Page 43 of Bound By the Duke
CHAPTER 13
Percival’s footsteps echoed through the corridor, shattering the silence of his estate. He had told himself he left the study because it was time, because he was a father who should check on his daughter. But the moment he reached the top of the stairs and saw them stepping into the manor, he knew it was a lie.
It wasn’t just because of Lottie that he had left his study.
They stood at the double doors, Aurelia’s hand resting lightly on Lottie’s shoulder. The girl’s cheeks were smudged with paint, but it was the woman who held his attention.
Aurelia’s hair was loose from the breeze, and her lips curled into a small smile as she looked down at the child. Then, suddenly, her eyes rose and landed on him.
She went still, and so did he. Something invisible crossed the distance between the staircase and the entrance, something that made everything else fade away.
There was only her and the memory of her lips beneath his.
His breath caught. Because hehatedto remember.
However, when her lashes fluttered, he knew he was not the only one. Though she had tried to hide it by lifting her chin, he still saw it. Still saw the soft flutter at her throat that betrayed her calm.
It wasn’t fear, nor was it surprise. It was recognition. Whatever was going on in his mind was definitely unraveling her as well.
This was the closest they had gotten since the night they kissed. He hadn’t touched her since then, and yet it felt as though he had. As though he was already in sin, simply for thinking of her that way. Again.
However, his attention returned to his daughter when she hesitated. The joy that danced in her eyes moments ago had dimmed at the sight of him. Her blue gaze flickered to him with a certain wariness he did not like.
The sight made him feel terrible. The fact that his daughter had stopped smiling upon seeing him.
Aurelia also noticed, as evidenced by the way she bent slowly toward the child.
“What is it, sweetheart?” she whispered, her voice soothing.
Lottie said nothing, but the fear in her eyes was a language no one had to teach.
Percival’s jaw tightened.
Aurelia straightened again, slowly. Then, her gaze rose to his. Her brown eyes were calm, intent.
“Your Grace,” she spoke smoothly, finally breaking the silence. “We didn’t know you had returned from your business meeting. I trust it went well?”
Percival narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. The formality of her tone was deliberate without a doubt. But behind it was something else, as if she knew exactly how much she affected him and refused to let him run away from it.
He couldn’t answer, not at first. Because when he looked at her, all he could see was her lips, all he could remember was the way she had tasted.
His eyes dropped, trying his best to shake off those sinful desires. But the moment he did, he caught sight of the canvas in her hand.
It was a child’s painting, with the flowers and sun in all the wrong places. It was messy yet striking.
Aurelia followed his gaze and smiled, almost shyly. “Do you like it?” she asked.
There was something in her voice he hadn’t heard before. Something soft that went well between the lines. But he said nothing, allowing another warm silence to fall over them.
Eventually, he spoke, his voice low and rough. “You’re fond of asking questions, Duchess.”
She inhaled sharply, and her expression shifted. Just slightly. As if the sound of his voice alone had rattled her composure.
Still, she stood her ground.
“And you,” she replied, her voice soft but firm, “are fond of never answering them, Duke.”
His expression was unreadable. Not even a breath or a sigh slipped past his lips. Without another word, he descended the stairs with deliberate calmness.
