Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

" T he table is set for dinner, Your Grace," Mrs. Jarrow announced, standing in the doorway of Aurelia's chamber.

Aurelia, seated on a small couch near the window, glanced up in mild surprise. The guide she had been leafing through lay face down and forgotten on the round table in front of her. At the housekeeper's words she sprang to her feet, a small smile gracing her lips.

She looked forward to seeing her husband and the time they'd spend together while eating.

She had fully expected that after the night they had shared, Philip would revert to his cold, distant ways, avoiding her as he had done after the ball.

But to her astonishment he had been different. His was more open, more attentive. He had not shut her out.

The memory of waking up in the morning to an empty bed flashed through her mind. The space where Philip had lain was cold, his absence a quiet reminder that he was an early riser.

But there, on the pillow, she had found a note. Not much, just two words scribbled in his familiar hand:

Good morning .

Aurelia could not help but smile at the thought. It wasn't the note itself, but the fact that he had left it there. He had thought of her, even if only for a moment. She could picture him hesitating about what to write, his quill suspended above the paper. Such small gestures mattered more to her than she cared to admit.

But that note had not been the only change in his demeanor. Earlier in the afternoon when he returned, he'd come to find her almost immediately.

"How is your ankle? Are you in any pain?" he'd asked, despite knowing that her ankle was fully healed.

That simple inquiry, so unlike him, had left her pleasantly surprised.

Aurelia thought back to the way his hands had roamed over her, firm yet gentle, as though she was something precious to treasure and cherish. He had been rough, yes, but there had been a tenderness in his touch that surprised her. And when it was over; when she had been left sore, satiated and trembling, he had wrapped her in his strong arms and cradled her like a child.

Philip had carried her, washed her and wrapped her in one of his shirts before carrying her back to bed. She hadn't expected that of him, not in the least.

"He is far more compassionate than you think … "

Oliver's words echoed in her mind., Aurelia had taken his words with a grain of salt, but she was beginning to realize that truly, there was more to her husband than he let on.

"Your Grace?" Mrs. Jarrow's voice snapped her back to the present. The housekeeper was looking at her with mild curiosity.

Aurelia had been so lost in thought that she'd forgotten Mrs. Jarrow was standing there, waiting for a response.

"Would you prefer to dine alone this evening?" the older woman asked, a touch of hostility in her tone.

Aurelia blinked, shaking her head. "No, Mrs. Jarrow. I would much rather dine with my husband."

Mrs. Jarrow's eyebrows rose ever so slightly, but she nodded politely. "Very well, Your Grace. I shall inform His Grace."

As Mrs. Jarrow exited the room, Aurelia turned to call for Eilidh, who promptly stepped into the room.

"Eilidh," she began, a slight blush blooming on her cheeks. "Please dress me for dinner. I want to look…pretty tonight."

The younger girl smiled, understanding the unspoken hope in her mistress's words. "Of course, Your Grace. Would you like me to bring out the blue silk gown? It complements your complexion wonderfully."

Aurelia considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, the blue one. And the pearl earrings. I think they will suit."

She entered the dining room, her steps faltering for a moment as her eyes landed on Philip, who was already seated at the head of the table.

He looked as though he had just emerged from a bath. His hair was still slightly damp, and his clean, fresh scent filled her senses.

His presence teased her with memories she had tried to ignore all day; the memory of his hands on her, the night they had shared.

"Good evening," she said softly as she approached the table.

"Good evening," Philip replied, his gaze sweeping over her as he stood to pull out her chair. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she murmured as she sat, smoothing the fabric of her gown. "You look…refreshed."

A smile grew at the corners of his lips as he resumed his seat. "I thought a bath was in order after the day's work."

As the first course was brought to the table, they exchanged pleasantries, a rhythm of conversation that felt easier than before.

Philip regarded her with a faint smile as he took a sip of wine. "How was your day?"

"It was pleasant enough," Aurelia replied, lifting her glass. "Though I must confess I did not accomplish much of anything."

Philip arched an eyebrow. "No reading, then?"

Aurelia flushed a soft pink, knowing exactly what he was referring to. "No," she answered quickly, trying to maintain her composure. "I did not feel the need." She looked up at him, her voice taking on a playful tone. "I took a long stroll around the manor instead."

Philip's eyes lit up, though he masked his surprise behind a knowing smile. "A stroll? I am glad to hear it. Fresh air does wonders."

Aurelia noticed the subtle change in his demeanor, and how pleased he seemed by her simple activity.

They both turned their attention to their meal, the conversation flowing easily between bites of roast pheasant and delicate greens.

"And you, Philip?" Aurelia asked after a moment. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful for the most part," Philip replied, his tone casual. "Business matters, letters, nothing of great excitement."

Aurelia tilted her head, a faint smile playing on her lips as she picked at her meal. The last time she had asked him about his day, his response had been I don't see how that concerns you .

Aurelia felt a warmth between them now, something softer, as though the wall he had built between them had finally begun to crumble.

As they continued to eat, Philip leaned back slightly in his chair, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "You asked me once about my travels. You wanted to know if I preferred my time in India or Arabia."

Aurelia's eyes lit up with curiosity. "And? Have you decided?"

Philip paused, his finger resting on his chin as if lost in thought. "I believe I preferred Arabia," he said at last. "The region is rich in culture and goods, unlike anything I have seen. The sights, the smells, the markets; it is an entirely different world."

Aurelia leaned in, fascinated. "What was it like?"

Philip smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. "There is nothing quite like riding across the desert on camelback, the vast expanse of sand stretching out before you. It is vastly different from riding a horse; the gait of the camel is slower, but it gives you time to take in the landscape. The heat, the quiet…it is humbling."

Aurelia sighed softly, her gaze distant. "I wish I could close my eyes and appear there, just to experience it for myself. I imagine it must have been wonderful."

Philip's eyes gleamed with something like affection. "Perhaps we could go together one day."

Aurelia's heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, thinking it would be wonderful if she could travel with him and her father.

"I have always dreamed that it would be nice to travel with my family," he added

"Philip." Aurelia began hesitantly. "Speaking of family…my father…"

Philip's expression shifted immediately, darkening at the mention of Lord Keldbrooke. He sat up straighter, his easy manner from moments ago evaporating.

"I need to know everything that happened," Aurelia continued, her voice soft but firm. "He is the only family I have left. I cannot simply forget him."

Philip set his fork down with deliberate care, his jaw tightening. "Aurelia, I told you before, you must stay away from him."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "But why? He is my father. Surely you understand that I cannot…"

"He is not the man you think he is." Philip's voice was now cold and unyielding. "Keldbrooke is dangerous."

Aurelia shook her head, frustration bubbling within her. "He is my father! How can I believe a word of what you say if you do not tell me what actually happened that night?"

"You do not understand," Philip snapped, his voice rising. "I am trying to protect you. He…" He broke off, biting back the words.

"He what?" Aurelia pressed, her eyes narrowing. "Talk to me"

Philip's gaze hardened. "You do not need to know everything. What you need to do is trust me."

Aurelia stood up abruptly, her chair scraping across the floor. "How can I trust you when you treat me like this? You will not even allow me to see my father!"

Philip rose to his feet as well, towering over her. "I am trying my best to protect you from him," he repeated, his voice low and fierce.

Tears of frustration welled up in Aurelia's eyes. "You are keeping me in the dark, Philip! I am not some fragile thing that needs to be shielded from the truth."

Philip clenched his fists, his temper barely in check. "You think I am doing this out of cruelty? I am doing this because I must ."

"All right, then tell me the details of what transpired," Aurelia demanded, her voice trembling.

Silence fell over them. Philip raked his fingers through his hair and blew through his lips.

"You refuse to tell me! I deserve to know the truth!"

His face darkened further, his eyes flashing with anger and something deeper. "I will not let you near him," he said, his tone steely. "Not now. Not ever."

Aurelia's chest tightened, her anger and pain too much to bear. "You are holding me prisoner, Philip," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I thought…I thought we had begun to understand one another. But it seems I was wrong."

Philip's expression wavered, but only for a moment. "You are my wife," he said quietly, though the words were laced with frustration. "And I will do what is necessary to keep you safe."

Aurelia couldn't stand it any longer. With a final look of betrayal, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the dining room, the echo of her footsteps fading down the hall.

Philip remained where he stood, his fists still clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with barely suppressed emotion.

She does not trust me, so what would be the point of telling her what really happened?