Chapter 9
The carriage slowed to a halt on the gravel drive. The sky had darkened considerably now, and above them towered the silhouette of Whitmore Estate. It stood without flickering lanterns in the windows or servants bustling about.
Aurelia leaned forward slightly to take a peek through the window.
So this was it. Her new home.
It was grand, larger than her family’s estate by far, but she could already feel the lack of warmth in it. There was no music drifting through open windows, nor the scent of fresh roses.
Beside her, Percival reached out to open the door without a word. He stepped down first and offered his hand.
Aurelia hesitated, her gaze fixed on his face. She felt something flutter in her stomach, not from nerves exactly but from something else. She wasn’t frightened of him, not exactly. It was just that she had to figure out how to feel about the man who was now her husband.
Taking a deep breath, she eventually placed her fingers in his, his palm warm and steady.
She stepped down, her boots meeting stone. She looked up at the manor again and noted quietly, “It’s very still.”
Percival didn’t reply. Of course, he didn’t. He just stood behind her, silent as a statue, his face unreadable in the low lantern light held by the driver.
Aurelia turned slightly to look at him, swallowing past her dry throat before daring to say, “Your daughter… Charlotte. She didn’t attend the wedding.”
A beat passed.
“She doesn’t like events. Or crowds,” Percival explained in a low voice.
There was nothing on his face. No trace of emotion or invitation for more questions.
“I see,” Aurelia said gently, trying not to let her disappointment creep into her voice.
They walked to the manor, and a servant opened the front doors with a bow.
Aurelia found herself stepping inside a warm hall, her footsteps echoing lightly on the marble floors. Her eyes immediately found the gold-framed paintings on the walls.
There was no laughter. No scent of cooking food. No hum of life.
It wasn’t unwelcoming. But for someone who came from a large family, it was just… unfamiliar.
When the doors closed behind them, she looked at her new husband. “Do you always return home to this silence?”
His blue eyes flicked to her, unreadable as usual. “It’s quieter this way.”
“That sounds… lonely.”
He didn’t answer.
Before she could say more, a figure appeared in the distance, moving closer to them until she could see it was a little girl.
Immediately, Aurelia’s heart skipped a beat.
Lottie. This must be her.
The girl was smaller than Aurelia had expected, with a slender frame, long brown hair, and sharp blue eyes just like her father’s. While Percival’s were more guarded, hers seemed unsure, cautious.
Lottie came to a halt and gave a polite bow.
Aurelia smiled. “You must be Lottie.” Her voice softened.
The girl gave a small nod.
“I was hoping to meet you.” Aurelia bowed as well, then curtsied most gracefully.
Another nod.
A pause followed, one that was heavy yet not uncomfortable. Lottie’s large eyes were fixed on Aurelia, as though waiting for more questions she could answer with nods.
Aurelia decided to try again, her voice still warm as ever. “Did you help decorate the house for my arrival?”
Lottie shook her head once. “No, ma’am.”
“No?” Aurelia made a noise that sounded more curious than disappointed. “Then I suppose the butler did all the work.”
“I suppose.”
That was the girl’s first full sentence, and Aurelia treated it like a gift.
She smiled wider. “Well, I think you should have. You strike me as someone with excellent taste.”
The girl blinked before a shy smile curved her lips. “Well, I love to paint,” she muttered, fidgeting with her fingers.
“Oh, really? That’s lovely to hear.” A flicker of surprise passed over Aurelia’s face. “I suppose you paint the house?”
“Certainly. And I add more colors.”
Aurelia’s smile faltered at those innocent words.
Whitmore Estate… Lottie must not love its loneliness and gloominess. Aurelia could already see why Percival needed to marry urgently.
“I am sure you will make great paintings.” She smiled. Not one of her rehearsed pleasant smiles, but a genuine one.
They stood facing each other as a brief silence settled between them. Lottie started to fidget with her fingers again. Aurelia knew so little about her, so she wasn’t sure what to say next.
Suddenly, a soft, muffled meow sounded from behind them.
Lottie was the first to look, turning her head instantly to see the creature jumping off Aurelia’s travel trunk. One of the footmen tried to shoo him away, to which the cat hissed, making Aurelia chuckle.
Lottie’s eyes widened as the cat meowed again.
Aurelia smiled at her reaction before offering gently, “That would be Sir Whiskerton.”
The girl looked stunned, her blue eyes darting to Aurelia once again. “You have a cat?”
“I do,” Aurelia replied with a graceful nod. “He’s rather spoiled and very dramatic. But I couldn’t leave him. He has been my best friend for six years now.”
“That’s lovely,” Lottie said in a sincere tone. “But what a unique name, I suppose.”
Aurelia could have sworn there was a hint of humor in the little girl’s voice.
“Well, if not that, it could have been Majestic Tail.” She shrugged.
The girl let out a very brief laugh.
The cat meowed again, louder and more insistent this time. Obviously asking for attention. Lottie drew closer to the fur ball.
“He doesn’t bite,” Aurelia assured the moment she noticed the girl’s hesitation. “Only when his food is late.”
Lottie finally knelt beside the cat and reached out a hand. Sir Whiskerton sniffed her fingers, then slowly rubbed his head against them with a loud, unashamed purr.
The girl’s face lit up. She looked at Aurelia with wide eyes, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter.
“See?” Aurelia beamed.
Lottie rose and scooped up the small creature into her arms like he was the most precious thing ever. “He’s soft,” she said quietly, rubbing behind his ear.
“He likes you already.”
Aurelia watched her, and something in her chest loosened.
She was aware that Percival stood across the hall, watching them with his arms folded. As usual, his face was unreadable. But upon closer inspection, Aurelia caught a certain look.
An angry look? Or a look of disapproval?
She wasn’t quite sure what to call it.
She straightened slightly at the sight of him. Whatever had loosened in her chest a few minutes ago twisted into a tight knot.
Her eyes dropped. “Have I displeased you?”
He took a moment to stare at Sir Whiskerton before muttering, “No, you have not.”
Aurelia took a deep breath, not sure what she should say, until he spoke again.
“Charlotte.”
Lottie looked up at once.
“You should return to your room,” Percival instructed.
Lottie hesitated, her eyes flickering back to Aurelia. “Yes, Papa.”
She bobbed a small curtsey and gently set down the cat. She turned around, but not before giving Sir Whiskerton one last rub. Then, with quiet steps, she disappeared up the stairs, leaving the two newlyweds standing alone in the dimly lit hallway.