Page 2 of Aurelia

“You know I mean more than that. If you would just—”

“I am not a nursemaid, Arthur. I engage a governess and pay her a bloody fortune to live on this island and keep my daughter occupied. And what does Celsa do but torment and persecute the woman.”

“Without her mother, the only parent Celsa has is you.”

“She has you. You are more a father to her than I’ve ever been.”

Arthur’s flush stained his cheeks, and he said stiffly, “I hope you don’t think I try to usurp your—”

“Don’t be a fool. I am grateful for what you do with her—for everything you do.”

Arthur looked away, visibly embarrassed. “Oh, nonsense. Without you, I’d have nothing.”

Roland waved away the other man’s protest, which was one he’d heard many times in the past and was just as untrue now as it had always been. “I will hear no more of that from you.”

Arthur tried to protest, but Roland silenced him with a glare.

“So, you want me to do something with the brat? What? She has no interest in the natural world, no desire to apply herself to any subject—art, literature, or science—and she has alienated every other child her age on the island with her willful, often malicious, behavior.”

Arthur looked pained. “She misbehaves because it is the only way she can gain your attention. There is one area in which she shines, and that is anything to do with horses.”

“She is an excellent equestrienne,” Roland admitted.

“Perhaps you could take her with you when you visit your tenants? It would be good for her to start taking up such duties. Especially since she is probably going to inherit them,” he added in a much quieter voice.

Arthur was probably right about that; Roland had no intention of marrying and producing any more children, which meant that Celsa would be mistress of everything once he died.

“I will think about it,” Roland said, finished with the subject. “Now that you are here, I wanted to talk to you about another matter.”

“Oh?”

“It is about Sadie Roy and her daughter, Dora.”

Arthur’s angelic features hardened. “What about them?”

“I understand that you told Sadie she would need to leave her cottage if her daughter refused to marry before her child is born.”

“She came running to you, did she?”

“No, Arthur, she did not come running to me.”

“Then who told—oh, I know.” He gave Roland a look of disdain and mild revulsion. “It was Mary Neel, wasn’t it? I saw you ride out late last night. You went to her again.”

The fact that Roland felt a stab of guilt—albeit very mild—at his cousin’s glare was a testament to the other man’s ability.

“Have you been spying on me, Arthur?”

“I most certainly have not.”

Roland suspected his virtuous cousin was telling a fib. Arthur’s chambers did not look out in the direction of the stables, so he would have needed to make an effort to see Roland leave the castle.

Rather than point that out, Roland said, “Yes, I saw Mary last night. What of it?”

“You must know that everyone on the island is aware that she is your—your—”

“Occasional bed partner?” Roland suggested when Arthur seemed to have frozen.

“I was going to say whore.”