Chapter 34
“This is … quite extraordinary,” Thomas spoke with his brow furrowed and his eyes wide. “I had no idea matters had reached such … extremity.”
Clara clutched Aurelia’s hand, pale and trembling. “But … there is still something we can do, isn’t there?” she asked.
Owen nodded. “I will go to Greenwich immediately. If I move quickly, I may intercept Carter as he leaves the cottage. Every moment counts. Meanwhile, Harrow, you must round up everyone we have spoken to, encourage them to provide a statement of their own. And Aurelia …” His gaze settled on her, fierce with concern, “you must keep your father’s notebook well hidden. ”
“I will,” she agreed, though her hands fidgeted slightly at the edge of the table.
He reached out, his hand brushing hers lightly. “Aurelia, you and Clara must remain here. It is far too dangerous for you to go out again.”
She shook her head. “No, Owen. Clara and I will visit Charlotte. We know the risks, but we will be perfectly safe.”
He startled, and there was disbelief clear in his expression. “You will visit her? Aurelia, you cannot be serious.”
“We must,” she told him. “I know how to speak to her, trust me.”
“It is not you I distrust,” he confessed. “What if her father is there?”
“He isn’t,” she reminded him. “He isn’t staying with her, claiming a need of privacy. That is what I overheard Lord Livingston say.”
“I still think it’s a dangerous idea,” he said sternly. “I can’t have you risking your safety.”
“I’ve been hiding my entire life,” she retorted. “Now, I can finally do something. Please, believe me when I say that we will be fine.”
Owen pressed his lips together, evidently torn between concern and the need to accept her decision. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod. “Very well, but be careful. If anything happens, you must retreat before Charlotte suspects anything.”
Clara leaned closer. “We can do this.”
Aurelia glanced at him, then touched his arm lightly. “We cannot hesitate. Charlotte knows where her father is, and if we provoke her, she might reveal his whereabouts to us.”
“Fine,” Owen sighed. “But … be—”
“I know,” she smiled again. “We’ll be very careful.”
As the group began to gather their things, Aurelia stopped him with a gentle tug at his sleeve. “Owen … a moment, please.”
He turned. “Of course.”
She waited for Clara and Thomas to move slightly away. And then, she spoke. “You remember what the physician said, you have to rest, not go out riding like a madman to catch another madman.”
Owen shook his head, lifting his gaze to hers, which was intense and unwavering. “I cannot rest. This is too important … and so are you.”
Her heart caught. A heat rose to her cheeks, rapid and insistent.
He thinks of me … he truly thinks of me, she realized, and a thrill shot through her chest. She could scarcely breathe, but her lips curved into a small, bright smile, letting the emotion remain unspoken.
He leaned closer, brushing a hand over hers, holding it gently.
She felt the pulse of his energy, the concern, the quiet intensity of his care.
Then, carefully, reverently, he lifted her hand and pressed a brief, tender kiss to its back.
A flutter ran through her fingers, up her arm, and straight to her heart.
Her pulse raced, and she had to swallow hard against a sudden, delicious tightness in her throat.
Owen straightened, giving her one last measured look, and then moved to the door. Aurelia remained kneeling for a heartbeat, watching him go. Her chest felt tight, her heart hammering in a way that made each breath seem both long and short.
The hall was silent except for the soft murmur of their preparations, but Aurelia’s thoughts spun faster than any sound could reach. She could not help but picture him in the streets outside, bruised and weary yet unbroken, moving with purpose.
He carries so much … and yet he still cares for me.
The realization made her chest swell. Her fingers lingered on the air where his hand had been.
She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining the brief pressure, the kiss to her hand, and a blush rose to her cheeks.
Her pulse thrummed with hope and longing, a hope that whispered insistently that, when this was all over, when their names were cleared, when justice had been done … there might be a future for them.
She did not speak it aloud. She simply straightened, drawing in a steadying breath, and allowed the faintest, gentle smile to grace her lips, which was a quiet, private promise to herself. Then, with a final glance toward the door through which he had departed, she turned to the others.
Even in his absence, Owen’s presence lingered, steady and warm, and Aurelia knew without doubt, that together, they would find a way forward.
***
The afternoon air was soft, scented faintly with lilacs from the neighboring gardens, as Aurelia and Clara approached Charlotte Langley’s town house.
Their expressions were sweet and deferential, the perfect mask of civility.
Aurelia could feel the tension coiling in her chest, each beat reminding her of how much depended on the words Charlotte might reveal, however unknowingly.
The butler ushered them into the drawing room upon their explanation that there was an urgent matter they needed to discuss with Miss Langley.
Then, he left them alone. Aurelia inhaled deeply, feeling slightly nervous.
She wondered if she would know what to say, now that she was finally here, finally so close to unearthing the truth that had been the cause of her family’s demise.
Charlotte opened the door to the drawing room with a sharp light in her eyes and a subtle curl to her lip. “Miss Finch, Miss Blackmore,” she greeted them in a tone that was clipped, yet not devoid of politeness. “To what do I owe the … unexpected pleasure?”
Aurelia inclined her head, forcing herself into serenity, though her pulse danced beneath her ribs. “We thought it proper to call, Miss Langley,” she said sweetly, “because we intend to leave London soon.”
“Oh?” Charlotte raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “What on earth for?”
Aurelia glanced at Clara, who was standing by her side, looking as determined as she was, although she didn’t speak yet.
“We know when we are not welcome,” Aurelia clarified courteously. “And we both understand. Still, with that said, we wished to offer our apologies, in person, before we depart.”
Charlotte’s lips tightened into a thin, incredulous line. “Apologies? My dear Miss Finch, how … charming. And what have you to apologize for, pray?”
Clara’s voice, calm and measured, answered with the utmost courtesy. “For any offense we may have caused, unintentionally or otherwise. It has never been our desire to trouble you or your family, or anyone else for that matter.”
Aurelia resisted the urge to smile. She wasn’t expecting Clara’s help, but it was more than welcome.
Charlotte, for her part, let her gaze linger on them, sharp and calculating, before letting a faint smirk curl her lips. “Trouble us? Why, we’ve only been trying to warn you.”
“Warn us?” Aurelia echoed.
“Of course,” Charlotte sighed as if she were quickly becoming exasperated with this conversation.
“It is about time you understood the truth. Lord Westbridge and Captain Harrow, your supposed allies, have been playing with you, have they not? Leading you along, and all the while laughing at your innocence. Do you see that now?”
Aurelia felt the prick of anger, yet her voice remained perfectly even. “Yes, we are aware of the truth now.”
Charlotte’s smirk widened into something more confident, almost self-satisfied. “Indeed. I suspected as much. You are not so easily deceived, after all. Finally, you see what has been going on. My father, myself … we have long endured the impertinence of the Finch family’s presumption.”
Aurelia leaned forward just slightly. “I also wish to apologize to the general, for all that my father has put him through. His accusations, no doubt, caused your father great distress.”
Charlotte’s eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction. “Ah, yes. That is correct. You cannot even imagine the trouble you have caused us. My father has suffered much on your account.”
“I know,” Aurelia nodded just once. “That is why I wished for a chance to make amends so we can finally lay the past to rest.”
“I’m afraid my father is not in London,” Charlotte revealed, although they already knew that his lodgings had to be out of town.
“Well, perhaps with our apology, he will wish to stay here in London instead,” Aurelia urged.
“My father has been quite content in his quiet lodgings at Blackheath,” she said with a faint, imperious smile, “but now, with everything settled to his satisfaction, he may finally return to London in full measure. Of course, he found those small apartments exceedingly comfortable while he waited.”
Aurelia’s pulse leapt at the careless slip of her tongue. She maintained her composure, smiling lightly.
“Well, in any case, I do hope you will bestow our sincerest apologies upon him,” Aurelia concluded, with the information she needed in her grasp. “We thank you for your time and your generosity. We shall not trouble you further, and you will see no more of us in London.”
Charlotte’s smug expression did not falter. “Very well. I should think that is for the best. It is about time this matter was concluded, I dare say. One can only wonder why it has taken so long for you to perceive it yourselves.”
Aurelia’s lips curved into a controlled, gracious smile. “Indeed. And we thank you for your frankness.”
Clara inclined her head. “It has been … enlightening.”
Charlotte’s smile faltered only briefly before returning in full force. “Yes, well. One must act in accordance with one’s station. My family has been patient, but I trust you will now see your place in the world, and that of your allies.”
Aurelia felt the thrill of victory rise quietly within her.
Without a single raised voice or impolite gesture, they had drawn from Charlotte exactly what they needed.
They had learned the general’s location.
The statement’s theft, the threats, the convolutions of the past weeks, all of it now had a path forward.
“Goodbye, Miss Langley,” Aurelia greeted her.
Charlotte inclined her head, still smug. “Goodbye, Miss Finch. I trust you have learned what is necessary. Better late than never, I suppose.”
“Indeed,” Aurelia agreed.
As the door closed behind them, Aurelia and Clara allowed themselves a small sigh of relief. Once around the corner, they could not contain their soft and breathless laughter, though still careful to avoid attracting attention.
“We’ve done it,” Aurelia whispered, while her eyes were shining with excitement. “Everything we need to help Owen is here now.”
Clara’s arm slipped through hers. “And Charlotte revealed it herself, without even knowing. I do believe she has done more than we could have hoped.”
Aurelia’s mind raced with possibilities, the thrill of knowing they had the lead propelling them forward. “If Owen acts quickly, and we are clever … then justice can finally be served. There may still be time to recover what is lost, and to see the truth restored.”
Their laughter spilled again as they hurried down the street. The afternoon sun warmed their faces, and Aurelia could feel a lightness in her chest she had not known in years.