She allowed herself a small smile, excitement flickering in her chest. "Thank you, Father. I like the idea too; I think that it could be really popular, as the museum has never had something like this before. Perhaps it could even become a regular thing; but oh, I don't want to get too ahead of myself."
Lord Winters cleared his throat, snapping Aurora's attention back to him. His expression was wary, as if nervous of speaking.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Well," Lord Winters replied, "if we would like to go ahead with this presentation idea, it would be sensible to invite some of your botanist friends, the ones at the meeting. They've heard some about our exotic plants before, and they showed great interest. Perhaps they would like to be donors?"
He was trying to impress her, but Aurora's stomach plummeted. If the gentlemen from the botanist's meeting were there, then Aurora would never have their interest. They had all listened rapt to Lord Winters, hooked onto his every word...and it would no doubt have to be him that presented it this time, too.
With a gentle sigh, Aurora leaned back into her seat. Suddenly, her apple tea didn't feel all that appealing, and her grip on the teacup loosened.
Father must have sensed her discomfort, because he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezed. It was a small action, familiar and comforting.
"As this is a project beloved by all three of us, all three should have a part in the presentation," Father said firmly, "perhaps we could each speak about a different topic or section of our project, while somebody else discusses the history of these plants."
Father's attempts to include them all didn't do much to raise Aurora's mood. She knew, as much as she hated to admit it, that Elmore was a necessary and central part to this project. Now, he was essential for their fundraiser too. Nobody was going to listen to her; she would end up speaking to an empty hall.
The thought had irritation bubbling deep in her stomach, but she stuffed it down with a sigh. She had some harsh words for Lord Winters, but for once it wasn't his fault.
"I will be...accepting, to have a smaller part in the discussion if it will sway the audience. After all, it is essential to keep people interested so that they will donate. However." She looked pointedly at Lord Winters here. "Please do give me recognition for my ideas where it's due. I'm still the project leader, after all."
After how the presentation with the Duke had gone, Aurora had little faith in Lord Winters' ability to defend her idea. He had already mis-represented it once, how was she to know that he wouldn't do so again? In a hall full of people, he would surely love the opportunity to impress their guests.
Father's botanist friends already knew that Lord Winters had knowledge in toxic plants. Whether intentional or not, it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that this was all his idea.
Aurora took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves. It didn't do much except for make her teacup shake, as she clutched it in her hands. So, she set the cup down on the table to avoid a spill.
"We should decide what to contain within our talk," Father suggested, still watching Aurora from the corner of his eyes. "It will need to be informative but concise, to avoid taking too long. We want to keep people's interest without rambling on and losing possible donors."
"Yet we still have to include all of the necessary information. Cut out too much, and nobody will know what we're asking of them," Aurora pointed out. Really, there was a lot of information in a project like this, but a lot of it was filler. Unnecessary.
"Please correct me if you think I'm wrong," Lord Winters said in an almost gentle tone, "but I feel as if we should first decide who wishes to present what. It would be more sensible to have one person lead the project, with the other two adding their own thoughts onto it. A lead speaker, to present the majority and act as the main voice to our guests."
Irritation rose within Aurora. Of course, he wanted to be the lead speaker; she already knew that it was true, but she didn't need to hear himsay it.
Nothing could ever be split equally, because Aurora was second-best no matter how much Elmore pretended to think otherwise.
A tickle started in the back of Aurora's throat and in a panic, she excused herself.
Chapter 21
Aurora Washam
Aurora darted from the room before anybody could ask if she was all right. In the cool hall, her face stung — bright red with embarrassment and hot to the touch. She wanted to scream her frustrations, to tell Lord Winters exactly what she thought of him.
The coughing started before Aurora could try to contain it; it sent her jolting forward, pain rising in her throat. Eyes squeezed shut, she could only hope to let it pass. It shook her entire body as Aurora doubled over in pain.
She was vaguely aware of Father whispering in the study, his voice almost drowned out by her wracking coughs. "I worry about her," he murmured to Lord Winters, "the coughing is less frequent these days, but so much stronger. Even the bergamot tea doesn't help like it used to."
Aurora scowled as she stumbled down the hall, blocking out Lord Winters' reply. Good, she didn't wish to heart it, anyway. She pressed a handkerchief to her lips as she walked, somehow finding herself at the end of the hall with no memory of walking there.
Bit by bit, her coughing subsided. It left her throat feeling raw and uncomfortable, but it was a sensation that she had grown used to over the years. It always faded within a few hours.
Now that her cough was reduced to only discomfort, Aurora could listen in again. Father and Lord Winters were still talking, but their voices were less hushed now that they thought Aurora was gone.
"It isn't your fault that Aurora is struggling with this," Father reassured Lord Winters. His voice was soft and fatherly, the same voice he used on Aurora when she was distressed. "She knows that we need your help to make this work, but it isn't easy for Aurora to accept. Give her time to come to terms with it, all right?"
Lord Winters' heavy sigh seemed to echo through the house, a tinny and disappointed sound. "I know that she isn't to blame for how she feels, but it's difficult. I only wanted her to understand that I wish tohelp.I have no sway on how other people think, or who they'd rather listen to."