Chapter 32
The morning sun spilled over Whitmore Estate, its warmth golden and peaceful. But inside, Aurelia felt anything but peace.
Her bags were packed.
The gown she wore was simple. It was perfect, travel-ready, though her fingers trembled as she smoothed the fabric.
Every step she took toward the doors felt like rebellion, like surrender, like heartbreak. Linda followed dutifully behind, carrying two trunks that seemed to grow heavier with every passing moment.
I have to leave. I can’t stay here, not when every breath in this house feels like him, not when he drags me to the edge and leaves me dangling.
The thought cut her deep. Even her heartbeat sounded louder than her footsteps. Just a few more strides, and she would be outside, free to breathe again.
Alas, something halted her.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” a voice rang out behind her, low and thunderous.
She froze.
She didn’t need to turn around. She knew that voice. Her soul recognized it.
Percival.
Slowly, she squared her shoulders, straightened her spine, and turned around.
There he stood, framed by the morning light flooding through the grand windows, broad-shouldered and unyielding as if every inch of him was carved from dangerous authority.
His piercing blue eyes locked onto her, sharp, demanding, almost burning.
For the briefest moment, her resolve faltered.
How could it not? He was devastating. Even in anger, he was magnetic, the kind of man who could undo her with a single look.
But then she remembered last night. His rejection. His cruel words.
Never.
The memory fueled her fire.
Her glare met his. “To my parents’ house,” she snapped, sharper than she had intended. But it was necessary; she didn’t regret it.
One dark brow arched. The faintest hint of confusion broke his composure, though he revealed little more. “You didn’t mention it.”
She lifted her chin. “You told me I could do as I pleased,” she shot back, her eyes flashing with fury.
Now both his brows rose. He recognized the very words he had spoken to her last night. She had turned them like a blade in her hand.
For a long moment, silence reigned.
His jaw clenched, and she could see how he fought back the urge to refuse her. The faint throb at his temple, the urge to rake his hand through his dark hair, and pour out the frustration beneath his calm exterior. She knew her tone would have annoyed him, yet she didn’t care anymore.
He took one step forward.
Her heart flipped. She knew the effect his nearness had on her. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on her skirts, her throat tightening.
If he came any closer, if his scent wrapped around her, if his presence caged her, her courage might evaporate.
“Did you tell Lottie?” His voice came out steady, laced with something she couldn’t place.
“Yes,” she uttered.
He hesitated, his gaze searching her face. “Why so sudden?”
She stared at him. Her chest heaved, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Why so sudden? Was he truly asking her that? Wasn’t it obvious?
She wanted to scream. To tell him to open his goddamn eyes. To remember how he had treated her, how he had worshipped her with his mouth, how he had kissed her until she wept with need, only to shut her out again.
Couldn’t he read her? Couldn’t he see she was breaking?
But she said none of that. Instead, with a quivering chin and steady voice, she delivered only the truth. “Because I need to stay away from you.”
The words struck like arrows loosed in the silence.
They hung there, heavy and unmovable.
Percival didn’t move, and neither did she. They only stared at each other. Like two storms clashing in silence.
Her chest kept rising and falling with ragged breaths. His gaze narrowed, questioning and confused. Yet, beneath it all was something that made her knees weak.
Without a word, he took a step closer.
His boots clicked against the polished floor until he stood mere breaths from her. His height, his heat, his scent, caged her. They made her dizzy with want and fury.
“Stay away from me?” he echoed.
Aurelia’s mouth opened. For a heartbeat, nothing came out. She could barely breathe with him so close.
But then, with a shaky exhale, she gave the smallest nod.
She regretted it instantly. Because he knew what his nearness did to her. He saw the way her body quivered, the way her eyes betrayed the longing she tried so desperately to hide. His scent intoxicated her. His presence titillated her.
And that was what made her hate him. She hated the way she craved him, even when he pushed her away. She hated that he put her on edge. She hated that he left her yearning, starving.
She sucked in a breath, desperate to shield her thoughts. “I will be going now.”
Her words were final. Yet, when her eyes met his, she sent out a silent prayer.
Tell me to stay. Beg me. Anything. Don’t let me leave.
The words burned in her throat, but she swallowed them back.
The silence thickened, wrapping around them like suffocating smoke.
Aurelia’s courage faltered. She could only look into his piercing blue eyes, wishing, yearning, aching for him to do what he had never allowed himself to do—claim her.
But he didn’t.
Her breath came in shallow bursts, and her fists clenched at her sides.
And then he spoke, his voice low, quiet, rougher than she had ever heard it. “You need to stay away from me?”
He threw her words back at her, softer this time.
Her heart clenched. There was something different about his tone this time. It was less of a demand and more of a… plea.
But no, she wouldn’t let herself be fooled again.
“Yes.” Her voice trembled, yet she held her head high. “I do.”
For a heartbeat, she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes. Something raw. Something vulnerable. His hands twitched at his sides, as though he longed to reach for her, pull her against him, and crush his lips to hers.
But he stayed still.
His restraint was infuriating, and nothing was more torturous than his silence.
“I’ll be leaving now,” Aurelia whispered, her lungs burning.
“Are you sure about his?” he asked suddenly.
That was the crack in his armor. A question laced with something akin to desperation. His voice was quieter, lower, as though he didn’t trust himself to speak any louder.
Her lips trembled. She wanted to scream, No! I’m not sure. I don’t want to leave. I want you to want me. To claim me.
But her pride was stronger, her wounds too fresh.
“I am,” she whispered, each word slicing her chest open.
Percival’s jaw clenched, and for the briefest moment, he looked as though he might break. His fingers flexed once, twice. He swallowed hard, then asked carefully, “How did Lottie take it?”
That question broke her more than anything else. Her anger melted into sorrow.
“She cried.” Her voice hitched slightly. “She cried, Percival. But I promised her that Sir Whiskerton would keep her company.”
An image of Lottie’s tear-streaked face flashed before her, making her heart twist.
Percival’s eyes darkened, and he gave a slow nod. “If that is what you wish.”
Her breath caught.
That’s it? That’s all?
Her blood boiled as her hope was shattered into tiny pieces.
Bowing stiffly, she whispered, “Very well.”
Then, she turned away and walked out the front doors of Whitmore Estate, each step feeling like knives were stabbing through her chest.
By the time the carriage reached her parents’ house, Aurelia’s throat still burned with unspoken words.
The wheels stopped, and then she saw her family waiting outside. They had received her letter, of course.
Her mother stood with her arms folded, her father was eyeing her narrowly, while Nora and Louis stood beside them, their faces contorted with worry.
The moment Aurelia stepped out of the carriage, her mother’s voice rang out. “Aurelia, what is the meaning of this?”
Her father’s voice followed, firmer and deeper. “Did you quarrel with the duke?”
Her stomach knotted.
Of course. That is what they fear most—that I have ruined everything.
Aurelia schooled her features into calm and forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I came to help Nora with her debut.”
The twins looked unconvinced. Nora’s wide eyes softened, worry etched on her brow. Louis shifted uncomfortably, clutching his hat in his hands.
“Are you certain that is all, Aurelia?” Lady Scovell pressed.
Aurelia forced herself to stand straighter, though her throat still burned with everything she had left unsaid back at Whitmore. “Yes, that is all. I simply… needed to be here.”
Her voice cracked slightly at the end, but she lowered her head before they could press further. Before they could see the tears at the corners of her eyes.
“I’m tired,” she croaked. “I’ll rest now.”
She walked past them, feeling their gazes on her back. Yet the heaviest was Nora’s. Her sister’s soft, knowing eyes that saw too much.
Aurelia kept her head high as she ascended the stairs. But inside? Inside, she was breaking.