“No, she said that she still loves him, and when I asked if he was still alive, she avoided the question. Perhaps he did die.”
“You are making trouble where there is no trouble. The odds of Severton being your half-brother are very slim.” He sighed. “But if it makes you feel better, I will see what I can learn about his family scandal.”
“Thank you, Alec.” I almost touched his arm in appreciation, but I couldn’t risk a moment of intimacy between us again. I had to keep my distance.
As 7 Buckingham Gate came into view, I took a deep breath. I needed to put all this aside for now. We had plans to ride in Hyde Park that afternoon with Lady Mandeville to discuss the party Aunt Maude was hosting for the Prince of Wales in three days. Already, word had spread that the prince would be at our home. That news, along with being seen with the duke at the opera the night before, was exactly what Aunt Maude and Lady Mandeville had hoped for. Our social standing was on the rise, and invitations had started to arrive from the best families in the city.
The cab pulled up to the front of the house and Alec got out before helping me exit the vehicle. He offered me his arm as wewalked up to the front door and opened it, allowing me to enter before him.
Aunt Maude paced in the entry hall, the train of her dove gray day dress trailing behind her.
I paused, my heart in my throat, as she stopped and turned her steely gaze on us.
“Where have you been?” she demanded, her voice shaking with fury.
Neither of us spoke. What could I possibly say, but the truth?
I opened my mouth to speak, but she began to walk toward the drawing room. “Come with me.”
Alec closed the front door and gave me a look that was full of empathy and concern.
“I’ll tell her the truth,” I whispered. “It’s better than concocting a story that will only make her more upset.”
We followed her into the drawing room and found her pacing. Alec closed this door for privacy, too.
“Well?” she demanded, crossing her arms and tapping a foot. “How often do you leave like this? Is it a daily ritual?” She paused, her face going pale. “Are you having a—tryst?”
“Good heavens, no,” Alec said.
“We went to visit my mother,” I told her.
She lowered her hands, staring at me. “Your mother?”
“I learned that she is living in Islington. We went there today so I could meet her.”
“For what purpose?”
“She’s her mother, Aunt Maude,” Alec said. “Does she need any other reason?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Aunt Maude crossed her arms again as her gaze bore into me. “Why sneak about?”
“I didn’t think you’d let me go.”
“I’m not a monster.”
“I know—I just wasn’t sure—”
“You cannot make assumptions about me without asking me first.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“And you.” She turned to Alec. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I wanted to help Clara. It’s as simple as that. We went to Mrs. Farmington’s home in Islington and then came straight back here. Nothing more. No one saw us.”
Aunt Maude briefly closed her eyes and then lowered herself into the wingback chair, placing her forehead in her hand. “It doesn’t matter if anyone saw you—they’re already spreading rumors about Clara as it is.”
“What?” I frowned as I took a seat on one of the sofas. “What are they saying?”
