Free A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle by Catherine Gayle Page B

her impending death. Never in her life had she felt
such sheer, utter mortification as she did when Lord Quinton had
walked away from her last night, leaving her alone on the ballroom
floor with the entire world reveling in her social
demise.
    Perhaps the entire world was a bit of an
exaggeration. Still, Aurora noticed: their slack jaws; their bold
stares, followed by a deliberate turning of their backs; the
matrons shooing their daughters away from her presence; the sudden
lack of gentlemen hoping to place their names upon her dance card;
the forced, heavy silence gradually being overwhelmed by a
calamitous medley of whispers, most all of them containing her
name.
    The look of bewildered defeat upon
Father’s face.
    The derision and disgust in Aunt
Sedgewick’s voice as she ushered Aurora from Eversley
Hall.
    More hurtful than all the rest
combined—the pity in Rebecca’s brief and gentle grasping of her
hand as they parted.
    The blankets were ripped back with
fervor, and she was blinded by the sun just starting to rise
outside her window. Sure enough, Rebecca held the untidy remnants
of Aurora’s warm bed, not Rose.
    Rebecca frowned down at Aurora from
her exalted position as the angel of death, with the rays of the
sun lighting her frame. “I sincerely doubt there will be any
funeral today, and if there is I suspect it might be for Lord
Quinton and not for you, so do please cease your
moping.”
    Aurora rolled over and buried her eyes
in her pillow. “Go away. It is ungodly early in the morning. Why
are you here? I don’t want your pity.”
    “ You’re doing a poor job of
showing that.” Rebecca took a seat on the edge of the bed. “But
you’ll get none of it, whether you want it or not.”
    “ Humph.” Aurora rolled over
again to show her scowl to its fullest effect. “Some dearest and most especial friend you are
proving yourself to be. Abandoning me in my darkest
hour?”
    “ I’m hardly abandoning you.
If you hadn’t noticed, I’m here. At sunrise. Good gracious, this is
early. How is that an act of abandonment?” Rebecca pulled on
Aurora’s hands until she reached a sitting position. “There is much
to discuss.”
    “ Such as?” Aurora drawled.
She hardly cared. What did anything matter, now that she was
condemned to death? Or at least to a life alone. Regardless of how
much she abhorred the idea of a loveless marriage, in truth, the
thought of loneliness terrified her far more. She couldn’t bear to
end up like her mother.
    Proving herself a true friend, despite
Aurora’s complaints to the contrary, Rebecca ignored the pathetic
tone of her question. “Such as the possibility of Lord Quinton
calling upon you today.”
    “ I don’t care to see him.”
The lie even rang hollow to Aurora’s ears. She’d lost her
touch.
    It had to be his fault.
    “ Well, if he has even the
smallest pinch of decency in him, he’ll be here this afternoon to
offer for you.”
    “ Father will call him out.
Quinton will be dead before he can make a declaration of his
intentions.” At least, she thought Father would. Blast, what if he
didn’t?
    Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Your
father will not kill Lord Quinton. The man is your only chance at
retaining any shred of respectability.”
    She hated it when Rebecca was
right.
    “ He won’t come. You saw him
last night. He just kissed me and left. Besides, he was as drunk as
a wheelbarrow. He probably doesn’t remember any of it.” If he
remembered it even half as vividly as Aurora did, she wondered that
he had not burst into flames from the intensity. She closed her
eyes and tried to push the memory down. It would not do to think of
such things. Not now. Not when everything was falling apart. “No,
he’ll stay far away. I expect I’ll never see him again. The
scoundrel.”
    The perfectly delicious scoundrel who
had stolen her heart. And, clearly, her wits.
    A wry smile lit Rebecca’s features. “I
expect he’ll be here not long after luncheon. And I