Chapter 11
Aurelia’s night had been long, far too long as she had lain awake, trying to recover from what had transpired between her and her husband.
Her heart would not stop thudding, and her lips still tingled from the kiss that had stolen every ounce of her reason.
The hardest part of that memory was his voice afterward.
“Get some rest, wife.”
The words he had uttered in the coldest and calculating way had been enough to jolt her back to reality. Wife, not woman. Not Aurelia. Just a wife whose purpose had been explained to her before their marriage.
With a deep breath, she sat up, staring at the fire burning low in the grate. Her fingers moved to stroke her bottom lip as several questions raced through her mind.
So what now? Pretend that a kiss never happened?
A sound outside caught her attention—the thudding of hooves against stone and the creaking of carriage wheels.
Noise was unusual in Whitmore Estate, especially at this hour. Any noise, especially this kind, meant something.
She rose, her nightrobe trailing softly behind her as she padded over to the window. Through the narrow slice of glass, she saw him.
He stood beside a white carriage, dressed in that maddeningly meticulous way of his.
Dark coat fitted across broad shoulders, tall frame so effortlessly commanding that the morning air seemed to bow to him.
Light caught deep in his brown hair and the hard line of his jaw, as if the sun couldn’t help but touch him.
As though he could feel her watching him, Percival raised his head. Their eyes met, and everything seemed to stop.
His gaze pinned her down, such that something clenched deep between her legs. Her chest ached from the memory of his touch of the way he had pulled her into him like he couldn’t bear the space between them.
At that moment, nothing else mattered, apart from the distance between her window and the gravel drive where he stood.
His stare was unreadable. Cool, icy-blue and merciless, without the fire that had blazed in them the previous night.
But beneath it all, something flickered. Something she almost believed she could reach.
What are you thinking, Percival? Do you regret the kiss? Do you regret what we did last night? Do you regret me?
But he didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Didn’t offer a nod of acknowledgement. Those damn walls of his were erected around him again.
Without a word, he turned away. Her eyes followed him as he climbed into the carriage and pulled the door shut.
When the carriage disappeared around the corner, her fingers curled tightly around the window frame, before a shaky breath escaped her lips.
“This insufferable husband of mine,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against the cold glass. “You kissed me like I’m yours… and left me like I’m nothing.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, heavy with emotion, but a sudden knock startled them open. It was quick, polite, and eager.
She turned toward the sound, instinctively adjusting her robe and smoothing her hair. She was a duchess now; one shouldn’t be met with disheveled hair or a troubled expression.
“Come in,” she called, expecting a servant or the governess.
But when the door opened, it was neither.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” came a soft voice.
Aurelia blinked, surprised by the sight of Lottie standing in the doorway.
The little girl held a tray with both hands, carefully carrying a small plate of brown, oddly shaped biscuits.
“Lottie?” Aurelia breathed, stepping forward unconsciously.
After the awkwardness from the previous day, she hadn’t expected the girl to come back. Not so soon. Perhaps not ever.
Yet here she was, seeking her out at dawn. And that made something stir in Aurelia’s chest. An ache. A warmth. A longing.
Lottie looked up at her with those wide, uncertain blue eyes that were so heartbreakingly familiar. “Did… Did I wake you up?” she asked, her voice so small that it almost hurt.
Aurelia shook her head at once, the movement too quick, almost desperate. “Of course not.”
The words spilled out in a rush.
A smile spread across her face as she glanced down at the tray. “You made these?”
Lottie gave a faint nod, a timid smile curving the corners of her mouth. “I thought…” She hesitated, extending her arms with great ceremony. “Perhaps you would like something sweet… for breakfast.”
Staring at the treat, Aurelia felt her heart clench. Not because the biscuits were uneven and clearly shaped by small fingers, but because of what they meant.
“My darling, this is the loveliest breakfast I have ever seen. Thank you.” She smiled, taking the tray from the girl’s chubby fingers.
Another small smile tugged at Lottie’s lips before her blue eyes darted around the chamber with shy curiosity. “Did you… Did you enjoy your first night here?”
The question was so innocent, yet it nearly made Aurelia choke. Heat rushed to her cheeks as the memory of Percival’s kiss flashed through her mind, the way he had pressed her against him before he tore himself away as if he were burned.
Lottie blinked at her, waiting.
Aurelia swallowed hard. “Yes.” She cleared her throat in a bid to steady herself. “Yes, my chamber is beautiful. I slept… quite well.”
She forced a smile, hoping it would look natural.
Lottie studied her briefly before nodding again. She glanced down at the tray. “You should eat. They are not very pretty,” she added quietly. “But I thought—”
“They are perfect,” Aurelia interrupted, her voice firm.
She took a biscuit from the plate and bit into it without hesitation. It tasted sweet on her tongue, warm and soft, a little too sugary, but it was delightful nonetheless.
She closed her eyes briefly in appreciation. “Delicious.”
Lottie’s face brightened at that.
“Tell me, what does a day usually look like for you?” Aurelia asked as she finished the biscuit, before moving to the chaise longue.
“My day?” Lottie repeated, trailing after her. She hesitated before elaborating, “Well, I have an embroidery lesson with Miss Havers at nine. French at ten. Pianoforte until noon. Lunch. Then history, literature, posture lessons, and etiquette practice until supper.”
Aurelia froze mid-step. “All of that… in one day?”
“Yes.” Lottie’s fingers twisted in the folds of her dress, her voice timid and low. “Papa says that a lady must be educated. He says that it is of the utmost importance.”
“Utter rot,” Aurelia murmured to herself.
Ten years old, and her day is that strict? Where is the time for recreation? Thoroughly absurd.
She glanced down at the little girl and then leaned closer. “And do you…” She paused, softening her voice. “Do you enjoy all these lessons?”
Lottie stared at her for a moment before biting her lip with a faint shrug. “Sometimes.” She looked away.
Her response told Aurelia all she needed to know.
While she didn’t want to pry, she would be responsible for the girl’s care, and she wanted her to enjoy her childhood just as she had.
Taking a deep breath, Aurelia placed the tray on the table and then moved to look out the window. The morning sun was stronger now, its warmth spreading across the grounds of the estate. The breeze stirred the leaves, adding more life to the day.
Like Lady Scovell always said, a perfect day should never be wasted.
With that thought in mind, Aurelia turned back to Lottie, a spark of mischief in her chocolate-brown eyes. “What if we tried something different today?”
The girl blinked, her thick brows rising with curiosity. “Different?”
“Yes.” Aurelia stepped closer, reaching and grabbing her hand as though she were inviting her to embark on a grand adventure. “No embroidery. No pianoforte. Just… come with me. We will see where the day takes us.”
Lottie’s face contorted with worry. Her blue eyes widened, and her lips curled around the word ‘no.’ But then she hesitated, as if caught in the hope. The hope of having fun and trying something new.
Aurelia leaned closer, her smile warm and coaxing. “Would you like that, Lottie?” she asked softly.
The girl looked at her for a long moment before, slowly, so slowly, it came. A nod so small and timid, but real.
And that was all Aurelia needed.
She squeezed the girl’s hand, her smile stretching wider. “Good. Then let us begin.”
Aurelia did not know exactly where she was leading Lottie. It was her first day as the Duchess of Whitmore, and she barely knew the nooks and crannies.
But that didn’t really matter. Fun didn’t have to be carefully orchestrated.
They walked through the corridors hand in hand, and by the time they reached the rear terrace, the morning had ripened into a gentle gold.
“Would you like to see the flowers?” Lottie asked as they came across the path that led to the garden.
Aurelia stopped in her tracks. She had seen the garden from her chamber window and had been struck by its beauty. She was certain it would look even better up close.
“Certainly.” Her breath hitched with excitement.
They crossed toward a new path, walking along another row of manicured hedges, winding paths, and blooms in every shade.
When they reached the garden, it was like stepping into another world. Roses and lilies blossomed all over the place, with different shades of lavender providing the perfect backdrop.
“It is… exquisite,” Aurelia whispered, drinking in the sight before her.
Lottie smiled. “You like flowers?”
“Very much.” Aurelia crouched beside a bed of violets and tenderly brushed their petals. “My mother has a garden. Nothing nearly as grand as this, but I used to spend hours there, learning the names of every blossom.”
“That must be great,” Lottie said, her expression no longer strained. A smile played on her lips, the biggest Aurelia had ever seen from her. “I love them too. I also love to draw them.”
“You must be so talented. I would love to see your art.” Aurelia straightened up to pat the girl on the shoulder.
Lottie nodded shyly, but then her eyes caught something. She stepped forward, pointing to a cluster of pink peonies.