Page 13 of Bound to the Heartless Duke (Regency Beasts #4)

T he morning sunlight filtered through the heavy velvet curtains, casting shadows on the polished floorboards of the great hall. Lily stood near the window, absentmindedly twisting a loose strand of hair around her fingers.

Despite the warm sunshine, the atmosphere was cold and tense.

And there was one name that summarized the source of her troubles: Magnus Wyndham, the Duke of Blackmore.

It wasn’t just the fact that the changes in the house were impossible to ignore. Summer was no longer scurrying after her like a puppy. Now, there were servants in every corner of the house, barking and receiving orders she neither wanted nor understood.

It wasn’t just that. It was something more, and it revolved around that night with Magnus. When the most unbelievable thing occurred between them.

The kiss haunted her.

She wasn’t sure what to do about it. Of course, she knew to avoid him and make sure that it never happened again.

However, it was the memory of the kiss that she wasn’t sure what to do with. She could remember it so vividly that she could almost feel his lips against hers, feel the warmth of his body.

What was worse was that the memory gave way to more formidable fantasies. Fantasies that made her disappointed in herself.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Her brother’s familiar voice broke the fragile silence, followed by the sounds of his sharp, deliberate footfalls.

She inhaled slowly before turning around, and the first thing she noticed was his rage. She already knew what he was going to say.

“Why had he turned this place into a market field? How dare he?” Nathan snapped.

Her shoulder heaved with a sigh not willing to deal with her brother’s foul mood so early in the day.

She was already in a dour mood having chastised herself for the improper dreams she had given herself to after engaging in such an improper activity with the duke and had hoped for a peaceful morning.

But before she could answer, a smooth, measured voice, with an edge that was anything but kind, spoke up, “Nathan. Still clinging to what’s no longer yours? ”

Nathan’s head snapped up before he turned around, his dark eyes flashing with a stubborn fire. “This is my home.”

Lily turned around as well, and there he was, the Duke of Blackmore himself.

He had stepped fully into the room, his presence commanding, the lines of his tailored dark brown coat precise.

“Home?” Magnus’s lips curled into a mocking smile.

Oddly, it was sinister in a seductive way that tugged at her heartstrings.

“You don’t even seem to know whose name’s on the deed anymore,” he added, before taking a step towards Nathan. “Magnus Wyndham, the new master of this manor.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened—the reaction the Duke was seeking, no doubt.

“Title or not, you don’t get to have what’s been in my family for generations without earning it.”

“Earned?” Magnus laughed, the sound low, sharp, like the snap of a whip. “Through your gambling debts, your reckless choices, your inability to keep your home from crumbling? I rescued this place.”

A flicker of something crossed Nathan’s eyes. Lily didn’t miss it. It was more of a mixture of fury and humiliation, rising like a storm at sea.

“You rescued nothing,” Nathan spat back, stepping closer. The air between the two men crackled with such tension that Lily could almost feel it. “You bought it off me. Bought my family name, but you’ll never own my pride.”

Magnus’s gaze cooled, becoming harder to read. “Pride doesn’t pay debts, Nathan. Neither does stubbornness. Maybe you should thank me for not throwing you out on the street.”

At that, Lily’s heart clenched. The tension was pressing down on her. She wanted to say something, anything, to defuse the situation and prevent an altercation. However, the words were stuck in her throat, and she found herself caught in the middle, powerless.

“Throw me out of the streets?” Nathan echoed with a dry chuckle.

Magnus gave a curt nod. “If you want your family seat, Nathan,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “I’m happy to leave you the title. A hollow crown for a hollow man.”

Nathan’s face contorted with anger, pain, and disbelief. “Don’t speak about hollowness. You don’t understand loyalty. You’re a stranger here.”

Magnus gave a sharp, cruel, and calculated smile. “A stranger who owns the house. And soon, you’ll be a stranger to this town.”

The words hit Nathan like a blow. He staggered slightly, swallowing hard. It made Lily’s breath catch. She had never seen her brother so unmoored.

For a long moment, neither man moved. The only sound was the distant ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the faint footsteps of the servants.

Eventually, Magnus broke the silence.

“I’ll leave you one thing, Nathan.” He paused, his eyes flickering to Lily. “The respect of those who still believe you deserve it.”

“All of a sudden, you sound like someone who has a vast amount of that. You keep trying to evade the fact that you are a gambler too. The only thing that sets us apart is luck,” Nathan retorted.

“You are not one to lecture me on ‘luck.’” Magnus’s voice tightened.

Nathan barked a bitter laugh. “You must enjoy playing the role of the preceptor.” He took a step closer. “But do you know what keeps me here?”

Magnus tilted his head, before an amused smirk crept onto his lips. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Getting the manor back. With luck.” Nathan’s eyes were hard, flickering with defiance. “Hope.”

“Hope can be poison,” Magnus simply stated, his stoic face never once betraying his emotions.

A brief silence fell over them before Nathan responded, “Well, we’ll see.”

He took a step back, and his eyes landed on his sister briefly before he turned around and walked away.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Lily held her breath for a moment, not knowing exactly what to do. She was not supposed to feel even an ounce of sympathy for her brother because he created this whole mess.

“It seems you are caught between two storms.” Magnus’s voice jolted her out of her reverie.

She inhaled sharply, bracing herself for the very conversation she had been avoiding.

“I don’t know which will break me fast,” she whispered.

He turned fully to her, his expression unreadable, his eyes sharp. Nothing that suggested he had kissed her with such passion that night.

Had he forgotten about it? Was she the only one who had been unable to stop thinking about it?

“Maybe neither.” He gave a faint smile.

Lily didn’t move. The hall was empty, save for both of them. But something other than silence lingered between them. It was thick and hot. It mirrored the look in his eyes. The one that made her breath hitch.

She swallowed, making sure her expression didn’t betray her inner turmoil.

Yes, the duke was helping them by not outing them from the manor and she should be grateful but his words had not just ribbed her brother but her as well.

He only reminded her of the agreement between them and how she couldn’t afford to allow herself be distracted by his handsome appeal.

She turned back to the window, needing to put some distance between them.

Her fingers grazed the sill, the coldness slowly seeping into her.

“You shouldn’t have said that to Nathan,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the garden beyond.

“I meant it.”

“You always do.”

She didn’t look at him, and her tone wasn’t cold. It was wounded. And that made it worse for Magnus.

Silence ensued. It was heavy, and sure enough expected. She could feel him behind her, the heat of him.

Then, he spoke in a low voice, “He needs to hear the truth, even if it comes from someone he hates.”

Her chest rose and fell as she bit back a reply. Because the truth wasn’t the problem; it was the man delivering it.

The man who had kissed her in the hallway two nights ago with a reckless tenderness that made her momentarily forget the predicament she and her brother were in.

It almost felt like betrayal.

And now he was here, speaking as if nothing had happened. As if the kiss hadn’t happened. As if her lips hadn’t quivered under his. As if she hadn’t leaned into him.

She turned around slowly. “You act like you know everything. But you don’t understand what this house means to us.”

His eyes locked onto hers. Those mesmerizing eyes. “I understand what it means to you. I’ve seen it in the way you look at the walls, like they’re alive. I’ve heard it in the way you speak of the past, as though it still has breath.”

Lily hated how steady his voice was. Hated how observant he was. Hated how he watched her intently. Hated more that her heart answered to it.

“I have to tell you,” she said tightly, “that kiss was a mistake.”

“I know.”

She blinked, her eyebrows knitting together. “That’s all you have to say?”

His answer was so brief, so quick, as though he had been expecting those words.

“What else would you like me to say?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “That I regret it too? I don’t.”

Her breath caught, and she swallowed thickly when his gaze dropped to her lips before returning to her eyes.

“But if you regret it, I’ll respect that.” He shrugged.

“That’s not—” She broke off and shook her head, suddenly flustered. “You don’t get to twist this around. You kissed me.”

“And you kissed me back.” He took another step forward.

The words hit her like a slap. The truth and the reality of them.

Suddenly, the air between them shifted. Perhaps it was the closeness of his body heat, but the space between them felt delicate yet dangerous like the silence just before lightning split the sky.

The mood was rife with tension and she was suddenly taken back to the night before when she had crossed a line she shouldn’t have.

“I was confused and upset,” she said quickly. “You’d just told me everything I feared was true. You stripped away every illusion I had?—”

“And you kissed me,” he cut in. “Not because you were weak, but because you wanted to. For once.”