Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Aurelia waited outside for the carriage to pull in front of the house. Edmund bounced on his toes beside her, anxious for the evening ahead with his friend, Peter. But he stood so close to her side that he had almost come down on her skirt more than once. It had only been a day since Edmund had panicked about losing her and he had refused to leave her side since.

She had not seen Ryland since last night, yet her feelings for him were growing. She knew it wasn't the proper thing, and she was inordinately in her head about the entire ordeal.

Dinner with the Ridley family tonight would be a blessed distraction.

The lacquered red carriage pulled to a stop in front of them. Edmund started to move before the wheels had fully stopped, so she pressed lightly on his shoulder to give him a reminder to wait.

He shot her an apologetic smile. "I am very excited to see Peter."

"As you should be," she said, her tone level. "But recall your manners and safe behavior all the same."

"Yes, Miss Beswick."

The wheels stopped, and Paul came around the side to open the door and let down the step. "Thank you," she said, taking his hand and climbing into the closed carriage. She glanced at the house again in time to see the door open and Ryland hurry down the steps, his long stride eating up the distance between them swiftly. Aurelia found her heart beating faster the closer he grew.

"Paul," Ryland said with a dip of his head as he passed the groom and climbed into the carriage. He pulled the door closed and smiled at Edmund. "You look very handsome, young man."

Edmund straightened on the seat. "Miss Beswick fixed my hair."

"Did she?" The earl's gaze slid to Aurelia, the dark brown depths locking her in place. She could not have moved from that place had she tried. "It looks very nice."

"Thank you," Aurelia mouthed, her voice so dry the words would not form.

The carriage moved, pulling them along. Aurelia dropped her gaze, tugging at her bonnet ribbon until it loosened and she needed to tie it again. She was glad for the distraction and refused to think about the day at Dunder Hill and the way Ryland's knuckles had grazed her jaw as he'd tied her bonnet again. She fixed her gaze on the small window and didn't allow her mind to wander to the moments in the library or near the ruins or in his study or the long gallery. She could not think of those things now—and yet she couldn't help but think of those moments, the strong connection she had felt. Until she told him the truth about her brother, she wouldn't feel settled here.

They needed to be alone for that conversation.

"Miss Beswick?" Ryland murmured, making her attention snap to him. He was watching her closely, his dark eyes black in the shadows of the carriage. "Are you well?"

"Perfectly." She offered a strained smile before putting her attention again on the window and what lay beyond it. This was bound to be an excruciatingly slow evening.

Ryland always enjoyed his conversations with Jacob Ridley, but right now all he wanted was to be alone with Aurelia. He'd eaten his venison and enjoyed his soup. The wine was delicious, Edmund was playing up in the loft with Peter, and they had all gathered around the warmth of the fireplace, the women tucked together on a small sofa and the men on sturdy blue chairs.

"You've done a good deal to this house, I believe," Ryland said, looking from the painted walls and portraits hanging on the walls to the rug lining the wood-planked floor.

Eliza nodded, sipping at her hot tea. "Jacob built on the kitchen and the extra room over the summer. We intend to add more next year as well."

Ridley looked at his wife with affection. "He doesn't mean the size of the house, love."

Ryland laughed. "You can sense when a woman has made improvements. I recall Jane doing over many of our rooms and how much more comfortable they became once she was through with them."

"She had excellent taste," Eliza said.

Ryland nodded, his chest growing tight. He reached for the pocket watch in his waistcoat and rubbed his thumb along the smooth back of it. "She did." When he looked up, he found Aurelia's gaze settled on his watch.

"As do you," Ridley said to his wife.

"Anne helped a good deal," Eliza said. She looked at Aurelia and explained. "My maid, Anne. She came with us when I married Jacob. She's been an immense help the last few weeks." Eliza's hand came to rest on her stomach, making it clear that she was expecting a child, but Aurelia didn't look surprised in the least. They must have grown close already if Eliza was sharing confidences with her.

The house grew silent, and Eliza looked up.

"We are having a baby," Ridley explained, the smile on his face growing wider, like he couldn't restrain it.

It was contagious. "That is very happy news," Ryland said. "How does Peter feel?"

Eliza chuckled. "He is thrilled to have a baby in the house now, but we shall see if that changes once the crying begins."

Ridley glanced up to the loft, where the boys were playing with Peter's wooden soldiers. "Things will change, but Peter still has his place in our home. He is more than my apprentice. He has become like a son to both of us."

That was obvious from the way they interacted, that Eliza had joined Ridley and Peter and become the paste that brought them together as one family. Their marriage had not come without social and family difficulties—Ryland had heard bits and pieces from Ruth, enough to know they'd struggled to find their place—but they had love. Their home was warm and comfortable, not just from the fire, but also because of the environment they had created.

Ryland was envious of it.

"What a blessing that you were able to bring your maid with you," Aurelia said softly.

"I was willing to sacrifice so I could have Jacob in my life, but I was grateful not to have to sacrifice Anne. Or a cook," she added, cringing. "We'd all have starved without Cook."

Aurelia laughed softly, the sound sweet and angelic. "I miss my cook as well. My maid was brilliant with my hair, and sometimes I wish she was still there to tie it in rags." She patted the bottom of her neat knot. "Though now I have no use for curls, so I suppose it hardly matters."

"Where is she now?" Eliza asked.

Aurelia glanced across the room, as if just recalling that the men were still present. She gave a tight smile. "She found a position outside of London with a good family I know. I think she'll like it there. Does your family visit you here?"

"We attend Rose Manor for dinner every few weeks, but no, they do not come here." Eliza looked at the ceiling where the boys were, then back at Aurelia. "Things will never be the same with them again, but I have accepted that. They love me, and we are part of their lives in a small way."

"All the same, that cannot be easy."

"No, it is not," Eliza agreed. "But I made this choice. Whose life is without struggle or heartache? I am glad I chose the path that gave me Jacob. I'd much rather have a partner than the solitude that would have been my companion had I remained with my parents. At least, with Jacob, I am content among my trials. I have someone beside me when I struggle."

"You have friends who support you as well," Ryland said quietly. Ruth was Eliza's dearest friend, and she was only one of the people who appreciated and supported the Ridley family in Harewood.

"Indeed," Eliza said, rallying. "And a reclusive earl dining in my home. How fortunate am I?"

Ridley chuckled, but Ryland shot him a wry smile. "I am doing my best not to be reclusive anymore. Did you receive the note about the hunting party? We will have official invitations out shortly."

"I did, but I'm afraid I cannot attend." Ridley seemed to hesitate before continuing. "You might be able to pretend I am not a blacksmith, but your friends will not be as understanding."

Eliza glanced at her husband with compassion, making frustration ball in Ryland's stomach. He knew there was truth in those words, but he wished it wasn't the case.

"Besides," Ridley continued. "I have far too much to do. You would like your curricle returned to working order soon, I imagine?"

Ryland smiled, shaking his head. This was a matter best left alone. "Whenever you have time. It is not pressing." He looked from his friends to Aurelia, then back to Ridley. "You are incorrect on one count, though. I have never pretended you are not a blacksmith. I am grateful you are, in fact, able to fix my broken things. It merely has never mattered to me in regard to our friendship."

Silence sat thick in the room, heavy. "I suppose I see why Ruth has no notion for your place in Society, my lord," Eliza said, pushing to her feet. The others stood, as well. "She is only following your example."

Ryland laughed. "You have the right of it. She cannot be bothered with stuffy things like titles anyway, can she?"

Eliza gave a long-suffering sigh. "I believe that is one of her more recent rules."

"Not to marry a title?" he asked. That was the first he'd heard of that one.

"Indeed."

Ryland shook his head. "Someday Ruth will fall in love, and I very much hope it is with a man who breaks all of her rules."

Eliza gave him an appraising look. "I suppose we shall wait and see."

They gathered Edmund and said their farewells before loading into Ryland's carriage and closing the door. It was too dark to see easily without the help of torches. Ryland could faintly make out the outline of Edmund slumped against Aurelia, the rocking motion of the carriage and the dark soothing him. He watched her hand, pale against the dark blue of her gown, move over Edmund's head, drawing her fingers through his hair.

The ease with which Edmund had curled into her side and fallen asleep, despite the shortness of the drive, was a testament to how much Aurelia had come to mean to him. Ryland watched her hand stroke Edmund's head, transfixed by the gentle sweetness, the way it appeared to be natural for them.

It struck him as something a mother would do, something a son would expect. Their relationship was not unlike Eliza and Peter's. Though Peter's family lived within the county, he would always remain at the Ridleys' smithy as an apprentice, learning the blacksmith trade. Eliza had taken on the mantle of a somewhat adoptive mother to the boy. Peter was not suffering in the Ridley house. He was loved, and he appeared happy.

Ryland couldn't help but watch Aurelia's movements. Regardless of her intentions, it felt as if Aurelia was now stepping into that role for Edmund, filling the empty crevices in his heart and needs. Ryland expected to revolt against the thought, to buck and fight the very idea that anyone could come into Edmund's life and heal the emptiness left by Jane's death. But he found the opposite to be true—relief coursed through him, warm and gentle.

Whether Aurelia intended for that to be the case, or if she even realized it, she was becoming an important part of Edmund's life—and Ryland's in turn.

So much so that Edmund was beginning to worry he would be left again. The sight of Edmund's distress had plagued Ryland yesterday long after leaving the schoolroom. It could not be a coincidence that he'd had nightmares of his mother leaving him after her death, and now, as another woman had come into his life, his nightmares had returned.

It was clear Edmund loved her if he could feel such a deep anxiety about the possibility of her leaving him, too. It broke Ryland's heart nearly as much as it filled it.

"Has he told you the nature of his nightmares?" Ryland asked.

Aurelia looked up. "No. He does not wish to speak of it, so I have not pressed him."

That was the same experience Ryland had had at breakfast when he'd asked weeks ago. He relaxed into the seat and watched Aurelia's hand stroke Edmund's head.

He found his heart bursting, his chest pounding with an erratic heartbeat. She raised her face to him, the moonlight glowing just enough to light the confused lines between her brows, but Ryland said nothing. He watched this woman love his son and wondered silently if his feelings toward her, this affection and burst of fondness, were for her or merely because he loved the way she loved his son.

If they were for her, did she feel the same about him? Did she feel the same pull he did, the way the rope seemed tethered to each of them, growing taut and loose in turns?

"Are you well?" she asked quietly.

"I am," he said, unable to tear his gaze from her. It was the truth, and it had been far too long since such truth had resonated in his soul. I am well.