Chapter 5
“ O h, my goodness! Is that…?” Cordelia could not help herself. Her words were nearly squealed as the first thing that she saw the moment the carriage had stopped was the largest greenhouse that she had ever seen in her life. She did not wait for the footman to escort her down, nor did she wait for permission to leave before she hurried over the grounds. She gathered her skirts in her hands so that movement was easier as she started to head off of the path, only to be stopped by a hand around her bicep.
“The greenhouse is off limits.”
She felt as if water had been dumped over her head. “What do you mean? I could work miracles in a greenhouse like that! You cannot even imagine the sort of rare flowers that I could bring to life with that much space and light!”
Working in a garden had always been her happy place. It was the one thing that no matter what was happening in her life around her, there was always that. There was something cathartic about working with her hands in the soil and knowing that she was bringing something to life, helping it to thrive. Her smile was so wide it was making her cheeks hurt. Surely, the duke could be reasoned with. After all, she had just married him—she had come all this way; was he truly going to deny her first desire?
“I said the greenhouse is off limits to you,” the duke repeated.
There was something in his gaze that both gave her pause and deflated her at the same time. She could ask why; she could ask what the consequences would be. But something in his eyes stopped her. There was a story there, one that she did not know if it would be wise to go searching for just yet.
“There are a great many diversions available to you inside the house. I am certain that, while you are still adjusting, you will hardly have time for gardening anyway,” he continued.
Gardening was the sort of thing that she would make time for.
“Do you have some sort of animosity toward plants?” Cordelia asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Hardly.”
The front doors to the massive estate opened, and the butler came walking out, a couple of maids behind him. It was a far cry from the sort of formal presentations that she was otherwise accustomed to when visiting estates like this.
“Your Grace?” The butler asked, looking very confused.
“Ah, yes. Monty, may I present my new duchess? Lady Cordelia, this is Monty, our butler, and some of our staff. The housekeeper is likely around the back at the moment. So, you will have to meet her later. Feel free to pick any of the female staff to be your lady’s maid or whatever you might need,” the duke said with a dismissive lift of his hand.
“You got married, Your Grace?” Monty asked, surprise evident in his features.
“That is what I just said, is it not?”
“You what ?” A female voice demanded from the darkness of the doorway. “Dorian, you did not go and get married without so much as sending a letter home. You did not even care to invite me? What in the heavens is wrong with you?”
Oh, Cordelia sorely hoped that was not his mistress.
“You ought not to have been so secretive!” The woman chastised.
However, the duke seemed content enough to allow her temper. Interesting.
“It is lovely to meet you,” the woman turned to her, pulling Cordelia into a firm hug without waiting to be properly introduced. “Since my brother has more rudeness than sense, I am Mary.”
Oh, she liked her already.
“Cordelia. It is a pleasure to meet you!”
“Likewise. My rascal of a son is somewhere in here. Well, I suppose that makes him your rascal of a nephew now, does it not?” Mary chuckled, linking her arm through Cordelia’s. Mary did not so much as cast a backward glance at her brother as she pedaled the pair of them away and into the house.
“I think you and I are going to be fast friends,” Cordelia giggled. She, however, did cast a single backward glance to see the look of faint irritation on her new husband’s face.
“I certainly hope so. I have wanted a friend to help liven this place up for a while! I know that my brother can be somewhat… difficult to handle from time to time. But the trick is to not let him know when he gets to you. It drives him mad.”
Cordelia laughed, already thinking about all the ways she could put such an inside tip to good use.
“Where should we start, hm? How about a tour?” Mary offered.
“I would love that!”
When Cordelia looked back once more, the duke was already gone.
“Uncle, look what I have made!” Georgie’s small voice never seemed to slow down. Of course, Mary insisted on him sharing every meal with them. She claimed that it was the only way to have him learn the best ways to conduct himself in society. She had a point, but he had a sinking suspicion that Mary just secretly liked watching the fraying cords of Dorian’s temper threatening to snap.
Every inane conversation felt like a test.
He loved his nephew. There was no denying that he was intelligent and high spirited… very high-spirited. Dorian’s gaze rolled over to where Georgie seemed to have constructed some sort of building on his plate out of his glazed carrots and the bit of potato left on his plate. He was toying with his food. Mary flushed a deep red and immediately scooted her son’s chair closer to her own. He could not hear what she was whispering to the boy, but little Georgie started to sink lower into his chair.
“Auntie Cordelia! Look! I can make my peas fly!”
Dorian watched as the young man loaded a pea onto the bucket of his spoon and launched it toward the construction that he had made on his plate.
Only, it did not go onto his construction. It bypassed it with such impressive distance—all the way into Dorian’s soup bowl.
Mary arched a brow, giving her son a disapproving look, but Cordelia only laughed. “Quite the feat, Georgie. Though I am not sure if your peas were meant to travel so far.”
As if either one of them needed to be encouraging the other.
Mary leaned forward, whispering in a fashion that was very much meant for Dorian to hear her. “If he keeps this up, we will be serving dinner from the ceiling before long.”
“At least it would make for an interesting conversation piece.”
Georgie took their lack of reprimand as a clear challenge and happily sat up on his knees in his chair as he excitedly bounced in place. “I can make them go even higher. Watch!”
Mary sighed, seeming to have surrendered any efforts that she might have had to eat. She cast an exasperated look at Cordelia. “He has not sat still for more than five minutes all day. I do not know where he gets the energy.”
“Perhaps you should start serving whatever it is he has been eating. Might perk the rest of us up.” Cordelia only grinned. “Heaven knows I could use the energy boost.” Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. Perhaps it would have been wiser to have simply had dinner sent up to his study. The women seemed to be getting along just fine, and as they were dominating the whole conversation apart from when Georgie interjected himself, Dorian was clearly not needed there.
“—He is just testing the limits, Mary. I have heard that little boys do that. You did say he was up early?”
“Before dawn. I thought letting him run around the garden would wear him out, but look at him now. I am starting to wonder if he is part squirrel.”
“If you find him hiding nuts in your shoes, you will know for sure. Imagine the havoc he could wreak with a broom instead of a spoon.”
“You have no idea. The last time I asked him to help in the stables, he tried to ‘groom’ the hens with a rake! I swear, he is the reason our stable hand began losing his hair.”
“He is creative, I will give him that…”
Dorian could not even keep up with the conversations that they were having, they were bounding from one topic to another so quickly that the pair of them might as well have been speaking in a foreign language entirely.
Cordelia caught his attention again, her head tilting back as she laughed. “If this is what he is like at dinner, I can only imagine how bedtime must be.”
Mary groaned none too quietly. “Oh, you do not even want to know. It is like negotiating with a tiny emperor. ‘Just one more story, Mama, just one more biscuit...’ No nanny can handle him.”
Georgie’s foot started to tap against the closest leg of the table nearest to him, shaking the goblets and silverware as he did so. He hummed an unfamiliar tune, once again wholly absorbed with doing anything other than eating the food that was in front of him.
Cordelia sighed, leaning back in her chair as she watched him. “He really is a force of nature. I feel sorry for his nanny and governess.”
Mary nodded, “Well, that… He is a force I can hardly control. If he were any more energetic, I would have to tie him to the chair.”
“I am sure that could be arranged,” Cordelia agreed impishly.
Dorian had done the right thing in bringing her there, had he not? It was still the wisest choice to have taken her as his bride. Was it not? She did not seem displeased to bond with his sister or nephew at least.
So, why did he still feel so guilty?
It was not as if he had simply abandoned her mother to fend for herself. He had already ensured that she had adequate care and assistance. She could drink if she wished, and the staff that he had employed for her would also ensure that she did not make a fool of herself. He did not wish to have anything or anybody in a position to embarrass his wife ever again.
Across the table from him, Cordelia seemed amused by Georgie’s antics. No matter how Mary attempted to settle him down, he was only being riled up further from their attention. That was all that he truly wanted: attention.
The tension in Dorian’s jaw was so tight it nearly pulsated. This was perhaps the hardest part about having Georgie around. He knew very well how this situation would have been handled by his father. The late duke was everything that Dorian did not wish to be. And yet, the impulse to demand that Georgie sit down and behave himself or else was there. He hated it.
“How about we make a bargain?” Cordelia’s voice interrupted Georgie’s fit of giggles. “If you can finish your supper while pretending to be the perfect gentleman, then I shall allow you to show me all of your toys.”
Georgie’s eyes widened. “All of them?”
Cordelia nodded. “I am a woman of my word.”
Georgie picked at the food on his plate, a frown sprouting into a sour expression. “I do not know if I wish to be a proper gentleman. It’s boring.”
“Well, you shall have to be one when you grow up. So, it is always best that you practice. Shall I tell you the easiest way?” Cordelia offered, there was a strange inflection in her voice that Dorian was not quite sure if he liked. It unnerved him.
Georgie nodded happily and scooted closer to her.
“You see your uncle? You simply must do exactly as he does. Do not worry; I know that he will be quite proud of you. Shall I show you?” Cordelia sat up straighter in her chair, pushing her shoulders back and tilting her head up just a touch to almost appear snobby. “Start here, and then you must arch your brow and gaze down upon all of those around you. Must take small bites, appearing bored and arrogant at every moment.”
Georgie copied her instantly.
Was this truly what she thought of him? It was impossible. “That looks nothing like me.”
Cordelia grinned. “I disagree. Now, move your hands like this, do not say a word, and never look at your plate, of course.”
She was getting very carried away with her gestures. He wanted to think that it was simply to ensure that Georgie did what he was supposed to do, but he was not entirely certain on that front either. If she was attempting to ridicule him, she was on the right path.
“Do you disagree, husband?” Cordelia asked. “If you have something to add, we are all ears.”
What did she seem so happy about? He had every urge to drag her right out of this room and bend her over his knee for such provocative comments. Though, that thought was enough to calm his nerves a little. He wondered what she might even do in a situation like that. No doubt, the thought had never crossed her mind.
Tempting.
Mary laughed. The sound was short and immediately cut off by her pressing her hand into her mouth to smother any other offensive noises. “Apologies,” she muttered, flicking her eyes at Dorian. “He just… he truly resembled you for a moment, Brother.”
They were attempting to lure him into their little game.
As if he would ever sit here and allow himself to participate in the mockery of himself.
Almost against his will, Dorian’s eyes rolled in the direction of his nephew. His shoulders tensed.
They are right.
This would not stand.
Dorian pushed himself away from the table and dropped his cloth napkin on his plate. He was not very hungry in the first place. Let them think that he was rude all that they wished. It was likely better that way, regardless.
It would be easier for her that way. If she grew fond of him on a real level, she would be crushed when she found out the truth about him.
Cordelia could not come to like the man who killed her father.