“I can only imagine who would come here to gawk at me in my current state,” Aurora said.
“It is…” The maid’s voice dropped lower. “It’s the Duchess of Roseford, my lady.”
Aurora pushed to her feet and stared in shocked silence at Jeanette. “What?”
Jeanette stepped into the room and handed over a beautiful calling card, one swirled with gold filigree, the Roseford crest on the back. Aurora didn’t know the woman well. They had spoken a few times many years ago, but hadn’t maintained the acquaintance. She knew about the path the duchess had taken, of course. Society had whispered loud and long when her first husband died in their bed in an indelicate way. Louder still when she returned to Society and landed herself the biggest rake in the kingdom.
Aurora could admit, if only to herself, that she had made a quiet study of that situation. After all, the Duke of Roseford was the brother of…
She cut off those thoughts. Thinking ofhimduring these troubled times only made everything harder. She would not do it.
“I…I do not think of the duchess as one to refuse,” Aurora whispered. “And I admit my curiosity about her reason for being here outweighs almost all my hesitance.”
She looked around the room, and humiliation made her cheeks hot. “I…you know, send her in. My shame can hardly be any higher than it already is. At least this offers some kind of entertainment.”
Jeanette gave a small curtsey and stepped into the foyer. Aurora heard her speaking softly and another voice answering, though she couldn’t make out the words. And in less than a moment, the door to her parlor opened again and Jeanette said, “The Duchess of Roseford, Lady Lovell.”
The woman who entered the room could not have looked more out of place in the shabby parlor. She was tall and beautiful, dark hair done in an elaborate style. Her gown was impeccable, flowing over her like some kind of pink waterfall. Her presence made Aurora catch her breath. This was not the same uncertain young woman she had been acquaintances with a lifetime ago. Before the duchess lost her first husband. Before she married the duke.
“Your Grace,” she said, wishing her voice didn’t tremble. “Welcome to my home. Such that it is.”
The duchess smiled at her, and in that moment Aurora was struck by something else in her. Kindness. For all her power and beauty and confidence, the duchess looked kind. When she didn’t so much as look around at the horrible parlor, Aurora nearly wept at the gentleness that had been missing from her life for what felt like forever.
“I should have sent word around first, rather than so rudely appear on your doorstep. But I felt compelled to come and I…” She smiled again, still so gentle. “I thought it might be easier for you to refuse me if I wrote you. An unfair act, I suppose, but I didsowish to speak to you.”
The kindness still existed in the other woman’s eyes, but Aurora’s chest tightened with anxiety nonetheless. There was no reason for the duchess to wish to see her so desperately. At least, no good reason that came to mind.
“Please sit,” she said, and moved to the sideboard to pour tea into the mismatched cups there. She gave herself the chipped one and handed over the other before she took a place on the settee across from the duchess. She cleared her throat. “Was there some reason you wanted to see me so badly?”
The duchess pushed her shoulders back and nodded once. “Will you call me Katherine?”
Aurora blinked at the question. “You—you came all the way here to ask if I would call you Katherine?”
The duchess laughed, and it was a musical, light sound that warmed Aurora’s heart despite the circumstances and her continued confusion. “I’m sorry, I’m a little nervous,” she said.
Aurora blinked. “You are? You don’t show it.”
“I’m surprised,” the duchess said. “My heart is beating out of my chest right now. Let me start over. You and I were once part of a rather awful little club. Women in loveless marriages.”
Aurora nodded slowly. “I’m surprised you even recall it. If rumor is true, you are not in that club anymore.”
The duchess’s face lit up. “Indeed, I am not. I could not be happier. But I remember those terrible days, that feeling that life would never be bright again. And then my husband died and things got even worse.” She shifted. “I don’t mean to be indelicate, my dear, but I believe you know what I am saying better than most.”
Aurora set her jaw. The kindness in this woman felt true, but her words still put Aurora on edge. She folded her arms. “Are you speaking of my financial fall from grace or the rumors that have burned through Society the past few days and destroyed all hope of a future? Have you come to gawk at one or both?”
“Not gawk,” the duchess said, reaching out to cover her hand. Aurora gasped at the touch. Since Imogen had disappeared into the underground, Aurora hadn’t had a kind or friendly touch. This one felt like sinking into a warm blanket.
But she had to keep her head. She pulled away. “Then what?”
Katherine pursed her lips. “I’m going to be blunt. It’s the best way. When my first husband died, it was in bed, with me astride him. And everyone knew it. Everyone talked about it. When I returned to Society, there was even a dreadful wager going around of who would take as a mistress the woman who could kill a man with her body. I came here not to crow over your misfortune, but to offer support during what I know is a difficult time. I’m here to help you, Aurora, if you would like it.”
Aurora blinked. “Help me?” she repeated, wishing her eyes weren’t swelling with tears. Wishing her voice didn’t sound so broken.
The duchess nodded as she dug into her pocket and drew out a handkerchief. Aurora took it and dabbed her eyes. “How could you help me…Katherine?”
Katherine smiled at the capitulation and then leaned forward. This time she took both of Aurora’s hands. “Any way I can. So why don’t you start by telling me what the real truth is of how you ended up in one of the worst brothels in London?”
Aurora blushed. “How do you know it’s one of the worst?”
