Page 39 of The Duke and His Jilted Bride

“Go now,” Aurelia said, waving them off. “All of you. The earlier you set off the better. I will be perfectly fine. Mrs. Foulger will look after me if I need anyone.”

Lydia looked uncertain. At that moment, Evander entered from the direction of his study. He paused and greeted them with a nod. Aurelia looked at the group and then at him, trying to conceal her fragile state from him.

“You'll be here with her, Your Grace, won’t you?” Aunt Violet said. “To take care of her if the megrim worsens? Cold compresses and drawn curtains.”

“Compresses?” His gaze fell to the ground. He was more formally dressed than usual, which she thought was odd and unnecessary. This was his home, even if all her favourite people were in it. “Actually I was going to walk the grounds.”

Lydia tutted. “You should watch out. Your wife senses oncoming rain. I would hate for a bough to knock you in the head.”

“What a vivid picture you have painted.” Evander scowled. “I’ll take my chances, Miss Penrose. I enjoy walks in the rain.”

“Of course, you do,” Rosdale teased, laughing. “He’s for ever been a maudlin and dramatic creature, though he does his best to hide it.”

Lydia looked at him. Then she looked at Aurelia. Then she picked up her coat from where she had left it on the bannister. “Right,” she called.“We're off, then. Before it rains, and before the Earl of Rosdale can put his foot in his mouth.”

Violet made a happy sound as she moved over to kiss Aurelia goodbye. She stroked Evander’s arm and whispered something to him. Rosdale inclined his head at them both before being half-led and half-dragged out of the house by Lydia. And then they were gone.

“You should go and lie down,” Evander said after a moment.

“I will… I just needed a moment to gather the courage to walk upstairs.” She looked up, stretching her arms to hide her discomfort. “Go for your walk. I don't need looking after. I’ll be alright on my own.”

“I know you don't need me... You’ve made that more-than obvious in our short acquaintance.”

He got his coat and left before she could ask him what he meant. But she wanted to know desperately, the megrim be damned.

The woods at the back of the estate were thick and wild. The trees were old enough that the canopy closed overhead and muffled incoming sounds. It was quiet and damp, the wind muffled by the interwebbing branches. The earth was soft from the last rain, and his boots sunk into the mossy ground. He knew the paths without thinking about them, moving automatically between the brush.

He was perhaps half an hour into the woods, on the path that curved north toward the mill stream, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, his coat hanging over his arm, expecting the groundskeeper to appear.

Aurelia was fifteen feet back on the forest path. She was wearing her coat, her walking boots and the same bonnet from that morning. He could barely read her expression from the distance between them, but her appearance left him dumbstruck.

“Your megrim,” he said, foolishly.

“It is manageable for now.” She caught him slightly out of breath, keeping her head low as she navigated the uneven forest floor. The woods made the moment feel more intimate than it was. She looked smaller here, and he reached out to help her over the roots between them.

He blinked as she said, “I thought we should talk now that we’re alone. I wanted to talk to you before, but there was so much happening.”

Nodding, he invited her to follow him. They went a short way in silence, the stream audible somewhere to the left. A wood pigeon cooed somewhere above. If Aurelia wanted to talk to him, she could, especially given the earlier warnings from her Aunt Violet about her nature.

“I'm sorry for last night,” she began, “for saying what little I did, and for being cold with you. Especially after everything, it was undeserved. I felt rotten when I got into bed last night, and quite like a child for the way I acted.”

“Is that really something worth apologising for?” he asked. “You don't have to apologise for choosing to sleep in your rooms, Aurelia.”

“I know I don't have to.” She looked at the path and made them stop. “It occurred to me after last night that I have been managing this marriage by keeping you at a distance. And I don’t think it’s working. We’re too old to be so unsure of ourselves, I think.”

He looked at her sideways. “Unsure of what?”

She opened her mouth. And then she closed it and looked at the trees above. A bough moved overhead in a gust of wind. The pigeon must have relocated, because he couldn’t hear it anymore. Just her, breathing.

“I'm still working out how to say it,” she said. “You are very annoying to apologise to, do you know that? You are too understanding about everything. It’s been this way ever since the wedding.”

“The first or the second?”

“The second.”

“I can be less understanding if that would help.”

“Possibly.” She almost smiled. “Just… give me a moment to phrase this in the least awkward way possible, will you?”