Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

It was Monday morning, which meant Aurelia was scheduled to meet with Ryland and discuss Edmund's education, but she could not bring herself to knock on the study door. She stood in the corridor across from it, near the library entrance, and stared at the carvings of grapes and vines etched along the doorframe.

Andrew.

The plea lingered long after they had parted ways.

She wondered if he would notice if she didn't arrive for their meeting at all. But that wouldn't be right. Besides, she wanted to see him; she was only frightened of how it would make her feel. As Eliza's experience had demonstrated, Ryland was simply a good man. It wasn't wise to believe he meant anything more by his actions than a desire for friendship. Ryland was clearly lonely. That was abundantly clear. Aurelia was lonely, too. Two lonely people together did not immediately equal feelings.

She wished she had responded to his request to use his given name—even if only to reiterate how it wouldn't be appropriate—so this moment of discomfort would be in the past.

Aurelia drew in a deep, lung-filling breath and gripped the door handle. She turned it just as the door flew open, as if someone had yanked it from the inside. She pitched forward, losing her footing. The last things she saw were Ryland's surprised eyes before she smashed her head into the door and fell to the ground.

"Aurelia!" he said, dropping to her side and gripping her upper arm. "Are you hurt?"

She had hit her head on his solid wood door only moments ago. Yes, her head throbbed.

She took a moment to consider if there was any additional pain and tried to stand, ignoring the shivers that raced over her arms. He'd used her given name. "Just a little bump. I will be well."

Ryland gripped her elbow, supporting her. He smelled of cologne and leather. "I thought I heard you in the corridor, so I was coming to look." His cheeks bloomed pink, and he looked at the floor while he guided her to the chair across from his desk.

"Forgive my tardiness, my lord."

He turned and leaned against the edge of his desk, much closer than she liked. He crossed his arms over his chest and peered down at her with suspicion. "You are certain you aren't hurt? You hit your head, did you not?"

"When you told me you could walk from the broken carriage to the house, I did not argue with you."

He put up his hands in surrender. "Very well. That is true."

Ryland was now wearing the same things he generally wore—trousers, waistcoat, cravat, jacket—but something about the way the jacket tugged at his arms and the softness in his eyes as he looked down at her claimed all of her attention. He was the most handsome man she had ever met. When he looked at her with such caring, she could not help but feel the warmth spread through her chest, the throbbing of her pulse. He leaned so casually against the desk, but he stood close enough she caught a faint whiff of cologne when she inhaled. It was deep and rich and made her want to lean closer.

Aurelia blinked. What had come over her? She must have hit her head harder than she had thought.

"We are a clumsy pair," he finally said.

"Hmm. Is that the case? Or perhaps there is a common component to each of these accidents."

"Me." He laughed. "I suppose it is not clumsy to hold a doorknob and be thrown forward."

Aurelia tilted her head to the side in concession. "It is not. Would you like me to give you my intended outline for the next week, my lord?"

Ryland stood and walked around the desk, taking his seat. The barrier was a good reminder of the distance between their stations. Her focus ought to remain on that instead of the handsome earl who gave her too many feelings she should never have.

Aurelia was determined to be a proper governess—someone Ryland would wish to keep in his household, where she could build a life in Harewood with the other servants and some of her new friends. She had no one else. Her brother was in prison, her parents in Ireland, and the only friends she could claim were her neighbors in Berkeley Square or her old governess, both of whom lived too far now.

She had to be good enough for the earl to choose her.

Aurelia outlined her plans for the following week, carefully explaining each subject, how she intended to teach it, and what lessons Edmund would learn from the more obscure ideas—like continuing their light analysis and observing animals.

When she reached the end of her explanation, Ryland looked through the window with consideration, the muscle jumping in his jaw betraying his deep thought.

He met her gaze. "Do you have enough books? I recall your portmanteau being overburdened with the things."

"We have what we need for now. Edmund is enjoying the fairy tales—actually, do you happen to have a copy of Aesop's Fables ?"

"I do. It was a favorite of mine as a boy." He pushed back his chair. "Come with me. I can fetch it now." He started toward the door but turned for the far corner of the room, beside one of the large windows.

Aurelia moved slowly, feeling the throbbing in her head intensify as she stood. She waited a few seconds before following the earl. He paused at a bookshelf in the corner, the end of three shelves filled with account books and other leather-encased spines.

When he faced her again, there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "This is my favorite door in the house."

Had he hit his head as well? "This is a bookcase."

Ryland's grin widened. "Yes, but it serves dual functions." He reached beneath the shelf at waist level and pressed something. The door swung out a few inches, as though it was on a hinge and had been released from its catch. "It is also a door into the library."

He pushed it all the way open and held it for Aurelia to step through. She entered the library and tried to smother her gasp. The smell of leather and paper assaulted her. The wall was lined with two levels of bookshelves, punctuated by a walkway through the center. A spiral staircase leading up to the second level was situated in the corner where they had entered. Ryland closed the door, this side covered in paneling to match the rest of the wall behind the staircase.

Aurelia had known this room existed, but hadn't had cause to visit it before now, which felt like a pity. It was incredible.

Chairs and tables full of books dotted the center of the room. A gentleman's reading chair was set near the fire, the book stand holding a tome opened to somewhere in the middle.

It was not just a room full of books from floor to ceiling, with a walkway halfway up the shelves that made her believe she would enjoy strolling up there. It was very obviously a well-used room full of books. Aurelia noted the books held open with weights, the maps spread out, the worn leather on the chairs, and her esteem grew for Ryland at once.

"You like it," he said, startling her from her frank observations.

Aurelia stepped onto the Aubusson rug and turned in a slow circle, admiring the various colors and heights of the spines, the sophisticated molding on the ceiling that was painted gold, the— "Wait." She peered up at the ceiling, stepping to the side to see better. "Are those books?"

Ryland grinned. "Yes. When the house was built, my grandfather thought the library ought to be decorated with handsome leather spines, but my grandmother wanted the rest of the room to be lovely. She set about the other decor. You can see a great many books carved in the ceiling and shelves if you know where to look."

"I wish that was the case everywhere," she muttered lightly. Aurelia hadn't realized how expensive books were until she had lost her money and could no longer afford them. The books she'd kept when the creditors came to empty her house were her treasures.

Ryland returned to the spiral staircase. "The fables are on the second level."

Aurelia followed him, raising her skirt so as not to trip as she climbed the winding stairs. The carpet below stretched along the floor and made the room cozy.

"This was my favorite place to read as a boy," Ryland said, stopping at a window in the center where a small, narrow bench sat, adorned with pillows. "It isn't easy to see this place from the floor, so I could hide from my tutors here for hours."

"Tutors?"

"I started them very young. By the time I went to Eton, I was ahead of every boy my age. It never bothered me to finish my assignments early and wait, but a few of the boys took to teasing me, so it quickly became a burden that lasted the rest of my school career."

Aurelia's stomach dropped clear to the beautiful carpet below.

"There were a few in particular who tormented me, one of whom shares your surname. You might understand why it took me by surprise to learn it." His focus was on the bench seat now. "They pretended to be my friends, but only long enough to steal my notes and copy from my assignments." He shook his head, as if removing the memory. "Books were my saving grace. It is easier to forget how other people treat you or the trials you face when you can momentarily leave this world and slip into an imaginary one."

She looked at the window bench, light streaming through the glass and falling over the blue and green pillows. She could readily imagine a very young Ryland curled up on that cushion with his copy of Aesop's Fables , engrossed in the pages, his attention steady and sure, much as it was now on her.

Was he watching her so closely because he knew her relation to Nathaniel? Had he mentioned his school tormentors because he wanted to give her the opportunity to speak the truth?

She thought back to the ball where she'd first seen Lord Ryland, when she had spilled the ratafia on her gown and panicked—seventeen, her first London ball, her mother distracted by gossip. Aurelia had been mortified, afraid to show her mother the childish mess she'd made of her gown.

Ryland had seen the spill and her panic. He had stepped away without provocation, fetching a servant and a damp cloth so she might clean her gown. They had not been introduced that evening, but later, when she'd returned to her mother, she had heard of nothing but Lord Ryland among the matrons' conversations—his eligibility and wealth. She'd been startled to learn that this was the man Nathaniel had boasted about besting. He was nothing like the sniveling child she'd imagined. And he would never be interested in speaking to her if he knew who her brother was.

It was the beginning of a long Season of watching him from afar, falling in love with his kind eyes and ready smile.

Ryland's kindness had remained, even all these years and heartache later, as evidenced by the way he treated his servants and the friends he had kept.

But Smedley was coming for the hunting party, and if Aurelia did not explain now, Smedley undoubtedly would. Unless he was not her Mr. Smedley, but that was not a risk she was willing to take.

"My lord, I really must?—"

He had already turned away, crossing to the other side of the bench. He stopped and glanced back at her before perusing the titles. "Yes?" Turning, he pulled a thin book from the shelves and turned it over in his hands, handling it with affection and care. "Found it."

Aurelia's hands shook. "We need to speak. It is a matter of importance."

He closed the book and held it lightly in front of him.

The door opened downstairs and a woman entered the library, the tone of her soft, sweet humming giving her away immediately. Aurelia didn't know Julia very well, for she was very quiet and generally kept to herself, but she had stumbled upon the maid lighting the fire in the schoolroom one morning to the tune of "Greensleeves."

This song was different, but the tone sounded the same.

"Julia," Aurelia said quietly, peeking over the railing to confirm her suspicion. The maid had already begun pulling books from the shelf one at a time and dusting them before replacing them where she had found them. She'd started in the center of the room, indicating that this project was being carried on from where she'd last left off. If Julia spotted them alone like this, would she report her findings to Mrs. Pike? "Is there a way down without being seen?"

Ryland looked from the end of the walkway to the spiral stairs, then to Aurelia. "No," he whispered. "Did you think we would have more than one false door in here?"

Julia's humming grew louder.

"I hoped so."

"I hate to disappoint you."

"Then produce a door, my lord," Aurelia teased. She snapped her mouth closed. He looked at her with surprise, and a faint flicker of amusement. "Forgive me. I should not have?—"

Ryland took her gently by the hand, making her gasp quietly. "You have nothing to apologize for. I have occasionally thought about the woman I met at the inn, how different she was from our proper governess."

Aurelia hadn't worn gloves. She'd had no reason to. Now Ryland's skin against hers was warm and soft, his large fingers covering hers entirely. It stole her breath and her thoughts. What had she intended to say?

"Some things I can live without, like you brandishing a gun," he teased. "Other times, I wonder what you are truly thinking and wish you would speak your mind."

"It is not my place," she said, her voice airy, like the words themselves had no clear foundation, nothing to land upon.

"Our place in Society," he said slowly, considering. "It is such a fickle thing."

"Yet important to consider, all the same."

"Then I must apologize for yesterday. I took too many liberties in suggesting you use my Christian name. I cannot provide a reason, for rational thought has evaded me."

She had lost all ability to use speech, his words like something from a dream. He couldn't be in earnest. Aurelia swallowed against a dry throat and searched his dark brown eyes. "I do not understand where this is coming from."

Ryland cringed. He dropped her hand and she immediately felt the cool air rush in, reminding her where his warm skin had pressed to hers only moments ago.

It was that moment when Aurelia realized Julia's humming had ceased. She turned, looking over the railing, and found Julia's wide eyes watching them. At what point had they stopped whispering?

Ryland must have noticed Julia at the same time. He cursed quietly, then cleared his throat. "As I was saying, Miss Beswick, Edmund has yet to finish hearing all of Aesop's Fables , though I do believe I have shared at least half of them with him."

They had more than likely been overheard before this, and she felt ridiculous trying to pretend they had not been speaking about the private usage of Christian names—even if it had only been an explanation and not permission being granted. She didn't know Julia, but she knew no one well in this house. She had only just begun to create friendships with the other servants—this would do her no favors.

But the earl had set the path. This was his house and his servants, and she was one of them. She had no choice but to obey his prompting and go along with his farce.

She accepted the book and took a step back. "Thank you, my lord. I will report next Monday which of the stories we read this week." She turned away and went for the spiral staircase, her cheeks burning. When she reached the bottom step, her mind was made up: she needed to speak to Julia.

But after two steps toward the maid, the door swung open, a small six-year-old barreling into the room. "There you are! I looked everywhere , Miss Beswick."

Her neck heated, fully aware that this only made her look more guilty to Julia. "You were aware I had a meeting with your father. We came in here to find a book for your studies."

Edmund looked at it with anticipation, then back to her. "I've finished both my letters and my arithmetic. You told me you would return before I finished my letters."

"I didn't anticipate your father having the book I would like to use," she explained, aware Julia was very much paying attention to them while she continued to dust the books. "Or how long it would take to find it. I will check your work, then we can begin one of these stories."

The treat was too great to argue against, so Edmund agreed. He took her hand and let her lead him from the room.

"Edmund?" Ryland called, following them into the corridor.

The boy startled, turning back to see his father, and a grin spread over his face. Had he not noticed Ryland in the library? Perhaps the earl had been hidden by the staircase. "Papa!"

"You are listening very well to Miss Beswick. I am proud of your good behavior."

Edmund's chest puffed, preening from the praise.

Ryland drew an affectionate hand through Edmund's curls. "This book is important to me. Will you carefully carry it upstairs, Edmund? I need to ask Miss Beswick a question before she returns to the schoolroom."

"Yes, Papa." He took the book and hurried down the corridor, a little boy with a mission.

Once he was out of sight, Aurelia faced the earl, her posture stiff, her hands nervously clasped before her.

"The Ridleys have invited us to dine. Are you interested in accepting the invitation?"

She tried to cover her surprise. "I would like to, if it is agreeable to you. Will you attend?"

"Of course. They are my friends."

She nodded, but still could not make sense of the situation. An earl dining with a blacksmith? Would he lose his power among the other men in the House of Lords if this was revealed? Did he realize what a terrible effect it could have on his reputation?

Furthermore, did he care?

Aurelia chewed on her lip.

"What is it?" he asked. "Something is bothering you."

She looked back to the library door, where Julia was inside dusting, and lowered her voice. "Are you aware that a friendship with Mr. Ridley could jeopardize your social standing?"

He looked at her appraisingly. His jaw worked as if he was considering his answer. "I mentioned before the race that I wanted nothing to do with Society after Jane died. Now, I have changed my mind. But if I am going to re-enter the world of the living, I will do so on my terms, with people I like."

Aurelia had no response. She nodded, dipping in a curtsy, before turning away. She was eager to return to the schoolroom and the responsibilities that would push all thoughts of the earl from her mind.

But his answer remained fresh in her thoughts all through the day and long into the night.