Page 34 of The Duke and His Jilted Bride

Lydia turned. Patrick inclined his head. Lydia looked at him and seemed to debate a curtsey before deciding against it. She held out her hand and he kissed it.

“How could I forget? You are the Duke of Sandacre’s friend from the wedding.”

“Guilty as charged, Miss Penrose,” Lord Rosdale said.

“They spoke of you earlier and said you might-be or might-not be arriving. You like to keep people on their toes, don’t you, My Lord?”

Lydia smiled. It was quick and genuine. Aurelia watched this with the feeling that she had just seen something begin – and tried not to think too hard about the whereabouts of her own husband.

Until Lord Rosdale asked, “Where is your husband, Your Grace? I have a thousand things to tell him and I’m only here for four days.”

“Your guess is as good as mine, My Lord,” Aurelia admitted, looking sideways at Lydia. “He left early this morning. I did not even see him at breakfast.”

“I’m sure he will turn up – perhaps with a calf in tow, who can say? Now,” Lord Rosdale clapped his hands and moved toward the drawing room. “I have heard your Aunt is coming too, and I must meet with her immediately. We did not get to end our conversation last time about how terribly funny this whole situation is.”

Hours later, they retired to change for dinner. Lydia followed Aurelia into her rooms, visibly bursting at the seams with questions she couldn’t ask in front of Aunt Violet – who had gone to rest before their meal.

Lydia sat on the bed while Aurelia closed the door and locked it. She looked around the room, stopping at the connecting door to the sitting room that separated Aurelia's rooms from Evander's.

“Well,” Lydia said, tapping her fingers against her mouth. “I wonder where that leads…”

“I dare you to find out,” Aurelia replied, moving to the dresses the maids had hung for her.

“You should know better than to challenge me like that Aurelia. I should very much like to walk into a handsome duke changing out of sweaty farm clothes. And that’s what I’d find there isn’t it?” She hurried over to the door and pressed her ear against it. “I bet he is in there now. I can hear him.”

“That’s a sitting room,” Aurelia corrected. “You are likely only hearing the maids. Would you please come here, now? Up the stairs you were going to say something about my complexion and marriage and what benefits derive from one to the other – and that is much more tolerable to me at present than you threatening to be banished from Carrstone.”

Lydia laughed loudly and returned to the bed to lie down. “I was going to say you look like you have been sleeping properly for the first time in weeks, which I stand by, and which I attribute to the sea air and nothing else, obviously.”

“Funny, as we are nowhere near the sea. It’s at least thirty-five miles to the coast.”

“Well it’s still the general vicinity of the sea, isn’t it?” She looked at the ceiling, kicking her feet over the end of the bed. “In your letters you said he gave you a room. Honestly I thought that was a euphemism at first. But you mean some sort of salon, don’t you?”

“A music room, actually.”

“With all the things a woman like you could want.”

“I suppose,” Aurelia said tentatively.

Lydia went quiet, and Aurelia stopped pretending to select a dress for the night.

“What are you trying to say?” she asked.

Lydia turned her head on the bed and smiled. “Are you happy, Aurelia? You know that I’m maybe the only person in the world you can give a truthful answer to. So I would make the most of it and tell me now if something is wrong, if I were you.”

Aurelia suppressed a sigh and sat at her dressing table. “ What do you want me to say? It’s very different being here. Sometimes… it barely feels real. How can something that feels like a fantasy actually make you happy?”

“A fantasy? In a good way or a bad way.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well do you know anything?” Lydia stressed, rolling onto her elbows. “You must know whether you love him, for instance. Do you love him?”

Aurelia’s breath caught in her throat. “You can’t ask someone that. It’s not…” She looked at her reflection and tidied her hair to occupy her hands. “It’s not an easy question to answer for a start, and then… I don’t even know what love is.”

“Ah,” Lydia said. “I see.”

“Hm?”