Page 22 of Aurelia

He grinned, as if he’d once again heard her thoughts. “Do you know why I am so angry with my daughter?”

How had this uncomfortable conversation begun? Aurelia could not remember. She hesitated, considering her next words carefully. “It is really none of my affair, my lord.”

The earl ignored her answer and said, “She locked her governess in the dungeon today. The woman was left in there for five or six hours before somebody thought to go searching for her.”

The castle was cold and damp; Aurelia shuddered to imagine what the dungeons were like.

“The poor woman was beside herself, not to mention badly chilled. She might have taken ill and she certainly would have given her notice this very day if my cousin had not begged her to stay—at least until we can locate victim number ten.” He was still smiling, his rapidly shrinking pupil the only sign of his displeasure.

His eye was hypnotic, the blue of his iris as mesmerizing as a flame.

Aurelia was alarmed to realize that she could have happily sat there staring at him all day long.

She resolved, then and there, to commence sketching him out of her system the moment she returned to the privacy of her room. Even if she could not manage to exorcise him, Aurelia knew she would enjoy trying.

Mr. Montgomery coughed lightly, breaking the spell. “Perhaps after dinner, I can show you some of the subjects you will be recreating over the next months, Miss Burton. That is, if you are not too tired?” He chuckled nervously, as his eyes—the color of the sky with no storms on the horizon—slid between his cousin and Aurelia.

“I would very much like to see your work, Mr. Montgomery,” Aurelia said.

And you’d also like to run as far away from the Earl of Crewe as possible, a taunting voice in her head jeered.

Aurelia did not argue with the assessment. How in the world was she to spend close to a year on the Isle of Crewe in proximity to such a man without making a terrible fool of herself?

Chapter 5

The earl and his cousin did not indulge in the masculine custom of postprandial port, so directly after dinner, Mr. Montgomery escorted Aurelia from the dining room down into the bowels of the castle.

“I have set up my workshop in the armory.” Mr. Montgomery gestured to her light wrap. “Will you be warm enough?” He smiled at her, sweetly tentative. Or perhaps he only seemed tentative when contrasted with his cousin’s arrogance.

“Yes, I should think so.” And if she wasn’t that would give her an excuse to leave. Mr. Montgomery seemed nice enough, but an entire room full of stuffed animals sounded rather… grim.

“I hope his lordship did not make you too uncomfortable at dinner, Miss Burton.”

“No, not at all,” she lied.

“He is frustrated by his daughter’s behavior and is quite short-tempered on the subject.”

“I can imagine.” And she did have some sympathy for the man, although she condemned his method of addressing the problem. “Do you live on the island year-round, or do you keep a home elsewhere?” she asked to change the subject.

“I live here all the time. It is really the only home I’ve ever known. My uncle took me in after my parents died. My father was his younger brother,” he explained. “I love it here and wouldn’t want to live anyplace else.” He smiled. “Lord Crewe was not really a spoiled brat—I was only teasing him. Indeed, he was a quiet and thoughtful child, interested in the natural world even back then.”

Aurelia found that hard to believe.

She also found it hard to believe that Mr. Montgomery was only a few years older than his cousin. She would have guessed he was at least a decade older than the earl. Crewe’s face—the unscarred half—had obvious sun damage from too much time spent in tropical climes and he had more wrinkles around his eyes than the man beside her, but Montgomery had the papery skin of a much older person. He also had a slight palsy that was unusual in one so young. At first, she had thought it was nervousness brought on by his cousin’s behavior, but he seemed to shake all the time.

Aurelia wondered if he might be ailing from something.

They reached one of the four principal turrets and he pulled aside one of the weighted drapes that she had seen covering the doorless entrances all over the castle.

“Hold on tight to the railing,” he cautioned. “Some of the steps are quite worn. As you can imagine, the armory is not much in use any longer,” he said as he led her into a section with such a low ceiling that his head almost skimmed it. “People were much smaller when this was constructed, but the ceiling would have been low even to the builders. It makes one aware of all that rock overhead, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed.” It hadn’t made her think about that. But now she was.

He opened a rough-hewn wooden door and Aurelia paused on the threshold, staring.

“Rather dramatic, isn’t it?” he asked, pride in his voice as she gaped at the menagerie of death. Dozens, if not hundreds, of taxidermized animals filled the vast room, some behind glass, but most of the larger ones exposed to the open air.

“This is… incredible,” she finally managed.