Page 24 of Aurelia

Or perhaps the strain of being in Lord Crewe’s company for almost two hours tonight?

That was certainly a possibility. While his lordship hadn’t been harsh or peremptory with her as he’d been with Sir Gideon, his daughter, and even his cousin on occasion, there was something about his knowing gaze that required a degree of vigilance she didn’t recall needing in the past.

Aurelia smiled when she saw the doorway to her room just ahead, pleased she’d found her way back without a problem.

She opened the door and then gave an undignified squawk of surprise at the figure standing in the doorway between her bedchamber and dressing room.

It was Lady Celsa.

And she was wearing Aurelia’s best hat.

“What are you doing?” Aurelia demanded, irked by her frightened squeaking.

The girl shrugged, her face still in shadow as she removed the hat. “It is my father’s house; I am allowed anywhere inside it.”

“It is rude to root through your guest’s things.”

“But you are not my guest.”

Aurelia closed the distance between them until she could see Celsa’s sneering expression. She took the hat. Or at least she tried to, but for one tension-filled moment, the girl held onto it. Whatever she saw in Aurelia’s face—likely fury at having her privacy violated—made her release it.

“I didn’t hurt it,” Celsa said sulkily, giving a forced laugh as Aurelia inspected the delicate plum silk pleating on the underside of the brim. The hat was one of the few things she’d retained for herself from her year in London and it flattered her as no other item of clothing.

Satisfied it was unharmed she looked up. “It is obnoxious to handle a person’s possessions without asking permission.”

Rather than respond, the girl drifted away, idly examining the few items Aurelia had scattered about the room when she’d unpacked.

Aurelia returned the hat to its box in the dressing room and came back to her bedchamber to find Lady Celsa examining the small painting she had made of her sisters and brother only the year before.

“Is this your family?”

“Yes. You may pick it up if you like.”

Celsa did so, staring at the faces with rapt fascination. “Who is this one?”

Aurelia knew who she meant before she even looked. “That is my sister Selina.”

“She is beautiful.” There was a wistful note in the girl’s voice.

“She is. But that is not the best thing about her.”

Celsa turned to her, her dark brown brows—which looked like wings—lifted. “What is?”

“She is kind, thoughtful, and loving.”

Celsa rolled her eyes. “I suppose she is very good and never gets into scrapes, either.”

“Rarely.”

“She sounds boring.”

“She is not nearly as boring as rude people.”

The winged brows came down and the girl opened her mouth, probably to say something even ruder, but then seemed to think better of it. “What about this one?” she asked, pointing at Aurelia’s tallest sister.

“That is Hyacinth.”

“Hyacinth,” Celsa repeated, trying out the name on her tongue. “She looks like a boy—I don’t mean to be rude,” she hastened to add.