Chapter 38
The first thing Aurelia saw when her lashes fluttered open was light. Soft, golden light that spilled through her old window.
She took a quiet breath and let it sink into her chest.
How long has it been since I woke up to this view?
She had missed the way dawn looked from her childhood bed. That gentle and brimming memory.
It made her lips curve faintly. But her smile faltered the moment her gaze dropped.
There, on the floor beside her bed, slumped a figure. Long limbs folded, broad shoulders resting against the edge of her bedside table, a head bowed in restless sleep.
Percival.
Her heart melted. The Duke of Whitmore, her husband, had forsaken the comforts of a guest chamber to spend the night watching over her. He had chosen the hard floor instead of leaving her side.
“Surely the floor must be freezing,” she whispered.
She tried not to smile, but the effort was hopeless.
As quietly as she could, she slipped out of bed, the hem of her nightgown brushing her ankles as she moved toward him.
Kneeling down beside him, she drank him in.
Good Lord. He was exquisite, even in sleep.
The chiseled line of his jaw, the graceful fan of dark lashes over sharp cheekbones, the slight furrow between his brows. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed slowly and deeply.
Her eyes lingered on him for a while.
He is mine? This man is mine?
A soft chuckle escaped her lips. She leaned in and brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen across his forehead. Her heart beat faster.
She couldn’t resist the urge, so she bent down. Her lips trembled with the thrill of boldness before pressing the gentlest kiss to his forehead. But before she could draw back, two strong arms snaked around her waist.
Aurelia gasped as he pulled her flush against his chest. Then, she laughed, half-startled, half-thrilled.
“You—!” She tried to wriggle free, but only ended up pressed tighter against him. “So you weren’t asleep at all?”
“Why would I be? I was watching over you,” Percival purred, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. “And it seems that was a foolish mistake… because look what I’ve caught.”
His voice, deep and roughened with sleep, swept through her like fire. She shivered, laughter slipping past her lips in helpless betrayal.
“You,” she whispered, still giggling.
But her laughter died down when his grip and comfort began to titillate her senses. Just his voice, just his nearness, was enough to undo her. Heat coiled low in her belly.
He shifted slightly, positioning himself against the wall. His hands never left her, firmly pinning her to his lap.
“How do you feel now?” he asked, raising one hand and brushing back stray strands with exquisite gentleness.
The touch made her core clench. She forced herself to breathe, to focus on the question instead of how wet she was becoming.
“Better,” she answered softly. “I only need to eat… and to take my medicine.”
His features smoothed in relief, like sunlight piercing through storm clouds. His thumb brushed her temple tenderly.
“Thank God,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to her ear, then another just beneath it.
His lips lingered there, and her breathing grew ragged.
More, she wanted more.
His lips moved again, grazing her skin, and she almost moaned. Heat rolled through her body in waves, and her nightgown suddenly felt too thin.
If he wanted to claim her now, if he wished to take her on the floorboards, she would not refuse. She would beg for it.
“Percival…” she whispered.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
A knock sounded at the door. Almost immediately, Lady Scovell’s voice rang through, clear and steady.
“Your Graces, breakfast is ready. Do not linger too long.”
The countess didn’t wait for an answer before her footsteps retreated down the corridor.
With a helpless laugh, Aurelia pressed her forehead into her husband’s chest. “Oh, merciful heavens.”
Percival’s arm tightened around her waist, and his lips curved against her hair. “Saved by the knock.”
She tilted her face up, grinning despite herself. Her body still burned with want, with a need that only he could satisfy.
“Let’s have some breakfast, husband.”
The Scovells’ dining hall had always been a place of chatter and clinking silverware. But this morning, as Aurelia entered with Percival at her side, the atmosphere changed.
Nora was the first to move. The moment her sister crossed the threshold, she rose from her chair so fast that her napkin fell to the floor.
“Aurelia!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace her.
She wrapped her arms around Aurelia’s shoulders, trembling slightly.
Ever since the incident, Nora had barely seen her. She had waited with bated breath, hoping her sister would be all right. She didn’t know what she did to deserve a sister like Aurelia, and never in a million years would she find an answer.
“Are you well? I—oh, you had me worried. So worried,” Nora whispered against her sister’s shoulder.
Aurelia hugged her back, warmth suffusing her chest. “I am fine, dearest. Truly.”
However, she felt a pang in her heart.
She had been so caught up in her own struggles that she had barely thought of Nora’s wounds. The betrayal of her suitor.
But she knew it wasn’t the time to talk about it. If anything, Aurelia wanted to shield her sister from those shadows, not drag her back into them over breakfast.
When they pulled apart, Nora blinked away the tears in her eyes. She forced a smile, a genuine yet burdened one, before returning to her seat.
Percival’s hand remained on the small of Aurelia’s back as they moved toward the long table, the gesture protective and strangely possessive.
She didn’t mind it. She actually liked it, perhaps too much.
Her parents watched them closely. Lord Scovell, who was seated at the head of the table, rose when she approached. He took her hand in his large, warm one.
“Daughter,” he said gently, giving her an affectionate squeeze, “you look better already. God be praised.”
Aurelia gave a smile, small but sincere. “Thank you, Father,” she answered, before taking a seat.
Lady Scovell’s eyes were sharper and more assessing. They darted from Aurelia to the man sitting beside her. It was impossible to miss the way Percival held her hand beneath the table, the way he refused to release her fingers even after the meal began.
The countess’s lips quirked in thought. Then, with deliberate calm, she spoke, “It appears that the two of you have… reconciled.”
The words set off a chain reaction across the table. Louis raised a brow. Nora paused, with her spoon halfway to her mouth. Aurelia felt her cheeks flush, but she didn’t look away.
Yes, she and Percival had fought. Yes, they had nearly shattered. But here they were, their fingers entwined, their hearts healing.
Lady Scovell folded her hands neatly on her napkin. “Since matters are as they should be,” she continued, “it is time we address what comes next.”
Aurelia slowly looked up. She could sense where the conversation was headed.
“You must start thinking of children,” her mother said plainly, as if it were the most natural transition in the world. “An heir, Aurelia. That is your main duty. You have reconciled, so it is only proper.”
Aurelia’s heart flipped. But beneath the table, she felt Percival’s grip tighten on her hand, as if to ground her.
Her throat went dry. She could still hear Percival’s voice from last night. The rawness of his confession.
His broken whisper echoed in her mind.
“What if childbirth takes you from me, and I’m left holding the pieces?”
She couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow her mother to dictate her life. Not anymore.
Slowly, Aurelia set down her spoon and lifted her gaze. In its light brown depths, there was a calm. But upon closer look, it was more like a gentle storm. The kind that could cut through any hindrances.
Drawing a deep breath, she made up her mind—she would announce her decision in front of everyone, without trying to please one or the other.
At that moment, she wanted to choose herself first. She wanted to choose Percival first. She wanted to choose their love first.
“We’re not having children,” she declared, her eyes fixed on her mother’s face.
Her words landed like a stone thrown into a still pond. Or the kind that could shatter glass. And the silence that followed was so thick that no one knew how to break it.
But Nora’s shock did it.
“Aurelia?” Her voice was laced with disbelief. “You… you have always said… it was on your list.”
Louis’s gasp followed. A deep frown creased his face, and his brown eyes narrowed with suspicion. Nonetheless, he said nothing.
Still, Aurelia could read the question in his face.
Is the duke forcing you into this?
“Nonsense.” Lady Scovell slammed her mug on the table so suddenly that Nora jumped in her seat. “Do not jest about such matters. You know what is expected of you. A duchess—”
“This is not a jest,” Aurelia interrupted, her voice quieter yet still firm.
She was tired. Tired of holding back.
In fact, to hell with her list. She had initially created it because she wanted to please her parents. But now, she wanted nothing more than to please herself. To do things she believed would benefit her.
And right now, that was understanding Percival’s pain.
“This decision was made by me, and it is final.” Aurelia straightened in her chair, her shoulders squared with resolve.
“You cannot mean that.” Her mother’s voice rose. “You speak in haste, child. With foolish emotion. Think of your family. Think of—”
“My family,” Aurelia cut in sharply, “is already here. Sitting beside me.”
She paused, then slowly turned her head toward Percival. She glanced briefly at her siblings and gave them a smile. The kind of smile that was broken yet happy to be free.
“If you wish to visit us, you may,” Aurelia continued, looking back at her mother. “But you will not insult my husband or dictate what I must do with my life. Not anymore.”
The silence that followed was thick and tense. Even Lord Scovell had stopped eating, watching her. When his wife fell silent, too stunned to speak, he took over.
“Dear Aurelia, are you sure you will not regret this?” he asked gently.
“No, Father.” Aurelia turned to look at him.
“And while I try to fix my life, I hope you and Mother shift your focus to the twins. To their happiness. To what they want, not what you want.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Please don’t repeat the mistake you made with me.
Parents should never force love on their children. It could ruin lives…”
She paused when she sensed the slight tremor in Percival’s fingers and gave him a tight squeeze.
They were in this together. They would find their happiness together. They would be set free from the past together.
Lady Scovell inhaled sharply, as though Aurelia had slapped her.
Aurelia briefly felt a pang of guilt, but she shoved it away. For once, she was not a girl desperate for approval, desperate to meet every standard her mother set for her. She was a duchess. A wife. And she would protect what she loved.
Lady Scovell’s lips parted. Her eyes flicked to Aurelia once more, and at last, her expression shifted. The hard line of her mouth softened, and then a small, rueful smile appeared.
“I only want the best for you,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I have only ever wanted what was best for my children. Someday you will see that.”
Aurelia exhaled slowly as relief washed over her. She knew her decision had yet to be accepted by her mother but the woman wouldn’t push.
For the first time in years, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She wasn’t performing. She wasn’t bending herself into the mold her mother asked for.
She was finally free. Free to love Percival, free to be happy on her own terms.
She glanced sideways at her husband, who still held her hand tightly. At that moment, her heart whispered what her lips dared not yet repeat aloud.
This is enough. This is everything.