Chapter 5

Chapter Five

On a sunny autumn morning one year ago, Aurelia would have sat to breakfast with her father while her mother took a tray in bed. She would have leisured over the ham and eggs, safe and secure in the knowledge that her only trial was avoiding members of Society who would attempt to make her feel the weight of her unmarried state. Nathaniel had lived in a different part of town at the time, and they never did know when he would join them for infrequent meals or visits, but Aurelia was used to seeing her brother at least once per month. They had not been close, but he had stopped in on occasion.

He had, in a chance encounter at a friend's ball, introduced Aurelia to the last man she'd rejected a proposal from a few years ago—more than one proposal, though she opted not to fix her attention on that embarrassing interlude for long. Nathaniel and Aurelia had not seen eye to eye on most things, and suitors were among that list.

Now she glanced around the barren chamber that had been given to her and thought about Mr. Smedley and both of his proposals. If she had known the direction her life would take, would she have been so scrupulous while choosing a husband? She had turned down far too many proposals for lack of love, simply because she had been comfortable in her parents' wealth. She'd thought she had time and money on her side.

Foolish girl.

Aurelia crossed her small chamber in two generous steps and pressed her fingers to the cool glass in the meager window, soaking in the sun's rays. She didn't terribly mind the cramped space or the vastly diminished wardrobe in her new position. So long as she had sunlight, she could find happiness.

She wondered if Nathaniel had seen sunlight at all since he had been taken from his home and carted off to Newgate to await trial. Aurelia had tried to visit him, but she'd been refused entrance. She wasn't certain he was receiving her letters, either, as he had yet to write anything in response. The barrister she'd found to plead his case advised her to find an occupation and leave the city. Nathaniel could be waiting months—or years—for his trial, and she was no help without funds.

Aurelia rubbed her temples, pushing away thoughts of her brother. There was nothing she could do for Nathaniel now except earn the money to keep on his barrister. She rubbed a thumb over the dirty glass pane, but it didn't clear. The window needed a good scrubbing inside and out. Light was doing its best to pierce the filmy window, but years of grime and lichen impeded its efforts.

Aurelia intended to make the glass shine. If Lord Ryland allowed her to stay, that was.

"Who are you?"

Aurelia spun. Her hand slapped against the short bedpost and sent a stinging sensation across the back of her wrist. A young boy—the earl's son, undoubtedly—stood in the open doorway, a deep, shadowed furrow slashed across his brow. The riot of golden curls haloed his distrustful face and plump cheeks, and his eyes—a rich, deep blue—were trained on her with such uncertainty, it sent a pang straight through her heart.

She recalled that his name was Edmund, and on further observation, she felt the name suited his serious little countenance.

"My name is Aurelia," she said, giving him a kind smile.

"Oh-reela," he said, squishing his face into the picture of confusion. "It is a funny name."

"A difficult name to bend one's tongue around, is it not?" She wrinkled her nose. "I would have much preferred something beautiful like Sophia or Cecily, but my parents saddled me with a mouthful instead."

"Au-reela," he tried again. His little shoulder lifted in a shrug. "It is not so bad on the second try."

She stifled her amusement. There was nothing young boys disliked more than to not be taken seriously. This she knew from time spent with her neighbor's sons over the last decade, the oldest of which was nearly fourteen now. It was heavy to think that she and Georgiana had spent so many afternoons sharing tea over the years, yet now their lives were so distant in nature. This would be the first year they would not see one another at the Christmas party hosted by Georgiana's parents in Mayfair, but change was the nature of life.

She was glad for the afternoons she spent with Georgiana's sons and how they'd prepared her to speak to young boys. Aurelia did not come to Tilton Manor without some experience.

"I assume it will be even better on the third." She softened her voice as though imparting a secret. "Aurelia," she demonstrated again.

"Au-reelia," Edmund repeated. A grin broke out over his delightful little face. "It was better on the third."

She gave a crisp nod. "As I suspected. Though, you can call me Miss Beswick."

"I like that much better." He looked from her to the rest of the room. "Why are you in Nurse's old room?"

Aurelia searched the walls for a reasonable explanation that did not give her away entirely. If his father had not yet told him of the impending governess in his life, he ought not to hear it from her. She looked at the dirty window and formed an idea. "I came in search of light."

"Light?"

"Yes. It is a regular pastime of mine to find rooms with the most light. I'm happiest when surrounded by the sun."

His face wrinkled in confusion. "Should you not go outside then?"

Leave it to a child to expose the flaw in her excuse using common sense. "I could do that, but sometimes one cannot go outside. The wind or the rain or the insects make it better to find the best-lit room indoors."

Edmund seemed to look about the bedchamber again. "This room is too dark, I think."

She agreed. It was dimmer than she would like. "It would be much better with a clean window."

"Shall we clean it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and examining the window in question.

A little flurry went through her heart. "I think that would be the next step to help this particular room. But first, I must make a full study of the entire house." It was nearing the time she was supposed to meet with Lord Ryland. Would his wife be in the meeting? She ignored the impulse to check her hair. "I thought to begin in the study."

He frowned. "You might be disappointed. Papa does not like it when people come into his study."

"Hmm." She tapped her chin. "Shall I ask him? I cannot complete a full analysis without looking in every room."

The boy gave a little nod. "I will ask for you. Papa has difficulty saying no to me."

Aurelia coughed to cover her laugh. "Undoubtedly."

Edmund led her from the room and down the corridor toward the stairs. It was useful having a guide through the enormous house. Locating the study on her own might have taken longer than she had time for. He walked down the corridor from the front entryway, the door blending in with the wood paneling on either side of it. She glanced across the corridor to a similar door, cracked open to reveal the edge of a burgundy chair and walls of books. Her heart gave a little leap, but she tamped it down. Even if she stayed on as a governess, the family library would not be at her disposal.

She would be a servant, not a house guest. That would bear repeating to herself.

Edmund pushed the door open. "Papa?"

"Yes?" Lord Ryland asked. She felt his deep voice in her stomach. It was soft and kind, not a tone she'd heard from him yet. In that word alone, she could sense the care he had for his child.

"Can we come in? We need to mark your study's light."

"The light?" Lord Ryland repeated, suspiciously. "Who is we ?"

Edmund looked over his shoulder, catching Aurelia's eye. "Miss Beswick needs to know."

She stepped into the room, gathering his attention. He sat behind a heavy mahogany desk in his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, his coat slung over the back of his chair. His cravat was perfectly styled, his dark hair in place, but his eyes jumped between Aurelia and Edmund repeatedly before he stood, a hundred questions unspoken.

"Master Edmund found me admiring a window upstairs," she told Lord Ryland, hoping he would understand what she could not directly say. She advanced into the room, passing his desk to approach a wide window looking over the back garden. "I like this window. The light here is very fine."

There was a beat of silence before he spoke. "This room is best seen in the morning." He seemed to sense enough about her fictitious story to join her ruse. "You will find the library to be far more suitable in the afternoon."

She looked out over the manicured garden. It was beautiful and orderly, with bright flowers and lush green hedges cut to perfection. Gravel paths wound their way in a symmetrical pattern and led out the back to the wide expanse of lawn.

"Miss Beswick must see it for herself," Edmund told his father. "She cannot make her decision until she has seen every room."

Lord Ryland rocked back on his heels, appraising his son. "Is that so?"

Aurelia turned her back to the window, sending the earl a pleading expression.

He held it for a moment before turning his attention back to Edmund. "Will you find Mrs. Pike and request that tea be brought to the library, then? I would like to discuss this room with Miss Beswick before you continue your analysis."

"But you told her she ought to see the library in the afternoon."

"I did." He looked at Aurelia. Afternoon was still hours away.

"Light will change in the rooms with the position of the sun, Edmund," she explained. "Which I am certain you already know. That is why it is a good idea to take note of the lighting at different times of the day. It will help us to achieve a full analysis."

"The tea?" his father prompted.

"You told me I'm never to eat or drink in the library," Edmund said in challenge. "On account of the books."

"Right. I did say that."

"Shall we have tea outside?" Aurelia asked, hoping she was not crossing a line. "I've yet to have breakfast today, but I would love to share tea with you in the garden, if it is not too much trouble."

Edmund's face shifted to pleading.

"Very well," Lord Ryland said. "Go see to it that everything is prepared nicely for our guest, Edmund."

"Right away, Papa."

The patter of his little footsteps melted with the sound of Lord Ryland crossing the room, until the earl closed the door and silenced them completely. He faced her, remaining on the other side of the room. "You've met my son."

"He is a curious little boy."

"He inherited that from his mother." Lord Ryland gave her a pained smile before gesturing to the desk. "Will you be seated?"

Aurelia took the chair facing the desk, sitting straight and waiting for the earl to skirt the room and take his seat across from her. She pulled the letter from Mrs. Hoskins from her pocket and set it on the desk between them, the white rectangle holding her future on its well-creased paper. "I tried to devise a reason for my presence without lying or giving myself away."

"Masterfully done. It has been too long since I've brought anyone in to make a study of the degrees of light in my house."

"I shall have a report to you by the end of the week." She cleared her throat. "If I am to remain, that is."

He glanced at her, his eyes full of uncertainty, before dragging Mrs. Hoskins' letter closer to himself. He broke the seal and unfolded the note. Aurelia waited, watching his eyes flick and shift over each word written in the old governess's elegant hand. When he finished, he leaned back in his chair and looked at her. "You come highly recommended."

"She taught me everything she knows."

He nodded. "It says here you were her pupil. I wonder if that means she left your household to come to mine. She also taught my sister."

Aurelia had not known that. In truth, when she had debuted in Society and Mrs. Hoskins had left their home, they continued to exchange letters. But she had directed the letters to Willowbrook House, not Tilton Manor. How could Aurelia have made the connection that she was coming to Lord Ryland's home? She searched for the signs she should have noticed, but found none.

"I can trust your education, at least," he said. "My sister was given a very rounded one herself."

"Mrs. Hoskins did not believe any subject was unworthy for young ladies, my lord."

He gave her a brief smile. "Fortunately for us, that qualifies you to teach a six-year-old boy."

"Edmund is very sweet."

"He is also too candid." Lord Ryland grimaced. "A result of my parenting, undoubtedly. I hope his governess will be able to teach him decorum and proper etiquette."

She could not help but notice that he still spoke as though the governess position could be anyone's. Aurelia needed to make certain it was hers alone. "Does your wife have any particular expectations?"

Ryland went rigid. The clock ticked on the mantle a half-dozen times before he spoke again. "My wife died four years ago. Edmund does not remember her. Were she here, I believe her expectations would be that he is treated kindly, fairly, and given a proper education." He drew in a breath. "I am entirely on my own."

Aurelia wanted the chair to open and swallow her whole. Never once, when developing the false identity of a widow, did she consider she would be claiming a trial so intimately known to Lord Ryland. The audacity to allow the man to believe she had suffered a loss so great as he had burned in her cheeks—however short-lived her lie had been. She sucked in a breath. "Forgive me for taking such liberties at the inn. I would not have claimed a trial so close to your heart had I known what you've suffered. It was a fabrication developed out of fear for my safety."

"A lie, Miss Beswick. Might as well call it what it is." He gave a strained smile. "In any case, it is over now."

His words felt like a slap to her conscience. Honesty was clearly important to him, and she had brought up her mistakes while he was trying to decide whether he should allow her to stay or not. Aurelia leaned forward, holding his eyes. "I am an honest woman."

His infuriatingly perfect eyebrows shot up.

The need to defend her integrity bubbled to the surface. "In the hopes of protecting myself, I developed a false name, yes, but never have I done anything of the sort before. I was frightened, desperate, and alone in a strange inn with no money and no transportation. I hoped I could trust you and your stepfather, but I did not know for certain."

Besides, he had lied first when he called her his wife. Aurelia thought that was better left unsaid.

She could feel his anger slipping away, an ease of rigidity to the set of his broad shoulders.

Aurelia considered the things she believed he would value in a governess and made her case before he could send her away. "I am a good teacher with a wealth of knowledge. I have lived in Society my entire life, so I am equipped to instruct Edmund in proper decorum and teach history, science, language, and grammar—but also to appreciate art and the best way to address a lady. If you allow me to take this position, I will work hard and not ask for anything. I can make myself invisible in your household outside of when I work with Edmund." She swallowed. At present, she was not above begging. She forced herself to hold his gaze, despite the impulse to lower her eyes and close her mouth. "My parents have gone to Ireland, my lord, and I am entirely alone. Please allow me a chance to prove myself."

Lord Ryland blew out a tired breath and held her gaze. "Very well, Miss Beswick. We can begin with a trial period."

She blinked, uncertain what he meant by that.

"I have never employed anyone to help with Edmund's education, and this is just as new for me as it is for you. Two months from now, we will meet again to discuss permanent employment. If we decide it is not the best fit, I will assist you in finding a new position."

Relief flooded her. He was giving her a chance to prove herself. "That is fair, my lord. I thank you for the opportunity."

"It is important to me to find a good teacher. I refuse to send Edmund to school—my experience at Eton was not ideal—so he will need to receive a full education. Enough to prepare him for university."

The way the light hit his nose, she could see the slight bump where it had once been broken as a lad—courtesy of her brother. She clenched her teeth and nodded, aware of the reason he had disliked school. The truth of her relation to his Eton adversary battered against her skull, but she kept her lips pressed tightly together. She'd only just obtained a chance here. It wouldn't do for her to lose it now.

"I will speak to Edmund," Lord Ryland continued. "You may begin tomorrow, if you'd like to take the day to prepare the schoolroom to your satisfaction. I will send Tilly to assist you, and if you need anything further, you may inquire with Mrs. Pike." He cleared his throat. "Unless you would like to have tea with him outside now."

She stood, sensing the dismissal in his words. Lord Ryland needed this time to prepare his son. She could eat later. "Will you tell Edmund we will continue our analysis of light tomorrow?"

He gave a fleeting smile. "I will do so."

She held onto a healthy dose of reservation, for the position was not hers entirely. But now, with this plan in place, she had hope.