Page 54 of The Duke and His Jilted Bride

They walked a little further. The roses were just beginning to bud in their beds, and Aurelia leaned down to inspect one.

“I do think the country suits you,” Frederick said.

“That’s a nice thing to say.”

“You seem more yourself here, if that makes any sense. In London you were always very… contained.”

“And you didn’t like it?”

He laughed softly. “I’m not very good at containment, obviously. But my brother… He is very good at it. Though I noticed quickly last night… The way he moved in front of you when we walked in. I don't think he even knew he was doing it.”

Aurelia felt her face go hot.

“He has never done that,” Frederick continued. “That sort of instinctive thing that a man does with a woman. Not with anyone. He is not an instinctive person, my brother. I'm telling you because I think you might be doubting things, given the situation, and I want you to know what I saw and what I think.”

“I can’t say whether you are right or wrong,” she admitted, rising again into a stand and dusting off her skirts. “I don’t think it matters in the long run. What’s done is done.” She tried to smile. “Thanks to you.”

“You would have been miserable with me.”

“Oh, certainly. But I see no point pretending that you abandoned me out of concern for my happiness, do you?”

“No…” Frederick sighed, and something about it made her smile. “But it’s worth saying anyway so I can ease my conscience, and perhaps instill in you the confidence that I have that this was the better outcome. Although… You and my brother… I would never have thought it possible.”

“It didn’t even cross your mind this would happen as you were racing up to Gretna Greene?”

“Do you know, not even once. But it makes sense, in hindsight. Now that things are halfway normal again… I fear I will only be happy if I know you are happy.”

“What’s strange is that I think you mean it,” she said.

He nodded. He reached out then and took her hand briefly, both of his around hers. It wasn’t romantic or presumptuous, just the gesture of someone apologising from the only honest place they had. “I am sorry, Aurelia.”

She was about to respond when she heard hooves coming from the woods far below. Two horses came around the bend in the lawn: Matchem first, then another horse, walking at the easy pace of the end of a ride. She saw Evander, looking ahead when they rounded the corner… and then he wasn't.

His eyes went directly to her Frederick, and then to their hands. He checked Matchem without appearing to decide to.

The expression lasted perhaps two seconds. Then it was gone. But she had seen it. She had seen it clearly. Frederick released her hand and stepped back, apparently oblivious.

“Brother,” he cried pleasantly as they resumed their approach. “Good ride?”

“Fine,” Evander said. His voice was level. He looked at Aurelia for a moment, and she looked back at him. There was nothing she could say about that look with Frederick standing there and Patrick behind him.

“We should get in,” Patrick said, already turning his horse. “The wind is picking up.”

Evander turned Matchem toward the stable yard without another word, stopping only once to cast a glance back at his brother and his wife.

Nineteen

“Ineed you to be honest with me,” Violet said, not looking up from the gown she was folding. “And I need you to know that whatever you say, I am not going to make a fuss about it.”

Aurelia was sitting on the end of the bed with a stack of her aunt's chemises, which she was supposed to be folding and had not yet started. Her aunt never trusted maids with her things – sticky fingers, she said.

“That is never a reassuring opening,” Aurelia replied.

“Nevertheless.” Violet placed the gown in the trunk with a soft thud. “Have you and His Grace the Duke consummated this marriage?”

Aurelia snapped her head up, horrified. “Aunt Violet!”

“I warned you I wasn't going to make a fuss.”