Page 56 of Bound By the Duke

“Sir Whiskerton!” Aurelia gasped, mortified. “Get down this instant!”

The cat ignored her, his green eyes fixed in fierce challenge on the Duke of Larcher.

Maxwell chuckled, brushing his sleeve. “Well, well. It seems I am not welcome.”

Lottie burst into giggles, petting the creature.

Aurelia flushed crimson and reached for the cat. “I am so sorry, Duke. He has no manners whatsoever?—”

“The beast is intolerable, but he seems to be playing around,” Percival interrupted.

They turned to look at him. He was leaning back in his chair, one brow raised, the faintest smirk playing on his lips.

He cleared his throat, feigning disapproval. “Tame the rat.”

Aurelia took a deep breath before lifting the tiny, fluffy creature down from the table. However, she saw Percival’s hand dart out of his pocket and toss a small treat. Sir Whiskerton snatched it up, his tail flicking in smug approval.

Aurelia’s eyes widened and then narrowed. Her husband had just rewarded the cat. And judging by the glint in his eyes, he was pleased. Ridiculously pleased.

Why?

The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.

Jealous. He’s jealous. So he is pleased that Sir Whiskerton hissed at his friend.

She couldn’t help a small smile. The naughty side of Percival was quite fun to see. It sent an intoxicating thrill through her.

A maid stepped into the room to set an additional plate before Maxwell, before pouring the tea and laying down warm bread. Then, she scurried away, leaving silence in her wake.

Maxwell brushed a tuft of white hair from his sleeve with exaggerated dignity. “My friend, you must train your subjects better. Including the pets,” he said lightly, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

“My subjects are loyal. Perhaps they know what others don’t,” Percival responded casually, hiding his own smile perfectly.

Maxwell laughed, unbothered, and tore a piece of bread. “Well then, let us eat. And afterward, Percival, we must speak of tonight’s ball. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

Percival’s fork froze, and his shoulders stiffened at the reminder.

“The ball,” he repeated flatly, as though the word itself was poison.

“Yes, the ball.” Maxwell leaned back, entirely too relaxed. “The ton is waiting. And now that you have a duchess, they will expect to see her by your side.”

Meanwhile, the word ‘ball’ had caused Aurelia’s heart to skip a beat. Music, gowns, candlelight, dancing. It instantly brought back memories of her sisters and brother. How they had fun dressing up, back at Bandfield House.

She had been locked in cold corridors and silent rooms for far too long. Her heart leapt at the thought of stepping into society once more.

“I would love to go,” she said, her eyes bright.

Both men looked at her. While Maxwell smiled in approval, Percival’s face darkened.

He turned back to his plate. “We shall see.”

Aurelia knew that tone. There was nothing promising in those clipped words. She could see the storm in his eyes.

But she decided not to press the issue. She simply picked up her fork and continued eating.

Because she knew it wouldn’t end there. She wouldn’t just do as he pleased with her freedom. She was definitely attending the ball.

CHAPTER 18