Page 79 of Bound By the Duke
This was the main reason she was sitting by the window—to keep an eye on the carriages approaching the inn, hoping one of them held her dearest friend.
She scanned the bustling street eagerly, and every time she spotted wheels, her heart rate would quicken.
Then, she saw it. The dark carriage, with a familiar trim and grandeur. Her breath caught in her throat.
Without thinking, she rose, peering through the window such that she was half leaning over the sill, ready to throw herself out like an eager child.
“Hyacinth?” The word came out in a whisper, her eyes lighting up with joy.
The carriage slowed to a stop, and the door opened. And there she was.
Hyacinth stepped out in a gown of soft lavender, her bonnet tilted just so, and her usual soft smile brighter than the morning sun itself. As though she could sense eyes on her, she looked up and found Aurelia almost at once. Instantly, her hands flew up in a delighted wave.
Aurelia nearly screamed her name. The urge and effervescence were impossible to contain. But she stopped herself just in time, pressing her lips together.
Duchess. You are a duchess now. Try to remember that.
Instead of bouncing up and down like a little girl, she pressed her hands against her chest and mouthed, “You are here!”
Her friend read her lips so perfectly, the laughter escaping her the perfect proof. She mouthed in return, “Of course I’m here, you goose!”
Aurelia giggled so hard that she nearly lost her balance at the window. She blew her friend an exaggerated kiss, which earned her a mock gasp. Hyacinth clutched her chest dramatically before pretending to swoon against the side of the carriage.
Both women laughed, the kind of laughter that conveyed years of secrets and shared memories.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Aurelia spun away from the window. She hurried across the room, her skirts swishing, and darted for the door.
She flung the door open, nearly tripping over the hem of her skirts in her haste. She would have flown if she could. But then, all of a sudden, an immovable barrier collided with her.
Two strong hands grabbed her shoulders, steadying her.
Her breath hitched in her chest.
The scent of him reached her first. That leather, spicy scent. Her eyes widened in recognition, and her knees weakened. She knew this fragrance as intimately as her own skin.
Slowly, almost unwillingly, she lifted her gaze.
And there he was, tall and broad, staring back at her with piercing blue eyes framed by lashes too dark, too damning.
Her heart stopped.
Percival.
Her husband stood before her, his grip firm on her shoulders. She felt small beneath him, caged by his strength.
The laughter from moments ago died on her lips. What remained was only heat. A dangerous, sinful heat.
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Then, she swallowed and shifted her gaze from his hands to his face, which she knew far too well.
“Duke,” she greeted softly.
His eyes narrowed on her. “You nearly ran me over, Duchess.” His voice was even, but there was a curiosity lurking underneath. “Where were you rushing to?”
Her lips curled into a smile despite the way her heart thundered. “I… my friend. She’s here.”
“Your friend?” His brows drew together, leaving a faint crease on his otherwise stoic face. His hands tightened on her, almost possessively. “Whichfriend?”
The emphasis made her blink. She could almost sense it. HisJealousy.But she didn’t want to be faster than her shadows.
