Page 41 of A Virgin to Tame the Duke
Aaron spared the young man a disparaging glance. “As for you—what do you think you were doing, preying on a woman of reputable birth?”
“When it comes to reputable birth, we are both gentlemen’s children,” Mr. Calore said.
“Aaron,” Octavia scolded. “What is to be gained by this?”
“An appreciation of the man I am dealing with and who my sister has married.” Aaron turned his attention back to the two. “Please, inform me, what were your intentions when you first spied my sister? She could not have eloped with you without your consent, so you cannot wash your hands of all responsibility in the matter.”
“Aaron,” Charlotte said quietly. “Do not forget he is my cousin.”
“It’s quite all right, Charlotte,” Mr. Calore said, offering her a reassuring smile that didn’t appear to reassure her in the slightest. “His Grace has a right to be upset.”
“How very magnanimous of you,” Aaron said dryly.
“I had no intentions toward your sister when I first met her,” Mr. Calore said. “It was only several months down the line, after we met several times and she expressed an interest, that I agreed to meet with her.”
“In secret, I take it?”
“Of course, it was in secret,” Constance said. “How could you imagine I would tell you when I knew precisely how you would react?”
“I would not have been angry at your interest in a doctor, Constance.”
“But you would have done your best to persuade me not to pursue him,” she said, and the truth of her words flayed him as efficiently as if she had physically hit him. “You would have stayed my hand at every turn and insisted that you were present at all meetings, so you could dissuade us both from an affection that I believe is stronger than anything you will ever experience.”
“Constance,” Mr. Calore chided, “that is not helpful, my love.”
“But it’s true. I am nineteen and Aaron is eight-and-twenty, and he has never loved as we love one another, or he would have married.”
“Enough,” Aaron said, standing. He hardly knew whether he was furious or whether the uncomfortable, squirming feeling in his stomach was something else entirely. “This entire charade has gone on long enough. You are coming home, Constance. We are going to sort out this mess once and for all.”
Constance clung to Mr. Calore’s hand. “Not without Edward.”
“Then bring your husband,” Aaron said, every word clipped, “and you may consider when you are in London how you intend to live on a doctor’s income. There will be no party invitations for you, you know. No fancy dresses. No horses. The way in which you are accustomed to living will change.”
“I have informed her of my situation and what it will mean,” Mr. Calore said. “Be assured I would not have married her if I was not certain she could bear the deprivation living with me must bring.”
“With you,” Constance said, turning a smile to her husband, “it would not be a deprivation.”
Not wishing to see evidence of their love—not, in fact, wishing to see Constance at all—Aaron strode from the room, giving instructions for Mr. and Mrs. Calore’s things to be packed immediately. They would make what little progress they could today. The sooner they reached Hexham again, the better.
* * *
The party, both physically and emotionally exhausted, reached Hexham late the next day. Charlotte thankfully relinquished her sick mother to the care of the servants and wandered into a smaller drawing room. This one looked as though it was used less, but it was still immaculately presented; only the stale air gave it away as being a room infrequently occupied.
She pressed two fingers against her aching head. Edward and Constance were married. It hardly seemed possible, but she was fast realizing that just because shethoughtsomething, it did not make it true.
Shethoughtthat she should be glad to finally have an opportunity to untangle herself from this mess and this family, but although that was presumably the next course of action, she felt no desire to leave this beautiful house. She had no desire to leave Aaron.
Althoughthatwas a foolish thought because he had behaved abominably toward Constance—his aunt had been right: he was heavy-handed. He did nothing to foster Constance’s trust in confiding in him, and now he was paying the price.
Of course, Constance had behaved foolishly too, choosing her wedding day of all days to elope. She could have at least left a letter for Aaron informing him of her intentions, and that she had consented to the process.
In fact, from what Charlotte could gather, she had instigated the entire affair, and her cousin—someone until recently she had thought to admire—had been entirely complicit. She dropped her hand from her head as someone entered the room behind her.
“Pray excuse me,” she said, turning and expecting to see a servant. Instead, she saw Aaron, looking as wretched as he had when he’d left the carriage. “Oh. I hadn’t expected to see you here.”
“Clearly. Did you come here to avoid me?”
“I came here to avoid everyone,” she said, crossing the room to stand by the window, so she didn’t have to be too close to him. This was the first time they’d been alone since their escapades in the garden, and she had no desire to repeat the experience. Her heart was bruised enough—she could not bear it if he enticed her into caring for him more before they were to part ways.
