Chapter 2 #2
“Absolutely not.” Nora finally reached the edge of the bed and sat on it with her legs crossed. “We want every horrible detail. Did he propose in person? Was a gun pointed at your back? Did Mother faint with happiness?”
Aurelia sighed and stood up once again. She crossed the room and sat down slowly at her dressing table, taking a moment to remove her jewelry while observing the tiredness in her gaze.
“He didn’t propose at all,” she admitted quietly. “He sent a message. Like one might send for a new horse.”
Louis laughed dryly. “Romantic.”
“Very,” Aurelia muttered. “I’m practically blushing.”
Nora leaned forward to meet Aurelia’s gaze through the mirror. “Do you know what they say about him?”
“Vague things,” Aurelia replied in a tone that hinted she already knew what her siblings were about to say.
“They say he has a scar across his cheek from a duel,” Nora whispered. “And that he won’t show his face in public because he’s horribly disfigured.”
Louis nodded. “And one of his footmen once ran away screaming in the middle of the night. Said he saw something terrible in the east wing,” he chimed in with a face as solemn as his words.
“Oh, stop it.” Aurelia breathed deeply, then turned around to face the twins. “You’re making him sound like a character from a gothic novel.” She gave a tired laugh.
“Except this is not fiction,” Nora countered, before rising with great enthusiasm. Aurelia had never seen her so interested in talking about someone before. “They say he only walks the halls at night, probably to hide his beastly face. His servants never speak, and he—”
“Nora,” Aurelia interrupted with a deep breath. “Please. I’m already being sold to a stranger. I don’t need him to be a phantom, too.”
Nora paused, and her lips curled into a sympathetic smile. She moved closer to her and reached out to gently tuck a loose curl of hair behind Aurelia’s ear. “I’m sorry. I just… I’m worried.”
“Everyone is, to be honest.” Louis sat up a little straighter, and they looked at him. “No one knows anything about him. No one has seen his child. Some people say she is dead.”
Something about his last words made the room go quiet.
“Or she is not. No one’s sure,” he added in a much softer tone to assuage the fear now evident on his sister’s face.
Aurelia swallowed. Without saying a word, she stood up and crossed to the window, needing some air.
Outside, the sky had already turned midnight black. The same sky that had been so bright during the entire miserable morning.
“What if it’s all just rumors?” she said, mostly to herself. “What if he’s just a private person?”
Louis scoffed. “So private that he sends for wives the way people send for parcels?”
“That’s enough,” Nora said quickly, reaching across the bed to smack his shoulder. “Let her breathe.”
Aurelia turned away from the window, her back straight, her voice calm—calmer than she felt. “Whatever he is… he’s still a duke. It’s a good match. Better than most.”
“But do you want it?” Nora asked, her voice small.
Aurelia opened her mouth. But then she closed it. She looked at her sister, who stared back at her with wide, hopeful eyes.
Do I want it?
The question echoed in her mind, reminding her of a list she had written in her journal when she was eighteen. The one she had rewritten every year since, neatly folded and tucked away like a prayer. The list contained activities she had to do to impress her parents.
Get along with high society.
Have an impeccable reputation.
Get married.
Perform my duties perfectly.
Bear an heir.
And yet she had failed. Year after year. Ball after ball.
Her parents had given up hoping. Now, they had taken matters into their own hands.
And somewhere inside her, the quiet little voice that helped her create that list was not whispering to her that maybe this was the only way.
“I want to be useful,” she said finally. “I want to be… something my family can be proud of.”
“You already are.” Louis frowned.
“Not in their eyes,” Aurelia countered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Nora crossed to her. “We don’t care about what they see. We care about you. You, Aurelia. You’re not a disappointment. You’re not a burden.”
“I am if I ruin your debut,” Aurelia argued, her smile turning wry.
“I’ll survive.” Nora rolled her eyes. “To be honest, I don’t think I’m ready for marriage.”
Aurelia let out a soft laugh before pulling her sister into a hug. Although Nora groaned—a sign of being crushed—she didn’t pull away.
“Whatever happens,” Nora murmured against her shoulder, “we’re with you. Even if he’s a beast. Especially if he’s a beast.”
“And if you need rescuing,” Louis added from his perch on the bed, “I have a stick. A very long one.”
Aurelia let out a chuckle, a genuine one this time. “Good to know.”
She sighed softly, her arms still wrapped around Nora. Somehow, her siblings always made everything feel better, and she knew she would have felt better still if Celia had been around.
The twins left a few minutes later, after promising not to listen at her door for any signs of tears—a promise she knew they wouldn’t keep. When she was alone, she curled up on the window seat, with Sir Whiskerton nestled in her lap.
She stroked his fur while watching the darkness outside, and her mind drifted back to the Duke of Whitmore.
A stranger, with a child who might not exist.
A life she had not chosen seemed to be waiting for her. A life that would still be here.
She let her head fall against the window frame and whispered, “Tell me I’m not making a mistake.”
Sir Whiskerton blinked once, then proceeded to lick his paw with a majestic flair.
“Well,” Aurelia said softly, “I suppose that settles it.”