Aurelian understood the role well enough now.
A chaperone accompanied an unmarried noble through social engagements, helped manage introductions, observed conversations, and prevented breaches of etiquette.
Or, in his particular case, attempted to limit them.
His gaze moved immediately to Echo.
Lady Lockwood followed it.
“You have done admirably, Lady Echo,” she said.
“Far better than anyone could have expected, considering what you were given.”
Aurelian frowned.
“I am sitting directly in front of you.”
“I am aware.”
Echo hid a smile behind her cup.
Lady Lockwood continued without the slightest sign of remorse.
“But you are also an unmarried young woman with invitations and obligations of your own.
You cannot spend the entire season following Baron Bellafonte from one gathering to another.”
“I have not caused a scandal,” Aurelian protested.
“Not yet,” Echo and Lady Lockwood said together.
Aurelian looked between them.
Carina lowered her eyes to hide what appeared suspiciously like amusement.
Only moments earlier, he had been worrying about the same thing.
That did not make hearing it aloud easier.
“Have I become too troublesome?” he asked.
Echo’s expression changed immediately.
“What?”
“If you no longer wish to guide me, I understand.” Aurelian glanced toward the correspondence beside her.
“I should have noticed sooner how much of your own season you were sacrificing.”
“Aurelian—”
“I should have.”
“You should have,” Echo agreed.
His gaze dropped.
For several uncomfortable seconds, he studied the pattern woven into the rug beneath his boots.
“But that does not mean I am leaving.”
He looked up again.
Echo set down her teacup and turned toward him fully, the exhaustion still in her face but her expression suddenly serious.
“I am not being dismissed, and I am not tired of you.
I will still visit.
I will still attend events with you when I wish.
And I fully intend to interfere whenever you appear ready to make a terrible decision.”
“That seems likely to happen often,” Carina said.
“Exactly.”
Aurelian considered her.
“Then why change anything?”
Echo glanced down at her hands.
For once, she did not immediately answer with a joke.
“Because I would like to attend the season as myself.”
The sincerity in her voice stilled him.
“I want people to see Lady Echo Sinclair when I enter a room,” she continued.
“Not merely the woman assigned to prevent Baron Bellafonte from wandering into hedges or accidentally proposing to duchesses.”
“I did not propose.”
“No.
Apparently you prefer agricultural invitations.”
Aurelian gave her a wounded look.
Echo’s expression softened.
“I chose to help you.
I do not regret it.
But somewhere along the way, I stopped making room for my own life.”
The words settled differently than her usual teasing did.
Aurelian looked toward the small stack of correspondence she had brought with her.
One envelope near the bottom was dated nearly a week earlier.
He remembered the countless times she had rushed from one engagement to another because he required advice.
The afternoons she had spent reviewing invitations with him.
The hours devoted to explaining rules he forgot almost as quickly as she taught them.
Guilt pinched at him.
Echo apparently recognized the expression immediately.
She reached across and struck his arm lightly with the back of her hand.
“Do not look like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like a wounded spaniel.”
“I do not resemble a spaniel.”
“You do whenever you think you have disappointed someone.”
Aurelian looked to his mother for support.
Carina suddenly became very interested in a pastry.
“Mother.”
“It is very good,” she said.
Echo leaned closer.
“I am not abandoning you.”
Aurelian remained quiet for a moment.
He knew that.
Or rather, he was trying to know it.
Their friendship had become one of the few things in the capital that no longer made him feel as though he were stepping onto uncertain ground.
“Will you still correct me?”
“With great enthusiasm.”
His shoulders relaxed.
“Good.”
Lady Lockwood cleared her throat.
“Now that we have avoided an unnecessary farewell, perhaps we can address the actual problem.”
“It was hardly a farewell,” Echo said.
“It had the emotional weight of one.”
Aurelian’s face warmed.
Echo looked suspiciously pleased.
Lady Lockwood turned toward his desk.
Her expression changed.
“Are those all the invitations?”
Aurelian followed her gaze.
A small mountain of envelopes occupied nearly a third of the desk.
“Those are the ones from this morning.”
She stared at him.
“There are more?”
Vincente appeared in the doorway with impeccable timing.
“Two additional trays in the receiving room, my lady.”
Silence settled over the study.
Lady Lockwood closed her eyes briefly.
“Bring them.”
“Yes, my lady.”
As Vincente disappeared, Lady Lockwood rose and crossed to the desk.
She picked up the nearest envelope.
“Countess D’Aubrey.
Have you answered?”
“No.”
“When did it arrive?”
Aurelian considered.
“Three days ago.”
Lady Lockwood turned slowly toward Echo.
“Is this how you taught him to manage correspondence?”
“I taught him to open the letters.
Progress had to begin somewhere.”
Lady Lockwood placed the invitation on the desk with alarming precision.
“Baron Bellafonte, invitations require answers.”
“I know.”
“Then why has Countess D’Aubrey waited three days?”
“I do not know who she is.”
“That,” Lady Lockwood said, “is why I am here.”
Vincente returned carrying two silver trays covered in envelopes.
The trays were nearly overflowing.
One particularly elaborate invitation threatened to slide from the top until Vincente corrected it with a practiced tilt of his wrist.
Lady Lockwood stared at them.
“Good heavens.”
“I said something similar.”
“And yet you allowed them to accumulate.”
“I thought they might eventually stop.”
Her expression suggested he had proposed waiting for the sun to forget to rise.
“They will not stop.
Not after the Primrose gathering.”
Aurelian glanced at Echo.
“What exactly happened there?”
“You defended a child, charmed a room of influential women, and recited romantic poetry,” Echo said.
“Did you believe no one would discuss it?”
“I had hoped they might forget.”
“They have done the opposite,” Carina said.