by Jaimey Grant
Perhaps her wealth would be enough to placate the inevitable anger he would experience when he discovered the rest.
“Aurora, dear, you are daydreaming again,” Ellie said gently.
Aurora smiled slightly. “I apologize. Please forgive me.”
“It is quite all right, my dear. I think you have a lot on your mind.”
“Yes, I do, but that is no excuse for rudeness.” She smiled again and looked down into her teacup.
She supposed her fiancé would pay a morning call. He would know that he would be welcome now. Aurora hadn’t realized that Miss Ellison had been receiving visitors in her stead, kindly explaining that Aurora was feeling a bit under the weather.
Verena Northwicke patted Aurora’s hand and smiled. “How is Rhiannon, dear?”
“She is fine.” Aurora managed to smile back. “She met Lord Derringer, you know.”
“Did she? Where?”
“He was with Lord Greville in Hyde Park. She asked him for a ride on his horse. Now he is all she talks about. I do believe she is in love with him,” giggled Aurora.
“How utterly charming,” Verena agreed. She sipped her tea and smiled thoughtfully.
“Yes, well.” Aurora turned to Bri who sat on her other side. “How is Callie? I have missed seeing the darling girl.”
Callie was actually Adam’s daughter from his first marriage.
“She is missing Rhiannon,” Bri chided gently, obviously a little annoyed with Aurora for suspending the playtime the children used to share. “Besides that, she is just fine. She cannot wait for her new brother or sister so she has someone to play with all the time.”
“Of course,” Aurora murmured as she took a sip of her own tea.
“Levi was in a very agreeable mood this morning,” Bri commented idly while watching Aurora like a hawk. “He had some errand he said.” A sly look entered her eyes. “I suspect he went to see the archbishop—oh, my!”
“I am sorry,” Aurora apologized. At Bri’s words, she had dropped her teacup, spilling tea on herself and her guest. “Oh, how very clumsy of me.”
“Here, dear,” Miss Ellison said with a long-suffering sigh. “I do hope you are not succumbing to your clumsiness again,” she murmured.
“I don’t think so, Ellie,” Aurora assured her with a grin. “I was startled, was all.”
“By what, I wonder?” commented Bri.
“Are you sure he went to the archbishop?” Aurora asked casually. “I wonder what would take him there?” Her tone attempted disinterest but the look she slanted at her friends told how much she desired an answer.
“Oh, come now, Rory. We are not simpletons! We know you are engaged to marry.”
Bri’s admonishing tone made Aurora color up. “I had not thought it would be known yet.”
Bri snorted indelicately. “How could you think otherwise? It is common knowledge that servants know all. West told us that Vi left long after dark and returned pleased as Punch. Even a simpleton can make the connection and, believe me, servants as a whole are not simpletons.”
Aurora’s face flamed before it went chalk-white. It occurred to her in that moment just how dangerous Desmond Forester could be if he learned of her betrothal. He wanted her money. If he thought another man was about to receive it, he would do what he thought was necessary to prevent it.
“Do you know if he is coming here today?” she asked.
Bri stared at her. “He did not mention his plans but I am sure nothing could keep him away.”
Aurora relaxed slightly. She would be able to talk to him about it at least. “Good,” she told Bri. “I must speak to him.”
“I see,” Bri replied in that tone that implied she saw nothing at all and was only humoring her. It made Aurora grin.
“How are Rhys and Julie?” she asked Verena to change the subject. “And Damien?”
“Wonderful. Into everything and dreadfully spoiled by their father. Damien is crawling now and Con swears that he says papa clear as day. If he does, he chooses not to tell me,” she laughed.
“Have you chosen names for your baby yet?” Aurora asked Bri.
“Believe it or not, Adam has had names picked out since I told him I was enceinte. Jessamyn for a girl and Lucien for a boy. I like both names so I agreed. He let me choose the middle names and how many.”
“How many did you choose?” Verena asked with a tiny quirk of her dark brows.
“Well, Adam has two, so I decided that our sons should, as well. But I like the idea of our daughters to have more than one middle name as well. I chose Verena Kai and Bartholomew Miles.”
“That is lovely,” Aurora smiled. “The tradition in my family is for the daughters to have four names.”
“Indeed? Sounds excessive. What is yours?” Bri asked with genuine interest. As was ever the case with expectant mothers, baby names were of paramount importance.
“Aurora Dilys Melodie Brennen.”
“And Rhiannon’s?” Verena asked.
Aurora froze. If she told them Rhiannon’s full name, Verena would know that she was her daughter and not her sister. When they were little girls, Verena Westbridge and Aurora Glendenning had made a pact to name their firstborn daughters after each other, neither realizing at the time that their future husbands might not have allowed it.
To seal the bargain, they had traded something of great sentimental value. Verena had walked away with Aurora’s treasured pearl pendant from her grandmother. Aurora became the owner of a well-worn copy of Alexander Pope’s Rape of the Lock that had been a gift to Verena from her brother who, since that day, had died at Waterloo. They had both kept the promise, only Verena didn’t know it. Yet.
Aurora took a deep breath and forced herself to smile. She knew Verena wouldn’t have told anyone else of their pact, even Bri, so she was sure that her secret would stay between them. “Dilys Verena Rhiannon Felicity,” she said softly, her eyes never leaving Verena’s.
Verena’s wide violet eyes grew wider and she became very still. Aurora wondered if she would say anything and was greatly relieved when her friend merely frowned.
Thankfully, Bri seemed to have missed the strange undercurrents in the room. “Verena?” she exclaimed. “Did your mama like the name, then?” she asked Aurora.
“Yes,” Aurora lied smoothly. “It had been a particular favorite of hers. And it helped that she liked Doll immensely.”
Verena nearly choked on her tea. Aurora’s mama had never even met Verena. Aurora tried to smile but found it impossible. She was relieved when the butler announced the arrival of the Earl of Greville.
Aurora leapt to her feet and would have excused herself if her fiancé had not chosen that exact moment to enter. She went to greet him instead, striving to hold her sudden unease in check.
~~~~~~
Aurora approached Levi, her hand outstretched. “My lord,” she said formally. His dark brows rose slightly at this gesture but he complied, his lips barely touching her fingers.
When he would have released her, she held tight. Her smile becoming a trifle strained, she asked, “May I have a word with you? In private? Concerning our engagement?”
“That depends on what that word is, of course,” he told her, a tiny smile quirking one corner of his lips. “I refuse to be private with you if you are intending to end our engagement.”
“It is not my intention,” she assured him blandly. “I have a simple question, that is all.”
Levi’s dark eyes scanned the room’s occupants. He saw no reason for her need for privacy and every need not to be alone with her. “Can you not speak here? It may be best if we are alone together as little as possible before the wedding.”
With a tight smile, she acquiesced.
They moved off to one corner, the expression on Aurora’s face revealing the inner turmoil under which she labored. Levi watched her in some concern, taking in the overall feeling of nervous tension emanating from the tiny woman beside him.
She was twisting her hands
just like some Gothic heroine. Levi half expected her to suddenly wail, “Woe is me!”
He reached out and stopped her melodramatic hand-wringing. “Simply tell me, my dear. It is usually best.”
Aurora took a deep breath and squeezed his hands. “Have you been to see the archbishop?” He nodded. She bit her lip, obviously indecisive over her next thought. “Was it for a Special License?” His head bobbed again, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. “May we marry within the week, then?”
That wiped the smile from his face. If he didn’t know any better, and judging by her panicked look, he would suspect she was increasing.
Making sure they were unobserved, he leaned closer, his face deadly intent. “Why?”
“I cannot tell you,” she blurted.
His fingers tightened around hers. “Cannot or will not?”
Her lips twisted into a grimace and she ducked her head, trying to hide her face from his probing look. She had no idea how guilty she appeared as he continued.
“Is this something that will not remain hidden for long?”
Her assent was a barely noticeable bobbing of her blond head.
A colorful curse blistered her ears. “Are you pregnant?”
Her head shot up, her turquoise eyes wide. Her mouth fell open but no words hastened forth.
“Are you?”
“Lower your voice, my lord,” she urged, her eyes darting about. “I am not pregnant and I am insulted that you would think it possible.”
The surprise on his face was not feigned. “How can I not? You hint that there is some reason you must marry within the week. You go so far as to admit that it is something that will not remain hidden. And you fear telling me outright. What does it sound like to you?”
Hearing it all said with the logical conclusion caused pink to tinge Aurora’s cheeks. She hastened to reassure her betrothed of his misunderstanding of the situation.
“Oh, bother. I had not considered. I assure you I am not and could not be pregnant.” Her blush deepened.
He studied her intently, his dark brown eyes boring into hers, searching for the answers she would not reveal. Realizing that not only was she completely serious about wedding within a week, she was also extremely desperate to do so. He acquiesced.
Her sigh of relief was heartfelt. “Oh, wonderful.”
“Have you considered the damage marrying so quickly will do to your reputation? Even if you and I know we have not anticipated our vows, others will not be so generous.”
She waved a hand carelessly in the air. “I am already ruined by speech, my lord. There is no cause to fret about more talk now.”
As she moved to rejoin her other guests, Levi grasped her hand. “I have something for you,” he said, pressing a small box into her palm.
She took it, her slim fingers closing over the object as a stunned expression crossed her charming features. “What is it?”
A little stunned at her reaction, he grinned. “A gift. As my betrothed it is quite proper for me to give you a gift. I assure you it will not damage your reputation further to accept it.”
He didn’t know what to think when all she did was stare at the object, her face creased in thought.
*
Chapter Twelve
After what she’d revealed, Aurora knew Verena would want answers. Whether or not she’d actually mention it, however, was another matter entirely.
Verena Northwicke tried to be proper at all times. Aurora was well aware that the majority of Verena’s pluck could more recently be attributed to her friendship with the notoriously improper Lady Rothsmere, wife of Sir Adam Prestwich.
She was not taken completely by surprise, therefore, when Verena approached her and asked for a word in private.
Excusing herself to Lord Greville, Aurora clutched the gift she’d so recently received and followed her friend to the sitting room, where the pale, soothing colors failed to reach her.
When Aurora lingered in the doorway Verena took her empty hand and tugged her over to a settee. Aurora gave in to the inevitable and sat, Levi’s gift a disturbing yet comforting presence between her folded hands.
“I realize you may find this uncomfortable,” Verena began, her face revealing her own unease, “but it is too much of a coincidence, is it not? Rhiannon having my name after the promise we made to each other. Did you tell your mother?”
“No.”
“I thought not. Rhiannon is your daughter.”
“Yes.”
Aurora could feel her friend’s dark eyes on her, probing, looking for answers that Aurora was too ashamed to reveal. She knew monosyllabic responses were unsatisfactory and she desperately searched for the words that would satisfy her friend while retaining as much of her dignity as possible.
It was with a definite lowering of spirits that she realized there were no dignified explanations.
“You will be so disappointed in me,” she said, biting her lip.
Verena shrugged, her pretty face tensing for a moment. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I will still consider you my dearest friend no matter what you tell me.”
Smiling slightly—it was really more of a grimace—Aurora nodded. “Rhiannon is my daughter. She doesn’t know that, of course. No one does. Except Lord Derringer and now you.”
“You have not told Levi? And why does Lord Derringer know?”
Aurora frowned. “His grace decided to poke around in my affairs and discovered Rhiannon’s father. Derringer is the veriest busybody.”
Verena actually snorted—if a lady could be said to snort. “His grace is King of the Busybodies. But that doesn’t matter. Have you told Levi?”
“No. I don’t see why I should need to.”
Verena’s expression told Aurora how incredibly naïve she thought that statement was. “I don’t think that is something you can hide from him, my dear.”
Aurora looked away, her brow furrowing. She knew Verena spoke the truth but was unwilling to admit it, even to herself.
So she shook her head, changed the subject, and stubbornly refused to be drawn. After a few more attempts to make her see reason, Verena gave up, suggesting they return to the drawing room.
~~~~~~
Derringer, who was still in Town despite his always-imminent plans to depart, was not surprised when Levi burst into his house in St. James’s Square and announced that he was engaged to Miss Glendenning. He was a little unnerved, however, when Levi’s good humor suddenly fled and he slumped into the leather armchair in the duke’s study.
Derringer handed him a brandy and lowered his tall form into the chair across from him. “What’s to do, Vi? You look blue-deviled.”
“She is hiding something,” the earl muttered. He downed the fiery liquid in one gulp and held his glass out to be refilled. Derringer obeyed wordlessly and waited for his friend to continue. “She wouldn’t even look at the gift I gave her and she wants to marry within the week. After the effort I went to in order to get her agreement, it is exceedingly odd that she suddenly cannot wait.”
Derringer sighed. “Has this something to do with that Forester fellow?” he asked after a moment.
“I think so; she will not say. In fact, when I asked her why she wanted to marry so quickly, she said she could not tell me.”
Derringer stared at Levi. “I should not tell you this, Vi, but that girl has got more secrets than you would ever imagine.”
“Why do you always refer to her as that girl?” asked Levi with a sudden lowering of his brows. “It sounds very disrespectful of my intended.”
The duke laughed mirthlessly. “Don’t try to reprimand me, Levi Greville. I’ll not have it.” He shrugged one black-clad shoulder. “Besides, I intended no insult. I like your Rory.”
Levi’s brows shot up. “You do? But you hate everyone.”
That made the duke grin. “I do, generally, as a rule. But your little Rory has a backbone. And I think she is perfect for you. Provided she confesses.”
“Do you know so
mething about Forester?”
“I know many things about Forester,” was Derringer’s evasive reply.
“Such as…?” Levi leaned forward and demanded.
“He is a greedy snake with no conscience or morals. He gets by on his looks and the fact that he has enough money to be acceptable. He was your Rory’s neighbor and Verena Northwicke’s as well. Although I doubt Lady Connor has even met him,” he said thoughtfully. “He is dangerous in that he will stab a man in the back before accepting an honorable challenge.”
“Or he will accept the challenge and hire someone to sit in a tree with a rifle,” inserted Levi with a dark look. “I should kill the bastard.”
“I would enjoy doing that myself, if I were the type to help someone. But you know I am not. I do like to see justice done, however.”
“Justice according to you.”
The duke grinned. “Naturally.” He sipped his own drink, repressing the urge to wrinkle his nose. Despite the belief that he was little better than a sot—a belief the duke wholeheartedly approved of—Derringer was not overly fond of strong spirits.
“When does your mama leave, Vi?” the duke asked in a sudden change of subject.
“Soon, I hope. Should I kill him?” Levi was not to be denied.
“No, he is not worth hanging for.”
“I wouldn’t hang. I’m an earl.”
Derringer waved this away, viewing it all as unimportant. There were ways to the rid the world of a nuisance without resorting to murder. When it came right down to it, there were ways to kill without committing murder.
Just look at the whole concept of war.
Levi was talking again. “Why is he plaguing Rory, do you think?”
Derringer’s face took on a closed expression and his lids lowered partially to conceal his black eyes. He shrugged and finished his brandy. He knew his deliberate air of mystery would make Levi think and perhaps he could get the girl to confess before they married. They were bound for a rough start if she was determined to keep her past a secret.
Why this should bother him was a mystery. Other people’s relationships and problems had never occupied the duke’s thoughts before. He always tried to stay out of the personal lives of his friends in the hope that they would do the same. The last thing he needed was someone discovering what he was up to and effectively putting a stop to it or bungling it in the attempt to help. He had gotten very good at keeping everyone at arm’s length and he couldn’t take a chance in ruining it all now.