“I beg your pardon?” Mr Aubrey’s fair eyebrows soared over his spectacles.
“Oh, never mind.” Miss Thomas and Serena were whispering together in a huddle nearby while Georgie looked on with a frown, but the rest of the crowd was thinning precipitously now. “There’s no time for any of this! Perhaps ...” She was about to suggest they find a quiet spot for a private conversation after supper when she caught her aunt’s determined gaze through the stream of exiting visitors.
Ah.
Perhaps tonight was not an evening to depend upon any lack of watchful eyes, after all. “Meet me in the old converted chapel room at midnight,” – by which time Aunt Parry should be either asleep or safely immersed in novelistic fervour – “and I’ll tell you everything. For now, though, hurry while I distract my aunt! Go and find Uncle Parry and talk dragons, if you like. You can pretend you’re only here to help him with his work.”
“But I am here to help him with his work!” Mr Aubrey’s voice rose in unhidden exasperation. “Miss Parry—”
“What?” She blinked at the surname he’d used. “Oh, no, that’s not my—”
Doggedly, he continued, speaking over her protest. “If you’d merely allow me to share your secrets with your uncle, I believe—”
“Certainly not!”
“But—”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Scholars could happily argue over theoretical principles for hours, but as the last few stragglers delivered their farewells to Aunt Parry, Rose glimpsed Mr Aubrey’s final chance at escape slipping away. “Just go! Use the side door, quickly.” Daringly, she pushed with both hands at his closest arm.
The wool of his dress coat prickled against her skin, but he stood surprisingly strong against the pressure, glowering down at her in a way that sent a startling new tickle of heat swirling through her. The sensation was so distracting it took her a moment to realise that her hands were still firmly pressed against his arm ... which felt warm and rather fascinating beneath that close-fitting sleeve.
Sucking in a breath, she took a hasty step backwards and closed her fingers tightly over her palms. “Please?” Her voice sounded absurdly breathy, as if she were still play-acting Gwinthlean.
Mr Aubrey let out a sigh through his teeth and finally turned. “If you insist. But we will speak again about this at midnight!”
“Of course we will,” Rose said soothingly, and collapsed onto his empty chair to stroke Rhiannon and gather up her scattered wits. She would need every one of them for the upcoming confrontation.
Unfortunately, the aunt she found waiting for her, once all their visitors had finally left the room, was not the distracted bundle of warmth whom she was accustomed to facing. Aunt Parry’s gaze looked remarkably sharp and focused as she said, “Come here, Rose, and sit close by me. Girls, you may leave us. You won’t be needed for this particular conversation.”
Serena sighed as she rose to her feet, leaving behind her copy of her mother’s manuscript but holding a small, folded piece of paper half-concealed against her skirt. “At least I’m not the one being lectured for once.”
“Oh, dear ...” Beth winced and looked away as she hurried through the open door as swiftly as if she were escaping a crime.
Behind the others, Georgie gave Rose a sympathetic grimace and a shrug ... but still closed the door behind her with a click of terrible finality.
“I see that Mr Aubrey hasn’t remained to support you.” Aunt Parry shook her head as she watched Rose collect Rhiannon in her arms and make her careful way forwards through the fleet of empty chairs. “I must say, I am disappointed. I had thought that young man might have more fortitude than to leave you to bear my displeasure on your own. It is hardly a promising start to a lifetime commitment, is it?”
“He did wish to stay.” Rose sank into her new seat, carefully adjusting Rhiannon in her lap. “I told him to leave, though, as it was my responsibility to bear. It wasn’t his fault that I spoke about our betrothal in front of everyone before we’d even had a chance to speak to you and Uncle Parry.”
“Hmm.” Aunt Parry frowned as she watched Rhiannon shiver in Rose’s lap. “I’ve never seen such an anxious dragon.”
She would if she went upstairs and met Griff ... but Rose bit her tongue to hold back that unhelpful point. “Rhiannon is very brave, really. She’s only unaccustomed to new people.”
“Hmm.” Aunt Parry’s second hum was even more sceptical than her first. She expelled it in a heavy sigh that left her face loose with a vulnerability that was far more difficult to withstand. “My dear. I am not angry with you, but I am confused, and concerned, as well.”
“I promise you needn’t worry about me, Aunt.”
“So you’ve been telling us all for over half a year, child. And yet ...” She shook her head slowly. “I will confess that I did cherish some hope when I learned how young and eligible Humphrey’s friend was that you and he might find you suited each other. But for a betrothal to be agreed upon so astonishingly quickly, without any time for the rest of our family to come to know him, or for his family to even hear of your existence ... not to mention Sir Gareth’s claim that he saw you two together, earlier today, in a situation that suggested a betrothal was imminent ...!
“I must ask, frankly, had the two of you ever met before today?”
“Ah ...” Looking into her aunt’s eyes, Rose couldn’t bring herself to tell another falsehood, no matter how helpful one might have been. Instead, she smiled weakly. “How long did it take Gwinthlean to know that Captain Jones was her true hero?”
“Captain Jones,” said her aunt tartly, “is not only a fictional creation but also not the heir to one of Britain’s vastest fortunes.”
“The what?” Rose’s jaw dropped open. Of course she had taken note of Mr Aubrey’s elegant carriage, not to mention the quality of the garments he wore ... but heir to a fortune? He was a scholar, not a nobleman or ...
Rose’s flurry of racing thoughts came to a horrified halt as she realised what her aunt might be implying. “I would never try to entrap a wealthy man against his will, especially when it comes to one of Uncle Parry’s friends! Aunt, I do hope you know—”
