Page 47 of Unraveled By the Duke
Aurelia shook her head. “I sneaked out with Lavinia. She said it would be an adventure. But I lost her in the crowd, and then I met Phillip. And he has always been so kind to me. So gentlemanly. He said he had seen her coming out here and then…” She dissolved into tears.
Alexander looked around suddenly, and Celia felt him tense. “This is not the place for this conversation. We must leave before the entire Assembly Rooms come here to see what the commotion is about,” he said urgently.
To her dismay, Celia thought she heard anger in his voice.
“This is not my sister’s fault,” she whispered fiercely.
“I did not say that it was. Nevertheless, we are in grave danger as we stand here. The more people who gather, the less chance we will get out of here with our reputations intact. We must go!”
“Your Grace!” Archie Wainwright was pushing his way through the throng that had gathered at the doors leading into the Assembly Rooms.
A growing hubbub of gossip was filling the air, but as of yet, no one was close enough to see who lurked in the shadows.
“There is a back way out. Few know of it, but it pays to know of such things in my profession,” he said as he neared the three.
Alexander bared his teeth in a silent snarl, then nodded his head ferociously—a lion roused to anger. “Show us the way, Wainwright, and be quick about it!”
Celia recognized the young man and his name; it was the same one who had asked for her next dance and been spurned so jealously by Alexander.
“Who is this?” she asked as they followed him into the darkness.
“A friend,” Wainwright said, glancing over his shoulder at her.
“An employee,” Alexander corrected. “A former employee.”
“And one who is conscious of what is best for your good names at this point. Once, it would have worked to our favor to step fully into the light back there and be seen by all. But I think you are looking for a different outcome this time, Your Grace?”
Celia did not understand anything the man was saying, but she recognized his accent. She had once heard a man giving a talk on art. A man from across the Atlantic.
“You’re American!” she gasped.
“Yes, ma’am. New York, actually. My grandfather fought with the loyalists, and I ended up an Englishman. But then I spent many years in America. Enough to pick up the accent,” Wainwright explained.
“She doesn’t need to know you, and you don’t need to know her,” Alexander grunted.
“No, Your Grace. Just getting acquainted. My business is people, after all.”
“And what business is that?” Celia asked.
“Enough!” Alexander snapped. “Here is a gate. This is the way out?”
Without waiting for the affirmative, he wrenched it open and looked outside.
Celia whispered to her sister, watching as Wainwright slipped out after Alexander. Then, he motioned for the two women to follow.
They found themselves in a cobbled alley. Alexander stood at the end, waving down a cab. Celia urged Aurelia to run with her, Wainwright following behind.
At the end of the alley was a wider street. Alexander was holding open the door of a carriage. Celia helped Aurelia inside, and Alexander followed. He slammed the door shut in Wainwright’s face.
“I will be in touch, Your Grace,” the man said with an insouciant grin.
CHAPTER 15
Celia approached Alexander’s rooms with trepidation.
Aurelia was in her rooms, terrified of the consequences of the night’s events, too frightened of their father to return to Banfield House. She was even more afraid of the swift-winged rumors that must be flying from one corner of the capital to the other now.
It would mark the end of Aurelia’s social life before it had even begun. The poisoning of the well. The twilight of her life before she had even reached her twentieth year.
