Chapter 3
There was a certain kind of silence that settled in a house when a duke was expected. It was a silence so tense that even the floorboards dared not creak. A silence that was unfamiliar in their household, which was usually teeming with life.
Aurelia adjusted the ribbon on her skirt for what had to be the sixth time. Indeed, her papa had told her she would meet the mysterious duke before they got married, but she hadn’t expected it to be this prompt.
As she dressed, she paid attention to every sound from the floor below. Carriage wheels. Footsteps.
No sound of a beast just yet.
She turned away from the mirror just as her mother entered the room in a flurry of perfume and pearls.
“Don’t fidget, Aurelia,” Lady Scovell chided. “He’s not a ghost.” She stepped closer to smooth an invisible wrinkle from her daughter’s sleeve.
Aurelia offered a thin smile. “That depends on who you ask.”
Because she was certainly sure that Nora and Louis would not think the same.
Lady Scovell gave her a sharp look. “Not today, please.”
“No sarcasm, I promise,” Aurelia assured. “I’m perfectly calm. Couldn’t be calmer, actually. In fact, if I were any calmer, I would faint.”
Her mother took a deep breath and turned to the window. “He will be here any minute. And when he arrives, they will be in the drawing room.”
They. Meaning the duke and her father. Discussing her future over brandy like it was a land deal.
Aurelia clasped her hands together to hide the tremor in them. “Isn’t it strange that he has come in person?”
She had heard that the Duke of Whitmore dreaded moving in daytime. What exactly had changed his mind?
“I find it… impressive,” Lady Scovell confessed. Something in her voice suggested that even she had been taken aback. “A man like the Duke of Whitmore rarely bothers with courtesies. The fact that he’s come at all should tell you that he means business.”
“Business,” Aurelia echoed quietly.
It was not that she had dreamed of love. But neither had she imagined her marriage beginning with an estate-wide hush and a man who might or might not be dangerous.
Still, she lifted her chin and met her mother’s gaze. “I’ll be perfect.”
Lady Scovell’s features softened, just slightly. “Yes, darling. You will.”
It was finally time to go downstairs, and Aurelia felt anxiety swell in her chest, causing a bead of sweat to slowly roll down her back.
She stood at the top of the stairs, her heart drumming like it had lost its rhythm. Her eyes scanned the door leading to the drawing room. Any moment from now, Lord Scovell and the Duke of Whitmore would step out of it.
And they did, their backs turned to her as they continued their conversation.
There he was, the Duke of Whitmore.
“He is not… a beast.” Aurelia found herself echoing her mother’s words as she noticed the gentleman’s profile.
He was tall and had one hand clasped behind his back as he spoke to her father. Broad-shouldered, with the kind of presence that bent the room around him to his will without effort. He wore no extravagant cravat or gaudy rings. And still, he looked like he owned everything he saw.
Aurelia watched him nod once to her father. Then, he turned around, so suddenly that his blue gaze slammed into hers.
Aurelia’s breath caught like it had tripped over itself.
No.
The word replayed in her mind over and over again.
Something was utterly wrong.
Completely and utterly wrong.
She tightened her fingers around the railing, and her lips parted in a gasp.
It was him.
The man from the park.
The man she had insulted with great enthusiasm while chasing after her ungrateful cat. The man she had told off about his manners. The one who had called Sir Whiskerton a rat.
No. No, no, no.
She had offended her future husband before she even knew his name.
He did not flinch at the sight of her. Didn’t flinch at the horror written all over her face. Instead, his gaze remained unreadable, cold.
Because of the lack of surprise on his face, she could not even tell if he recognized her, or if he simply was not in the habit of caring.
“You…” Aurelia wanted to breathe out, but he looked away so fast. She wished the floor would open up beneath her and swallow her whole.
“Ah, Aurelia!” her father called cheerfully, oblivious to her dilemma. “Come. We were just discussing the details of the arrangement.”
The arrangement. Not even the engagement.
Nonetheless, Aurelia took a deep breath and forced herself to walk forward with the grace of a woman heading to her fiancé, and certainly not one trying to hide her embarrassment.
She nodded politely at the duke. “Your Grace,” she greeted softly.
She just needed to pretend that nothing had ever happened, and perhaps she would forget it in time.
The duke did not bow, but gave a shallow nod in return. “My lady,” he returned, his voice low and smooth.
Her heart skipped a beat at his voice. It reminded her of how they had spoken back at Hyde Park. But before she could fall deeper into that thought, she heard the rustling of silk against the floorboards.
“Why don’t we adjourn to the dining room?” her mother’s bright voice rang out.
Aurelia turned to her mother, just as Lord Scovell nodded with an affirmative clap. And somehow, she could feel the duke’s intense gaze on her.
Dinner was an uncomfortable affair—long, awkward, and overly quiet. Since Celia’s marriage, they had not had anyone over for dinner.
When Lord Scovell had cleared his throat more than once, his wife had sent warning glances that could have cut glass. Between them sat Louis, who kicked Nora under the table until she rolled her eyes at him.
Meanwhile, Aurelia spent most of the dinner trying to figure out if she was allowed to speak. Or rather, what she was supposed to speak about.
At last, when the maids came to clear away the soup, she chanced a smile in the duke’s direction. “I trust your journey was pleasant, Your Grace?”
He looked at her with those impossibly blue eyes. Calm. Icy. “No one died, if that’s what you mean.”
Nora choked on her wine while Louis, who had a usually dry sense of wit, winced at that.
“That’s… good.” Aurelia cleared her throat. “I have always believed that the best journeys are the safe ones.”
“Everyone does.” The duke shrugged faintly.
Across the table, Nora raised a brow at Louis, who mouthed, He’s not a beast.
It did not escape Aurelia’s notice. Usually, she would have shot them a quelling look, but she worried more about finding common ground with her husband-to-be.
She stole a glance at him. He didn’t even look like someone who wanted to talk. No elaboration or interrogation. He didn’t so much as blink.
His suffocating silence made her itch to bite the inside of her cheek. So she sat still, smiling faintly, while secretly praying for dinner to end.
When it did, Lord Scovell rose to make a vague comment about horses, and the twins followed after him. The duke stood up as well and nodded briefly to him before making his way to the front hall.
Almost immediately, Aurelia caught the look in her mother’s eyes. That one meant she should go to him.
She hesitated because it was challenging. She wasn’t sure if the duke would want that or not.
Regardless, she stood up and stepped forward.
“If it pleases Your Grace,” she began carefully. “May I escort you to the door?”
The duke paused before turning his head slightly toward her. “If you must.”
His response wasn’t exactly encouraging, but it was as close to permission as she would get.
She followed him through the corridor, her hands clasped in front of her. As they walked, silence fell between them. However, it wasn’t like dinner. This silence was… heavier and quieter.
As they moved under the moonlight, several questions popped into Aurelia’s mind. She wanted to ask if he remembered her. Also, she wanted to ask for his name. There must be something beneath, apart from his rank.
“I believe the evening was… passable.” She cleared her throat. “And the food was pleasant.”
“I did not come for the food,” the duke replied without looking at her.
She bit her lip and nodded. “Of course.”
Suddenly, he stopped moving. “I must tell you something before this arrangement proceeds any further.”
Aurelia paused. His tone had shifted slightly, his voice lower and slower. It was still cold, but now it was laced with something more grounded than his earlier formality.
A thousand guesses of what he was about to say flashed through her mind. Did he want to call off the wedding after meeting her in person because she didn’t look pleasant enough? Or perhaps he was reminded of her cat and still held a grudge against him?
“All right,” she muttered, bracing herself for the worst.
When he turned to face her fully, a soft gasp escaped her lips.
There was something poetically charming about him. Something that left her unable to comprehend what was driving the ludicrous rumors about him.
“I have a daughter,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion.
It felt more like a reminder than news to Aurelia.
“I know,” she responded calmly.
His expression didn’t change.
“She is ten. Her name is Charlotte. She has been under the care of a nanny since her mother died during childbirth. But I believe she needs more than that now. She needs a proper lady to guide her. One who understands society, expectations, and reputations. That is the reason I agreed to this match.”
His words were calm, so calm that they almost sounded rehearsed. As if he had practiced them just enough to be able to speak them without any sort of emotion.
Standing still under his unreadable gaze, Aurelia took a moment to process his words. Her lips were parted slightly, her mind caught somewhere between understanding and surprise.
Then, after what seemed like an eternity, she said slowly, “You wish me to be her mother.”
“I wish for her to be raised properly.”
“And marriage is the most convenient way to ensure that.”
“Yes.”
There was no shame in his tone. There was no tenderness either. All he offered was fact, nothing but plain truth. But beneath all of it, something swirled in Aurelia’s chest.
Something else was being left out, and the realization caused a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Her brown eyes rose to him, taking in the sharp angle of his jaw and his unreadable blue eyes that gave her so little and yet somehow… kept her looking.
“You must know that I’m not without experience,” she said at last, lifting her chin slightly. “I helped raise my younger siblings. I’ve changed more nappies than I care to count. I once spent three days trying to convince Louis not to swallow buttons.”
That earned her a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Once again, it was barely there, almost invisible.
“But…” she hesitated. “Is there nothing else you wish from a wife?”
His silence was not immediate this time. He looked at her properly now. In his eyes, she saw conflict, as though her question had knocked on a door that he did not want to open.
“I require very little,” he replied, eventually. “A lady with dignity, a wife with discretion.”
Aurelia paused. There was no hint of joy or affection in his words. Just service. Just duty.
“Of course.” She nodded once, trying her best not to look disappointed.
She remained silent for a while, and it seemed he took that to mean the conversation was over because he turned to walk away.
But she wasn’t done.
Without a second thought, she grabbed the hem of his coat with her fingers.
She wasn’t sure what had given her such courage, but her fingers were on him. She didn’t pull; she simply touched him enough to make him stop.
When he turned back and his gaze settled on her hand, she immediately dropped it like it had betrayed her.
He didn’t speak, and neither did she.
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Aurelia wanted to look away, but she could hardly do so. She was the one who made him stop, and he was standing, waiting for what she had to say.
But somehow, the space between them, so fragile and tense, made it difficult to speak properly.
When her voice finally came out, it was a lot quieter. “Your Grace… you mentioned having a daughter. But you didn’t mention anything about… heirs.”
There, she had said it, and she immediately looked away.
However, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him go still. Painfully still. The silence became even heavier, as though it had been covered by fog.
Suddenly, he took a step closer, and before she could even flinch or retreat, his gloved fingers reached for her chin.
The duke tilted her face up gently yet so firmly that her eyes were forced to meet his. Her breath caught, and heat rose to her cheeks.
He had always acted so aloof, and now he had invaded her personal space to touch her. With him standing so close, she could almost taste his scent—a mixture of earth, leather, and something old. Strangely, it felt like something sad.
“You have no idea what you are asking of me,” he whispered, his warm breath against her hair.
Her lashes fluttered at the sensation, but she refused to look away. “Then explain it to me.”
His fingers tensed just slightly on her chin, but his expression didn’t change.
“I will say this once,” he murmured, his voice low and firm. “Do not bring up the matter of heirs again. Not now, not ever.”
Those words struck her. For a moment, she could do nothing but stare into his unreadable eyes, wondering what sorrow lived behind them.
But by the time she found her voice, he had already let her go. Without hesitation, he stepped back and turned around.
She stood there, watching as he increased the distance between them. She didn’t follow him. He didn’t look back.
When the door of his carriage closed, silence was all that was left, and the feel of his gloved fingers on her chin.
Aurelia stood there for a long while, even after the carriage had disappeared, with her hands trembling faintly at her sides.
Some things were confusing her, and she wasn’t sure which was the bigger issue—the mystery of the duke, or the strange flutter in her chest that she had felt when he touched her.
But she knew one thing for sure. None of those issues was going anywhere anytime soon.