Aubrey 42

 Chapter 42

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Khaled didn't say anything, just opened the door and let her out. Aubrey headed outside again, meeting up with Nicholas, who had come looking for her. Now all that remained was to wait for Khaled’s answer. 

When she stepped out onto the deck, there were even more people than before. They'd been dancing in the sweltering interior for hours, their faces as flushed as Nicholas's. They cooled off by looking out at the ocean.

Aubrey and Nicholas walked past them and headed for the sunroof, where the highlight of the party, the dance was taking place there. Nowhere to be seen were Murfrio and Jeffrik, who had been looking for her so badly.

"Apparently, Jessica is not a good dancer. She was like a wooden doll."

Nicholas shook his head at his sister's terrible dance skills as he recounted the events of the ball.

"Then Miss Aubrey."

Blending in among the paired men and women, Nicholas extended his hand to Aubrey. The gesture and the smile were so natural. As if the two of them were meant to dance together.

"I'm sorry, Master. I don't think I'll be able to dance tonight."

"Why?"

Aubrey smiled as she opened her shawl.

"Because my leg hurts and I think I might make a mistake, like stepping on your foot."

She sidestepped the situation like a duck to water. Nicholas looked quite disappointed, but he didn't ask twice, as was the gentlemanly thing to do.

"Then we’ll just talk."

"What are you doing here?"

Just then, Jessica Atherton walked up and poked his brother in the side.

"What's the point of chatting when we’re so short on partners? You need to be a gentleman."

"Jessica, wait!"

With that, Jessica shoved her brother on the back. There really weren't enough men at this party, and the ladies who couldn't dance stood back as if neglected. Jessica turned to see her brother asking an awkwardly standing lady to dance.

"I haven't seen you in a long time, Miss Sandalwood."

"Yes. It's been a long time."

Jessica was well dressed. Perhaps it was the pale yellow dress with the light blonde hair that resembled her brother's.

"Come here if you're not going to dance."

Jessica casually pulled her toward the gathering of people, and there they were, her social circle, including Emily.

"Oh, sister."

Emily forced a smile, conscious of the stares she was receiving. The others had similar expressions.

"I'm going to go see my aunt. Have fun talking."

Aubrey turned to walk away, feeling that this was not the place for her, but Emily grabbed her arm.

"No. I was just talking about you, anyway."

"......about me?"

"Yes, about you."

She gave her arm a little tug. Aubrey, who had finally taken her place among the group, was met with a barrage of questions.

"I heard you were in Finswade, and that there was a terrible plague there. Is Miss Sandalwood all right?"

"Does Camshire still smell fishy in the alleys? I went there with my parents when I was very young, and I didn't dare wander around."

The corners of Aubrey's mouth began to quiver as the fake past she'd made up began to spill out of the ladies' mouths.

"I heard you were chased by some mean girls, and then you got over a mountain. That's pretty amazing for such a young kid."

"How scary that must have been."

"Well, I guess Miss Sandalwood was destined to come to the Earl's estate, seeing as how the stable keeper found her out for a walk."

Aubrey glanced back at Nicolas, who was still dancing, and then back at Jessica Atherton. As if she understood the meaning of the gaze, Jessica shrugged.

"My brother told me that Miss Sandalwood was a very brave woman, who had many adventures."

She had dug her own grave. Her eyes narrowed.

"I was so impressed by the story, I told her....... Miss Sandalwood, you don't look very happy. Is it an uncomfortable story for you?"

"Of course not. You don't dwell on the past, do you, Sister?"

Emily was friendlier than usual.

"I didn't really like it either, but after Jessica told me about you, I'm glad she did."

Aubrey hoped it would be like this, that pity or compassion would be nice, and that the fake past would stop being brought up. But reality, as usual, didn't cooperate.

"Which is odd, because my mother says the mountains around Camshire are too steep and dangerous for humans to climb."

Jenny Delove, intrigued by the situation, questioned.

"Did you really climb those dangerous mountains bareback?"

Aubrey's heart was already pounding so hard she could barely breathe. The mountains around Camshire were dangerous, she was right, but not for her. The mountains of Crysis Island were mostly untouched, slippery rocks and sharply broken tree roots. 

She'd scaled them like a squirrel, gathering herbs and splitting wood. The mountains of Camshire were no match for her obstacle course. Aubrey looked cautiously into Jenny Delove's eyes. Hoping it was curiosity and not suspicion, Aubrey cleared her throat.

"Yes. I thought I had to live, and somehow it worked, though it's a blur now."

At the barely spit out answer, Jenny Delove nodded vigorously. Aubrey wiped her already sweaty palms roughly on her dress.

"Geez. Why are you sweating like this?"

Just then, Emily reached out, her face full of concern. Aubrey, dazed, barely smiled and dabbed at the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand.

"It must be the heat."

"Then why are you wearing this shawl?"

There was no time to prepare. Emily lightly snatched the shawl from Aubrey's grasp. Unaware, the brush slipped from her grasp like water. The coolness of her sweaty back was short-lived, and Aubrey quickly pressed her back against the railing.

"What are you doing?"

Aubrey gritted her teeth.

Emily looked at her strangely, as if she were about to jump into the ocean at any moment.

"Miss Sandalwood, it's dangerous, come down here."

Jessica Atherton panicked and held out her hand.

"Oh, no. I'm hot. I'm doing this. It's cool. So......."

Now her lower jaw was really starting to shake. Aubrey had her back to the ocean, her sweaty hands clutching the railing. Emily glanced at the silk shawl in her hand, then back at Aubrey. She hadn't taken it from her out of malice, but she was very suspicious.

"Come down."

Emily said, her voice firm and commanding.

"Come down?"

Oh, God, what am I going to do? The sea breeze cooled her sweaty back. Aubrey glanced back, mesmerized. Better to jump in. The moment the endless expanse of black water caught her eye, she felt compelled to do so. 

The ocean, so beautiful to others, would be nothing more than a means of life and death to her, as it always had been. Then the slow music stopped and she heard Murfrio's voice. She glanced up to see Murfrio and Jeffrik had returned.

"Please, don't come all the way out here and make a scene."

Emily frowned and dropped her shawl. The ladies walked with her toward Murfrio. Aubrey watched them walk away, still fluttering. 

When she was sure they were far enough away, she bent low. With one hand gripping the railing, she stretched her other hand as far as it would go toward her shawl. Her fingers barely touched it, and a well-polished shoe crunched against the white shawl. Aubrey raised up and went rigid.

"Get up.”

"..."

The voice was colder than the sea breeze. In a moment, Khaled pried Aubrey's hand free of the railing, barely holding on, and helped her stand upright on the deck. Aubrey felt a heavy coat draped over her shoulders as she realized it was all over. She could finally look up and see the man. A white shirt pulled tight, a couple of buttons undone without a cravat, a strong jaw. And a cold stare at her.

"Did you think you could get away with that?"

He knew why she was carrying a tattered silk brush, and Aubrey stared blankly at it.

"Aubrey, what are you doing here...... Count of Lavonne?"

Barbara approached, her eyes widening at the sight of the two standing face to face. Khaled’s expression changed in an instant, and he flashed a dashing smile.

"I accidentally stepped on Miss Sandalwood's shawl, and I thought she might need something to wear, so I lent her mine......."

He trailed off, looking at Aubrey with fake warmth in his eyes.

"I apologize, my lady. Forgive me."

Barbara smiled approvingly, as if she understood the situation, and patted him on the back.

"That is very thoughtful of you, Count Lavonne, and I thank you. May I be excused?"

Khaled bowed slightly and stepped away. Aubrey walked away, her back to him, soulless. His large coat draped over her. With each movement, his distinctive scent wafted past her nostrils. It was a cool, fresh scent, and she could clearly picture the man's booted feet trampling the shawl.

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Aubrey had to cling to Murfrio for a long time, as if to make up for her absence. He talked to her nonstop, his eyes roaming over her face and slender neck at every opportunity.

Eventually the sky brightened a little. They were waiting for sunrise. Aubrey stood at the back of the crowd of clouds. The horizon was stained red, a burning red. From there, the jet-black sky began to smear with new colors, like a peeling skin. It was such a fantastic sight that her mind was momentarily cleared. Exclamations of delight came from all directions.

Aubrey scanned the crowd on deck. The man, Khaled Karnus, was nowhere to be found. The man who had trampled on her shawl and handed her his coat. Aubrey wordlessly bunched up the silk shawl, stained with grime. She felt pathetic for wanting to take advantage of him for a moment. He was the kind of man he was. What was she thinking?

Sighing, Aubrey stabbed her hands into the coat pockets. There was something in the pocket, neat and tidy without the slightest crumb. Aubrey felt it out. A small rectangular shape, something hard, almost like a card. Green eyes quickly scanned the surroundings. Realizing that no one was interested in her, she quickly reached into the pocket and pulled out what she had.

A pristine white business card with his initials emblazoned in gold foil. Khaled Karnus, Count of Lavonne. As if those few words were enough to describe him. Aubrey looked at the crisp, unwrinkled card, wondering why he would carry something like this around so casually, though it was a habit of his.

Without thinking, Aubrey flipped it over and quickly stuffed it back into his pocket. On the back of the business card was his answer. His sharp, manly handwriting smudged against the blazing sun.

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