Aurora wished for excitement. To stage a little rebellion that no one else in society would discover. To follow her heart, not her head, and to hell with the consequences.
But she wanted to belong, too. To give her cousins no reason to regret their support. Rejection, even the idea of it, was a fear that was never far away.
Aurora strolled beside her cousin as they followed behind the duke and duchess, who were making the rounds. Discussing their plans for the season with those they met. Aurora kept silent, having none of her own to offer anyone.
The more she heard, the more aware she became that she could not rely on her cousins’ company for the rest of her life. That was probably why they urged her to marry and marry well—like they had. When she had moved in with them years ago, Aurora had, like them, been determined to make the best of whatever came her way. But she had done it without ever defining what she wanted for her own life. Now it seemed her only option was to make them proud with a respectable marriage.
But she could not do that for them. That would be reaching too far.
A small life, where she might do some good, interested her more.
Aurora had always resisted any ambition in her life, choosing to let fate surprise her time and again. Discovering now that she might want more for her life wasn’t a feeling she was used to. Or even liked. But something had to be done about her situation, and soon. She couldn’t keep following her cousins about like some stray animal they’d taken in.
She had tried her hand at being a companion to an older lady, and while she had enjoyed the experience, she did not want to be at anyone’s beck and call. She wanted her own home. Somewhere she might choose to stay, the fabrics on the furnishings, the best China on the table, the servants who waited on her, and depended on her too. The time she went to bed and rose hadn’t truly been her decision for nearly a year now.
Educating and tutoring bachelors and widows in improving their courtship techniques had not paid well enough to give three women all they’d needed, either.
Could she ever have her own home? A place that was just hers, where she could be happy again, away from all this nonsense.
She would rather remain in London, too, where she’d be near her cousins for at least half the year until they returned to their respective country estates. They were already living largely separate lives. But even a simple life in London would not come cheaply. She would likely have to work at something to create an income to support herself.
They reached an open space in the ballroom, and Aurora was urged to take a place near the Duke of Exeter to look over the crowd.
The crowd looked back, as usual.
Aurora’s skin crawled to be under such marked scrutiny all the time.
She edged a little farther away from her cousin and the duke, and immediately bumped into another guest. Aurora glanced up into Lord Scarsdale’s smiling eyes, and nearly groaned out loud.
“Don’t mind me, Miss Hillcrest,” he murmured.
“My apologies, my lord. I did not see you standing there,” she replied.
He laughed loudly. “My dear Miss Hillcrest, you wound me. I thought I loomed large enough not to be overlooked by you.”
“I’m sure you’re not overlooked by someone of greater importance,” she assured him, hoping no one heard him boasting again. Scarsdale was the last man she wanted to match wits with tonight, in her current mood. She had more important things to do than humoring his need for constant attention and praise. She was on the cusp of understanding what she really wanted for her life.
“But you are the most important guest of all,” he assured her with a teasing wink.
She groaned under her breath and did not rise to the bait.
He lowered his head closer and whispered, “Is everything all right? You seem… I don’t know. Distracted, and not in a good way.”
“I am the same as ever,” Aurora assured him. She snapped out her fan and beat it before her face like every other woman was, pretending the room was too hot for her. But behind its protective screen, she hid a sour expression. Scarsdale was the type of man to linger, even without any encouragement on her part.
“No. You are out of sorts and just don’t want to admit it to me,” he whispered back. “I’ve known you too long to mistake that expression in your eyes and assume you are content. Is my flattery lacking its usual flair tonight, or is your mood on account of someone in particular?”
“I don’t know what you could mean,” she replied, edging away from him, and hoping he’d take the hint to do the same.
He winced. “You are still cross with me, I think, for my pursuit last year. You cannot blame a man for making an effort to charm you. I was in the wrong then, and have only wished to see you smile since.”
“It is forgotten,” she promised the man. “But I hope your apology has nothing to do with Wharton letting it be known he offered to dower me this season?” Aurora murmured, meeting his gaze. “It was not so long ago that you thought me a foolish, gullible twit only fit to be seduced.”
She and Scarsdale were not exactly friends, because of his past behavior. But they were frequent companions at balls and dinner parties this season. If he had been honest, she might have liked him more. But she had first met him as a would-be client of the Hillcrest Academy, an enterprise her cousins had created to earn a living helping gentlemen prepare for a future courtship.
Scarsdale had been immediately taken on because a speech impediment afflicted him around women. But that had turned out to be an entirely made-up excuse for getting past their butler and to meet her in a more private setting.
For a time, she had felt hunted by him. However, someone must have had a severe word in his ear because he had begun uttering endless apologies for his behavior whenever they met.