Page 53 of Aurelia

Aurelia stared. “What are you proposing? That somebody execute Miss Clifford and her sisters?”

The flames that had briefly flared in his bright blue eyes guttered at her obvious horror. “Of course I am not advocating such a thing. I am just saying that associating with that sort of person can leave a taint. You are a young woman whose future work will rely on maintaining an excellent reputation.” He regarded her kindly, once again looking like the man she knew. Or at least the man she believed she knew. “You are free to do as you choose,” he added. And then he smiled. “Indeed, your charitable impulses speak well of your kind heart. You will find Judith Pomeroy’s house is just off the road that leads north out of the village. It is a gray cottage with lots of flowers out front.”

Aurelia got to her feet. “Please, finish your breakfast,” she said when he began to stand.

She was at the door when his voice stopped her. “Aurelia?”

She turned. “Yes?”

“I was only thinking of you and your reputation. I hope we are still friends?”

He looked so concerned—so much like the sweet, somewhat bumbling man she’d come to know—that she smiled and said, “Of course we are still friends.”

He gave her a look of relief. “I am glad.”

Before Aurelia could open the door, it opened and Beekman entered.

The butler gave Aurelia an apologetic look as he held out the salver which once again held a letter. “I’m terribly sorry, but this must have fallen out of the mailbag and one of the maids only found it a few moments ago.”

Aurelia took the letter and gawked at the sender’s name: Viscountess Needham?

“Thank you, Beekman,” she said, unable to look away from the bold frank of Lord Needham.

Aurelia tore open the letter the minute she reached her room.

Dearest Aurelia,

You are no doubt frantic wondering what has become of us all. I only recently discovered that Mama has been throwing away all the letters I wrote to you over the past months. She did so to keep my marriage a secret—fearing that news of my betrothal to Needham would damage Selina’s chances of marrying well while she was in London.

Aurelia gasped. “How could you, Mama!”

Just when I think Mama has done everything she can to surprise me—and not in a good way—she sinks one rung lower.

Which leads me to my news. Yes, Aurelia, I am a married lady. As I’m sure you noticed the frank on this letter, you will have guessed that I married Lord Needham. And before you chide me for sacrificing myself, please let me assure you that his lordship and I deal quite well together. It is true that his dying ex-mistress and illegitimate daughter live at Wych House with us, but I am slowly learning that not everything is exactly what it seems. But more on that later.

As for my husband, Needham is a very generous man—not just to me, but to all of us, Aurelia. He has paid off Papa’s debts and set up both Mama and Papa in their own—separate—luxurious establishments. Doddy is off to school soon and Katie has been spending some time with Aunt Agnes in preparation for a Season.

Needham wants you to know that our home is your home and if you wish to return, he will send a post chaise for you immediately. Our days of worrying are over, darling Aurelia. You need only send word and we can have you home before the month is out.

We are leaving shortly for a journey to one of Needham’s other properties, but I just wanted to drop you a quick word and assure you that we are all well here in Little Sissingdon and have not forgotten you.

As for London, that is another matter. I have written several times to Selina but received nothing from either her or Hy. I am beginning to wonder if our Aunt Fitzroy conspired with Mama to keep our two sisters ignorant of my marriage. I have written to our aunt and will keep you abreast of any developments on that matter.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Your loving sister,

Phoebe

Aurelia re-read the letter again and then a third time before lowering it.

“How remarkable,” she murmured. Not just the marriage, but their mother’s shameful behavior. Aurelia never would have believed the countess would sink to such a level as stealing their correspondence.

It was even more difficult to imagine her practical, common-sense sister married to Lord Paul Needham. Although Aurelia had only met the man once, he had seemed positively unpleasant. Oh, not to look at, but his behavior had been cold, callous, and beyond the pale.

Then there was the matter of his mistress and illegitimate child. In her letter, Phoebe seemed remarkably sanguine about her new husband’s ex-lover living with them. Aurelia couldn’t help thinking about Lord Crewe and his love children and wondering if she would be equally understanding in the same position.

But then she recalled Lord Crewe’s hasty departure from the island—and his mad, desperate haste to get away from her—and knew she would never have to worry about how she would live with the earl’s lovers and children. Because she would never have the chance.