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“Splendid. Now you can leave me and go your own way.” He looked down at her to find her bonnet on the way.
“I beg to differ. My duty as your husband is to accompany and protect you.”
“I’ve been doing fine in the last five years, wouldn’t you say?” She taunted him.
To which she got no reply for someone abruptly interrupted them.
“Conrad, my dear!” Mrs Somersby, the lawyer’s widow, extended her gauzy gloved hand coquettish to Conrad. “I heard you were back.” She smiled all too invitingly. Her ashen blond hair gathered up under her extravagant bonnet, which shadowed her pale, common blue eyes.
“Mrs Somersby.” He bowed, taking her hand without eagerness by the fingertips.
Conrad was not keen reacquainting himself with one of his old days’… relations.
“Aurelia,” he turned to his wife. “Please meet an acquaintance of mine, Mrs Somersby. Mrs Somersby, Lady Strafford, my wife.”
Both women tilted their heads, in a cold compliment. The widow turned to him at once, ignoring his Viscountess.
She measured him from brow to toe appreciatively. “India did you good.” She mumbled ill disguising her intentions.
“Time showed kindness to you as well, Mrs Somersby.” He complimented with icy politeness. In fact, he just wanted to walk away and continue bantering with his wife.
“So gallant of you, Conrad.” She placed her hand on his arm casually.
He bowed, so he could subtly move away from her. “We take our leave, Mrs Somersby. My wife is about to show me around the fair.”
“Naturally.” She looked disdainfully at Aurelia, which angered him quite intensely. “You should come for dinner one of these evenings.” Her greedy eyes focused on his lips, causing him aversion.
He smiled faintly. “I don’t think so. Have a nice day.” He tipped his hat and walked past her, without seeing her irritated expression.
Aurelia began to fume! Besides having to endure her husband’s intromission in her visit to the fair, she must tolerate this woman! She remembered the woman by name–and reputation. The last preceded her by miles. The widow of a wealthy lawyer for a long time, she did not have prejudices when it came to paramours. Married, single, old, young. Clearly, she also wanted to include her husband in her list. This infuriated her to sky-high levels.
From then on, the fair lost most of its enchantment to her. She entertained herself with the booths and new products, no doubt, but her mood changed. For the worse. She tried to forget the incident. The burning in her guts, though, proved impossible to overlook.
Conrad accompanied her during her whole visit, buying her things and stopping to talk with people who came to greet her. It advanced to late afternoon when they returned to the manor. He with his horse and she with the carriage. Alone inside it gave her a little breathing room to try to abate the burning in her chest.
Upon their arrival, a spring rain began to pour over the fields, rendering the horizon whitish with the sheets of water. The weather seemed to be following her turmoil.
Dinner finished, Aurelia sat in the drawing room to do some mending. On the table beside her a tea tray. Dinner with her husband had been a silent affair. She had not been able to abate her bubbling rage after all. She did not even glance at him for fear of losing control.
In the act of seeping her tea, he came into the room. Her fingers grasped the china so tightly it would splinter at any second. Hastily, she placed it on its saucer before she gave herself away.
He sat on the armchair next to hers, pouring himself another cup of tea. The candle lights illuminated the room in reddish glows, yielding a domestic atmosphere. They highlighted his tanned skin and made his hair blacker than black. His strong body sat back, and he seemed utterly concentrated on his tea. She lowered her gaze quickly, lest he noticed her appreciation of him, despite everything.
“Don’t your parents attend the fair anymore?” He inquired as a means of conversation.
Her rosewood eyes snapped up with the unexpected question. “They seldom leave the manor after my father broke his leg on a hunting party.” She struggled to keep her tone even.
Conrad arched his brow, curious. “I didn’t know it.” His dark eyes direct on her, which stirred her unavoidably.
“Yes. It happened last autumn.” Head bent, she focused on the mending. “He hasn’t recovered fully and feels a lot of pain.” She stabbed the needle in the cloth. “Which makes them stay home most of the time.”
“I am sorry to hear it.” He sympathised. “Maybe a doctor from London would help?”
She lifted her head again, to find him with a worried expression on his handsome face. It surprised her to see he cared.
The Baron and Baroness of Middleton did not abound in wealth. “I wish they could afford it.” She said candidly.
“If they cannot, we can.” He declared without hesitation. “I will write a letter to an acquaintance of mine from the East Indian Company first thing in the morrow.” He volunteered, surprising her further.
