's what I think of your love," Aubrey said quietly. "And of the man I was when I believed in it. Get out of our house, Rose. Get out and never come back."
Rose's face crumpled. She bent and snatched up the locket, clutching it to her chest like a talisman. When she looked up, her eyes were bright with tears and rage.
"You deserve each other," she spat. "A coward and a cold fish. I hope you're miserable together."
"We won't be," Aubrey said. "Not anymore."
Rose turned and fled, her footsteps echoing through the entrance hall until the front door slammed behind her.
The silence that followed was profound.
Then Eleanor saw Aubrey sway, his face going grey, his grip on the banister loosening.
"Aubrey!"
She hiked up her skirts and ran up the stairs. Morrison and the footman were trying to support Aubrey's full weight as his legs threatened to give out.
"Get him to his room," Eleanor gasped. "Quickly!"
Between the three of them, they managed to half carry, half drag Aubrey back to his bedchamber. He was breathing hard, his face white with pain, his entire body trembling from the effort of standing.
"Out," Eleanor said sharply to Morrison and the footman once they'd gotten Aubrey onto the bed. "Leave us."
Morrison looked uncertain. "But my lady, his lordship may need—"
