Page 76 of Aurelia

“You should not be standing, Mama,” Guustin chided.

Only then did Aurelia notice the woman was leaning on a cane.

“Oh, tosh. I wanted to greet my guest on my feet.” She turned a charming smile on Aurelia. “I am delighted you’ve come to see me, Miss Burton.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Aurelia said, startled by the warmth in the other woman’s gaze. She was truly lovely and hardly looked any older than her son—except for her hands, which were terribly gnarled and twisted. Aurelia could not imagine how painful that must be.

Mrs. Walker looked lovingly up at her son and then heaved a sigh. “But you are right, darling. I should not be standing.”

Guustin clucked his tongue and took the cane from her. “Will you carry this for my disobedient mother, Aurelia?”

“Of course.”

He lifted up Mrs. Walker, holding her cradled in his arms. “Right this way, Aurelia.”

The house was charming, elegant, and spacious and not at all what she had expected from a former mistress, although why she believed the earl would stint the mother of his son she didn’t know.

“This is my gilded cage,” Mrs. Walker said as her son carried her into a room decorated in sage green and dusty rose. Once Guustin had set her down on a chaise lounge, she said, “Will you tell Una to bring tea in perhaps a quarter of an hour, Guustin? Also, two letters came for you and I put them on your desk.”

Guustin nodded and then turned to Aurelia. “I will leave you in my mother’s capable hands for a few moments, if you do not mind?”

“Not at all,” Aurelia said.

“Guustin is such a comfort to me,” Mrs. Walker said once the door closed behind her son.

“You must miss him when he is away.”

“I do. Intensely. But I am proud that he is making his way in the world. He works hard and is clever. One day he will be a wealthy, powerful man like his father.”

“I’m sure he will,” Aurelia said, distressingly aware that her face had heated at the other woman’s casual reference to her former lover.

Mrs. Walker smiled, her green eyes—so like her son’s—gently amused. “I daresay you are rather shocked at how freely I talk of my illegitimate child and his father.”

“I think it speaks well of you that you are not ashamed of his birth,” Aurelia said. “Too often mothers are shamed and ostracized while the fathers live without retribution. Or, more frequently, they take pride exhibiting proof of their virility.”

Mrs. Walker chuckled. “I had heard from both Guustin and Celsa that you were a very forthright young lady. And I must say I heartily approve.”

“Lady Celsa visits you?” Aurelia asked, surprised.

“She used to come almost every day but visits less often now that she has lost her riding privileges.” Mrs. Walker clucked her tongue. “Poor Celsa is a troubled, unhappy girl. It is odd how the earl’s illegitimate child is so much happier than his legitimate one. Roland despairs that she will ever grow out of her wildness and naughty tricks.”

Roland. The name evoked epic adventures and Charlemagne’s fierce, towering general, a man who had struck terror into his foes with his famed sword Durendal and his loyal steed Vigilance.

Yes, the name Roland suited the earl better than any other Aurelia could have chosen.

“I daresay you think he is too strict with Celsa,” Mrs. Walker said.

“He is rather harsh,” Aurelia admitted. “But then she does drive him to it.

“There was a time when Roland and Celsa got along well together, but something happened to cause a rift between them and I have never been able to find out what it was.”

That was interesting because it had been Aurelia’s impression that father and daughter had never been close. Had Celsa been the one to make her think that?

“When did that happen?” Aurelia asked.

Mrs. Walker pondered her question for a moment before saying, “It seems like Celsa must have been nine or perhaps ten.”

Not so long ago. What had happened?