My Ruthless Duke (The Twisted Dukes #4)

Chapter 1

“ H ave you seen my Mama?”

Cordelia Farrington felt as if she were undertaking an impossible task. Though given that she was hunting down a woman so predisposed to theatrics, she ought not to be having such a difficult time. Normally, her mother, the Dowager Marchioness of Salisbury, had the sort of voice that could fill theaters with its resonance.

Except for tonight. The older woman being silent was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it meant that she had likely not yet gotten herself into trouble. On the other hand, she could not be located, which could mean she was being scandalous behind a closed door somewhere. Cordelia’s nerves could not handle either option.

Marina Marner, Cordelia’s dear friend, clutched her wine glass and looked around herself. “She was just here a moment ago…”

“That is what I was afraid of.” Cordelia sighed.

“I saw her at the refreshments table, but now… surely, she cannot have gotten too far?”

If only that were true.

“Alas, she is a slippery woman, Marina; do not underestimate her,” Cordelia answered.

At least Marina had the decency to cover her mouth with the back of her hand instead of openly laughing at Cordelia. “Cordelia, dearest, relax. She cannot be into anything terrible in such a short amount of time!”

Cordelia’s head whipped around; her search momentarily paused as her eyes widened. “Do not jinx me!”

Marina pushed at her shoulders, urging her to continue. She spoke with a laugh, for she knew too well just how embarrassing Cordelia’s mother could be from time to time. Given the quality of the wine served tonight, Cordelia’s concern was well-founded. “Then you better hurry.”

At the last ball she had attended with her mother, the woman had taken it upon herself to declare the quartet inept and chose to host a one-woman opera show. Loudly and sorely off-key. Lavinia had spent the entire afternoon moping around their house, lamenting the loss of her husband and complaining that her life was not supposed to be the way that it was. Mother liked to blame all their woes and misfortunes on the premature loss of her husband. Though Cordelia personally did not see how missing a shoe or misplacing a teacup could have anything to do with her father’s death.

It was Cordelia’s fourth unsuccessful season in the marriage mart, so her mother’s embarrassing behavior was unlikely to be the reason she did not take a husband for another summer—but that did not mean that the humiliation would be any easier to endure.

Slowly, casually, Cordelia wove through the socializing bodies without paying much attention to whom she passed or to whatever gossip they were sharing with one another. Such things were of very little interest to her on a good day and even less so now.

Her mother was wearing a blue dress; she could remember that much. But nearly everybody, including herself, had chosen to wear some shade of blue this evening. The hour was growing late, and whatever the Blithe family had planned for their grand end-of-ball celebration was bound to begin at any moment.

Glass shattered on the opposite side of the ballroom, and Cordelia’s heart plummeted into her stomach. “Not again.”

Every possible worst-case scenario of her mother being an irritating lush ran through her mind at double speed as Cordelia gathered her skirts in her hands and started for the commotion as quickly as she possibly could. She wove through the people while attempting to make her slight frame smaller so that she would not draw unwanted attention to herself. There was nothing that she hated more than being the center of attention.

I suppose I have to thank Mama for that.

In her haste, she did not account for those around her—nor the man who stepped into her path. Cordelia stumbled, her ankle threatening to roll as her knees buckled. The man gasped, nearly fumbling his wine glass all down his shirt, and had to drop it entirely. His arm caught her about the waist, steadying her.

“I am so sorry, my lord!” Cordelia gushed, attempting to smooth down her dress and bend to grab the wine goblet—and the man did the same, causing their foreheads to bump together painfully. She recoiled, pressing the heel of her palm into her forehead and hissing in discomfort.

“It would seem that clumsiness is not a thing that one grows out of, after all,” the man said kindly, a smile in his voice.

Only then did she realize that she knew him, fortunate indeed. “Matthew?” Cordelia squinted through one eye, ensuring that she was not seeing things. He stood, holding out his hand to help her up with a grin. “Oh, Cousin! I thought that you were still in the country! I had no idea that we were to expect you this Season! What happy news!”

“It would be, but it seems that just as in childhood, our bumbling is worse around one another.” He laughed, putting her more at ease about the faux pas.

“It would seem so! Though, I do not know how many times I can possibly apologize for the accident that ended in you breaking your arm.”

“The ground came out of nowhere; I still maintain that.” Matthew grinned and placed his empty goblet on a passing footman’s tray. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, might I ask? If it can wait, I would be sorely tempted to test fate by asking you to dance.”

Cordelia could not help but laugh. “Sir, I fear your feet shall never recover from being trampled!”

Her cousin was such a kind man. It would bring her joy to dance with him, and she knew it. Were her mother somebody else, were they in a less influential setting, then perhaps she could have allowed herself to be a touch more indulgent. Cordelia answered with a sigh. “How about we leave this for a different time? I am my mother’s keeper this evening, it would seem.”

“How do you mean?”

It was a perfectly logical question to ask her, and yet she found herself hesitating. How was she supposed to explain the shift in her mother’s behavior? Before their father passed, they were a beloved and well-respected couple. How was she supposed to tell him that her mother was falling into a drinking stupor? The habit was bad enough, but actually voicing it out loud? She was not sure she could do that.

Matthew’s smile softened, his eyes impossibly kind as he easily shifted the conversation. “Perhaps we have a good deal more to catch up on than I originally assumed?”

“That… is one way of putting it.” Cordelia smiled softly. She was beyond grateful that he was not pressing the issue further.

“You will agree that there is no time like the present? You shall give yourself wrinkles if you keep frowning like this all the time, Cousin.” Matthew reached up, rubbing two fingers into the lines on her forehead as he urged her to calm down. “You deserve to have a little fun as well. Whatever tragedy that your mother is concocting can surely wait a few moments?”

As if on cue, a loud crash resounded from the other end of the room. Cordelia cast her cousin a pitying look, and he released her hand, nodding in understanding as she hurried toward the sound. There was a collective gasp from those around them, the crowd of gossiping busybodies moving to circle around the spectacle that filled Cordelia with shame and dread the moment it came into focus.

There her mother was, her hand on Lord Blithe’s chest, their host, as she slurred her words. “You know, my lord, I have always wondered what it might be like should you let your guard down.” Lavinia’s hands moved up to his collar, running a finger brazenly along his skin as if to loosen the fabric right there in front of all of these people. “I think that we could make this evening a good deal more fun. Interested?” Her cheeks were wine-reddened as she grinned. Lavinia’s eyes were half-lidded as she ran her tongue over her lips.

Shame curled low in Cordelia’s belly as the crowd noticed her, glancing from her to her mother and then hiding behind their fans.

We should have stayed home.

“Lady Salisbury! What do you think you are doing?” Lady Blithe gasped, using her closed fan to smack at Lavinia’s shoulders and arms as she lavished seemingly unwanted attention on the woman’s husband. Lady Blithe was ashen and paling as she glanced at the gawkers around them. This was going to be in every gossip sheet come morning. Both that Lavinia, the embarrassment of the ton , could not contain herself—and that Lady Blithe could no longer keep an eye on her own husband in their home. It would be disastrous.

“Lady Salisbury! Get off of him!” Lady Blithe protested once more; her teeth clenched. She glared daggers at Cordelia’s apologetic and sheepish smile as she moved forward to extricate her mother from the man who was not protesting half as vehemently as he ought to.

“I am so sorry! My mother is too deep in her cups… she is still very bereaved…” The words felt hollow as they left her mouth. She had said them so many times that it was so highly unlikely that anybody was going to believe them anymore.

“Do not speak for me!” Lavinia slurred as she attempted to push her daughter’s steady hands away from her. “I was merely jesting. I t is not my fault that Lady Blithe is too self-absorbed to see that her husband is miserable.” She practically sneered at the hostess’ name as she waved her hands in a grand, dismissive gesture.

“Mama, please ,” Cordelia hissed, hoping that her mother would take the hint. However, her gut told her that would not be the case.

“Get out. I knew that I never should have invited you. I thought that I was doing you and your mother a favor by inviting you! This is the thanks that I get?” Lady Blithe hissed.

It might have been kinder had she simply slapped her.

“Lord Blithe does not wish me to leave, does he?” Lavinia continued shamelessly winking at the hostess’ husband—who was not protesting nearly enough to satisfy his wife’s outrage.

“Of course, we are leaving! I… apologize once more, my lady,” Cordelia muttered lamely, her face burning as she half-dragged her mother through the ballroom, who giggled like a mad woman.

Cool night air wrapped around them the moment they were outside, and Cordelia shuddered against the assault on her senses. Lavinia curled into her daughter’s arms.

“Cordi… It is so cold…” Lavinia muttered, attempting to siphon warmth from her daughter. “Where is your father? If only… if only he had not left me, then he could have been here to keep me warm…”

“Father is gone, Mama. You know this,” Cordelia whispered, attempting to keep her temper in line as she waited for their carriage to be brought around to take them home.

“Selfish…” Lavinia hiccupped. “Selfish bastard. He left me all alone!”

She ought not to be angry with her mother. It was not her fault that her husband had killed himself. Their fortune had practically dried up overnight. Year after year, Cordelia had failed to secure a suitable husband who might have aided in their misfortunes. She knew that the fake tears were coming next. Lady Salisbury, when this drunk, tended to follow a predictable pattern.

A single hot tear rolled down Cordelia’s cheek but she quickly wiped it away.

When was it going to be her turn to mourn? Was this truly going to be her fate? A spinster forever destined to run after her mother, cleaning up all of her messes?

“I will have my revenge, Cordi, I will. That worthless man never should have left me!” Lavinia wailed, her voice carrying through the night and drawing the attention of the various footmen standing by their carriages.

“Could you cease, please? Just for a moment? You are the selfish one here!” Cordelia whispered sternly.

Lavinia turned, ready to fuss at her daughter, before seeing the look on her face. One solemn enough to sober her for just a moment.

“You are humiliating me. You are humiliating yourself, and you do not seem to care! I cannot fix this, Mama, you are ruining…” She paused, wiping another tear from her eye. “It is bad enough to insist on coming where we are so clearly not wanted. But, to drag me down with you?”

Lavinia’s mouth floundered as she struggled for words. She tried to stand on her own without leaning on her daughter for support and failed. No doubt she was ready to give another long-winded, blubbering excuse about how her actions were justified and that Cordelia simply could not understand what it was like to have to live with such a broken heart.

“No man shall ever wish to marry into such a disgraced family. What man will tolerate such belligerent behavior at all social events, Mama? You… you are hurting me with this behavior,” Cordelia said. There was no telling how much her mother was going to understand. There was no way to know if she would even remember their conversation in the morning after.

Cordelia dared to glance down at her mother, hoping for some flicker of understanding in the shorter woman’s eyes—but only defiance reflected there.

“Take me home at once! You cannot speak to me like this! I am your mother!” Lavinia started, her short burst of anger and indignation fading into child-like whines. “I am tired , Cordelia.”

The crunch of wheels on gravel was like a lifeline to her as their carriage was pulled around. They did not have much staff left to them as their estate was bordering disrepair, but at least their horses were still healthy enough to lead a carriage. For now, at least. Panic and dread overcame her—as it always did when she allowed herself to think about the future. Something her mother seemed to have wholly and utterly given up on.

With the assistance of their footman, she helped her mother into the carriage like a dutiful daughter.

She longed to go back inside and pretend that this was all some bad dream. But she was becoming less and less welcome among her peers with every passing week. Even her friends could not show their support for her in the ton anymore. Soon, she and her mother would be all alone—destitute.

As the carriage pulled away, her mother’s head hit the side of the carriage wall, her eyes already closed. Sleep would hold Lavinia for a day or two, Cordelia hoped.

We cannot go on like this.