CHAPTER 6
The atmosphere changed the moment the duke stepped through the front doors of Banfield House.
It wasn’t anything loud or flamboyant like a trumpet announcing his presence. There was no dramatic gust of wind or exaggerated footsteps. But the silence that accompanied his arrival said everything.
Standing near her mother by the drawing room’s sideboard, Aurelia pretended to examine a small vase of violets. She hadn’t even turned around. Following etiquette, she wasn’t supposed to speak except when addressed.
Regardless, she could alreadyfeelhim. That suffocating silence that followed him.
“We weren’t expecting you so soon,” she heard her father speak in a bright voice. She could picture the broad smile on his weathered face.
“I thought it best to come in person,” camehisvoice, the one that sounded like warm velvet wrapped around something sharper. “The wedding license has been issued.”
“Oh!” Lady Scovell gasped and stepped forward, leaving Aurelia by herself. “How efficient, Your Grace. You have spared us the wait. What do you think, Aurelia?”
Alright, that was her cue. Aurelia forced herself to breathe before she slowly turned around, and their eyes met.
His blue gaze didn’t roam or hesitate. It landed directly on her, in a way that made her stomach flip.
There was something so unfair about a man looking so severe and yet so dangerously handsome.
“Lady Aurelia,” the duke greeted with the faintest nod.
“Your Grace,” she replied as politely as she could, before stepping forward, her fingers curling tightly into the folds of her skirt.
“We were just discussing centerpieces,” Lady Scovell chipped in. Either she was oblivious or choosing to ignore the growing tension around them. “I thought the lilac blooms would be perfect for the bridal table.”
“They’ll clash with the rest of the ballroom,” Celia remarked lightly from the far end before stepping forward. “I’m not sure they’re the best choice.”
Of course, Celia would intentionally join in the conversation to confirm whether the duke was a beast or not, since it was her first time meeting him.
The duke turned to her. “You must be Lady Celia.”
“Yes. The eldest.” Celia raised her chin, coming to stand beside Aurelia.
“I see where Lady Aurelia gets her poise,” the duke stated.
Caught off guard, Celia blinked and shot Aurelia a quick look. “I—well, thank you.”
Behind them, Louis scoffed. He shifted his weight and leaned lazily against the mantelpiece. With his arms crossed and his expression unreadable, he looked like he had had enough.
“And you,” the duke added, heedless of the scorn on the boy’s face, “must be Lord Louis.”
Louis looked at him with a shrug. “I must be.” His tone crossed a line between civil and indifferent.
Aurelia resisted the urge to sigh. For as long as she known him, Louis had never mastered tact. And now, all of a sudden, he had chosen to show it.
But the duke showed no sign of offense. If anything, his gaze slid over Louis like a brief wind, before returning to Aurelia.
There was something unnerving about his gaze. It was not cold, exactly, but focused. Unflinching. As if he was cataloging not just what he saw, but also what he sensed beneath the surface.
“I hope I’m not disrupting anything,” he said to the countess.
“Oh, not at all,” she twittered. “We were just delighting in the chaos of wedding plans! Nora and I picked the colors. Pale blush and ivory with touches of silver. Isn’t that right, darling?”
Aurelia turned her head toward her mother. She smiled, the kind of smile she had practiced since girlhood. The smooth, composed smile. Then, she breathed, “Yes.” She nodded her head, as if to assure herself. “That’s… lovely.”
But even as the words left her mouth, she felt something—the weight of his gaze. She felt it like a tide slowly creeping under her skin. As though he were reading her silence, calculating the tremor in her fingers that curled softly into her skirts.