Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The musical recital took place in London, and Aurelia dressed with special care.
This would be her first public outing as the Duchess of Ravenhall.
That wasn’t her primary reason for being seen—although it did matter to her that everyone knew she and Sebastian were husband and wife—but it certainly was an excellent reason to look her best.
Perhaps she would even see the Duchess of Fenwick? This was precisely the sort of event the duchess would attend.
She wondered if the duchess even knew about her. No doubt she knew Sebastian had married, but did she know to whom? There had been an announcement, but it had been vague, and would the duchess connect Aurelia with the Miss Dufort referenced?
If she did, things might get messy.
Aurelia squared her shoulders. This mattered. If they were ever to show their faces in public, they would have to face such risks at some point. And repairing the damage that Sebastian’s reputation had endured was Aurelia’s priority.
No matter how unpleasant it might be.
Sebastian came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, disturbing the rose chiffon Jane had carefully dressed her in.
“Careful,” she cautioned, giggling a little as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You’re going to ruffle me before we even leave the house.”
“Mm.” He inhaled, taking in the scent of her perfume. “You look stupendous, Aurelia.” Turning her, he kissed her. “Do we have time?”
“No!” She pressed a finger to his lips. “There is definitely no time if we want to be on time.”
“I have conceived a dislike of being on time. We could be late and make an entrance.” He nuzzled her neck under her ear. “Or, better still, let us not go at all.”
She laughed. “Sebastian.”
“Let us pretend you dressed up for my sake and allow me to remove this delectable dress from you.” He slid his hand down to her derrière, squeezing and pressing her against him, where she could feel that, regardless of his motives, he was most definitely interested in this course of action.
“The recital will go on whether we attend or not…”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. She felt his smile curve his lips.
“So?” he asked. “Is that a yes?”
“No, but I do think it’s sweet that you’re nervous.”
He scowled. “I’m not nervous.”
“Yes, you are, and it’s all right. I know it’s been some time since you were last in London.”
“Aurelia,” he said with the air of wearied patience. “I’m not nervous.”
She beamed up at him. “Of course you’re not.
Come, then. The carriage will be waiting for us.
” She paused only to take a wrap from where it had been laid out for her.
She also had a cloak for the journey, which Sebastian helped fasten around her shoulders.
Arm in arm, they went downstairs and to where the carriage waited out front for them.
An hour ride, and they would be at the concert.
Aurelia’s stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation and excitement.
Her hand instinctively found Sebastian’s as they sat together, side by side on the seat. A heated brick had been placed on the floor, along with some blankets, and he spread one over her lap. Her dress, she reflected, would be very unlikely to survive.
“This is my first time appearing in society as someone,” she murmured. “I wish my mother was alive to see me now.”
He squeezed her hand. “She would have been proud of you.”
“I know she made some mistakes—being a gentleman’s mistress is not a choice many women make, perhaps. But she was a wonderful, very caring woman. She just fell in love with the wrong gentleman, and we can’t help who we love, can we?”
She’d thought him to be staring at her, but when she glanced up at him, he was looking out the window. Dusk had fallen, the trees blooming from the gloom, fresh with new spring growth.
“Can we not help who we love?” he asked gravely.
“I think when the heart wants something, it takes it. Even if it makes you miserable after.” She thought of her mother. She never once mentioned the man she had fallen in love with, either out of respect or because he had betrayed her on such a grand scale.
Aurelia could never imagine falling in love with someone so deeply that she would risk everything to be with him—not the way her mother had done. If her uncle hadn’t lived in the city, where would her mother have gone, abandoned and alone?
She had chosen the object of her love poorly. But the heart wanted what it wanted.
“Do you think he knows I exist?' she asked abruptly into the darkness. Sebastian looked at her now. “My father. Do you think he knows about me and just... doesn’t care?”
His arms tightened around her. “If he knows and stayed silent, he is a coward and a fool. If he doesn’t know...” His voice went hard. “Your mother protected him. Even after he abandoned her. That’s not love, Aurelia. That’s something else.”
Sebastian felt as though his skin was itching all over when they finally arrived at the small music hall where the recital was to take place.
It had been such a long time since he had come to London in order to be seen.
The last official time had been the masquerade, but then he had known no one would recognize him.
He handed Aurelia down from the carriage.
Initially, marrying her had seemed an excellent idea. She needed a home, and he needed an unexacting, grateful wife. But now, some part of him was painfully aware of her low birth. She brought scandal with her, inevitably.
As did he.
In that sense, they were the worst kind of pairing, destined to bring each other down.
She tucked her hand in his arm, and he smiled at the doorman who ushered them inside.
The scent of perfume and old wood greeted them.
The building was an old one, several hundred years at least, with beams stretching over the ceiling and thick stone walls.
Seating had been laid out for the guests, and he guided Aurelia to a chair, nodding at faces as he passed them.
Though it had been some time since he had last been an active member of the ton, he still recognized plenty of people. There was the Duchess of Fenwick, staring at them both with her jaw hanging wide.
Of course.
No doubt seeing Aurelia on his arm was a surprise.
When Aurelia saw the duchess, she jerked, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“I don’t suppose I ever mentioned…” she began with forced calm, looking at the stage—currently devoid of any musicians.
“But the Duchess of Fenwick dismissed me just before your Mr. Arnold found me. Really, it was very providential.”
Sebastian leaned closer, feeling eyes on them. “She dismissed you?”
“She disliked that her nephew attempted to take advantage of me, and I refused his advances.”
The words hit him like a shot.
For a moment, he didn’t move. Couldn’t
Her nephew, the Earl of Redwood. Sebastian had been around him infrequently, but he knew the man was a licentious drunkard, free with his hands and no doubt believing he was entitled to the attention of young, beautiful women so long as they were not of his rank.
Then pure rage surged through him, sudden and white-hot. Redwood. Had that bastard touched her? Tried to take something she hadn’t offered—and blamed her for denying him? If Sebastian could’ve left the room that instant, he would have hunted Redwood down and planted a barrel against his smug face.
How dare he lay a hand on her.
How dare he presume she would ever welcome it.
And worst of all—how dare he make her afraid.
He felt his blood boil.
Aurelia placed a gentle hand on his arm, and he suddenly felt some of that violent rage dissipate. “Don’t,” she whispered.
“They had no right to treat you like that,” he growled.
“But who won in the end?” She tugged at his arm, forcing him to look at her. Her eyes were large and earnest. “I married you, and Lord Redwood will frolic until he’s old, grey, and miserably lonely.”
Sebastian didn’t bother informing her that if Lord Redwood had wanted to marry, he might have done so easily enough, and although it would not have been a love match, or even a marriage with mutual respect, it would still have fulfilled its purpose, which was to produce heirs.
That was the only reason many men married; why, in the ton, marriages were treated with the care of political treatises.
Men such as Lord Redwood had no personal desire for a wife, and he would not think his life missing a thing without it.
Still, here was not a place to kick up a fuss. He would seek out another means of getting back at the man.
There would be ways.
He forced himself to relax—helped immensely by Aurelia’s touch, keeping him on earth—and was guided to a nearby seat.
Aurelia smiled beside him, sitting up very straight. In her beautiful chiffon gown, she looked every inch the duchess. The seats on either side of them were empty, but he knew that would not last long—and indeed it didn’t.
The Duchess of Fenwick, her smile like poison, came to sit on Aurelia’s other side. “My…” she uttered by way of greeting. “How you’ve moved up in the world.”
Aurelia gave a giggle that was very unlike her. “Do you like my husband? He is exceedingly handsome.”
The duchess reached across and tapped her fan against Sebastian’s arm. “Cruel of you to take such a decision when you refused to answer any of my letters or invitations.”
Sebastian was not so na?ve as to be unaware that she only ever wrote or sent invitations because she wanted a taste of the gossip that swirled around him. “I wasn’t under the impression I was required to ask you for permission, duchess.”
“Oh, well, of course not.” She simpered, but there was a hard light in her eyes. No doubt she saw this as a personal slight.
After hearing what her nephew had done to Aurelia, Sebastian was happy to consider it one.
“I hadn’t so much as known you were acquainted,” the duchess said with another poison-sweet smile. “Did you know that our dear Duchess of Ravenhall lived under my roof for a time?”
Sebastian returned her sickly smile. “I did. And I also heard that Lord Redwood made some inappropriate advances and offered her no honorable offer in compensation.” The pleasantry dropped from his expression. “It seemed only right that I repair the damage.”
The duchess’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Is that so?”
“I believe in honor,” he muttered.
“And is it honorable to offer your name to a girl who has no decent name of her own?” The duchess spat the words out, under her breath for now, but Sebastian knew it was only a matter of time before she would make her accusations far louder.
“Is that what you think your dear parents would want for you?”
Aurelia stiffened, her hands clasping one another, her back painfully straight now.
Sebastian took her hand in his. “The heart wants what it wants,” he said, mimicking her words from earlier. “And I see nothing more honorable in offering a good woman a good life.”
“No, indeed.” The Duchess of Fenwick rose in a swirl of skirts and an air of outrage. “I suppose the two of you are perfect together in that regard.”
“I suppose the two of you are also,” he answered mildly.
Aurelia’s fingers trembled as they wrapped around his, and she released a long, shaky breath.
“I am not insensible of the honor he offers me,” she said to the duchess’s retreating back.
“But is our birth the only maker of virtue? Do one’s actions not also leave a mark?
” She paused, the implicit reference to Lord Redwood stinging the air between them.
“I would rather have the birth I received and be proud of the person I grew to be than have a high-ranking mother and father—only to become cruel and entitled with my privilege.”
Sebastian inclined his head in the mockery of a bow. “Your Grace.”
The Duchess of Fenwick’s jaw clenched, and she returned to her seat halfway across the room without another word.
Aurelia released a long, shaky breath. “I always knew she would be vindictive,” she whispered. “But you did not have to imply that you married me because Lord Redwood would not.”
“Well, he ought to have done,” Sebastian replied. “Or at least, if he was going to attempt to take advantage of you, he ought to have offered you marriage.”
“I would never have wanted to accept.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted you to either.” He shot her a sharp glance. Imagining her as the wife of that brute made him feel somewhat sick inside. “But the fact remains that the man is a pathetic snivelling opportunist, and his aunt ought to feel it.”
She squeezed his arm. “Thank you for defending me.”
He wished they had never come. Being the center of attention had never been his favorite thing, but especially not now. A few others approached them, cozying up to him and Aurelia as though they were longstanding friends rather than mere acquaintances.
Aurelia knew even fewer of them. She kept her chin up, smiling prettily, and Sebastian reflected that at least the world would now know that he had a beautiful wife. That would not, in their eyes, make up for her lack of birth, but it was something.
If she had been plain, as he’d originally hoped, this would all be entirely different.
Still, as the musicians finally filed onto the stage in preparation to play, the only thing Sebastian knew with any certainty was that this appearance had been a mistake.