"Can't it wait until after supper?" she asked, already knowing the answer. If Lord Winters was already here, the meeting had to proceed as planned.
"Just come to the study, please?"
With an exaggerated sigh, Aurora complied. She followed Father into the study and let the door fall shut at her rear, before turning to the room at large.
Lord Winters had taken his usual spot by the window. Strange, that she already considered ithis,because she had only seen him sit there a handful of times since they met. Perhaps he had sat there before, when Father mentored him, and she didn't even know that he existed.
A stutter of anger rose in her chest, sudden and powerful enough to physically knock her back. She huffed, a hand slapped across her mouth, and tried to shove down the burst of angry warmth.
Neither Lord Winters nor Father noticed, thank goodness, and so Aurora allowed herself to sit. She chose the seat furthest from Lord Winters, at the corner of Father's desk.
Father sent her a curious gaze as he sat across from her, but didn't comment on the odd behavior.
Still, Aurora couldn't ignore that strange flash of anger, even once it had mellowed out to no more than mild discomfort. Was she jealous, that Father had been teaching Lord Winters in secret? Did she dislike that he had been in her house, without her knowledge?
Yes, but it went deeper than that; because if they had met each other when she was younger, perhaps they would have gotten along much more.
It was difficult to pretend as if Father hadn't taken something from her, by teaching Lord Winters in secret all those years ago. He had kept it hidden for too long to quite be comfortable.
"Is everything all right, dear?"
Father's voice drew the attention right to her, and Aurora felt her cheeks warm as both he and Lord Winters looked at her curiously.
"I'm fine," she replied stiffly, trying to ignore how Lord Winters watched her with those wide brown eyes. "Father, why don't you tell me why we're here?"
It was more snappish than intended, but it wasn't Father's fault. Not really. It was Lord Winter's presence that Aurora had taken issue with, sitting by the window, as comfortable as if this were his own home.
Father smiled knowingly, but was kind enough not to say anything on the matter. Instead, he folded his hands on the desk and announced, "Elmore has news about your project. Don't you?"
From his space by the window seat, Elmore grinned. It was a disarming sort of smile that made Aurora's heart skip. It took her a second to realize that she was smiling back.
"I wrote to the Duke of Stonehull regarding this project of ours." A pause. "Well, I know it's mostly Aurora's, but we're all involved, I think."
Shifting in her seat, Aurora shook her head. He was trying to flatter her again, correcting himself and smiling so charmingly. She could admit that he wasn't as terrible and rude as she had first assumed, but why did he care so much?
Because he wants to claim your work as his own,a little voice in her head chided,and if you let him too close, he'll succeed.
Except, despite being a little arrogant, Lord Winters wasn't horrible. He didn't seem the sort to steal, especially considering that he had so much knowledge of his own. Christopher had stolen from her because he had never thought an original concept in his life; Lord Winters at least had something to contribute.
"...contacts in Italy say he will have it ready soon."
Aurora blinked back to attention; cheeks flushed when she realized the conversation had continued without her. Yet she didn't want to admit that she'd missed it all, so she sat back and hoped that she could pick up the pieces of conversation.
Father was grinning, so something good had happened. For the first time in weeks, he had actually taken the day off — he would regret it tomorrow no doubt, but in the moment he looked happy.
"Mr. Russo says that he has roots of angel's trumpet to share with us, ready to leave Italy as soon as possible."
Lord Winters, Aurora noticed for the first time, spoke with his hands; whether they were waving in front of him or batting at thin air, they were always in motion. He didn't move with sweeping arcs in the obnoxious way that Mr. Buckley did; this was more subtle. Gentle, almost, as if trying to minimize how obvious it was.
It was oddly kind of sweet.
"Now," he continued, "just because we have the samples, doesn't mean we're ready. I've had a reply from His Grace, and he wants us to have a conference. Something like this coming from overseas, intohisregion, will be of great interest to His Grace."
Ah, Aurora understood now. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of a conference, knowing that it would involve presentations and discussion...all to decide whether this was allowed to continue or not. What if the Duke decided against this? The thought made her stomach turn.
It's fine,she told herself calmly,just breathe.
The slow breaths helped, and Aurora managed to ask, "what will we need to prepare?"