Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

A urelia paced her room, this time not because of her husband but because of the situation that had brought them together.

The conversation with the Duchesses earlier played over and over in her mind. What had started as idle gossip had quickly shifted into dangerous territory: Gabriel's death.

"They say your father was behind it," Catherine had whispered, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"It was a dreadful thing," Beatrice had chimed in. "I heard it was to avoid paying back the money the Duke's brother owed him."

In that moment Aurelia had felt her heart stop in her chest. She had heard the accusation before from Philip, but hearing it from her new friends, so casually repeated, had left her disquieted.

Now, sitting on the edge of her bed, Aurelia tried to unravel the information she had received. "It does not make sense," she muttered aloud. "It simply cannot be true."

But doubt crept in. Philip believed it, and it now appeared that everyone else in his circle also did. Her father's debts had been real; that she could admit. But murder? No, her father couldn't have committed something so horrific.

Could he?

She wasn't sure anymore. After everything she had found out about her father, it was as though she had never known the man.

"I refuse to believe it," she whispered, clenching her hands in her lap. "There has to be some mistake."

Her mind wandered to Philip. Her feelings for him were growing despite everything that had happened between them. She didn't want to feel guilty for caring about him. She wanted to believe that she could find some way to reconcile the two men in her life.

There must be more to the story. I need to uncover the truth.

But how could she figure out the truth when her husband wouldn't tell her and wouldn't allow her to meet with her father?

Aurelia sighed.

There was only one person she could trust to give her answers and that was Oliver. He had always been honest with her, and if anyone knew what had truly happened it would be him.

By morning, she had resolved to visit the Viscount. She dressed quickly and quietly, unsure if Philip had returned during the night. It was better this way. She wasn't ready to face him, not yet.

As her carriage rolled down the narrow country road toward the Viscount's estate, she kept glancing out the window. A rider was trailing them, keeping a small distance.

Aurelia frowned, but she shook the thought away, focusing instead on the purpose of her visit. The Viscount would have the answers she was searching for.

When she arrived at his estate, he greeted her warmly but with a furrowed brow.

"Your Grace," he asked, leading her into the sitting room, "what brings you here so early?"

"First, you must forgive me for calling on you without prior notice, but I have come for answers I am certain only you can give me."

Oliver watched her with wide eyes.

"I have been hearing…things. About my father. About Gabriel's death."

Oliver's expression darkened. "I see."

"They're saying my father planned Gabriel's murder," Aurelia continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "But no one would tell me anything else."

Oliver sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. "Your Grace, it's not my place to say…"

"Please," she interrupted. "I need to know the truth. Is it true? Did my father…did he really commit such a crime? I would have asked him myself, but I am forbidden to see him."

Oliver ran a hand through his hair, looking pained. "I wish I could give you a simple answer, but I cannot. The situation is far more complicated than you realize."

"Then tell me," she pleaded. "I deserve to know."

He shook his head. "It is not my story to tell. You should hear it from Philip. He is the one who carries the weight of what happened."

Aurelia's shoulders slumped. "So, there is nothing you can tell me?"

"Only that you should be patient," Oliver said gently. "Philip…he is certainly not an easy man, but he is not without reason. Give him a chance to explain."

Aurelia rose to her feet, feeling defeated. "Very well. Thank you," she murmured. "I suppose I shall have to find answers another way."

The journey back was unsettling. The same rider followed her, never falling too far behind. Aurelia's heart began to race.

Who is he and why is he following me?

She tried to suppress her growing anxiety, but by the time she arrived back at Oakdale Manor her nerves were frayed. Without waiting she rushed inside, her cloak billowing behind her as she sought out Mr. Wimbledon.

"Where is His Grace?" she asked, breathless.

Mr. Wimbledon looked startled but composed himself quickly. "In his chambers, Your Grace."

Aurelia wasted no time marching toward Philip's bedchamber. She pushed the door open, her frustration spilling out before she even had a chance to compose herself.

"You need to help me," she demanded, her voice shaky with both fear and anger.

Philip turned slowly from his position by the window, raising an eyebrow in mild amusement. "With what, exactly?"

"A man was following me," Aurelia said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I noticed him on my way out and back."

Philip's expression didn't change. "Ah. That would be John."

Aurelia blinked, confusion and fury welling within her. "John?"

"Yes, John," Philip said calmly, turning back toward the window. "I had him follow you. I cannot have you gallivanting about without proper supervision."

Her jaw dropped. "Supervision? You had me followed?"

Philip turned to face her fully, his eyes darkening. "I needed to ensure you were not conspiring with your father."

Aurelia's eyes went wide. "You suspect that I am colluding with my father? That is absurd!"

"I cannot take any risks," he said coolly, stepping toward her. "You are the daughter of my enemy, Aurelia. I need to make sure you are not plotting behind my back."

"You treat me like a prisoner!" she shot back, her voice rising. "I have not spoken to my father since our wedding and you know it."

Philip's eyes narrowed. "I treat you how I see fit. You are my wife, and I will not allow you to embarrass me any further."

Her chest heaved with fury. "Embarrass you? How exactly have I embarrassed you?"

"You know perfectly well," Philip said, his voice low and venomous. "Your little…dance with Oliver the other night, for instance."

Aurelia froze, the accusation hitting her like a slap. "Is that what this is about?"

"Yes," Philip snapped, stepping closer to her. "He was too familiar with you, and I refuse to tolerate it."

Aurelia's anger flared. "The Viscount has shown me more kindness in one evening than you have since we were married!"

Philip's expression hardened. "Kindness? Is that what you think I have denied you? You've no idea what I have sacrificed."

"Sacrificed?" she scoffed. "You have made it perfectly clear that you care more about hating my father than anything else."

"I care about protecting what belongs to me," he growled, stepping even closer until they were nearly chest-to-chest.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them was thick, their breaths mingling in the charged silence. Aurelia's heart raced, her anger mixing with something she didn't want to name; something dangerous and foreboding.

"Philip…" she whispered, her voice wavering, but before she could finish, his lips crashed against hers.

The kiss was fierce, desperate, fueled by days of frustration and anger that had simmered between them. Aurelia gasped, her hands gripping the lapels of his coat as he pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together in unbridled longing.

They hastily stripped each other of their garments, their warm skin connecting as their breaths mingled and their lips sought the other out. Philip leaned over and captured her lithe body in his muscular arms and carried Aurelia to his bed.

"Dear Lord, you will be the death of me," Philip muttered under his breath as he moved away, taking the time to appreciate his wife's beauty.

Aurelia had never felt so exposed. Her heavy, luscious breasts boasted erect, pink nipples set upon creamy, dewy skin. Her golden hair cascaded across her breasts and her shoulders in enticing waves and her taut stomach begged Philip for his caresses. Philip's eyes roamed across every inch of her body with deep appreciation and need as his manhood stood at attention.

"So beautiful," he muttered, lifting his hands to cup her face as he pulled her in for another kiss.

"Oh, Philip," Aurelia moaned, as her full, red lips met his.

Slowly, he let his lips trail along her jaw and down to her neck, chest and heaving breasts, peppering her skin with small bites and kisses along the way.

How could anything feel this good?

"I wanted your first time to be gentle, but for the love of everything that is holy, I do not think I can wait any longer. I need to be inside you this instant," Philip groaned with urgency.

"Then do it, husband."

Aurelia had not considered the implication of her words, having said them merely because the heroine in her guide addressed her beloved in that way.

Philip grunted deeply as he lowered his hands and grabbed the base of his waiting shaft.

He slid a finger inside her, preparing her for his manhood. Aurelia marveled at his girth as it pulsed and throbbed in anticipation.

After stroking and circling his fingertips against her pearl until her wetness glistened on his fingers, he groaned and inserted himself inside of her. Pain lanced through Aurelia as Philip filled her void and pushed more deeply into her waiting cavern. She gasped in surprise and groaned with pleasure as he filled her with his heated member, her legs shaking with need, pain and desire..

"Breathe, darling," Philip pleaded, but there was no turning back now. "I promise to go gently," he assured her, easing in and out of her gingerly, thrusting more deeply until his rigid rod struck and breached her waiting maidenhood.

Their bodies intertwined, sweat glistening on their skin as their pace increased, Aurelia matching her rhythm with Philip's as they climbed a pinnacle of ecstasy.

Philip withdrew slightly, his face filled with genuine concern. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

She gasped and pulled him closer to her, grinding her hips to his, willing him not to stop.

Aurelia pressed her lips wetly upon his own, coursing her eager tongue within his mouth and tasting him as he tasted her. Philip pushed his engorged shaft more deeply inside her until he had no more left to offer. She cried out as she felt the waves of heat and the electricity of her nerves bringing her to a climax, the sensation surging through her body.

"My little lamb," Philip encouraged. "My good girl. Take all of me …"

Their lovemaking grew in its frenzy, bodies slicked together in sweat, their hair matted and their limbs entwined. Aurelia screamed his name as she reached the zenith of her rapture. He arched his back as his seed flowed into her, thrusting until he was utterly spent.

Panting heavily, Philip rolled over carefully as Aurelia slowly shifted herself from beneath his weight.

"If this is playing with fire, I want to light the next match," she breathed into Philip's ear as he smiled and nodded in agreement.