Chapter 24
The morning after the ball was slow and pleasant. The streets of London teemed with life, refreshed from the lavish party of the night before
From the windows in her room, Aurelia could hear laughter spilling across the grounds below. Her mind had yet to recover from what had transpired between her and her husband.
The fingers she traced along the wooden sill halted when she noticed the creature on the ground below. A ginger cat prowled lazily, pausing to lick its paw before a stack of crates.
Her lips quirked up at the precious sight, her jaw coming to rest on her palms. It also made her heart clench, as she remembered Sir Whiskerton.
She pictured Lottie playing with her cat at Whitmore Estate, her brown hair tumbling about her shoulders, laughing as Sir Whiskerton batted at her ribbons.
My sweet furry knight. At least he keeps her company.
The thought of Lottie made her smile widen. She wished she could see them both.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened and smoothed the skirts of her pale blue morning dress. She shook the melancholy away. Today was not for longing.
Today, she would see Hyacinth.
Just the thought made her heart leap. Aurelia had received some letters earlier mentioning her friend’s stay at an exquisite inn that was a short walk from her husband’s Mayfair house. A coincidence had never pleased her so.
Hyacinth was life itself: dazzling laughter, bold wit, the kind of loyalty that could cut sharper than a blade when needed. Aurelia hadn’t met her precious gem since she got married.
This was the main reason she was sitting by the window—to keep an eye on the carriages approaching the inn, hoping one of them held her dearest friend.
She scanned the bustling street eagerly, and every time she spotted wheels, her heart rate would quicken.
Then, she saw it. The dark carriage, with a familiar trim and grandeur. Her breath caught in her throat.
Without thinking, she rose, peering through the window such that she was half leaning over the sill, ready to throw herself out like an eager child.
“Hyacinth?” The word came out in a whisper, her eyes lighting up with joy.
The carriage slowed to a stop, and the door opened. And there she was.
Hyacinth stepped out in a gown of soft lavender, her bonnet tilted just so, and her usual soft smile brighter than the morning sun itself. As though she could sense eyes on her, she looked up and found Aurelia almost at once. Instantly, her hands flew up in a delighted wave.
Aurelia nearly screamed her name. The urge and effervescence were impossible to contain. But she stopped herself just in time, pressing her lips together.
Duchess. You are a duchess now. Try to remember that.
Instead of bouncing up and down like a little girl, she pressed her hands against her chest and mouthed, “You are here!”
Her friend read her lips so perfectly, the laughter escaping her the perfect proof. She mouthed in return, “Of course I’m here, you goose!”
Aurelia giggled so hard that she nearly lost her balance at the window. She blew her friend an exaggerated kiss, which earned her a mock gasp. Hyacinth clutched her chest dramatically before pretending to swoon against the side of the carriage.
Both women laughed, the kind of laughter that conveyed years of secrets and shared memories.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Aurelia spun away from the window. She hurried across the room, her skirts swishing, and darted for the door.
She flung the door open, nearly tripping over the hem of her skirts in her haste. She would have flown if she could. But then, all of a sudden, an immovable barrier collided with her.
Two strong hands grabbed her shoulders, steadying her.
Her breath hitched in her chest.
The scent of him reached her first. That leather, spicy scent. Her eyes widened in recognition, and her knees weakened. She knew this fragrance as intimately as her own skin.
Slowly, almost unwillingly, she lifted her gaze.
And there he was, tall and broad, staring back at her with piercing blue eyes framed by lashes too dark, too damning.
Her heart stopped.
Percival.
Her husband stood before her, his grip firm on her shoulders. She felt small beneath him, caged by his strength.
The laughter from moments ago died on her lips. What remained was only heat. A dangerous, sinful heat.
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Then, she swallowed and shifted her gaze from his hands to his face, which she knew far too well.
“Duke,” she greeted softly.
His eyes narrowed on her. “You nearly ran me over, Duchess.” His voice was even, but there was a curiosity lurking underneath. “Where were you rushing to?”
Her lips curled into a smile despite the way her heart thundered. “I… my friend. She’s here.”
“Your friend?” His brows drew together, leaving a faint crease on his otherwise stoic face. His hands tightened on her, almost possessively. “Which friend?”
The emphasis made her blink. She could almost sense it. His Jealousy. But she didn’t want to be faster than her shadows.
“Hyacinth,” she breathed. “I received her letter at dawn, and now she is here.”
The name softened him instantly, though he would never admit it aloud.
He released a slow breath through his nose, silently cursing himself.
Fool. You sound like a jealous boy, demanding names as though you own her every thought. And yet… perhaps I do.
“I see.” Without thought, his fingers squeezed her shoulders once.
When he realized what he had done, he quickly let go as though her skin had burned him, withdrawing his hands and folding them behind his back.
Aurelia noticed the way his jaw tightened, his eyes studying the cobblestones instead of her face.
“Is something the matter?” She tilted her head, her brow creasing with concern.
He looked at her now. It was ironic. Because the ‘matter’ itself was the one demanding an answer. How was he going to reveal to her that she drove him to the edge of madness?
“No,” he responded nonetheless, almost too quickly. “Nothing’s the matter.”
She did not believe him. Her brown eyes told him so. But before she could press further, a bright, delighted voice broke through the tension.
“Aurelia!”
Hyacinth’s unmistakable laughter followed. It carried through the space like music. Instantly, Aurelia’s face broke into a wide, genuine smile.
“Hyacinth!” She turned around, squinting her eyes to see her friend approach.
Without a second thought, she moved away from her husband, ready to meet her friend.
The ladies collided halfway, their arms tangling in a fierce embrace. They laughed together, a sound that spoke of years of secrets, stolen sweets, and girlish dreams.
“You look radiant,” Hyacinth noted, pulling back only to take in Aurelia’s dress. “Positively radiant. Married life agrees with you.”
Though her cheeks warmed, Aurelia rolled her eyes. “And you look like spring itself in that color. Lavender suits you far too well; it is unfair to the rest of us.”
They laughed again, Hyacinth squeezing her hands. “Oh, I have missed this. I could hardly sleep, thinking of seeing you. London will not know what has hit it with us together.”
“I fear you are right,” Aurelia teased with a grin.
From a distance, Percival watched. His arms remained folded, his back rigid, but his eyes betrayed him. He could not look away from his wife, the light in her eyes, and the way she glowed under her friend’s affection.
She laughs with such abandon.
It undid something within him. That particular reckless smile of hers, she had only turned it toward him in fleeting moments.
But then, realizing that he was losing control again, he pushed the thought away, clearing his throat.
Enough. He had married her for the sake of his daughter, not to get his stupid heart involved.
But deep down, Aurelia scared him like flames. He feared that if he drew too close, he might burn.
“Come,” Hyacinth tugged on her hand eagerly. “We must take a walk. The city awaits. I will not waste a second of this day.”
“Of course.” Aurelia’s eyes sparkled.
But before she let her friend drag her away, she turned back.
Percival was still standing a short distance away, his figure tall and imposing. Despite his unreadable expression, something about him seemed… off. Like he was troubled. The lines around his mouth were deeper, his gaze shadowed.
Still, she took a deep breath and did all she could to inject cheer into her voice. “Duke,” she began gently, “this is Hyacinth, my dearest friend.”
Percival’s blue eyes flickered to her friend, who dipped into a dramatic curtsy. “An honor, Your Grace.”
Percival inclined his head in acknowledgment, his lips barely curving. “Lady Hyacinth.”
That was all he offered, allowing an awkward silence to penetrate.
Aurelia bit her lip. She had hoped for more warmth, but perhaps that was foolish thinking.
She hesitated, but then asked softly, “Would you… care to join us?”
She already knew the answer to her question. Yet she had dared enough to ask someone as reticent as he was to come along.
His eyes didn’t show any emotion as he shook his head. “No, I have business that requires my attention.”
Even though she had seen it coming, his words fell heavy. Her heart ached. She told herself not to be disappointed, but she could not ignore the pang.
He looks so far away, even when he stands so near.
Something was wrong with him that morning. He seemed so different compared to the man who had kissed her breathless near a fountain.
“I understand,” she finally murmured.
With a single breath, his eyes finally locked onto hers. “Be good,” he urged, his voice low.
Though Aurelia hated to part with him, she nodded and turned around before the look in his eyes could make her knees buckle.
“Now, what shall we see first? What shops shall we raid?” Hyacinth smiled at her and linked their arms. She could sense the tension, but she was determined to cheer up her friend.
Aurelia laughed softly at her and leaned closer, eager for her warmth. But even as she let her friend drag her away, she felt the weight of another gaze. Percival’s.
She knew he was watching them leave. And he certainly was, his eyes narrowed and his chest heaving. His hands curled into fists behind his back, his nails digging into his palms.
Aurelia was undoing him. That was simply what was wrong with him. It was driving him to madness.
And he feared, once again, that he might lose himself, ruin her with his hunger until she couldn’t stand straight, couldn’t breathe without thinking of him.
His jaw tightened. He glanced away toward the window, but that did not stop the storm raging within him.
And if he did surrender to his body’s demands, there would be heirs. Heirs he had sworn to never have because of the past. The guilt that made it difficult for him to yearn freely for Aurelia.
The past held a truth that he could not bear to reveal to anyone. Not even his wife.