Page 60 of Aurelia

“Good afternoon, my lady, Miss Burton,” she said, wearing the knowing smirk that she always seemed to sport. For all Aurelia knew, it was the woman’s natural expression, but she didn’t think so. She thought it was a little bit of mockery that she saved just for Aurelia. Or perhaps Celsa.

“Good morning, Mrs. Neel,” Aurelia said when it was clear that Celsa had no intention of speaking to the woman.

“The master returns today, aye? Ye’ll be happy to have him home, won’t you?”

Aurelia wasn’t sure who the question was for given that Mrs. Neel’s eyes bounced between both Aurelia and Celsa.

“How nice of you to tell us about my father’s return,” Celsa retorted, giving the woman a look of such loathing that most people would have slunk away at that point.

But Mrs. Neel, who was made of sterner stuff, merely laughed.

Celsa spurred her horse into a canter.

“It was nice to see you, Mrs. Neel. I’d better be off,” Aurelia said, before allowing Black Prince his head.

Not until they were a few minutes outside the village did Celsa slow her mount.

“Why are you in such a wretched mood today?” Aurelia asked.

“I’m not in a wretched mood,” Celsa snarled.

Aurelia laughed. “Clearly.”

Celsa opened her mouth—as if to argue—and then gave a slight, miserly laugh. “Very well, perhaps I am a bit out of sorts. But I do wish that Mrs. Neel would leave me be. She is always fluttering about and saying things about how nice I look when I know she is laughing at me.”

“How do you know that?” Aurelia asked, although she, too, had frequently felt the voluptuous beauty enjoyed herself at Aurelia’s expense whenever they encountered each other.

“I know because I know,” Celsa said, exasperated.

“Oh, I see. Because you know,” she said, hoping to tease the younger woman out of her vile mood.

Instead, Celsa’s head whipped around and she skewered Aurelia with furious eyes. “I know because she is my father’s mistress—or one of them—and wishes to curry favor with me for some reason, and so she flatters me. As if I have influence with him and can convince him to abandon all his principles and sense and wed a common barmaid.”

Aurelia knew Celsa expected a shocked, chiding response, but she refused to provide it.

“Well?” Celsa taunted. “Are you going to pretend that you don’t know about his evening visits to her? That everyone doesn’t know that?”

“Gossiping is a pernicious habit.”

Celsa gave a derisive laugh, which Aurelia had to admit she deserved. “Oh, Miss Burton! I have seen your eyes glisten when you’ve heard a particularly interesting tidbit of information, but you adopt your governess veneer when it suits you. I must say it is a relief to know you are not nearly as virtuous as you pretend.”

Aurelia changed the subject. “Do you know what time your father’s boat is meant to arrive?”

“Why do you care when he’s returning? Are you planning to be there to welcome him home?”

Aurelia gave an exasperated huff. “If you are going to be unpleasant then we should—”

“Oh, I know! If I don’t agree with everything you say then I should just go back. Well, I don’t see why my pleasure should be truncated because I don’t agree with you.” She wheeled Helios around and thundered back the way they’d just come.

Aurelia paused, considering whether she should go after her. After all, Celsa was not supposed to be riding unless they were together. While Aurelia wouldn’t say anything to the earl, she knew Miss Hatchet lived to tattle.

Aurelia decided that the irritation of seeing Mary Neel again wasn’t worth saving Celsa’s ungrateful hide.

Instead, she continued on her way, putting the girl and her tantrums out of her mind.

Aurelia crested the rise that looked over the tiny bay and immediately spotted a far larger boat than the usual skiffs pulled alongside the pier.

And standing on the dock directing the unloading—tall and elegant and clad all in black—was none other than the Laird of Crewe.