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Matilda opened her mouth to respond but found that she was speechless. As he spoke, the Duke had crossed the entryway to stand immediately before her. Even more shocking was that he reached out to grip hold of her hand and once more pressed her knuckles to his lips. He stared at her, allowing her hand to linger against his lips for several moments as she felt her breath catch in her throat and her heart stop beating.
“You are always welcome at my side,” he told her, his breath warm against her knuckles as he spoke the words barely above a whisper. Yet Matilda heard them entirely clearly and they made her heart race faster than ever before. Even as he lowered her hand, never letting go of her fingers, he continued to stare into her gaze.
She had never really allowed herself to notice before but now that she was staring directly into his eyes, unable to look away, she noticed that his eyes were not merely a dark cocoa brown. They were flecked with small sparks of gold and green which caused them to come alive with affection and emotion as he gazed back at her.
What is happening?
She cleared her throat, preparing to come up with some excuse to break whatever spell had come over her, but the Duke beat her to it.
“Miss Percival, you are looking exceptionally beautiful this evening,” he told her. “And as much as I would like to keep you and share further in your company, I know that you must retire to bed. I have kept you up much too late as is.”
There was an affectionate and genuine smile upon the Duke’s face as he brushed his lips over her knuckles one final time and seemed to reluctantly release her hand.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Matilda responded, quickly dropping down into a curtsy to say farewell so that she would not do something that she might come to regret. “And thank you once again for a wonderful evening.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Percival.”
The moment that he bowed in response to her curtsy, Matilda turned and quickly began to make her way up the stairs. Even as she did so, she could feel his eyes upon her. Unlike the scathing glare that Lady Florentia had offered her for most of the evening, the Duke’s gaze upon her felt as though it was filled with longing and hope, and it made Matilda’s heart ache painfully.
Whatever this is,Matilda told herself firmly, gritting her teeth and squeezing her hands into fists until her fingernails dug into her palms,I cannot allow it to happen!
Yet even as she lay abed that night, trying to forget, she could not help but think of all that might have happened had she not run away.
She thought of how it might have felt for the Duke to kiss her lips instead of her knuckles, how it might have felt if he had pulled her into his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear, kissing behind her ear before travelling further down her neck and her collar bone and further still until he met the neckline of her gown and felt the urge to remove the garments from her body entirely.
They were most inappropriate thoughts, growing worse by the minute, and yet no matter how much she tried, Matilda could not seem to shake them. She felt as though they were a part of her now and not just that but also that the Duke was a part of her too, as if to stop thinking of him she would have to cut off a piece of herself with him.
Tossing and turning for more than an hour, she finally fell into sleep only to realise that her steamy thoughts had followed her into her dreaming world. And there, anything could happen.
Chapter 8
The next evening, as Watson was joined by Miss Percival in his study for the nightly report, all the Duke could think of was how she had looked the evening before. Though she stood before him, beautiful as ever, the night before she had been utterly radiant, and he had suffered a great deal in trying to keep himself from staring at her.
Though she had not been adorned in diamonds, rubies, and emeralds as all the other female guests had been, she shone ever more brightly in her duck egg blue gown, her golden hair shining in the candlelight at the dinner table. Her musical laughter had caught his ear several times and he had even felt a touch of jealousy when he glanced down the table to see that she was amused at something Heath had said to her.
It had taken several attempts for Watson to remind himself that Mr Hayman was his closest friend and so not somebody to grow angry with merely for making a beautiful woman laugh.
Even now, Miss Percival radiated beauty and grace, standing before him in her plain charcoal grey dress. The colour was one that many governesses chose to wear and yet none had pulled it off like her and Watson was sure that it only made her hair glow more, giving spark to even her hazel eyes.
"All has been well today, Your Grace," she assured him with her hands clasped before her and her head bowed. Watson could not help but feel that she looked slightly nervous and the way she remained standing close to the open study door quickly reminded him of the night before and how close they had stood upon their farewells.
He could not exactly blame her for feeling nervous. He felt it too, in his stomach, whenever he looked at her. Though the sensation only appeared to urge him on further, it made him want to do things that he had absolutely no business even thinking about.
"Please, Miss Percival, come in and tell me more," Watson insisted, gesturing from his desk for her to sit upon the armchair opposite him. The governess looked up from where she had been gazing down at the floor and offered him a slight smile, the kind that told him she was most definitely nervous. "Is all well with you, Miss Percival?"
Guilt pricked in his gut at the thought of having made her uncomfortable. It was the very last thing he ever wished to do.
"Oh, yes, Your Grace," Miss Percival responded and as though she had sensed his discomfort also, she quickly moved to take the seat he had offered her.
"I am glad to hear it," he said, smiling at her and hoping that she would feel a little more comfortable. "I do hope you are not too tired after such a late evening last night."
As soon as the words left his lips, Watson was unsure as to whether he should have spoken them or not. The governess' cheeks grew red as if she too were remembering the moment they had shared together at the bottom of the staircase.
“Not as tired as I believed I might be,” she responded and this time, when she smiled it appeared far less rigid on her face.
“I am glad to hear it.” Watson smiled back before adjusting the papers on his desk that he had just finished up with. “And I do hope that my daughter’s late night did not cause you any trouble today.”
Having spoken the words, he held his breath as he awaited Miss Percival’s response, half expecting her to sigh and admit that all had not been well as she had led him to believe upon entering the room. Instead, she continued to smile and nodded firmly. “Lady Amy has definitely been quieter than usual though I cannot say that being tired has affected her learning too much today.”
