Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

P hilip sat in his study staring sightlessly into the dimly lit fireplace. The flickering flames offered little warmth for the cold resolve building within him.

I did the right thing. I have finally put an end to it.

Whatever fleeting softness had crept into his interactions with Aurelia, whatever dangerous attraction he had begun to feel, it was now over.

He had caught himself before falling too far, before losing control. It was Oliver's pointed question, his careful observation that made Philip see how perilously close he had come to spiraling into a place of vulnerability.

. He could not afford that. His wife was a pawn, nothing more.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Enter," he called out.

Mr. Wimbledon stepped inside, carrying a small envelope. He bowed and handed it to Philip. "An invitation, Your Grace," he announced. "It arrived this morning."

Philip took the envelope, scanning it quickly before breaking the seal. Inside the envelope was an invitation to a ball scheduled for the following week. He briefly scanned its contents, his mind already wandering.

Perhaps I should tell Aurelia about this.

The thought briefly crossed his mind but he pushed it aside just as quickly. She hadn't fully healed yet.

Let her first rest and recover.

With a dismissive nod, Philip set the invitation aside and returned to his work.

Days passed, and Aurelia found herself standing on her balcony, gazing at the bright sky. The cool breeze ruffled her hair, a welcome relief from the stillness of her chambers. She had spent much of the day resting, though her mind was far from idle.

The encounter with Philip still lingered, his harsh words echoing throughout her mind.

She took a deep breath as her thoughts wandered, when she caught sight of a figure in the distance.

"Is that…?" She started to ask, but the words were cut off when he turned, his bare chest in full display.

Aurelia took a step back from the balcony, placing a hand on her chest as if to slow her fast-beating heart underneath it. She then blinked, looking around before she stepped forward again, watching him as he ran around with a dog that resembled a wild beast.

She had never seen his naked chest before, but she wasn't surprised to find he was well-muscled and toned. Aurelia sucked in a breath. She'd known he had strength in his hands, but she didn't think he also possessed such strong arms held by wide shoulders and a broad chest.

She chastised herself for staring and reminded herself to remain angry with him but she couldn't help herself. Aurelia pressed herself further against the balcony, and in a split moment, as if sensing her, Philip looked up.

Aurelia backed away from the balcony, shutting her eyes tight and biting her lips hard.

Philip had seen her and caught her staring at him.

"Perhaps I am imagining it," she said softly to herself and moved forward again, but Philip was no longer there. With a sigh, Aurelia waited in the belief that Philip would return.

A soft knock at her door broke her reverie.

"Come in," she called absently, expecting Eilidh.

To her surprise it was Philip who entered. He was now fully dressed, his tall frame filling the doorway. She turned toward him, startled by his unexpected presence.

"Your Grace," she greeted, her tone cautious. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked with an arched eyebrow, trying to mask her nervousness.

Am I in trouble for staring at him? Her mind emptied as she felt him approach her from behind. Without a word, he handed her a small card.

"What is this?" she asked, taking it from him. She opened the card and read the invitation. Her brow furrowed. "A ball?"

"We are expected to attend a ball," Philip said, his tone flat.

Aurelia raised an eyebrow. "We?"

"Yes," he confirmed, stepping closer. "As the Duke and Duchess of Oakdale, it is imperative that we keep up appearances. We must attend and show a united front. I would like for you to practice your etiquette to ensure you will act in a manner befitting a Duchess."

Aurelia's gaze flicked from the card to Philip, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You truly believe that I need to check myself?" Her voice was steady, though there was a sharp edge to her words.

Philip met her gaze without flinching. "Yes," he said simply.

The audacity of his reply stung her deeply.

Aurelia narrowed her eyes, her temper rising. "I see. Well, if you think so little of me, I shall save you the embarrassment. I am not attending."

She turned to leave, but before she could take more than a step, Philip's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. His grip was firm and unyielding.

"Do not make me repeat myself, Aurelia," he warned, his voice low and cold.

There was something in the way he said her name, like it was a curse. It was much different from how he'd said it the last time.

Aurelia yanked her hand back, attempting to free herself from his grip. "Let go of me," she hissed, her frustration mounting.

She pulled harder but his grip only tightened.

"I said …"

He released her, stepping back as though her proximity was a threat.

"You will accompany me to the ball," he said abruptly, his voice still cold. "We cannot afford a scandal."

Before she could respond Philip turned on his heels and strode from her room, leaving her standing alone on the balcony, her mind reeling.

She tentatively touched her wrist where his hand had gripped it. Her skin still tingled from the intensity of his hold, but her thoughts were no longer focused on the temporary ache.

She still needed to find the chink in his armor.

Eilidh was busy carefully adjusting Aurelia's hair for the ball, pinning back the last curl before stepping back to admire her handiwork.

"Are you all right, Your Grace?" Eilidh asked, her voice soft yet filled with concern. She had noticed her mistress wasn't as excited to dress up as she usually was.

Aurelia met her maid's gaze in the mirror and forced a smile. "I am perfectly fine, Eilidh. It is merely the excitement of the upcoming evening."

But the reflection staring back at her betrayed her unease. Dressed in a gown of pale gold silk, embroidered with the finest lace, Aurelia looked every inch the Duchess. Her hair had been swept into an elegant knot and was adorned with delicate pearls.

Everything was perfect on the outside, at least.

Aurelia rose from her chair and quickly walked out of her room. She had been keeping Philip waiting for quite some time, and it was by sheer luck and his need to appear as a united front that he had not left without her.

Deep down she wished he would, but there was another reason she had agreed to attend the ball. It was a chance, an opportunity for her to finally see her father for the first time since her wedding.

She smiled.

As she descended the grand staircase, Aurelia felt the weight of Philip's gaze upon her. He stood waiting at the bottom, impeccably dressed in a dark coat and crisp cravat, his back as stiff as ever. But his eyes betrayed his thoughts.

For just a moment his mask slipped and she saw something raw flit across his face. Was it desire or surprise? Either way, it was quickly suppressed as he squared his shoulders and offered her his arm.

"You look beautiful, Duchess," he murmured, his voice low and tightly controlled.

"Thank you, Your Grace," she replied coolly, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm as they made their way to the waiting carriage.

The journey to the ball passed in silence although Aurelia's mind raced. She would see her father, interact with other nobles and possibly, finally make some friends.

Perhaps this evening would bring a touch of normalcy to her otherwise strained existence. However, when they arrived at the grand estate and were greeted by their host, her hopes were immediately dashed.

"Greetings, Your Graces," the Marchioness of Thornton greeted, bowing politely to them. "Allow me to extend my heartfelt congratulations on your wedding," she said with a small smile that Aurelia returned. "I must say, I was a little surprised when I heard of the union. Such an unlikely pair, especially given what happened to…"

"Lady Thornton, you have broached an extremely bothersome topic that affects my wife greatly," Philip cut in immediately. "This is an exceptionally beautiful ball. I would rather we only speak of joyous things to match the mood," he said, pulling Aurelia to his side, holding her close as though he was a doting husband.

Instead of responding to him, Aurelia plastered a smile on her face, nodding at the older woman before she recalled what it was that she wanted to ask her.

"Lady Thornton, I would like to know if my father has yet arrived," she asked, as she felt Philip go rigid beside her.

"Your father, Your Grace?" the Marchioness asked, her eyes darting from the young Duchess to her husband. "I am afraid he has not, although he sent a note saying he was unduly delayed," she said, before bowing politely. "He was called to Wales for urgent business."

"Urgent business?" Aurelia couldn't help but ask.

Her heart sank and she glanced at Philip, her expression tight. Something about the Marchioness's explanation didn't sit well with her.

Delayed in Wales? It was too convenient. Too perfectly aligned with the warning Philip had given her about staying away from her father now that she was a Duchess.

Perhaps he thought that if the Ton saw her with her father there would be murmurs about what had happened with his brother.

Her suspicions grew as they made the rounds, exchanging pleasantries with the other guests. With each passing minute the doubt lingering in the back of her mind became more distressing.

When she finally found a moment alone with Philip at a small corner table, she could no longer contain herself.

"You did this, did you not?" Aurelia's voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of her accusation. She kept her expression neutral, though her eyes blazed with frustration.

Philip looked at her, his face impassive. "Did what, exactly?"

"My father…—his absence," she bit out, her voice rising slightly. "You had something to do with his absence. Do not think I am blind to your schemes."

Philip didn't deny it. He smirked and took a sip of his wine before answering. "I did what was necessary. You are the Duchess of Oakdale now, and your place is here by my side, not chasing after your criminal of a father."

Aurelia stared at him in disbelief. "How could you say that? He is my father!"

"And a murderer," Philip said coldly. "Do not forget that, Aurelia. Do not forget why you are here."

Her hands shook with anger and she fought to keep her voice steady. "I had begun to think…I had begun to believe there was more to you than this but I was wrong. How easily I allowed myself to forget the kind of man you are."

Philip raised an eyebrow, his tone mocking. "And what kind of man is that, my wife?"

"A cruel one," she hissed. "A man without honor. Without decency."

For a moment she saw something like hurt in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "I told you not to mistake me for an ally, Duchess. I am not a loving husband, despite what we have to make the Ton believe."

She recoiled as if he had slapped her, although she was more terrified of the reason behind her reaction.

Do I want him to be a loving husband?

"I have no desire to remain here," she said, her voice filled with hurt and anger. "But I suppose I must, for the sake of appearances."

Philip's expression hardened. "Yes, you will stay. This is our first public appearance as husband and wife. You have a duty to fulfill and I expect you to play your part."