Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

A urelia ran the tips of her fingers over the banister as she made her way downstairs.

All her attempts to gain the trust of the staff had fallen flat, and she was unsure what to do next. She could not call upon her father, and she had not made friends among the ladies of the Ton.

She wished with all her might that Philip would return from whatever venture had called him away from the manor. At least then, if nothing more, she would have someone to argue with. Her efforts to discover more about his past kept her mind occupied.

"Good morning, Your Grace," a man's voice suddenly called, startling her, and she looked up.

"Good morning?" She descended the stairs cautiously, wondering if she should call for help.

The man seemed distinguished enough with his neat blue tails, wavy brown hair, and kind green eyes. His boyish features exuded charm and eased her concerns as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"May I be of any assistance?" Aurelia asked when he failed to provide an explanation for his presence.

Looking down, he smiled before meeting her gaze. "Forgive me, Your Grace. I assumed that Philip would have informed you of my visit. I did send a note yesterday afternoon, yet I can see by your startled expression that you were not informed of my visit."

"Philip?" She raised an eyebrow at the informal reference to her husband.

She grew increasingly more intrigued by the man's sudden presence. If the servants were unwilling to answer her questions, then perhaps this man would.

His boyish smile only widened. "I seem to be making quite a blunder of this meeting. If I may, I would like to start this conversation over again." He raised an eyebrow, mimicking her expression.

"Go on." She nodded and waited patiently, intrigued by his demeanor.

The man stepped forward and bowed deeply, waving his arm with a comical flourish before he straightened up.

"My name is Oliver Audley, the Viscount Whitley. I am one of your husband's friends." The corners of his mouth curled into a boyish smile that charmed her.

Aurelia pursed her lips, then let out a giggle, thankful for the welcome distraction. She gripped the sides of her dress and curtsied in an overly flamboyant manner.

"The pleasure is all mine, My Lord. To what do we owe this pleasure, if I may be so bold as to enquire?"

The Viscount laughed. "I am here to pay homage to my good friend's union."

"A gift?" Aurelia looked around the empty hall. "But I see no evidence of this homage."

Tilting his head back, Oliver laughed from the pit of his stomach. "Forgive my mirth, Your Grace. The gift is an Arabian stallion. I have already instructed my men to take it to the stables. You may come and inspect it if you wish?"

He turned his body sideways and gestured with one hand to the front door.

Narrowing her eyes, Aurelia lifted her chin. "That is quite all right, My Lord. I am sure that the staff will eventually inform us of any lack of Arabian stallions. I am afraid that my husband is not home at present."

A frown creased the Viscount's brow, yet the smile never left his lips. "Do you know when he will return?"

He ceased his playful banter but remained friendly.

"I am afraid that I do not. Would you care to join me for tea in the parlor while we wait? I would hate to think that you had come all this way for nothing."

She gestured to a passing maid and instructed her to send a tea tray to the parlor.

"That would be lovely. I am rather parched after such a long ride."

The Viscount folded his hands behind his back and waited for Aurelia to lead the way to the parlor.

Pausing on her way past him, she frowned. "Did you ride the horse all the way from London? That must have been quite a ride."

"Not on the back of the beast, no. I had one of my men ride the horse while I followed behind in my carriage. I am afraid that I am not as gallant as you think I am. I prefer comfort over bravery."

Aurelia laughed and shook her head, leading the way to the parlor that was used for entertaining guests, just off the entrance hall.

The neat little room boasted a small nook furnished with couches and a coffee table, as well as a pianoforte. The heavy pink drapes were pulled all the way back to let in as much light as possible.

"Please, My Lord, take a seat." She gestured to the settee opposite the chaise lounge as she tucked her dress beneath her knees and sat down.

"Thank you, Your Grace. You know, I did recognize you almost as soon as I saw you on the stairs. We have never met in person, but I knew your father. You have the same eyes," Oliver spoke just as a maid carried in a tea tray.

Aurelia furrowed her brow as she tried to place him. "Forgive me, but I do not think I recall ever seeing you, My Lord. I think I would have remembered if my father ever mentioned a Viscount Whitley."

Oliver accepted the cup offered to him by the maid and sat back. The sparkle in his eyes faded for a moment and was replaced by shame and guilt.

"No, you would not have. Your father and I only ever ran into one another in one of the many gambling halls that both of us frequented in London."

Her body suddenly stiffened at the mention of her father's gambling. If it was true, then why was she never aware of her father's behavior? He did go out most nights of the week, yet she had assumed that all gentlemen frequented clubs. Her husband certainly disappeared for extended periods of time.

"I am not proud of my past, but I do have some fond memories. Your father and I used to place bets on who would lose more money when we had a bit too much to drink. Quite an ironic bet, I know," the Viscount added with a light chuckle.

He seemed to sense the sudden change in atmosphere, as he placed his teacup back on the tray and leaned forward with his forearms on his knees.

"I did not mean to offend you, Your Grace. I am certainly in no position to judge anyone else's behavior."

Forcing a smile, Aurelia placed her hands in her lap and sat up straight. "There is no need to apologize, My Lord. How often did you and my father frequent these gaming halls? I have only recently learned that it was part of his life."

"I…" the Viscount trailed off as a flush crept up his neck.

Aurelia could feel that talking about the situation made him uncomfortable, yet she couldn't see any other way to gain more clarity about her father's behavior.

"What is going on in here?" The Duke suddenly stepped into the room, nodding a curt greeting to Aurelia before looking at Oliver.

Aurelia took charge of the situation and stood up, smiling at her husband despite his dismissal. "We were just waiting for you while we had tea."

They hadn't spoken since their fight the previous day. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he briefly met her gaze.

Rising to his feet, Oliver interjected, "I am afraid that it is my fault. I brought the gift that I mentioned in my note yesterday. I did not think you would be out when I came to call. Her Grace was gracious enough to keep me company whilst I waited."

"You are early. I will receive you in the study while Her Grace finishes her tea."

The Duke turned on his heel and left the room without giving Aurelia the chance to protest.

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck as he turned to her with an apologetic smile. "Thank you for the tea, Your Grace. It was lovely meeting you in person. I hope we can get to know each other a little better in the future."

He bowed politely and followed the Duke.

Aurelia stood and watched his retreating back, feeling her frustrations grow.

She had been so close to getting more information about her father. There was no denying the fact that doubts had set in since her wedding. The more time that passed without any effort on his part to see her, the more she realized that something wasn't right.

The father who had raised her did not resemble the man who had sold her to the Duke.

She needed to know more about him, and about the man she had married.

Silence filled the study as Philip poured them each a glass of whiskey, taking his time as he caught his breath following his long ride.

He'd taken to riding in the afternoons, even though it felt like a chore. Yet, he reasoned with himself that anything was better than bickering with his wife.

"Is that truly how you greet your wife after coming back from God knows where?" Oliver took a seat in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and waited for Philip to join him.

"She is my wife in name only. There is no need to stand on ceremony, given the parameters of our agreement," Philip grunted and fell into the empty armchair, rubbing his hand over his chin.

"Parameters?" Oliver raised an eyebrow and reached for the glass of whiskey that Philip had placed on the small table between them.

Philip grew weary as he realized his friend would not stop badgering him until he got to the heart of the matter. He had hoped to keep his arrangement with his wife a secret, but Oliver was a trustworthy man. He had turned his life around after leading a debauched lifestyle that had caused his family a great deal of discomfort.

"Aurelia Godwin is my wife in name only. I do not intend to pretend as though she is not the daughter of Gabriel's murderer. Nor do I intend to consummate our union and risk carrying on that devil's line."

Philip shook his head and threw back his whiskey in one gulp, feeling the warm sting at the back of his throat.

"Ah, and who exactly are you punishing with this decision? Aurelia or her father? Perhaps both?" Oliver sat back in his chair and waited for a response, pensively chewing the inside of his cheek.

Clenching his jaw, Philip placed the empty glass beside him and stared into the empty fireplace. It was far too warm to light a fire, yet he longed for the crackling of the logs that would distract him from his thoughts.

"Elton Godwin deserves to be punished for what he did."

Oliver leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands between his knees. "And is your wife to be punished alongside him? Forgive me for sticking my nose where it does not belong, but I do not think that your wife had any idea of her father's wrongdoings. She seemed surprised when I mentioned that I knew him from my gambling days."

Philip's head snapped up and he glared at his friend. "What else did you tell her during my absence?"

"Nothing that she does not already know. We discussed the stallion, and then her father. She wanted to know more, but you, quite rudely if I may add, interrupted our conversation." Oliver cocked his head as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

Philip leaned back in his chair, relaxing a little. "You are not to speak with her ever again in my absence. I do not wish to risk the possibility of Aurelia feeding her father information about my life. I am keeping her at a distance, and I would advise you to do the same."

Oliver deliberated for a moment as he rubbed his hands together and stared at the empty fireplace. "I believe that you are making a mistake. I doubt that your wife knew anything about her father's actions, and I doubt even more that she is supplying him with information."

Irritation flowed through Philip's veins. Who was Oliver to question how he managed his affairs?

"You cannot be angry with her for talking to anyone who gives her the time of day. The poor lady seems to be pining for company. I hesitate to repeat myself, but your wife is innocent in all of this."

"She is a Godwin. Make no mistake that her loyalty will always lie with her father," Philip snapped when he felt that his friend was getting too personal for comfort.

What business was it of his if he chose to keep his wife at a distance?

Placing his hands on his knees, Oliver pushed himself up and stood. "I will not tell you how to conduct your affairs, Philip. But I do think you are wrong for punishing Aurelia for her father's behavior. There is also another thing you said earlier that is incorrect."

"Do enlighten me as to what that is." Philip found himself growing tired of the conversation.

Oliver made his way to the door.

"Your wife is no longer Aurelia Godwin. She is an Ellington now, and more specifically, the Duchess of Oakdale. You cannot keep her at arm's length forever." Oliver paused in the doorway and looked back at him. "If I may be so bold, with a woman as beautiful and charming as she is, do you really think that you will be able to keep your hands off her forever?"

He gave Philip a knowing smile before stepping into the hall.

Philip mulled over his friend's words for a while before heaving a sigh. Oliver certainly had a point when it came to Aurelia's beauty.

He had come close to kissing her a few times since their wedding and it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist her.

Yet, the fact remained that she was the daughter of the man who had killed his brother. There was no telling what she would do for her father if given the chance.