Chapter 2
By the time Aurelia reached the front steps of Banfield House, her light brown hair was half-loose, her skirts were damp with dew, and her arms ached from carrying a very unrepentant cat.
Yet, the traitor looked perfectly pleased with himself. He had chased birds, hissed at nobles, and gotten carried home like a king on his throne.
Aurelia, on the other hand, was still fuming.
She hadn’t even wanted to step out this morning. But her mother had insisted that fresh air was good for the complexion, and now here she was, windswept, muddy, and still unnerved from the stranger in the park.
That cold, unpleasant man with a mouth that cut like a sword and eyes that looked like they could see straight through her.
She hadn’t been able to forget the way he had stared at her. Or the way he had insulted her cat.
She was still muttering to herself when the front door swung open, nearly hitting her in the face. But before she could protest or accuse one of her siblings, her mother appeared.
“There you are,” Lady Scovell’s voice rang out sharply like a pin. “You are back. Finally.”
Aurelia blinked, immediately growing suspicious. There was a stark contrast between how her mother had approached her in the morning and now.
“Um, you’re scaring me, Mama.” She cleared her throat before stepping into the manor.
Her mother followed right behind her, waiting for her patiently to set her pet on the nearest cushion. “No time for fear, Aurelia. Your father and I need to speak with you.”
That made Aurelia pause. That was not a promising sentence. Nothing good had ever followed the words, Your father and I need to speak with you.
“For what reason, if I may ask, Mama?”
“Just come with me. You will see.” Lady Scovell stepped closer to squeeze her hand.
Aurelia took a deep breath. That was one eventful day. Then, she nodded her head in acquiescence, handed her gloves and hat to the butler, and followed her mother to the drawing room.
The drawing room was quiet and dim, lit only by the soft flow of the wall lamps. The tall windows were closed due to the evening chill, and the atmosphere was warmed by the heat radiating from the fireplace.
Her father was already waiting there, standing near the fire with a frown etched so deeply on his face that it could have been chiseled by a sculptor.
For Aurelia, this was another sign that the conversation wasn’t going to be about ballrooms and ribbons.
“Aurelia, sit down,” Lord Scovell spoke without preamble, and that alone was warning enough.
So, she sat down, taking a deep breath.
Her mother remained standing, either too nervous or too excited to sit properly. “We have news,” she announced.
Her voice was bright, and she wore an even brighter smile.
Aurelia looked up at her. There was something strange and suspicious about her mother’s sudden cheeriness.
“What kind of news?” she asked, feeling the knots in her stomach tighten.
Lord Scovell cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. Unlike her mother, there was still no trace of joy on his face.
“What kind of news, Papa?” Aurelia repeated, curiosity gnawing at her soul.
“You’re getting married,” Lord Scovell released in a single breath.
The silence that followed was deafening. Aurelia blinked, at a loss for words. Once. Twice. She looked at her mother, then back at her father.
“I—I beg your pardon?” she stuttered, unable to comprehend.
“You’re engaged,” her mother said, her smile turning into a grin. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“No,” Aurelia uttered abruptly, rising from her seat. “It’s not.” She shook her head.
“His solicitor contacted us directly,” her mother added cheerfully, trying to convince her. “A formal proposal. All very respectable. He’s titled, wealthy, and clearly intelligent. He picked you out of all the eligible ladies, my dear.”
“I don’t care about that,” Aurelia said immediately, still shaking her head at the shocking news. She could feel her heart thumping hard against her ribs. “It doesn’t change the fact that he is a stranger—”
“You will meet him soon,” Lord Scovell declared, his tone suggesting that the matter was not open for discussion. No room for debate.
Aurelia’s heart thudded in her ears, feeling like it could burst open any moment now.
She had always known this day would come, that the season wouldn’t go on forever. That eventually, her parents would run out of patience. But at the very least, she had hoped she would meet the man before her life was handed away like a wrapped parcel.
She took a deep breath, deciding to be receptive. “Who is he?”
Her parents looked at each other, and that made her narrow her eyes.
“Why the hesitation? Is he seventy-five? Is he collecting wives like porcelain figurines?”
Her father sighed. “The Duke of Whitmore.”
Aurelia froze.
That name.
It hit her like cold water down the back of her neck. That name that stirred so many rumors.
“Whitmore?” she echoed, her voice thin. “As in, the reclusive duke? The one who hasn’t attended a single gathering in years?”
“The very one,” Lady Scovell confirmed, practically glowing. “Isn’t it splendid?”
“Indeed.” Aurelia laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “You are marrying me off to a ghost?”
Lord Scovell’s jaw clenched. “This is your third Season, Aurelia.”
The harshness of her father’s words hit her like a slap, and the sting reminded her of the brutal truth—that every passing Season without a proposal was a reminder that she was running out of time, and the delay would soon bring shame to their esteemed family name.
“We’ve given you time. Freedom. But now—”
“Now I’m just a burden,” she muttered before she could stop herself. Her voice was a whisper, yet it was sharper than she meant it to be.
Her mother gasped. “What do you mean by that? Don’t you think you sound ungrateful?”
“I’m not,” Aurelia replied, pulling her hands free. “I’m not ungrateful. I just… I didn’t think it would happen like this…”
She sat back down, feeling like her knees would give out. At that moment, Sir Whiskerton sauntered into the room and jumped onto her lap, completely unaware of the panic building in her chest. Or perhaps he was aware and was trying to comfort her in his own way.
Completely unaware of how her thoughts spun fast. Too fast.
She always knew her parents would reach their limit. That one day, they would stop waiting for her to find a match. But deep down, she had always hoped that she would get to choose. That she would at least meet the man before they told all of London that she was taken.
Her mother sighed, breaking the silence. “Sweetheart, your younger sister is about to debut. We can’t have you still unmarried. People are starting to talk.”
That was the statement Aurelia had been waiting for, the reason why they could not wait to marry her off. The fact that she was still a spinster could also delay her younger sister’s debut.
Yet, she could not see the sense in choosing the Duke of Whitmore. No one had seen him in years. Most people didn’t even know what he looked like.
“Nora’s perfectly capable of making her own trouble,” she muttered with a soft sigh.
“I heard that,” a small voice retorted playfully from the hallway.
Aurelia turned at the sound and spotted the two faces peeking through the doorway. Nora and Louis. The double trouble. Her partners in crime.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, their brown eyes wide with curiosity. Nora gave her a look that said, Run, while Louis made a serious face before drawing a finger across his throat.
Aurelia almost smiled despite her predicament. But she quickly masked it with a cough before her parents realized that she still found something amusing to giggle at.
They probably would not care if they had caught a glimpse of her smile anyway.
“Aurelia,” her mother said, “I know this is sudden. But this is your chance to secure your future. Think of what it means to be a duchess.”
Aurelia looked down at her hands.
A duchess.
Her fingers curled as that particular word echoed in her mind.
“A duchess with a husband who hides from the world?” she mumbled. “A man people say keeps his child locked in a tower?”
“That’s just silly gossip,” Lady Scovell stated, waving a dismissive hand.
Lord Scovell let out a deep sigh and cleared his throat. “You’ll meet him soon. He’s agreed to meet at least once before the wedding.”
Wedding.
All of it was happening fast. Worse, it felt so real. And that reality made something sink low in her stomach.
Aurelia pulled Sir Whiskerton to her chest before slowly rising from her seat. Without looking at her parents, she muttered, “Then I guess there’s nothing more to say, is there?”
“You might not see it now, but this is for the best,” her mother replied in a softer tone.
“For the best…” Aurelia repeated, her voice barely audible.
Maybe they believed that. Maybe, in their own way, her parents thought they were doing what was right.
She nodded and, without another word, turned around and made her way out of the room.
But as she climbed up the stairs to her bedroom, her heart still felt heavy, and every step felt harder than the last.
She had always wondered how it would feel when her life was no longer her own. Now, she knew.
And one thought kept echoing in her mind, over and over again.
I don’t even know what he looks like.
Aurelia barely had time to close her bedroom door before it was pushed open again. Without turning to check who the intruders were, she groaned, “Don’t interrogate me.”
However, she knew that the twins, who rushed into her room like a storm and chaos mixed together, were going to do the exact opposite.
“Well?” Nora was the first to speak, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?” Aurelia returned flatly, pulling off her shoes.
“That they’re marrying you off to him,” Louis added, before coming to join her on the bed like an aggressive toddler. “To the Duke of Whitmore.”
Aurelia winced, then she rubbed her temples. “If I say no, will you both leave me in peace?”