by Aria Norton
Two bright spots of colour had appeared on Aurora’s cheeks, but they only served to enhance her youthful beauty. She was captivating, and Carlos wished to say so, but he couldn’t overload her with words and gestures she was not accustomed to. Instead, he placed her hand on his forearm and smiled encouragingly.
“Darling, do introduce me to your lovely friends. I’m afraid that I have been selfish in keeping you to myself since the day you agreed to become my wife, but now I shall have to share you until we return home.”
Aurora’s head tilted slightly, two little lines appearing between her brow. Her green orbs held surprise and would give away their lie. With a slight tap on her hand, he widened his eyes once and used them to point at the women. I hope you can understand what I’m trying to convey to you. Introduce me to your friends, act naturally. Still frowning, she blinked once and turned to her so-called friends.
“Samantha, Meredith, Juliet, Cassandra, allow me to introduce Carlos Fernandez, my husband. He is a well-known merchant and has travelled the world extensively. We were married this spring.”
The women looked at each other briefly, a secret message passing between them. Did she just call me her husband? Aurora had never said it before, but hearing her say it warmed him.
Samantha flipped her fan open, fanning her face. “The very same Carlos Fernandez, who has dined with sultans, had princesses fall in love with him, and wrestled an African crocodile?”
Oh, so they did know something about him. “It was only one princess, and the crocodile wasn’t large.”
Admiration shone in the women’s faces as they regarded him with new eyes. He snuck a peek at Aurora, who seemed taken aback by what the woman had said. I wish she would look at me with admiration.
“You simply must tell us how you met, Aurora!” Samantha insisted. “And have I told you how stunning you look in your dress?”
Carlos watched his wife briefly look at her dress. “Oh, thank you. Carlos gifted it to me,” she said truthfully.
“Imported silk from China, and pearls from the depths of the sea,” he boasted for her sake. “I want only the best for my darling wife. My apologies, ladies, but I’m afraid that I have to draw my wife away.”
“Oh, so soon?” Samantha complained. “Do join us for a promenade in Hyde Park tomorrow, Aurora. We would love to hear about what we have missed in your life. Promise us that you will join us?”
Aurora floundered, making some sounds, but no words left her lips. Once again, Carlos stepped in.
“She will send word tomorrow, ladies. My wife is a busy woman and is in demand in many places – I can hardly keep up with the invitations she has received! I must admit that I take up much of her time, but she loves me dearly, so she humours me.”
Carlos kissed the back of her hand again, this time feeling her hand clench around his. He moved his face away just in case she decided to give him a backhanded blow.
“Oh, well, perhaps another day?” Samantha asked, somewhat disappointed.
“Perhaps,” Carlos answered, drawing Aurora away.
As soon as they were out of earshot, she stopped him. “Why did you lie?”
“When?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do not pretend not to know. Besides all the lies about our marriage, you told them that I had received many invitations.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I am confident that before the night is spent, you will have several invitations to keep you busy for days to come.”
“How long will we stay in London? I thought that once the ball is over, we will return home.”
Carlos’ guilt returned to him full force. “Do you not like London? I thought we might stay awhile.”
“Oh.”
“Why not look on the bright side?” he offered. “You have been a great success this evening. Not one person has spoken against you, and they all seem to be interested in you.”
He was proud that Aurora had held together so well despite her fears. His wife had been admired, and people had seemed curious about her new life.
“I suppose that is a relief,” she admitted. “But ’tis best not to count your chicks until they have hatched.”
Carlos was about to say something, but he paused when he heard a familiar name announced.
“The Count and Countess of Santa Sessa.”
Carlos spun around, his heart beating wildly. There, standing just a few feet away from him, stood the man he had longed to see for much of his life. The first thing he noticed was their similarities in height, colouring, and features. Lydia was right about our striking resemblance. ’Tis like I am looking at an older version of myself.
His eyes moved to his father’s right and stopped. There was no mistaking his aunt; Lydia had explained her so well that Carlos felt he could have found her in a sea of look-a-likes. He began to tremble as a burning hatred engulfed him. This was the woman who had killed his mother and kept a son from his father. No one would tell just by looking at her that she had an evil heart, but Carlos knew very well what this woman was capable of.
He wanted to sprint across the room and confront her before everyone, to see her cowering at his feet. The need was so great that he fought hard to control it, clenching and unclenching his hands. A smaller hand slipped into his own, startling him. Carlos looked down, all thoughts of his father and Alba flying out of his mind as he stared at Aurora’s hand in disbelief. She had willingly touched him!
“You seem tense. Is there something wrong?” she enquired.
Sincere concern was etched all over her lovely face, knocking the breath out of him. Carlos couldn’t speak, couldn’t utter a word. Something shifted within him, like a dislodging of a weight and something else clicking into place. The spell that Aurora had unwittingly cast over him broke the second she pulled her hand away.
“Carlos, are you unwell? Would you prefer we return home?”
He gave a slight head shake, clearing the mist in his mind. “I’m well. I’m merely surprised to see the Conde de Santa Sessa here. I know a little about him,” he added carefully.
“Indeed? I know him as well, or rather, my father knows them well. I haven’t seen him since I was a child, though.”
Carlos scratched the side of his temple, his mind not quite grappling with what Aurora had just told him.
“You know the Conde? Is that right?”
“I suppose when I was a little girl, but not now. Why do you ask?”
If only she knew! To put it simply, Carlos was stunned. If I had known about this beforehand, I would have used it to my advantage! He wouldn’t have needed this ball, and he could have spared Aurora her anxiety. This changes things, and for the better. It should be much easier gaining an audience with him with Aurora by my side. Carlos searched for his father, finding him speaking to the Earl and Countess of Totnes. It’s now or never.
“Will you introduce me to them?”
“Why would I do such a thing? I doubt he will recall who I am.”
What do I say to convince her? He searched for the words to say, his mind scrambling in haste. “Well, uh, they seem like interesting people. Surely ’tis not hard to do something as simple as introducing me? After all, you do know them even if you haven’t seen them in some years. Please.”
He grimaced. His ‘please’ sounded a tad too desperate, but Aurora didn’t seem to notice. She appeared reluctant, but she nodded.
“Very well. I don’t know if he will recognise me, but when I see an opportunity, I will introduce you.”
Carlos wanted to tell her to do it now, but he bit his tongue. Aurora was a woman of her word, so if she said that she would do something, she would sure enough. He had come this far – surely he could wait a little longer?
The last ten minutes had been the longest minutes of Carlos’ life, but finally, they were making their way to his father. His stomach turned over as they came to a stop before the count, waiting for the man to lift his head. Carlos paid no attention to Alba, not wanting to ruin the moment
he would finally meet his father. Running his tongue over his dry lips, Carlos hoped that the first words out of his mouth wouldn’t make him look like a fool.
“My Lord?” Aurora politely called.
The count looked up, recognition quickly dawning in his eyes. “Little Aurora? Is that really you?”
Carlos faintly smiled at the man’s thick accent. I would have had the same if I had grown up in my country instead of living like fugitives in Portugal.
“You remember?” Aurora asked, surprised.
“How could I forget? You’re the spitting image of your mother! How are you?”
The count stood up, embracing Aurora in a bear hug. He put her away from him, looking her up and down.
“My, you have grown into an enchanting little creature, yes? But you are not so little anymore! You must have been six when I last saw you. Tell me, do you still give your father trouble?”
Aurora’s cheeks bloomed. “Not so much now that I am married. May I introduce my husband to you? My Lord, this is Carlos Fernandez.”
Carlos tried to smile as she placed her hand on his arm, his wife none the wiser to how he was feeling at that moment as his father’s eyes finally fell on him. He could hardly breathe as the count’s faintly frowning gaze assessed him. Does he recognise me? Can he feel a connection? All these questions and more buzzed in Carlos’ head as he returned the count’s steady stare, his belly quivering.
“You seem familiar, Mr Fernandez,” his father finally said. “Where do you come from? I take it from your colouring that you are not English?”
Carlos coughed once, clearing his throat. “I am from Portugal, My Lord.”
“Portugal?”
The question came from Alba. Fighting the pure hatred he felt for her, he gave a tight smile.
“Yes, my lady – Portugal. However, I have been travelling for some years and call England my home when I am not on the ship.”
Alba nodded, but the suspicion in her eyes let him know that the wheels of her mind were turning. I hope that she has not recognised me. It would ruin Carlos’ plans if the woman came to know who he was before he could reveal it to his father.
“Well, it’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr Fernandez,” the count said, holding out his hand.
Carlos took it with near reverence, hardly able to believe that he was not only talking to his father but shaking hands with him.
“Please, call me Carlos,” he insisted. “And ’tis a pleasure meeting you as well. I still have much to learn about my wife’s life before I met her.”
“Then perhaps we should have lunch and remember the good old days, eh?” the count said. “I would love to know what little Aurora has been doing since I last saw her.”
“That would be great!” Carlos immediately answered, then turned his excitement down a smidgen. “I mean, I would love to know of my wife’s childhood from a family friend.”
“Then ’tis settled,” the Count declared. “I will have Alba send the invitation tomorrow with a day and time. Only tell us where you are living in London, and our footman will come to you.”
This was going better than Carlos could have ever imagined! Were things finally working out for him?
“Thank you, My Lord,” said Aurora. “We would be delighted to pay you a visit.”
You have no idea just how much of a delight this is. Finally, Carlos’ dream of getting justice for his mother and being restored to his birthright was on its way to becoming a reality.
Chapter 20
Aurora handed Carlos his teacup, careful to keep their fingers from touching. He took it with a murmured word of thanks, hardly looking at her. She sat down with her own cup, wondering why she continued to spend time with the man she was supposed to loathe.
Having tea at midday in the parlour had become a habit for them. Aurora had no notion of how it came to be, but she had come to somewhat enjoy the conversations they had. However, today Carlos had hardly said two words to her. Aurora watched him over the rim of her teacup, scarcely aware that the tea was scalding her tongue until the growing pain alerted her. She hissed, quickly grabbing a sugar cube and putting it against her tongue.
“What are you doing?” Carlos questioned. “Did you just put an entire sugar cube on your tongue?”
She nodded, not yet able to speak. Melting the cube with the heat of her mouth, she swallowed and tested her tongue.
“It feels better, but I burnt it rather severely.”
“You burnt your tongue? Why? Is the tea too hot? Would you like me to add more milk to it?”
Carlos was on his feet within seconds. He had the milk jug suspended in the air before she could even object.
“No, I do not need more milk. I simply did not pay attention to how I was drinking it, but the sugar has helped.”
He appeared sceptical. “Sugar soothes a burnt tongue?”
“Certainly. Nanny taught this to me when I was quite young, and it has stayed with me. Were you never taught it?”
She watched him settle back on his seat, crossing his legs. “I can’t say I was. It seems odd that you burnt your tongue when I know that you’re so careful about your tea. Was your mind somewhere else?”
If I tell you the truth, you will not believe me. How was she supposed to tell him that she had noticed his changed behaviour without revealing that it actually mattered to her? I do not want him thinking that I care about him. But did she? Let me not get into that right at this moment.
“My mind was on my next trip to Bond Street,” she lied. “I saw the most magnificent pair of shoes in a shop window. I hope they are still there.”
“Oh. Why did you not buy them? Do you need more money?”
Money on top of the hundreds of pounds he had already given her? Not only that, but Carlos had spoken to several shop owners and asked them to send him her bills instead of charging her. What was she supposed to do with all the money she had if she couldn’t use it? There is generosity, and there is ludicrous behaviour. He is bordering on the latter.
“Heavens no! I have more than enough, thank you. In fact, I think it better if you take some and put it back in your coffers.”
“Our coffers,” he insisted. “And I will not take back something I have given my wife. Your nip money is yours to enjoy.”
Aurora could have laughed. He calls it nip money, but I call it a salary. Carlos was as good as paying her to be his wife. He needn’t do that. As much as it pains me to admit this, but ’tis not such a hardship being his wife. Probably because she had no wifely duties to fulfil. My marriage has not been what I thought it would be. Carlos has not demanded anything of me beyond some of my time, and beyond the ball, I have not been asked to do anything unpleasant. Not that the ball had been altogether unpleasant. No one had ostracised her, criticised her, or even brought up the past. They had been interested in her present life, and by the end of that night, she had received over ten invitations to call on people while others had asked to call on her.
“Aurora?”
“Hmmm?”
“Did you hear a word I said? You seem far away again. Are you thinking about those shoes? We can send one of the servants to get them for you. Or better yet, I shall go. What was the name of the shop?”
Even if there had been a pair of shoes to buy, I still would not send him. It seemed odd to send a man to buy women’s things.
“Never mind that, Carlos.”