Page 92 of Bound By the Duke
With tentative steps, some pauses, and then more boldness, Lottie stopped in front of her father. Slowly, she smiled before stepping into his arms.
The hug was stiff at first, awkward in its newness. But then Percival bent a little, his large hand settling on her head and patting it gently.
“How has your day been, Lottie?” he asked, his voice softer than Aurelia had ever heard it.
“I painted,” Lottie replied, her voice muffled against his chest. “I drew flowers.”
“That is good,” he said.
The words were simple, but the look in his eyes…
It was the look of a man desperate to say more, desperate to connect, but so very unused to it.
Aurelia’s heart swelled. She clasped her hands together, trying her best not to get too emotional.
“Come,” she called lightly. “Tea is waiting, and I won’t forgive either of you if you let it get cold.”
The picnic started with gentle laughter and tender missteps. Percival attempted to pour the tea, but the kettle was so tiny he spilled a few drops on the cloth.
Aurelia bit her lip, hiding her smile. He would be terrible at tea parties.
Later, he tried slicing a cake, the knife slipping so clumsily that even Sir Whiskerton paused to flick his tail in disdain.
Aurelia laughed quietly into her hand, but her chest warmed.
For the first time, they were not three fractured souls, but something closer, something almost whole.
Lottie wanted to capture the moment. She set down her cup and reached for her paints. “I want to paint this,” she announced, her voice thick with pride.
But when she rose in haste, reaching for her sketchpad, she tripped over a plate of sugared cakes, squashing one beneath her slipper.
She froze. Her shoulders hunched, and she stepped back with wide eyes. Her lips were already trembling.
“Lottie,” Aurelia heard Percival say.
Dread rose in her chest. She already knew what was going to happen. Percival was going to scold Lottie for acting carelessly and being unladylike.
Lottie slowly looked up at him. He had already risen, his brows drawing together. He was concerned, but through her innocence, she only viewed it as displeasure. She had failed her papa, again.
“We can fix the cake,” Aurelia’s gentle voice pierced the tension.
She glanced up at Percival, her eyes holding his firmly. Though her expression was calm, it commanded,Don’t scold her.Not now. Not for this.
He inhaled, understanding melting his worry. Then, he exhaled slowly. With surprising gentleness, he bent, lifted the ruined cake, and set it aside.
“It seems we must eat the others more quickly before they meet the same fate,” he said dryly.
Lottie blinked at him uncertainly, but then she let out a small laugh. Relief flashed across her face.
Aurelia’s heart melted in the ensuing silence. Watching Percival, she could tell he was trying so hard to do better—tobebetter. And that only strengthened her desire to give him another child.
The thought of adding to their family overwhelmed her. She wanted him. She wanted all of this.
The day progressed, slipping by with soft laughter, until the sun sank low and the sky turned orange. By evening, a silvery moon had risen, and a cool breeze blew across the lawns.
The family remained outside, seated together on the blanket. A yawn escaped Lottie as she leaned against Aurelia’s arm, though she refused to fall asleep. She was cherishing every moment.
“Look,” she murmured, pointing at the sky. “The stars…”
