Chapter 26
The late afternoon light bathed the stone walls in honeyed gold.
It seemed as if the manor had prepared itself, waiting for its masters to return.
Aurelia leaned forward, her gloved hands gripping the edge of the window. Her chest tightened, her breathing quickening with anticipation.
Home, at last.
But she was more excited about reuniting with Lottie.
Three days away from the little girl felt like an eternity. Her heart beat quicker at the thought of those small arms wrapping around her, of that sweet, eager voice greeting her.
Before the footman could even open the carriage door, a joyful squeal pierced the air. “Mother!”
Aurelia froze, her throat closing with sudden emotion. That voice… that word. It tore through every defense she had built around herself.
She turned toward the window, trembling.
Across the lawn, Lottie was running, her skirts flying and hair tumbling from its neat ribbons. Pure joy radiated from her, fierce as a storm.
“Mother!” Her voice rang out again, brighter.
Besides Aurelia, Percival was astonished by the confidence with which the girl spoke the word. It cut through him with devastating sweetness.
Mother.
Lottie had said it without hesitation, without thought, like it had always belonged to Aurelia. And God help him, that truth cut him open.
He had never expected he would witness such a moment. Had never dared to hope. And now, it was here, undeniable, devastating in its beauty.
It made his chest ache.
Although he did not smile, his eyes softened imperceptibly. He had not thought himself capable of such joy.
The carriage door swung open. Percival stepped down first, the image of discipline, with his shoulders squared and his jaw hard. The embodiment of restraint.
Then, he turned and offered his hand without hesitation. She took it.
Aurelia’s fingers slid into his, warm through the thin leather of her glove. Instantly, something arced between them—a low, prickly heat.
She didn’t notice the way his touch tightened though, of the way his thumb brushed along the inside of her wrist just before she stepped out. She didn’t see the flash in his eyes or hear his quiet inhale.
Her gaze was already locked on the small figure charging toward them like a firestorm of joy.
Lottie skidded to a breathless stop before them and threw herself straight into Aurelia’s arms. “Mother,” she murmured, content.
Without hesitating, Aurelia wrapped her arms around the child, laughing as well. Then, she spun the girl around as though she had been waiting her whole life for that moment.
“Oh, my darling girl,” she breathed, her voice breaking with joy. She buried her face in the child’s hair, kissing her again and again. “I missed you. I missed you so terribly.”
The little girl clung tighter to her. “It was so boring without you.”
Aurelia laughed again, the sound husky, relieved and aching all at once.
As the excitement grew between them, someone stood silently behind.
Percival. His eyes were locked on them, like someone beholding something unreal.
He couldn’t believe it. His daughter, who had always kept her distance from adults, had freely pressed her cheek against Aurelia’s shoulder, secure and unafraid.
And Aurelia…
She looked like something sacred. Like she was his. Like a woman who could tear him apart if he let her in.
She was a duchess, yes. But beyond that, she was always a thing he would never touch without burning.
And still, he wanted to burn.
God, he wanted it.
“And Sophia?” Aurelia murmured, swaying gently with the child in her arms. “Did she keep you in line?”
Lottie made a face, her nose wrinkling in mock betrayal. “Sophia’s too strict.”
Aurelia let out a dramatic gasp. Then, she laughed and tucked a stray curl behind the girl’s ear. “I will tell her you said that. Though between us, I don’t doubt it.”
When they shared another laugh, Percival once again felt the urge to smile. It tugged at the corners of his mouth before he could even control it.
His teeth sank into the inside of his cheek, but he was quick to swallow.
He told himself that he was not allowed to smile like that. Not over something so close to bliss. Because if he let himself fall into that feeling, there would be no crawling out.
Most essentially, he didn’t think he deserved it.
“What about Sir Whiskerton?” Aurelia asked, her eyes scanning the lawn.
As though he understood, the cat appeared, dashing across the grass with his tail high, meowing his indignation at being left behind.
Lottie giggled, breathless. “Even Sir Whiskerton missed you!”
Aurelia knelt down to gather the feline into her arms. She nuzzled him, closing her eyes. “Oh, my knight,” she whispered. “Did you guard the manor while I was gone?”
The cat purred like a creature in paradise. And Percival could barely stand it. Or perhaps that was his denial.
He continued to watch them, Aurelia with the cat in her arms and Lottie pressed against her side. The sight made something dangerous curl low in his belly. It stirred a particular feeling he had never expected to experience. Not in his bleakest hopes. Not in his darkest nights.
And now that it was real, now that he could feel it, he realized he wanted it. This family.
More than breath. More than control. More than the distance he had so carefully maintained between them.
He wanted to feel the warmth, too. He wanted Lottie to be so carefree around him as well. So he decided to speak.
His lips parted slightly, but then he snapped them shut, unsure of what to say. He clenched his jaw, straightening his spine.
His gaze flicked back to Aurelia. Ever since they had gotten married, so many things had changed. The biggest one was his resistance to the desire to claim her.
And now, the bitter truth was that he wanted heirs. He wanted nights of sinful heat. He wanted mornings with her tangled in his sheets, her skin bare and voice hoarse from moaning.
But above all, he wanted her. Aurelia.
And that truth terrified him more than anything.
She didn’t even look at him as she spoke with Lottie. And still, he was undone.
Fortunately, Lottie’s voice rang out, preventing him from crumbling further. “Papa!”
His breath caught in his throat when he caught the smile on her face. He wasn’t used to his daughter smiling widely at him. His entire body froze, as if bracing against something too large to process.
The little girl walked up to him, her curls bouncing around her face.
“Well,” he said, his voice choked with something dangerously close to wonder, “you do notice me.”
He reached down to ruffle her hair with a gentleness that shocked even himself.
She giggled, sweet yet quiet. “Of course I do.”
He gave a faint smile and then turned to the trunk that had just been unloaded by the footman. He retrieved the small bundle within it—a muslin doll, its features painted with delicate care.
His fingers trembled, not from uncertainty but from the pressure behind every movement. He wanted to do it right. He also wanted to impress his daughter.
“For you,” he told her gruffly, offering the doll like it were something sacred.
Lottie gasped, as if he had placed a crown in her hands. Her fingers clutched the doll. Then, without warning, she launched herself at him, hugging him fiercely.
For a second, his arms hovered mid-air, unsure of what to do. Lottie had never initiated hugs. But then he slowly lowered his arms and enveloped her in a gentle embrace.
Emotion clogged his throat. He lowered his head in a bid to hide his face.
Aurelia watched them, her lips parted on a breath she had not known she had been holding. This man, this untouchable duke, was undone by a child’s hug.
She’d never seen him look more beautiful, more vulnerable. And it hurt her when he cleared his throat and slowly let go of the child, breaking the spell.
“See what Daddy got me.” Lottie turned back to Aurelia.
Aurelia looked at her husband shyly and said, “You did well.”
“Mother, you promised me presents, too!” Lottie exclaimed, as though suddenly remembering.
“And I always keep my promises,” Aurelia assured her. “But I will show you inside. Come along, it’s getting hot out here.”
Lottie nodded and reached for Aurelia’s hand. Together, they moved into the main hall, their footsteps and laughter blending perfectly.
Percival followed, but his eyes were fixed on his wife.
On the graceful line of her neck, the sway of her hips beneath her skirts.
On the way she moved, like she belonged in every room she entered.
The way she smiled at his daughter like love was easy, like it didn’t have to be earned with blood and grief.
She was too much. Too radiant. Too real.
And he was starving for her.
Inside, Aurelia bent over a trunk and lifted a delicate gown. The fabric shimmered with soft floral patterns, embroidered in fine thread that glimmered in the chandelier’s light.
Lottie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “This is so pretty.”
Her blue eyes widened, admiring the gown.
With a laugh that sounded like silver bells, Aurelia asked, “Would you like to try it on?”
“Yes!”
Aurelia extended the gown toward her, and Lottie snatched it with excitement before disappearing.
Silence ensued, but not the kind that came with peace. Rather, the one that always came with that particular tension.
But Aurelia was willing to break it, at least the quiet part.
She turned her head. “You did well, Duke. You made her happy,” she remarked in a low voice.
The praise sank deep into his bones. It wasn’t the title that made his chest tighten; it was the words she said before. Most especially, how her voice had carried it like a gentle breeze.
As he looked at her, he could see how the curve of her mouth softened just for him. How those velvet-brown eyes of hers uncovered every part of him he tried to bury. Every fear. Every desire.
“It was all thanks to you,” he finally said, but the words came out rough, almost hoarse.
She didn’t say a word, her breath catching in her throat.
Percival stepped forward, surprising her.
He shouldn’t have. They both knew it. But something pulled him toward her, something silent and merciless. It was like a storm at sea.
She lifted her chin, looking up at him. He was too close now, and all he did was stare down. The scent of flowers filled his nose—something distinctly Aurelia, something that filled his senses like a drug.
Something that always made him want to give in.
He wanted to touch her. To grip her waist and feel her melt against him. He wanted to close the space between them. Wanted to know what she tasted like when she moaned his name.
But not yet. Because if he started, he would not stop.
Just then, a sound shattered the air like a clap of thunder. “Mother! Father! Look!”
They both turned around.
Lottie ran back into the hall, her gown billowing around her like a flurry of petals.
The sight made Aurelia gasp, and her hands flew to her chest. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” she breathed, stepping closer to the girl.
“Thank you,” Lottie said politely, beaming.
Slowly, almost shyly, her eyes flickered to her father in unspoken hope. However, Percival stood still beneath the chandeliers. He saw her smile but was too clueless to understand what his daughter wanted from him.
Aurelia gave him an encouraging look. Even though she could see the adoration in his blue gaze, as though his daughter was the most perfect little human he had ever seen, he had to speak out.
“Papa?” Lottie’s voice broke the silence, gently nudging.
His brow creased in confusion, and his gaze flicked to Aurelia. She fluttered her lashes at him, mouthing, “Tell her,” before stylishly pointing at the dress.
At that, his brow smoothed. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to turn to the girl.
“The dress looks lovely on you, Charlotte,” he told her with a small smile, “You look wonderful.”
The look on her face told him all he needed to know—his words mattered to her.
“Thank you, Papa,” she said, giggling. “I have to show it to Miss Sophia and Linda and everyone else.”
Then, she darted away, laughter trailing behind her.
The earlier silence returned, thick and charged.