"Not that I'm aware of I'm afraid."
"Oh. Well, no matter. You may go, and thank you for the tea."
The maid left, and the door clicked closed on her retreat. That left Elmore alone to finish his last letter, addressed to Mr. Whitmore in Italy. He had moved there as a young man to marry his Italian wife, and Elmore hoped that he might have cuttings he was willing to send their way.
Once that was finished, it joined the pile. Then, wrist aching from writing, Elmore retreated to the fire to drink his tea.
He took a sip, but it was hot enough to scald and he quickly set the cup down again. It clinked in the saucer when he let go.
He had seen Aurora drink tea all of once during his visit. It had an odd color, and she drank it without milk. It had reminded him of bergamot, that bitter scent that made his eyes water in disgust. While he had never tried it himself — had taken a sniff once and balked, in fact — he knew it to have soothing properties.
What did it aid in? Colds, headaches, and...coughs.
Aurora didn't look ill. She had beautiful, shiny curls that spilled across her shoulders, and a healthy glow to her fair skin. He had noticed freckles from the sun splashed across her nose, and her cheeks were often tinged pink too. She was beautiful, truly, and he wondered how she could be sick if she looked so perfect.
Of course, he had admired her from the beginning. Those big doe-eyes were impossible to ignore, and she spoke with such confidence that it was truly admirable.
Few women in his life had such an attitude. His mother had, before she passed, always spoken with the aura of a woman who knew how to handle herself. Aurora was the same, except perhaps colder towards him than Mother had ever been.
It brought a smile to Elmore's lips, as he took another careful sip of tea. It was drinkable now, sweetened with a touch of sugar and a good helping of fresh milk. To accompany it, he lifted a rolled wafer and took a bite. Perfectly crisp, made this morning.
Did Aurora like wafers too? She didn't appear to have much of a sweet tooth, except for adding the tiniest amount of sugar to her tea. If she drank bergamot, then he couldn't blame her for wanting to adjust the taste. Even the smell was enough to turn his stomach.
He could imagine her easily, sitting across from him at the table, drinking tea and enjoying something tasty. She would have been good company in this too-quiet house, brightening the mood with her talk of the angel's trumpet. Her cheeks would stain pink as she spoke, getting more excited by the minute.
She had a fitting name, Elmore mused. Aurora was perfect for such a beautiful woman; she must have inspired her parents the moment she was born, to deserve such a lovely name.
It was difficult to stay focused when thoughts of Aurora kept clouding his mind. He had tasks at hand, dinners to attend now that he was home, but all he could think of washer.The rest of his tasks all faded into the distance in favor of what he had to do to make her happy.
Perhaps, if this project went off without a hitch, Aurora would learn to like him. She was so lovely, and far more intelligent than he realized...was it wrong to want her approval?
It made his heart ache to know that Aurora didn't enjoy his company; especially when he had come to love hers so much. He wondered, sometimes, if he had done something wrong to earn her dislike; some slip of the tongue that he hadn't noticed, or an offhand comment that had offended. Worse, had he done something huge and simply not noticed. Some awful blunder that couldn't be forgiven?
Elmore shook his head in an attempt to chase away those thoughts. They helped nobody, especially nothim.Mostly, he just wanted to know how to fix this awkwardthingbetween himself and Aurora; but how could he do that, if she didn't even like to speak to him?
With a sigh, he drained his teacup and poured a fresh one from the pot. It was a small white pot with orange blossoms, one of his mother's favorite sets from years ago. It was only enough for two cups and so she hardly ever had the chance to use it. When Mother was alive, there were always guests.
That was enough sad thoughts for today, though. First Aurora, and now Mother? He could only handle so much. He decided quickly to find a distraction from his thoughts, turning to the enormous study window.
From here, almost the entire front garden was visible, all the way to the iron gate in the very distance. The long road leading to the house was lined with neatly trimmed mountain laurel, their pale pink flowers bright against the sea of green grass and leaves. Then to his left, a garden of wildflowers sprawled as far as he could see, disappearing around the side of the house.
The wild garden was the one thing in this house uniquely his. Father would have never allowed it, but Father wasn'there.
"Stop it," he chastised himself. Hadn't he upset himself enough for one day? There was no use in dwelling on the past, especially when there was so much else to do. He had to send those letters to Italy for instance, although he had hoped to hear back from the Duke first.
There was no harm in sending them ahead of time, he supposed. Perhaps it was foolishly hopeful, but he was already working it all out in his mind.Allow a month for replies, keeping a special eye out for Mr. Russo, the most hopeful option—
Another knock at the study door alerted Elmore to the presence of his maid. Jess, her name was.
"I'm sorry to intrude again, My Lord, but there's a letter for you."
His heart jolted, his features formed a smile. Was it a reply from the Duke?
"That's fantastic, Jess, thank you. Do you have it with you?"
With a nervous hand, she held it out to him.
"Perfect. Much appreciated, Jess. Would you please ask the other staff not to disturb me for a while? This is a very important letter."