Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

" G ood morning, Your Grace. Your guest has arrived," the housekeeper of Bridget House announced.

Aurelia stirred in her chair, her gaze unfocused in the dim light of her chamber. She had slept poorly and it showed. The traces of her restless night were etched into the dark shadows beneath her eyes and her skin was paler than usual; a stark contrast to her buttery hair that fell loosely about her shoulders.

She nodded, acknowledging the housekeeper, though her mind felt far away.

My father has finally arrived.

She stood up, smoothing the front of her gown with trembling fingers and glanced in the mirror. The woman that stared back was a version of herself she barely recognized: her eyes red and swollen, her lips pressed together into a thin line from holding back more tears. She had cried throughout the night, the only way she could think of to drown the ache in her heart after her bitter confrontation with Philip.

With one last deep breath, Aurelia squared her shoulders and made her way to the drawing room where her father waited.

When she entered, Lord Keldbrooke rose from his chair with a broad smile on his face, a stark contrast to her somber expression. His sharp and unapologetic words sliced through the air before she had an opportunity to speak.

"So, what is it, then? Has he agreed to the divorce?" he asked, a sense of eagerness in his tone.

Aurelia stopped in her tracks, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Divorce?" she echoed, stunned. "You think my quarrel with Philip is grounds for divorce?"

"Of course," Lord Keldbrooke replied without hesitation. "You heard him, did you not? He said he no longer trusts you. What is the point of remaining in such a marriage?"

Aurelia's heart clenched with a mix of disbelief and rage. Her father's words felt like a betrayal.

"Is that what you want?" she asked, her voice trembling. "To see me divorced from him because of a single argument?"

Lord Keldbrooke's expression hardened. "Yes. The man kept you from me; his arrogance knows no bounds. After all of this, how could you consider staying?"

Aurelia's anger flared. "Will you sit there and lie to me about your involvement in Gabriel's death?" she demanded, her eyes flashing with accusation and hope that perhaps, just perhaps, she had been wrong all along.

Her father's expression remained impassive for a moment before his lips twisted into a faint smile. "I did not kill him, Aurelia. The duel was Gabriel's idea, not mine. He was a poor shot, and it was his fatal mistake."

Aurelia had prepared for this. "I spoke to the loan sharks," she lied, her gaze steady on him. "They told me otherwise."

The change in Lord Keldbrooke's expression was instant. Gone was the calm composure. His eyes darkened with anger, his mouth twisting into a sneer.

"Those sly bastards," he spat, pacing the length of the room in agitation. "Fine. Yes, I owed Gabriel money. But what of it?" He turned to her, his eyes gleaming maniacally. "I knew he would demand a duel. He always fancied himself a better shot, so I arranged for someone to tamper with his gun."

Aurelia's breath hitched in her throat as she stared at her father, the force of his admission crashing into her.

"So what if I did it?" Lord Keldbrooke continued, his voice rising. "Did I not do what was best for you? Think, Aurelia! If I had died in that duel, you would have had no one to look after you, no one to care for you. You would have been alone, left to fend for yourself. Instead, I survived. I stayed alive long enough to see you married to a Duke, for heaven's sake!"

Aurelia stood frozen, her mind reeling. Everything Philip had said was true. Her father had not only gambled recklessly with their future but had schemed and plotted exactly as Philip had warned her. Philip had not kept these secrets from her to protect himself, but to protect her from the harsh truth about the man who had raised her.

Lord Keldbrooke continued ranting. "You are such a fool, Aurelia, falling for that Duke. But now you see his true nature, do you not? He does not trust you. He does not want you. You are finally free of him."

Aurelia's heart ached, but her resolve grew stronger. "What would you have me do, Father?" she asked, her voice sharp with accusation. "What would you have me do now?"

Lord Keldbrooke leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "Take whatever you can from him. He is a Duke , Aurelia. He has wealth, lands and influence. You have been living in luxury. Take advantage of that, get what you can and move on."

Aurelia recoiled in horror. "You want me to steal from him?"

Lord Keldbrooke nodded, his tone cold and calculating. "Yes. Be useful for once in your miserable life. Take what you can before it is too late."

Aurelia's hands trembled, not from fear but from disgust. She had always believed her father to be kind and gentle, but this was something she had never expected. She felt her last bit of respect for him evaporate.

"I will not," she declared, her voice steady despite the maelstrom of emotions churning inside of her.

Lord Keldbrooke sneered. "You must if you want to survive. Do you think Philip will forgive you for meeting with me? You are a fool, girl. He will discard you and you will be left with nothing."

Aurelia rose from her seat, her eyes cold as they locked onto her father's. "I would rather be left with nothing than stoop to your level."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and left the room. No matter how broken her heart was, she would not become what her father wanted. She would not betray Philip, not like that.

The days that followed were filled with an unbearable sense of loss and loneliness for Aurelia. She moved about Bridget House like a ghost, unable to find solace in anything; neither food nor conversation nor books.

She had become a shell of herself, the spark in her eyes quashed by the bitter truth she had learned about her father.

It was as if the world had shifted beneath her feet, leaving her adrift in a sea of despair. How had she been so blind? How could she have ignored all the signs, dismissed Philip's warnings and believed that her father was anything but the dangerous man he had proven himself to be?

She had trusted him and defended him because she could not bear to believe that the man who raised her could also be capable of such cruelty and deception. And now…now she had lost Philip.

The very man who had tried to protect her from the truth.

At least now you know his true nature.

Tears of despair and disappointment welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks despite her attempts to hold them back. Her father had been a liar, a schemer, and, worst of all, a murderer.

It broke her to her very core.

But the thought of Philip, who had given her his trust only to have it shattered, made her heart ache more than she thought possible.

She had been such a fool. How could she not have believed him? How could she have doubted the one man who had shown her nothing but love and affection?

Aurelia was haunted by the image of Philip's face when he found her with her father. The betrayal in his eyes, the raw anger that twisted his features; it had been more than she could bear. Now, because of her own blindness and stupidity, she had lost the love of her life.

Bridget House, with its dark walls and heavy drapes, seemed to close in on her, suffocating her with its silence. It wasn't the grand, imposing structure that made her feel so small and insignificant; it was the realization that she had lost everything she ever had. She could now relate to the pain that Philip had suffered.

Her father had betrayed her, but what was worse, she had betrayed Philip.

A knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts and she hurriedly wiped her eyes in a futile effort to compose herself. She couldn't let anyone see her in such a state, not even Eilidh.

"Come in," Aurelia called out, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to keep her emotions at bay.

Eilidh entered the room with a gentle smile, carrying a tray in her hands. "I brought you some tea, Your Grace," she said softly, setting the tray down on the small table by the window.

Aurelia nodded, though she had no intention of drinking the tea. Her appetite had vanished entirely, replaced by a gnawing emptiness that filled her chest.

"Thank you, Eilidh," she murmured, turning her gaze out the window, unable to meet the maid's concerned eyes.

Eilidh hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Your Grace…your friends have come to see you."

Aurelia blinked, her head turning slightly. "Friends?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, Your Grace," Eilidh replied. "The Duchesses are waiting outside."

For the first time in days, a spark of something resembling hope ignited in Aurelia's heart. She had been so consumed by her misery and her overwhelming grief at losing Philip that she had forgotten about the few friendships she had formed.

She sat up.

Perhaps…perhaps seeing them might bring me some comfort, some distraction from the crushing weight of my thoughts.

She placed a hand over her chest. "I…" She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I do not know if I am up for visitors, Eilidh."

The maid furrowed her brow with concern. "Your Grace, they came all this way to see you. I think it might do you some good to speak with them. You have been so…so sad these past few days."

Aurelia rose from her bed to glance at her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was a disheveled stranger. Her eyes were swollen from crying and her complexion was pale and drawn.

"I look dreadful," she muttered, smoothing her hands over her dress in a futile attempt to make herself presentable.

"They will not mind, Your Grace," Eilidh assured her gently. "They are your friends. They will understand."

Aurelia took a deep breath and nodded, though her heart still felt heavy with sorrow. "Very well," she said, rising from her seat. "Show them in, Eilidh."

Eilidh curtsied and hurried out of the room, leaving Aurelia standing by the window, her hands clasped together in front of her as she waited. The thought of facing anyone, even her closest friends, felt daunting.

Moments later, Eilidh returned, leading Catherine and Beatrice into the room. Both women looked concerned as they approached, their gazes softening as they took in Aurelia's appearance.

"My dear Aurelia," Catherine said, her voice filled with warmth and concern. "We came as soon as we heard. Are you all right?"

Aurelia managed a small, tight smile although it didn't reach her eyes. "I have fared better," she admitted, her voice hoarse from the tears she had shed.

Beatrice stepped forward, taking Aurelia's hands in her own. "We were so worried about you," she said softly. "We came because we want you to know that we are here for you."

Aurelia's heart clenched at the kindness in their words and for the first time since arriving in London she allowed herself to feel the comfort of their presence.

I am not…not entirely.

Perhaps with their support she would somehow overcome this catastrophe.