Chapter 30
The first thing Aurelia felt was his absence when she woke up.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she realized with a start that the bed she lay in wasn’t her own. It was Percival’s. The duke’s forbidden sanctuary.
Her eyes darted across the chamber, searching for his tall shadow, but he was nowhere in sight. All she had were warm sheets.
Where did he go?
Almost immediately, a wicked memory flooded back, stealing the air from her lungs. The previous night replayed in her mind. His lips on her throat, the grip of his hand as he spread her thighs, the sinful drag of his tongue against her sex.
“God…” she whispered, her core clenching at the memory. Heat crept up her chest, shameful and sweet.
Her lips curved despite herself. A silly, girlish smile. It made her so ashamed that she pressed her face into the pillow, hugging it close. The smell of him hit her instantly, that faint, masculine spice that lingered in his clothes.
It only made her ache more.
She remembered how he had stroked himself, how his hand had gripped his hard, thick length.
She squeezed her thighs under the sheets once again, feeling the wetness between her legs.
“Shameless,” she muttered under her breath, but that did not stop the smile that painted her lips.
Because it was impossible not to. Last night was different. He had shown that he wanted her, that he needed her.
A sharp knock sounded at the door, cutting her musings short. She sat upright in bed, her heart leaping. No one ever came into his chamber. Not the servants, not even her.
His room was sacred, locked with invisible rules, and yet here she was, seated on his sheets with the scent of him imprinted on her skin.
The door opened with a soft click, revealing him.
Percival stood in the doorway, the pale light catching his sharp cheekbones. Despite his stern expression, she could still remember the look in his eyes on the precious night. Undone, ravenous. It seared her skin.
It was ridiculous, but she wanted him to devour her again that instant.
He closed the door behind him and stepped closer. Not as the man who had unraveled her in the hallway and his chamber. Not as a composed duke either.
A dangerous emotion flickered in his eyes, a tension that hadn’t yet dissipated.
“How are you feeling this morning?” His voice was calm, and his eyes drifted to her bare collarbone.
“Lovely,” she replied softly, her blush betraying her. “It… It feels rather wonderful to wake up in your bed.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them. For a moment, she almost feared she had said too much. But then she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
Almost a smile.
“I received a message this morning,” he revealed.
That pulled her out of the dizzying warmth of memory. “A message?”
He nodded once. His eyes softened as they met hers, and this time the flicker of amusement was undeniable. “Your family is coming for a visit.”
Her lips parted. Her eyes widened. And excitement lit up her face.
Percival couldn’t help it when he saw the joy in her expression. His own lips curled into the smallest and rarest of smiles.
Aurelia could hardly believe her ears.
Her family. Here.
The words had barely sunk in before she jumped out of bed. For the briefest moment, she forgot she was the Duchess of Whitmore. Now, she was a daughter, a sister, a young woman longing for her loved ones.
Impulsively, she tiptoed to her husband and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
He froze, his breath catching at the unexpected sweet gesture. His body coiled, as if that smallest act could unravel him all over again.
But before he could react, she had darted away with a girlish laugh that made his chest ache.
Moments later, the distant clatter of wheels on gravel reached her ears.
A carriage.
Her family.
Aurelia hurried through the corridors, her heart beating fast. But as she reached the grand staircase, she forced herself to slow her steps.
Act like a duchess, Aurelia, she told herself. Aurelia squared her shoulders and slowly walked outside.
The carriage drew to a stop. Aurelia stood before the front steps, waiting patiently, her hands folded neatly before her.
The first person to descend was her mother, elegant as ever. Behind her, she saw her father with his kindly eyes. Then came the storms, Nora and Louis, in their youthful radiance.
At the sight of them, Aurelia’s composure nearly shattered. She wanted to rush forward and gather them in her arms. But she held back, only allowing the smallest smile to curve her lips.
Until her mother stepped close enough to embrace her.
The warmth of the gesture conveyed an apology for the last time they had met.
Aurelia hugged her tighter. “Welcome,” she whispered, her voice trembling with joy.
The family moved into the manor, eventually.
Percival awaited inside, every inch the regal duke. Yet, he inclined his head to her family and bowed deeply, especially to Lord Scovell, as if aware of how much this meeting meant to his wife.
The two men exchanged pleasantries about the estate and the season. Beneath it, though, Aurelia sensed Percival’s deliberate effort to show her family respect.
While they spoke, she guided the twins upstairs, her heart full.
Louis’s eyes widened the moment Sir Whiskerton sauntered into view, his tail swaying.
“The cat!” he exclaimed, scooping the furry creature into his arms. “He’s even fatter than in your letters!”
Aurelia laughed, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Do not let him hear you say that, Louis. He has quite the temper.”
Louis grinned, stroking the cat as if it were a treasure. “I want to see the stables. Do you think Sir Whiskerton will like the horses?”
Before Aurelia could reply, he was gone, rushing out of the house with her cat in tow, calling something about knights and dragons.
Thus, she was left alone with Nora.
It was then that Aurelia noticed the glow on her sister’s face. The soft gleam in her hazel eyes told a secret she couldn’t hide.
“Nora…” Aurelia narrowed her eyes, half-playful, half-curious. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Nora’s blush deepened. She looked away, fidgeting with her gloves. “Perhaps.”
Aurelia gasped softly, clasping her hands together. “You’ve fallen in love.”
“I… well…” Nora’s face broke into a helpless smile. “There is a certain gentleman. A suitor.”
Aurelia’s heart melted. She drew her sister close. “Tell me everything. Who is he? Does he make you laugh? Does he see you? Truly see you?” she asked in a hushed tone.
Nora giggled and buried her face in Aurelia’s shoulder. “All I will say is that he is unlike anyone I have met. And yes, he makes me feel that the world might be wider than I believed.”
Aurelia squeezed her tightly, pride swelling in her chest. “Then he is worth your time. When the Season comes, I will chaperone you. We’ll make sure he proves himself worthy of you.”
Nora’s eyes lit up. “You would? Truly?”
“Of course,” Aurelia said, brushing a lock of hair from her sister’s face. “Any excuse to see more of you. To see more of home.”
Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door, interrupting them.
Lady Scovell entered, her poise as sharp as her frown. Instantly, the air thickened. Whatever she brought, it was not good news. Aurelia could feel it.
She straightened on instinct. “Mother?”
Lady Scovell’s gaze swept the chamber, then landed firmly on Aurelia. “You look well daughter,” she said, eyeing her. “I presume the duke treats you well?”
“He does,” she answered.
“It has been three months,” she said with a pointed look. “When do we get word of an heir?”
The words struck Aurelia like a slap across the face.
Nora stiffened beside her, looking nervously between them.
“Mother—” Aurelia said, but Lady Scovell cut her off.
“Tell me, child. Have you even tried?” the woman asked pointedly, “You know it is important to cement your position.”
Aurelia’s throat tightened. Her mother’s words had only revealed a bitter truth. It deepened already existing fears. The doubt whether Percival would ever truly claim her.
Aurelia drew a breath and lifted her chin. “You cannot speak to me like this anymore.”
Lady Scovell’s brows shot up.
“I will not be reduced to a failure,” Aurelia continued, her voice trembling but her gaze firm.
She could not show weakness now. All her life, all she had ever wanted was to please her parents. But for once, she wanted to choose herself, her own desires.
“I will not beg for your approval,” she declared. “If I am to give the duke an heir, it will be because I choose to. Because I love him.”
The silence that followed was sharp; it hung in the air like fire.
Her mother’s frown deepened. “Love does not excuse duty.”
Aurelia did not respond immediately. She turned away from her mother, her gaze sliding to the window, to the gardens beyond.
“Then let me be clear,” she said quietly. “I will pursue this. Not for duty’s sake, and not for you, but because I am in love with him.”