Page 87 of Bound By the Duke
Her blue eyes widened, admiring the gown.
With a laugh that sounded like silver bells, Aurelia asked, “Would you like to try it on?”
“Yes!”
Aurelia extended the gown toward her, and Lottie snatched it with excitement before disappearing.
Silence ensued, but not the kind that came with peace. Rather, the one that always came with that particular tension.
But Aurelia was willing to break it, at least the quiet part.
She turned her head. “You did well, Duke. You made her happy,” she remarked in a low voice.
The praise sank deep into his bones. It wasn’t the title that made his chest tighten; it was the words she said before. Most especially, how her voice had carried it like a gentle breeze.
As he looked at her, he could see how the curve of her mouth softened just for him. How those velvet-brown eyes of hers uncovered every part of him he tried to bury. Every fear. Every desire.
“It was all thanks to you,” he finally said, but the words came out rough, almost hoarse.
She didn’t say a word, her breath catching in her throat.
Percival stepped forward, surprising her.
He shouldn’t have. They both knew it. But something pulled him toward her, something silent and merciless. It was like a storm at sea.
She lifted her chin, looking up at him. He was too close now, and all he did was stare down. The scent of flowers filled his nose—something distinctly Aurelia, something that filled his senses like a drug.
Something that always made him want to give in.
He wanted to touch her. To grip her waist and feel her melt against him. He wanted to close the space between them.Wanted to know what she tasted like when she moaned his name.
But not yet. Because if he started, he would not stop.
Just then, a sound shattered the air like a clap of thunder. “Mother! Father! Look!”
They both turned around.
Lottie ran back into the hall, her gown billowing around her like a flurry of petals.
The sight made Aurelia gasp, and her hands flew to her chest. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” she breathed, stepping closer to the girl.
“Thank you,” Lottie said politely, beaming.
Slowly, almost shyly, her eyes flickered to her father in unspoken hope. However, Percival stood still beneath the chandeliers. He saw her smile but was too clueless to understand what his daughter wanted from him.
Aurelia gave him an encouraging look. Even though she could see the adoration in his blue gaze, as though his daughter was the most perfect little human he had ever seen, he had to speak out.
“Papa?” Lottie’s voice broke the silence, gently nudging.
His brow creased in confusion, and his gaze flicked to Aurelia. She fluttered her lashes at him, mouthing, “Tell her,” before stylishly pointing at the dress.
At that, his brow smoothed. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to turn to the girl.
“The dress looks lovely on you, Charlotte,” he told her with a small smile, “You look wonderful.”
The look on her face told him all he needed to know—his words mattered to her.
“Thank you, Papa,” she said, giggling. “I have to show it to Miss Sophia and Linda and everyone else.”
