Chapter 17
Aurelia had not slept, and while her heavy eyelids and exhausted body begged for it, her mind was alert. The argument from the previous night, the heat of his hands, the sound of his voice saying please… they had followed her into the night.
She had tossed and turned in her bed over and over with a need she dared not name. It was only after that exhaustion claimed her, but only for an hour.
Still, Linda knocked on her chamber door at the crack of dawn. Her maid was ready to dress her up because, apparently, that morning was going to be special.
Aurelia was having breakfast with her husband, and the best part? Lottie was set to return as well.
The maid’s eyes lit up with approval when Aurelia chose a gown of soft lavender silk that clung gently to her waist and hugged her breasts.
“Your Grace,” Linda said softly, smoothing the fabric at Aurelia’s shoulder, “you look radiant this morning.”
Aurelia gave her a faint smile, though her heart fluttered wildly.
Radiant? Perhaps. But she knew the truth. They both did.
She was dressing not for the day, not even for herself, but for him. For the man who haunted her sleep and her waking hours. For Percival.
By the time she stepped into the dining room, her heart was beating too fast.
The table had been set with polished silver, and the scent of warm bread and honey filled the air. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, making the morning even more pleasant.
Lottie was already seated, her small hands folded in her lap. Aurelia spotted Percival at the far end of the table.
He was as devastating as ever. His dark coat stretched across his broad shoulders, his jaw was clean-shaven, and his blue eyes were startling against the morning light.
He looked every inch the untouchable duke.
But when Aurelia came into view, she saw the faint furrow in his brow.
Her breath caught, and she did her best to steady herself before speaking.
“Good morning,” she said. Then she turned to Lottie, “I am glad to see you back so early.”
“Father wanted it to be a surprise,” she answered. Aurelia kissed the little girl on her hair before turning to face the duke as though awaiting his judgment, but he merely stared back at her. Blue eyes piercing brown.
It wasn’t a polite, civil look. She felt the heat of his gaze sinking through the silk of her gown, almost stirring her blood.
Eventually, he gave the faintest nod of his head. “Good morning, Duchess.”
Taking a deep breath, Aurelia settled in her seat. She told herself to keep her composure, that it was only breakfast. A simple meal. Yet the way his eyes lingered on her made her flush, as though she was bare before him.
Determined not to let silence reign, she leaned forward slightly and gently spoke. “Lottie, I heard you’ve been practicing your reading with Sophia. Would you share some of your favorite passages with us?”
The girl blinked, visibly startled. But her surprise faded quickly when the corner of her lips quirked up. “I like the one about the fox, Your Grace.”
“The clever one?” Aurelia asked, smiling warmly.
“Yes. He tricked the others. It was… It was very funny.” Lottie’s small voice trembled with excitement.
She glanced at her father, her hopeful eyes begging him to join the conversation.
Percival’s brows twitched at first. His daughter, who was usually silent, was speaking so freely. He couldn’t hide the flicker of pride and amusement that touched his eyes.
But he masked it quickly, lifting his cup with deliberate calmness.
Disappointed that he said nothing, Aurelia leaned closer to the little girl. “Do you know, I once thought that a fox had stolen one of my slippers from the garden. I nearly chased it barefoot.”
Lottie gasped and then giggled. The rare sound, and the fact that his daughter had easily bought the made-up story, coaxed a laugh Percival couldn’t suppress. But when Aurelia shot him a fierce yet amused glare, he smothered his laughter with a soft cough.
Secretly, Aurelia loved it. That was the biggest smile she had seen on his face.
It seemed that she stared too long because his eyes met hers and held a knowing glint that had her eyes widening, mortified at being caught. But it was too late to deny it. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and the heat crackled across the table between them.
However, the sounds of footsteps in the corridor broke the moment. The door to the breakfast room opened, and a maid appeared.
“His Grace, the Duke of Larcher,” she announced, bobbing a curtsy before stepping aside.
Maxwell strode in with the ease of a man at home. Sunlight caught in his blonde hair, matching his bright and careless smile. The charm he exuded was undeniable, natural as breath.
He approached the table with a smug face, ignoring the way Percival rolled his eyes.
He gave a nod when he spotted Aurelia. “Duchess, you outshine the morning itself.”
“You flatter me, Duke.” Aurelia smiled. The warmth of his words eased the tightness in her chest.
“Flattery?” Maxwell laughed. “It’s the truth, Duchess. The unfiltered truth.”
She laughed again, the sound soft, surprised, and genuine. However, across the table, Percival’s jaw had turned to stone as his eyes darted between Maxwell and Aurelia.
Maxwell pulled out a chair and settled into it with casual grace before he began to talk about his ride that morning. Aurelia and Lottie leaned closer to hear him, their laughter echoing through the room.
Percival knew Maxwell was a good conversationalist, unlike himself. The sight of his wife and daughter enjoying his friend’s presence and almost forgetting about his existence made him feel a certain emotion he wouldn’t dare to admit.
His hand gripped the delicate handle of his tea cup with more force than was proper, yet he didn’t care if he cracked the ceramic, and his lips thinned. Although he didn’t speak, the tick of the muscle in his jaw spoke volumes.
And then the devil in disguise arrived, breaking the moment.
Sir Whiskerton jumped up on the table with regal poise. He sauntered across the polished wood, his tail flapping like a banner. Then, he paused before Maxwell and flicked back his ears, hissing as if to declare, You are an intruder, sir.
“Sir Whiskerton!” Aurelia gasped, mortified. “Get down this instant!”
The cat ignored her, his green eyes fixed in fierce challenge on the Duke of Larcher.
Maxwell chuckled, brushing his sleeve. “Well, well. It seems I am not welcome.”
Lottie burst into giggles, petting the creature.
Aurelia flushed crimson and reached for the cat. “I am so sorry, Duke. He has no manners whatsoever—”
“The beast is intolerable, but he seems to be playing around,” Percival interrupted.
They turned to look at him. He was leaning back in his chair, one brow raised, the faintest smirk playing on his lips.
He cleared his throat, feigning disapproval. “Tame the rat.”
Aurelia took a deep breath before lifting the tiny, fluffy creature down from the table. However, she saw Percival’s hand dart out of his pocket and toss a small treat. Sir Whiskerton snatched it up, his tail flicking in smug approval.
Aurelia’s eyes widened and then narrowed. Her husband had just rewarded the cat. And judging by the glint in his eyes, he was pleased. Ridiculously pleased.
Why?
The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.
Jealous. He’s jealous. So he is pleased that Sir Whiskerton hissed at his friend.
She couldn’t help a small smile. The naughty side of Percival was quite fun to see. It sent an intoxicating thrill through her.
A maid stepped into the room to set an additional plate before Maxwell, before pouring the tea and laying down warm bread. Then, she scurried away, leaving silence in her wake.
Maxwell brushed a tuft of white hair from his sleeve with exaggerated dignity. “My friend, you must train your subjects better. Including the pets,” he said lightly, though his grin betrayed his amusement.
“My subjects are loyal. Perhaps they know what others don’t,” Percival responded casually, hiding his own smile perfectly.
Maxwell laughed, unbothered, and tore a piece of bread. “Well then, let us eat. And afterward, Percival, we must speak of tonight’s ball. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
Percival’s fork froze, and his shoulders stiffened at the reminder.
“The ball,” he repeated flatly, as though the word itself was poison.
“Yes, the ball.” Maxwell leaned back, entirely too relaxed. “The ton is waiting. And now that you have a duchess, they will expect to see her by your side.”
Meanwhile, the word ‘ball’ had caused Aurelia’s heart to skip a beat. Music, gowns, candlelight, dancing. It instantly brought back memories of her sisters and brother. How they had fun dressing up, back at Bandfield House.
She had been locked in cold corridors and silent rooms for far too long. Her heart leapt at the thought of stepping into society once more.
“I would love to go,” she said, her eyes bright.
Both men looked at her. While Maxwell smiled in approval, Percival’s face darkened.
He turned back to his plate. “We shall see.”
Aurelia knew that tone. There was nothing promising in those clipped words. She could see the storm in his eyes.
But she decided not to press the issue. She simply picked up her fork and continued eating.
Because she knew it wouldn’t end there. She wouldn’t just do as he pleased with her freedom. She was definitely attending the ball.