Page 10 of Bound By the Duke

A life she had not chosen seemed to be waiting for her. A life that would still be here.

She let her head fall against the window frame and whispered, “Tell me I’m not making a mistake.”

Sir Whiskerton blinked once, then proceeded to lick his paw with a majestic flair.

“Well,” Aurelia said softly, “I suppose that settles it.”

CHAPTER 3

There was a certain kind of silence that settled in a house when a duke was expected. It was a silence so tense that even the floorboards dared not creak. A silence that was unfamiliar in their household, which was usually teeming with life.

Aurelia adjusted the ribbon on her skirt for what had to be the sixth time. Indeed, her papa had told her she would meet the mysterious duke before they got married, but she hadn’t expected it to be this prompt.

As she dressed, she paid attention to every sound from the floor below. Carriage wheels. Footsteps.

No sound of a beast just yet.

She turned away from the mirror just as her mother entered the room in a flurry of perfume and pearls.

“Don’t fidget, Aurelia,” Lady Scovell chided. “He’s not a ghost.” She stepped closer to smooth an invisible wrinkle from her daughter’s sleeve.

Aurelia offered a thin smile. “That depends on who you ask.”

Because she was certainly sure that Nora and Louis would not think the same.

Lady Scovell gave her a sharp look. “Not today, please.”

“No sarcasm, I promise,” Aurelia assured. “I’m perfectly calm. Couldn’t be calmer, actually. In fact, if I were any calmer, I would faint.”

Her mother took a deep breath and turned to the window. “He will be here any minute. And when he arrives, they will be in the drawing room.”

They.Meaning the duke and her father. Discussing her future over brandy like it was a land deal.

Aurelia clasped her hands together to hide the tremor in them. “Isn’t it strange that he has come in person?”

She had heard that the Duke of Whitmore dreaded moving in daytime. What exactly had changed his mind?

“I find it… impressive,” Lady Scovell confessed. Something in her voice suggested that even she had been taken aback. “A man like the Duke of Whitmore rarely bothers with courtesies. The fact that he’s come at all should tell you that he means business.”

“Business,” Aurelia echoed quietly.

It was not that she had dreamed of love. But neither had she imagined her marriage beginning with an estate-wide hush and a man who might or might not be dangerous.

Still, she lifted her chin and met her mother’s gaze. “I’ll be perfect.”

Lady Scovell’s features softened, just slightly. “Yes, darling. You will.”

It was finally time to go downstairs, and Aurelia felt anxiety swell in her chest, causing a bead of sweat to slowly roll down her back.

She stood at the top of the stairs, her heart drumming like it had lost its rhythm. Her eyes scanned the door leading to the drawing room. Any moment from now, Lord Scovell and the Duke of Whitmore would step out of it.

And they did, their backs turned to her as they continued their conversation.

There he was, the Duke of Whitmore.

“He is not… a beast.” Aurelia found herself echoing her mother’s words as she noticed the gentleman’s profile.

He was tall and had one hand clasped behind his back as he spoke to her father. Broad-shouldered, with the kind of presence that bent the room around him to his will without effort. He wore no extravagant cravat or gaudy rings. And still, he looked like he owned everything he saw.