The Scoundrel and the Debutante (The Cabot Sisters #3)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE END OF the young lovers’ flight to Gretna Green was a spectacular moment in Oxford. As many onlookers standing with mouths agape, Roan marched his sister to a coach bound in the opposite direction of Scotland and surrendered his horse to Mr. Villeroy so that he might lead his red-faced, verbally combative son home.

Aurora Matheson accompanied her brother without complaint.

The moment they were situated in the coach that would carry them back to London, Aurora turned her big brown eyes to Roan and said tearfully, “I’m so glad you came.”

Roan had been prepared to blister her with words, to upbraid her up one side and down the other for her foolishness, her recklessness, but her pitiful look and earnest words effectively collapsed his roaring anger. He sighed, took her hand in his. “What in hevean were you thinking, Aurora? You had to have known we’d not approve. And what of Mr. Gunderson? I thought you held some esteem for him!”

“I did! I do!” she said. “I don’t know why I said yes to Albert. I never truly believed he’d go through with it—he’s rather meek, really. But he kissed me and said, ‘let’s go,’ and I was lost, Roan. It was so romantic.”

“Romantic,” Roan scoffed. “You were going to marry a man because you found elopement romantic?”

She sighed. “It’s inexplicable, I know. But I believed I loved him.”

“You loved him?” he asked incredulously, forgetting, for a moment, that he had found love on a sunny afternoon in England. “Why didn’t you come home with Aunt Mary and Uncle Robert? You knew Gunderson was waiting. Surely you weren’t in love with Villeroy then!”

“No! I’m a fool, Roan,” she said, morosely. “Albert Villeroy speaks with such a flourish. He convinced me that there was much yet to see and do in England, and that he’d be traveling with his parents, and they’d be calling on friends at great estates, and I lost my head! I wrote to Mr. Gunderson, did Aunt Mary tell you? I explained to him I’d sail home by the end of summer.”

“But you didn’t tell him why, Aurora, and he is a clever young man, as you know.”

She sighed and looked down at her lap.

“I understand the desire to experience life before you marry,” he said. “But the Villeroy fellow doesn’t seem the type—”

“I know, I know,” she said. “But he was so earnest in his esteem, and in the past few weeks, I began to believe that I really did love him,” she said. “I don’t expect you to understand it, but I know what I felt, and I felt love for him. And yet, when I saw you, I was overcome with...relief. I realized I wouldn’t have to go through with it. I realized I could go home and I almost wept with joy.”

Roan thought of Prudence and wondered...had she been overcome with relief when she’d seen her family? Had she made her impassioned plea for his sake, as Aurora had done in Oxford for Villeroy? No, no, he would know if Prudence’s feelings were as frivolous as his sister’s feelings. He would know if she’d felt relief at seeing her family.

Aurora sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “I suppose I’ve ruined everything.”

“With Gunderson?” he asked, and shifted her so that he could put his arm around her. “Probably so.”

She sighed again. “Do you know the strangest thing? I miss him.”

“You have a questionable way of demonstrating that.”

“Oh, I know I’ve made a mess. I’m so ashamed.”

“Then why did you do it?” he asked helplessly, unable to understand how her head worked.

She sniffed, wiped her gloved fingers beneath her eyes. “Don’t scold me anymore. I know how awful I’ve been.”

“Very,” he agreed.

She whimpered. “At least I haven’t ruined everything,” she said petulantly.

“What do you mean?”

Aurora blinked up at him. “I mean that at least your engagement is still intact. You would never go back on your word, not like me. I’m awful, Roan! I realize now how irresponsible and unfeeling I’ve been. Father will never forgive me.”

Roan gave her a pat on her shoulder. “He’ll forgive you. He always does. Funny that he’s never been so quick to forgive me.”

“You! You’ve never done anything to displease him. And besides, you’re a man. Men can do whatever they please.”

“That is not entirely true,” he said. “I may have more freedom than you, but I still have a responsibility to our family.” He was painfully aware that Aurora was right; he always honored his word. What was a man without his word, really?