Letters plural, Aurelia noted.
‘What do you want with me, Arthur?’ She sighed.
‘Only to see you and talk to you. I miss you. Is that so wrong after the way we parted?’
‘And is it so wrong or surprising that I should decline!’ Aurelia shot him a withering look. ‘After the way you betrayed me—not to mention how you betrayed Emmeline—no woman with any scruples would let you anywhere near her!’
Arthur’s handsome face dropped. ‘You’re right. I know that now. I’m grateful Emmeline died before she learned how duplicitous her husband is.’
Aurelia’s eyes strayed to the black band on Arthur’s upper arm, the outward sign of mourning. She doubted his grief went deeper than the sleeve of his jacket.
‘I read one of your letters and chose not to respond,’ she told him. ‘As I choose now no longer to spend time in your company.’
She turned away, but was prevented from leaving by Arthur clutching at her sleeve again.
‘What do you think you’re doing, Mr Carver?’ she exclaimed. ‘Take your hand off me immediately!’
He dropped his hand, but did not step away. ‘Is there no hope for us?’ he asked.
His face had taken on a sullen aspect. Why had Aurelia never noticed how petulant he could be when she had first known him? He seemed like a sulky child in comparison to Jonathan.
Jonathan.
Where was he?
‘There is no hope,’ she answered. ‘Even if I was so lacking in dignity that I would forgive you, I am a married woman now.’
She turned and walked through the galleries until she found herself in the Indian Court where she had arranged to meet Jonathan. Frustratingly Arthur followed.
‘Was that your husband you were taking tea with? Where is he now?’ Arthur said. ‘He abandoned you to walk about the finest exhibit the world has ever seen on your own.’
‘He had to attend to his business,’ Aurelia said defensively.
‘A businessman?’ Arthur raised his eyebrows again and glanced down his nose. Why had Aurelia never noticed how infuriating the habit was? ‘You married a tradesman. I’m sorry I drove you to this.’
‘I married a good man,’ Aurelia snapped. ‘An excellent man. Better than you could ever know or attempt to mimic.’
‘Mimic?’ Arthur raised his brows in surprise.
‘Yes, mimic. Because any outward signs of goodness that brought you within a mile of Jonathan’s good character would be a sham!’ Aurelia leaned against the wall, weary of the confrontation.
‘You told me that I had broken your heart, yet you sound as if you love him.’
He reached a hand to touch her face, but withdrew it as she glared at him. He sounded genuinely contrite and looked at her with some of the love in his eyes that she had once treasured.
Aurelia smiled. ‘You broke my heart, but Mr Harcourt has mended it and more. Go away, Arthur. My husband will be here soon and I would not wish him to encounter you. And I would not exchange him for one hundred baronets, earls or dukes.’
Arthur leaned towards her as if he was about to embrace her. Aurelia gave him a stern look and he stepped back. He fumbled in his pocket for the note she had given him and pressed it into her hand.
‘Goodbye, Aurelia. I wish you well. Can you wish me the same?’
Aurelia gazed at the man she had once loved, wondering why she ever had. She did not doubt his love for her had been genuine, but it had been a selfish love. He had been willing to risk scandal and the disapproval of his family to win her hand. Such love was not enough to build a marriage on and never would have been.
‘I do wish you well. I hope you find happiness, but it will never be with me. Now goodbye.’
She watched as he walked away with not a single regret in her heart.
Chapter Twenty-One
The scale of the endeavour continued to amaze Jonathan as he made his way to what amounted to a whole weaving shed, with machinery contributed by a whole range of manufacturers. Pride raced through him at the sight of Langdon and Harcourt’s display with fine brocades and silk hanging or half-completed on the loom. Edward was standing talking to a tall gentleman who had his back to Jonathan. Edward was leaning on the cane with the ivory-topped handle he had started to use since his recent bout of illness. Jonathan hated the cane. It was an ever-present reminder that Edward was growing weaker. He looked older, but his expression was as animated as ever. Jonathan was transported back to the first time he had stood opposite Edward outside the mill office so many years ago, never dreaming that he could become Edward’s equal...or friend. Edward caught Jonathan’s eye and gave him a small nod.
‘My partner has arrived at last. Jonathan, allow me to present Viscount Turnott of Street Hatton, Worcestershire.’
The man bestowed an enthusiastic smile on Jonathan, who bowed. He hadn’t been warned to expect the aristocracy and thought gratefully of Aurelia who had given him the confidence to move among higher circles.
‘I was telling your partner how beautiful your fabric is,’ Viscount Turnott said. ‘I am wondering what your capacity would be if I were to place an order. How quickly could you manufacture what I needed? Are these machines powered by water?’
Jonathan explained with enthusiasm what the process was and how his new wheel would drive up production. After ten minutes of conversation, the young Viscount appeared just as enthusiastic about the new technology as Jonathan and Jonathan was on the verge of offering him a personal tour of the mill. They finally drew the conversation to an end.
‘I have friends who I believe would be just as interested as I am,’ Viscount Turnott said. ‘I would like to introduce you to them. We intend to return to the Exhibition every day as there is far too much to see on one visit.’
‘I would be delighted and I agree with your assessment,’ Jonathan said with a laugh. ‘In fact, I have abandoned my wife to explore by herself. Would you deem it terribly rude if I went to find her?’
‘Not at all.’ Viscount Turnott handed Jonathan a card and they bade each other farewell. Jonathan turned the card over to look at it. The young man had seemed an unassuming type of gentleman and yet his card clearly suggested he was a member of the Queen’s household. Jonathan held it out for Edward to inspect.
‘If we are noticed, this will be our making!’
The two men smiled at each other in delight. Jonathan shook his old friend’s hand, temporarily forgetting their quarrel. Edward stiffened and sniffed and Jonathan realised then how much he had missed the friendship.
Jonathan broke away first. Public affection unnerved him. ‘I need to go find Aurelia. I’ve abandoned her for far too long. That’s something I owe you thanks for,’ he said, smiling. ‘You were right about marriage being good for me.’
‘You love her, don’t you?’ Edward said.
Jonathan felt heat spreading across his chest and neck. ‘Yes, I do. It took me longer than it should have to realise how much she meant to me.’
‘And does she know that?’ Edward asked.
‘I’ve never told her. It was not part of our arrangement. I’m not sure she would be pleased to hear it.’
Edward rolled his eyes. ‘If I know Aurelia, I don’t think that will be a concern to her. Tell her before too long.’
Jonathan made his way to meet Aurelia at the elephant. It was later in the afternoon and the great crowds had thinned a little so it was easy to spot her standing in one corner of the room that housed the immense pachyderm.
It was equally easy to spot that she was not alone. A broad-shouldered man with a shock of chestnut hair and a moustache that had clearly been modelled on Prince Albert’s stood beside her. He was resplendent in an immaculately cut suit of grey silk with a black band around one arm.
What was equally clear to Jonathan as he approached was that the two were not strangers, but clearly
knew each other. Jonathan paused and backed against the wall. He could not see Aurelia’s face because she had her back to him, but her companion was speaking and looking grave. Aurelia shook her head and said something. The man leaned closer to listen and his face took on an expression that Jonathan could not fail to recognise.
It was a sentiment he knew well because it was one he felt on a daily basis. This man was in love with Aurelia.
Jonathan froze to the spot, unable to move as he watched the charming fellow flirting with Aurelia. If only he could see her face and understand whether the attention was welcome. Aurelia shook her head and the man leaned forward to press something in her hand and then walked swiftly in the opposite direction from Jonathan.
Jonathan waited until the man was out of the room before he joined Aurelia.
‘I’m sorry I took so long. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long for me.’
She shook her head and gave Jonathan a smile that looked forced.
‘Not at all. I only arrived myself a few moments ago. Did your meeting go well? Was Edward there? You must tell me everything.’
Her face lit with a smile more like the one Jonathan had grown used to. He nodded, but couldn’t bring himself to smile back, knowing that Aurelia was deliberately omitting to tell him what he had seen with his own two eyes.
Secrets, always secrets, he thought. Well, he was determined not to fall into the same trap as his parents had, even if what he discovered tore him to shreds. He felt the pulse in his neck begin to speed and took a breath to calm himself.
‘When I arrived you were talking to somebody. Who was it?’
Aurelia’s face fell, but she quickly blinked and her calm expression returned. Jonathan wondered if she was intending to brazen it out and deny everything, but she pressed her lips together and then looked at him.
‘That was Arthur,’ she whispered.
Jonathan’s throat filled with acid. Of course it would have been Arthur. Who else was in love with Aurelia? Something occurred to him.
‘He was wearing a band of mourning. Who for?’
‘For his wife,’ Aurelia answered. ‘She passed away shortly after Christmas.’
Jonathan felt a wave of nausea. A cold trickle of perspiration down the back of his neck. Aurelia’s former love was free now and they had sought each other out here. His body felt weak with the anticipation of impending sorrow.
‘Did you know this before?’ he asked.
Aurelia nodded. ‘Arthur wrote to me shortly after the event. He asked me to forgive him for what he had done. Dora saved the letter from my father and sent it to me.’
Jonathan searched his memory. Something stirred: a letter from Theodora that he had handed to Aurelia himself one morning. He tried to recall if she had seemed different that evening, but she had seemed distracted or secretive on so many occasions. Even as they drank tea and he had teased her about her dress, she had seemed unsettled at the mention of secrets and now he suspected he had discovered why.
‘And what do you intend to do with that information?’ he asked. His voice sounded harsh in his ears and must have appeared equally forbidding to Aurelia, because she stepped back and her mouth dropped open.
‘I intend to do nothing! I am your wife now.’
For better or worse, Jonathan thought grimly. This very afternoon, when they should have been exploring the exhibition together, he had left her and given them the opportunity to meet. No wonder she had turned to her first love when Jonathan had been so neglectful.
His path became clear, like fog lifting, only to reveal a deep chasm on either side. It would kill him to lose her, but if it meant she could be happy with the man she loved he would not stand in her way. He would not be another Anne Harcourt clinging on to somebody against their will.
He took a deep breath and turned his head away, rapidly blinking to rid his eyes of the sharp tears he knew were almost ready to brim, then turned back to Aurelia.
‘Yes, you are my wife.’ He drew a long, uneven breath. ‘But perhaps that is something we need to discuss.’
Astonishment flashed across Aurelia’s face, then her eyes grew cold.
‘I see,’ she said. She brought her chin up and pressed her lips together hard until they were bone white. ‘As you wish. I would prefer to discuss matters later in a less public place, but let me say this—if you want to end our marriage, then be honest enough to say so and don’t attempt to pretend it is out of a sense of betrayal.’
She gave a strangled sob, spun on her heel and walked swiftly away, pushing through the crowds that gathered around the elephant. Jonathan followed, trying to keep sight of the burgundy and gold gown through the crowds. Was she hoping to catch up with her Arthur? Jonathan wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think so. She had swept off in a different direction. She walked past the central fountain and into the tropical gardens. Jonathan saw her pause and look at the piece of paper in her hand that Arthur had given her. She screwed it up and hurled it into a flowerbed, then carried on walking. She turned back to the main atrium and was swallowed up by the crowds.
Jonathan sagged, feeling all the energy leaving him. She had not objected to his suggestion of ending their marriage, but had jumped to the conclusion that he wished to end it for reasons of his own. He stopped by the flowerbed and picked up the piece of paper that Aurelia had discarded. He spread it out, prepared to torture himself by reading whatever words of love Arthur’s note contained. As he read it became clear to Jonathan that the meeting had been a matter of coincidence, not an intentional plan. He read Aurelia’s reply. They were written in her firm, assured hand, but pressing so hard that it left an impression that went right through the paper. As he read her words Jonathan wanted to curl into a ball of remorse. It was clear that Aurelia had rejected Arthur in the strongest terms possible.
How could he have jumped to such unfounded conclusions?
She didn’t want Arthur. Was it beyond the bounds that she could learn to love Jonathan as he hoped? He had to find her and tell her how greatly mistaken he was and, more importantly, untangle why she thought he would want to be rid of her.
Finding Aurelia, however, proved to be much harder than Jonathan anticipated. He made his way first to the Chinese silks and to every room he thought she might have been interested in. The galleries were still heaving with people and there were so many rooms that Jonathan soon came to the conclusion it would be impossible to locate her. She might be in the room directly above him, one gallery away or at the opposite end of the building and he would be none the wiser. She might have left altogether, although he hoped she would have had more sense than to go off into Hyde Park alone. Wherever she was, she would not be found by Jonathan running from one end to the other with no plan.
He returned to the Machines in Motion gallery. Edward would help him look or would keep watch for Aurelia. Then Jonathan would stay by the exit until he was the last person in the building if it was necessary.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aurelia ran on through the galleries, not caring that she was attracting looks from other visitors. She found a staircase and ascended, hoping the upper floor would be quieter, but it was still teeming with visitors.
Jonathan was having doubts about their marriage. She had scarcely believed what she was hearing when the words came out of his mouth. It was so sudden and she found it hard to believe that merely seeing her in conversation with Arthur had been the catalyst for his decision. She recalled the diary entries she had read and her lip wobbled. Jonathan must have reached the decision of his own accord and this was the pretext he would use to rid himself of the wife who had proved a disappointment.
Her stomach heaved and she felt a swell of nausea. She stopped running, suddenly and painfully out of breath, and leaned against the railings of the balcony that overlooked the central hall. She gripped the railing tightly with one hand while the other pressed a
gainst her belly. She was sure now that she was with child. If that was the case, the matter was more complicated. Jonathan would not find it so easy to rid himself of her and she did not believe he would treat her so ill.
She looked over the edge and the drop made her head spin. From above the women on the ground floor were a mass of colourful flowers and feathers, nets and veils adorned their hats while the men were discs of plain felt and silk. She would never find Jonathan amid them.
‘Miss, do you need help? Are you unwell?’
Aurelia looked round. A woman had stopped beside the railing, her black eyes full of kindly concern.
‘Do you have friends we can find?’ She spoke to the smartly dressed man beside her. ‘Isiah, you go see if you can find someone to help this poor lady.’
‘No! Thank you, but I won’t trouble you,’ Aurelia said, before Isiah could walk away. ‘I know where my friend is. I’ll go to him now.’
Edward would be kind to her. He would help direct her to someone who could find a hansom cab to take her back to the hotel where she could wait for Jonathan and decide what to do next. She thanked the couple and made her way to the gallery where Jonathan was exhibiting. The sound of cogwheels turning, shuttles clattering and other complicated-looking machines going about their business was overwhelming. Aurelia walked slowly through the rows of looms and spinning machines, imagining this must be what it was like daily in Jonathan’s mill. She’d never experienced it and it was unlikely she ever would.
Edward was standing by a machine upon which finished silk was being wound around a great wooden frame. He smiled as he saw Aurelia approaching, then as she drew nearer his face fell.
‘My dear Aurelia, what on earth is the matter? You look so pale,’ he exclaimed, rushing as fast as he could to take her by the hand. ‘Where is Jonathan?’
Aurelia shook her head wordlessly. If she spoke, she would spill out the whole tale and would not be able to stop from sobbing. She bowed her head and felt Edward pat her on the back.
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