The Bluestocking’s Absolutely Brilliant Betrothal (The Notorious Briarwoods #6)

Chapter 9

I t had not even been a week and things had gotten entirely out of hand.

Guilt was not the emotion Aurelia had expected to experience upon the announcement of her engagement to Lord Achilles Briarwood. He was the brother of a duke. He was part of a very wealthy and powerful family. She should have simply felt ecstatic. Ecstatic that her mother and father could tell all of society about what a wonderful match she’d made. They could feel proud, accomplished, successful.

That was not how she felt at present.

They were indeed ecstatic. So ecstatic that her mother had clapped her hands together, trilled with triumph, and immediately announced that she would be hosting an impromptu party.

A small party, her mother had said.

This was not a small party. This was a party so large Aurelia could not wiggle her way through her own hallway. As a matter of fact, she was quite concerned that she would be growing damp underneath her gown. The rooms were hot. People were everywhere. Feathers tickled people’s noses. Ladies could not turn without having a gentleman’s elbow in their side or jewels glittering in their eyes.

Her parents’ townhouse, attached to Green Park, was a large affair. They were not a small family themselves, and perhaps that was why she had slightly miscalculated this solution.

She had not considered that she was uniting two ancient, powerful families. Now, granted, the Duke of Westleigh’s title was not as old as her own father’s. Her father’s was not as great or as vast in terms of land and wealth, but his was much older, and he still did have a great many lands and a great deal of money and a lot of influence.

So, she was not simply a young lady marrying a young man.

They were two dynasties coming together to unite against the growing tide of uncertainty in the world, which, at first thought, should have been exactly what she wanted. Except for the fact that she had no intention of the union going forward.

This was terrible!

She’d tried to convince her mother not to have the party. She’d even asked Achilles to ask her mother not to do it. They had both suggested to her that something smaller would be better, but her mother had not been gainsaid and, worst of all possible things, the Dowager Duchess of Westleigh had written that she would be more than happy to assist in arranging the events.

Selections of European opera singers and musicians had been taken up by the dowager.

They had not, of course, been able to get anyone across the Channel that quickly, especially with the way things were on the continent. However, there were many, many people who had evacuated France and were now living in England.

Aurelia supposed she could be glad, at least, when a leading soprano went to the center of the ballroom and began a Mozart aria, that she was giving work to a displaced Parisian opera house singer.

After all, the only reason the performer was singing at present was because of her mother’s party and her engagement to Achilles.

Perhaps this could be a whole new angle to her cause. Perhaps she could find other ways of employing out-of-work Parisian performers as part of her faux engagement to Lord Achilles.

It might assuage her conscience.

Her fears over France would not be so easily remedied, of course. She could not stop thinking about her friend who was trapped there. The beauty of this ball and the skill of the singer could not distract her from Anais’s danger.

The only thing which gave her hope at present was that Achilles had taken her name and had promised to do whatever he could to bring her to London.

This ball seemed so…foolish. So unnecessary when she had no intention of marrying. Was she the worst of daughters after all? She feared that she was, for daring to want more, but also for being unwilling to disappoint her father and mother with the truth.

Her stomach twisted.

None of this had been what she had foreseen or anticipated. Her mother had dragged her to the couturier. She had ten new gowns coming. She did not have time to be measured and fitted for ten new gowns.

She needed to do things. She had plans, and the fact was that Lord Achilles was magnificent at helping her achieve her plans. He came to visit her every day, took her in his coach, and off they went to various places that she’d never been to meet people she’d never had access to.

He was a font of information, and he could get in anywhere and see anyone.

He was swiftly becoming an ally she never wanted to give up.

She wondered how hard it would be to let that go when the time came. But still, she could not allow this strange reliance upon him that she was beginning to feel, even in a short period of time, to grow.

No, no. She had to build a bastion of protection around herself because, despite all of the joy that her mother and father felt, and the excitement around the engagement, she could see the brittleness on her mother’s face as her mother watched her father decline.

It was hard, so very hard indeed.

Her father spent most of the day in bed now. If he got out of bed for an hour or so, it was with great effort. He would shine for a period of time, and then he would retire again immediately.

Aurelia could see her mother steeling herself, protecting herself somehow from the future loss of him. Well, she would be far more careful than her mother had ever been. She would never have to face that tide of grief, no. She would make certain that she did not. And so she would be able to do the work she wished to do, to help people, and she would protect herself.

Yes, this was a perfect situation in which she could not lose. She had to remind herself of this hourly, and if her mother felt a trifle disappointed when the engagement was broken, it would be well in the end, truly.

It did not feel like it would be well, now that she had launched herself into this. As a matter of fact, she’d begun to wonder if she’d been tricked. Had the Duchess of Westleigh misled her?

Surely, the lady was not so nefarious. It had all seemed perfectly sensible. But not so much now as Lord Achilles slipped his hand into hers and led her towards the front of the crowd, as the opera singer lifted her voice in the most beautiful, soaring last notes of the aria, and he looked at her.

She knew what she was supposed to do, and so she performed her part. Aurelia looked swooningly at the opera singer, and when the last haunting note pierced the air, she applauded. She applauded with every bit of her soul.

The opera singer gave a beautiful, deep curtsy to her, and Aurelia encouraged the room to applaud for many more minutes because the more admired the opera singer was, the more people would inquire about having the opera singer come and perform for them.

And after several minutes, when the applause had at last quieted, Lord Achilles turned to her. “A job well done.”

“Yes, my mother and your mother have really done excellently,” she said, her voice brittle.

His brow furrowed. “You seem a little displeased.”

“I’m a little bit concerned,” she admitted.

“Oh?” he said. “In what way?”

“This is all far more than I had anticipated,” she whispered.

“You don’t like it?” he stated.

“I’m afraid,” she breathed, her heart tightening as she tried not to draw attention to her distress.

“You’re afraid?” he said, clearly astonished. “Of what?”

“That my mother’s heart is going to be broken when I don’t marry you.”

His brows rose. “You seem awfully afraid of broken hearts, Aurelia,” he said softly.

“What?” she gasped.

“Correct me if I am mistaken,” he said softly, “but you were afraid that your mother’s heart would be broken if you did not marry. Now you’re afraid that her heart will be broken after the engagement, and you are generally afraid that your parents will be displeased. Is this not true?”

She snorted, though she felt completely seen by his remarks and it was quite strange. “Are you not ever afraid that your mother will be displeased by you?”

He stared at her for a long moment and then said, “No, I’m not.”

She blinked, hardly able to believe such a thing. “What the devil do you mean?”

“My mother has raised us in such a way that we cannot disappoint her.” He hesitated, searching for his words. “That is, of course, unless we did something really nefarious.”

She narrowed her gaze. “What do you mean by that exactly?”

“If we profited from workhouses. That sort of thing.”

“I see,” she breathed.

“But we can’t truly disappoint her,” he continued. “She knows that we’re people with wills of our own, and she has done the best she can with us. Besides, all of us know that if we do horrible things, we’ll feel miserable. She taught us that well. It’s an awful recipe for life, doing horrible things.”

“And have I done horrible things?” she whispered, her insides twisting as she thought of the lies she’d told her parents.

“Aurelia, how could you possibly have done a horrible thing?” he asked, his gaze softening.

As the crowd began to dissipate and the orchestra started up their notes, he slipped his hand to her waist and began turning her to the sprightly dance music.

“I think I have done something horrible,” she confessed.

“What?” he asked, his gaze full of concern.

“I’ve lied,” she said, annoyed that he had clearly forgotten her misdeeds.

He blinked. “Aurelia, people lie all the time.”

“You don’t,” she said tightly.

“It’s because I don’t have to lie.”

“Well, aren’t you lying now,” she said, “by saying you’re going to marry me?”

“No,” he said. “I’m not lying.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I will marry you if I have to. Or if you want me to,” he said.

She swallowed, her mind slipping back to their kiss and how…enthusiastically he had tempted her. “Yes, I see that.”

“Remember, I told you. I think you chose to believe I was in jest, but I will be perfectly pleased if you marry me. And I shall somehow carry on if you don’t,” he said with dramatic flair.

She was tempted to swat him but refrained lest she cause a scene. “Your sacrifice is noted,” she drawled.

“Thank you. And it will be a sacrifice if I have to let you go. If that’s what you prefer.”

“I beg your pardon,” she breathed, holding his hand far tighter than she should. As if, somehow, if she let go, she’d fall.

“I like you, Aurelia. I genuinely feel it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing if you were my wife.”

She blinked, and her stomach did the oddest little flips. “But I don’t wish to get married. That’s why I came to your mother.”

“Yes, I know,” he said. “That’s where the real problem is, isn’t it? But that’s all right. There’s time.”

“Time for what?” she protested, but he did not reply.

And as they danced up and down the floor, she spotted her mother, who was looking on quite happily. And Aurelia began to get the dreaded feeling that her mother might want to visit St. Paul’s soon and arrange a date.

But Aurelia did not wish to do that. She had begun good work with Lord Achilles, and she wanted it to continue.

She had already taken a little of her savings and rented a building in which they could shelter workers who had been displaced from Paris, who were here in London doing their very best to get work.

And it was no easy thing for them because, as wonderful as England could be, sometimes the English were rather distrusting of Parisians at present. But she was determined to make certain those workers who made it from Paris would be able to get work and be helped. Anyone fleeing such horrors should not be ostracized but cared for. And she was genuinely grateful that Achilles was so committed to aiding her.

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps he should be her husband. Perhaps… No, no! She wouldn’t entertain such a thing. She was going to be independent. She was going to marry her work. Her work would never leave her, as her father would have to leave her mother through no choice of his own.

Her mouth dried as too many feelings began swirling inside her.

She squeezed his hands. “Forgive me,” she said. “I need a breath of fresh air, please. I need a moment.”

And before she could let herself be taken in more by his caring looks and beautiful visage, or feel the weight of her mother’s hope, she broke free of his embrace and headed for the edges of the ballroom.

There was a slight murmur that went up around them, and she realized she was potentially causing a scene, but she could not stop herself. She had to go out into the fresh air.

She had to steel herself because, in that moment, she knew that her resistance to marriage wasn’t entirely because of all the things she had to do, all the work she wanted to accomplish.

It was more than that. Far more.

And perhaps she was finally willing to admit it now and face it. But she wasn’t sure if she could because she didn’t want to say it out loud. Not fully.

No one had yet to truly say it in her family.

Aurelia raced out into the night and tried to see the stars, but they were all gone, even the moon. Dratted London and its smoke overhead!

And yet she still searched, searched with all her heart and all her might, praying that she would see anything, something, that would give her hope.

Hope for when her father was…dead.