Chapter 19
Nineteen
“Ineed you to be honest with me,” Violet said, not looking up from the gown she was folding. “And I need you to know that whatever you say, I am not going to make a fuss about it.”
Aurelia was sitting on the end of the bed with a stack of her aunt's chemises, which she was supposed to be folding and had not yet started. Her aunt never trusted maids with her things – sticky fingers, she said.
“That is never a reassuring opening,” Aurelia replied.
“Nevertheless.” Violet placed the gown in the trunk with a soft thud. “Have you and His Grace the Duke consummated this marriage?”
Aurelia snapped her head up, horrified. “Aunt Violet!”
“I warned you I wasn't going to make a fuss.”
“You and I have very different perceptions of the word.”
“Consommate or–”
“Fuss,” Aurelia cried, hiding her face with her hands.
“I am simply asking a question.” Violet picked up another gown. “You have been here a month. You are newlyweds. You have separate rooms… which I understand is the done thing, though we never bothered, but still. I would like to know whether we will be welcoming any small Sandacres, that’s all.”
“Do aunts usually ask this sort of thing from their nieces?”
“Usually it’s the mothers. Needs must.”
Again Aurelia’s mouth fell open in shock. Her aunt was becoming increasingly bold with age. She wasn’t even sure what consummated meant in all its details. Only that it involved being alone with one’s husband for a long time at night, alone and…
She was blushing again and returned to folding chemises. Violet sighed loudly and said nothing for a moment.
“If we hadn’t, are you going to tell me that's a problem?” Aurelia asked.
“If that was the case… Then no, but I was going to tell you that it is relevant.” Violet set down the gown and looked at her niece directly.
“Not because of propriety… I am long past worrying about your propriety. But because of children, partly, and because the longer two people share a house and separate rooms, the more entrenched that separation becomes. And I would not like to see you end up in a marriage that is fruitless and lonely.”
“That is a very blunt way of putting it.”
“Why mince words at a time like this? I’m leaving soon.” She returned to her packing. “He is not indifferent to you. I have eyes, and they still work despite my age. At least I know he has not forced himself on you.”
“He wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You’re willing then to have his children. So what then is the impediment?”
Aurelia held a breath and glanced at her reflection in the nearby looking glass. Somewhere far away she could hear the carriage being brought around and people talking.
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“With the consommation?”
“No, with the conversation. And it’s not… Things are not quite so simple as that. Our marriage is far from conventional.”
“They never are. We just pretend they are so our children continue our lines. They come in all shapes and sizes – the marriages.” Violet cleared her throat and reached out to take the chemise from Aurelia.
“Is there anything in particular that makes your marriage in particular feel decidedly unconventional?”
Aurelia rolled her eyes. “You’ve been here the last four days, haven’t you? What do you think?” She folded her hands in her lap. “Seraphina said something.”
“She is always talking. What was different about this time?”
“It was about Evander… About him being the sort of man who gives every woman the same consideration, one who never be loyal to anyone over himself, Carrstone.” Aurelia turned another chemise in her hands. “She implied that I might be mistaking his intentions.”
“He married you, not her. Why would you believe a word she has to say?”
“I don't know what I believe. That's the problem. What does she stand to gain from saying something like that if not just to protect me from further harm? They both seem genuinely remorseful for the elopement.”
Violet shook her head. “Seraphina is a clever woman who made choices she cannot entirely justify to herself.
And she has likely found that your husband looks at you in a way he never looked at her.
Not every woman could accept that, not even if she married his brother.
“She folded a petticoat with more force than necessary.
“I would not take advice about your marriage from a woman in that position, would you?”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“Partly. But I also believe what I’m telling you.” Eventually, Violet closed the lid of the trunk and sat beside her niece on the end of the bed. She placed a soft hand on hers and squeezed it.
“If I leave you with anything let it be this. Watch the jealousy of brothers,” Violet said. “Not Lord Canterbury. That man only follows his heart and it’s been established that you’re not in it. I mean the other one.”
Aurelia looked at her aunt. “What does he have to be jealous about?”
“That much, I don’t know yet. Which is why you will write to me often with updates so I can continue providing you with my sage advice.” She stood, stroked Aurelia’s hair and held her close, then whispered, “Now help me with my books before the maids have to help us and have the chance to rob me.”
The carriage pulled away at eleven. Evander stood with Frederick on the front steps and watched it go down the avenue, the beeches making a corridor for it, the wheels throwing up dust from the dry gravel.
Seraphina had come out to wave and had gone back inside when the carriage turned the corner.
Frederick had his hands in his pockets and was squinting into the morning light.
Aurelia had not come out at all. She had said her goodbyes upstairs. He had heard Miss Penrose’s voice from the landing, laughing and crying. He understood that some goodbyes were better dealt with in private. Especially since he had not spoken to her properly since the garden.
He had thought about it in the last two days, and each time it had stalled at the same point – he would have to explain what he had felt and now suspected when he saw Frederick's hands around hers.
“Good people,” Frederick said, watching the empty avenue.
“Who?” Evander blinked.
“The ones who just left.” Frederick pointed down the drive.
“Miss Penrose is… she's something, isn't she?
She told me at breakfast yesterday that my cravat was tied incorrectly and then fixed it before I could respond.
I wasn't sure whether to be offended or charmed. Seraphina gave me a mouthful for that.” Frederick looked sideways at him. “Your wife did not come downstairs.”
“I suspect it was too much for her.”
“I don’t know. She has a stronger constitution than you give her credit for.”
Perhaps too much, Evander thought privately.
“She was upset, in the garden. Aurelia,” Frederick said. “When I took her hand, I half expected her to punch me with it instead.”
He absolutely did not want to talk about that moment in the garden.
He was well aware of Frederick’s feelings for Aurelia.
They could not have been considerable or he would not have run away with Seraphina.
But Aurelia was another matter entirely.
And there was still that same feeling of misappropriation.
Something he couldn’t shake – though he wished he could.
Suddenly, a phaeton came around the side of the house. On it was a man Evander didn't recognise with a bag beside him.
“Your Grace?” It was Howes, behind the cart, looking apologetic in the way he looked when something had happened with the animals. “Mr. Briggs is here. The farrier from the village. He knows a thing or two about dogs too. I sent for him about Nike, as you asked.”
Evander had asked him to do this three days ago and had completely forgotten about it. “Put him in the stable yard,” he said.
The doors opened again. Aurelia came out still in her morning dress, her hair not quite finished. She had clearly come down quickly. “I heard about the farrier,” she said, slightly out of breath. “I want to come too, if it concerns Nike.”
He looked at her, defeated. “Come on then,” he said.
To his jealous disappointment, Frederick trailed after them and quickly began updating Aurelia about the situation.
The stable yard was warm and smelled of hay. Nike was in a small pen by the south wall looking, Evander thought, deeply unconcerned about the proceedings. Titan sat outside the pen watching with the seriousness of a senior official, finally looking like the guard dog he had been bred to be.
Mr. Briggs examined Nike for several minutes, while the three of them stood in a row along the fence. Evander leaned on the fence while Aurelia and Frederick spoke, trying his best not to listen and pretending he was anywhere else.
“Well,” Briggs said as he returned. “She's expecting, right enough.”
“Good God, Violet was right. How many, do you think?” Evander asked, turning.
“Hard to say at this stage. Six or eight, perhaps. She's in good health. No cause for concern.”
Nike came out of the stables behind him, tongue lolling. She looked at Evander as if to confirm this and then looked away to find Titan.
“The question,” Evander said carefully, “is how.”
Briggs looked at him. “In the usual way, Your Grace, covered by a stray likely, if it wasn’t your other boarhound.”
“Titan was cut three years ago.”
“Then it wasn't Titan.” Briggs picked up his bag. “Something else got to her, covered by a stray, aye. A few weeks back, by my reckoning... You'd want to think about what dogs have been on the property.”
Evander looked at Howes. “The groundskeeper's dog has been about,” he said slowly. “A lurcher. Big grey one. The dog’s been coming up from the village with him most mornings, but I could have sworn she was a bitch.”
“You never confirmed this with him?” Evander said.
“I didn’t want to look, Your Grace.”
“He must be a very large dog,” Aurelia said, obviously trying hard not to laugh.
“And apparently enterprising,” Evander added.
“Nike has always had good taste,” Aurelia said, and Frederick, who had been quiet throughout all of this, made a sound against the back of his hand.
Briggs left with the information that Nike should be kept comfortable and watched from about six weeks hence. Howes went to have a conversation with the groundskeeper about the lurcher. Frederick excused himself for lunch, which left Evander and Aurelia alone in the stable yard.
She was still looking at Nike. “Lurcher puppies,” she said. “They will be enormous. Mrs. Foulger is going to have a view about this.”
“Well, Mrs. Foulger has a view about everything,” Evander said.
Aurelia smiled at that, and they stood quietly for a moment, just the yard and the warm morning and Nike attempting to sit on Titan in the distance.
Then Titan apparently decided he had been sat on long enough. He stood abruptly and walked with great purpose directly into the back of Aurelia's legs.
She pitched forward with a gasp. Evander caught her by the arms and she ended up against his chest, which was not what either of them had planned.
But it wasn’t unwelcome either.
She looked up at him, blinking, still half upright and clutching onto the lapels of his jacket. Titan sat down behind her and examined the horizon with complete serenity, while Aurela let out a startled laugh.
“There are other ways to get my attention than getting Titan to do your bidding,” Evander joked, sounding less confident than he intended.
“How did you know?” she joked in return. “We rehearsed this all of yesterday.” She steadied herself and he released her. His pulse was racing from the moment, and he cursed himself, hoping she couldn’t tell.
Then, before he could really think about what he was saying, he announced, “If you want to walk this afternoon, it should be with me.”
She held his gaze for a moment, her expression unreadable “Because you would like to walk with me, or because you don’t want me walking with anyone else?” she asked.
“If you walk with me, perhaps I’ll tell you.”
Titan returned and whined, ready for his lunch too, his work obviously done.