Chapter Thirteen
Justin watched as Cordelia showed Bea the difference between a back stitch and a stem stitch.
She patiently put her fingers over the girl’s as they pulled colored thread through an embroidery hoop.
Bea looked ready to tear her hair out, but Cordelia kept an even temper, infusing the situation with a calm steadiness.
He felt something akin to homesickness, though for what, he was not quite sure.
“My late husband was an excellent shot, mind you, Your Grace,” Lady Billings quipped.
She’d been on a full run of conversation for the past twenty minutes.
A simple “oh” or “how interesting” and she was right off again, regaling the room with stories about her son and husband.
“We always hosted the largest hunting parties this side of Hertfordshire. Will, the girls’ brother, and my Rhys were raised on them. ”
“Is that so?” Peverill asked.
Lady Billings has been positively scandalized when she realized the infamous Henry Peverill, the bastard son of Sir John Ashbury and his Haitian mistress, was a close friend of the new duke.
But, like most women, Peverill had won her over halfway through the main course at dinner.
Now she took his teasing in stride, chuckling alongside him and thoroughly enjoying his attentions.
That left Justin to examine Cordelia Nichols from across the room.
Hermione was tapping out a tune on the piano, albeit very lightly.
Portia was puzzling over a book in the corner, occasionally jumping into the conversation to spurn something Peverill had said, and Cordelia was busying herself with Bea.
The air was fairly serene after weeks of injuries and concealed identities and hidden treasure.
It was nice to be at peace for a moment, which was in short supply around the Nichols ladies.
The sun was just beginning to set, and it spilled golden light in the sitting room, illuminating the gilded wainscoting that decorated the ceiling.
Cordelia smiled when Bea finally did the stitch correctly.
Leaning over, her thick head of hair dipped into a stream of light, picking out reddish hues in the dark strands as she kissed Bea’s forehead.
The young girl giggled, swatting her eldest sister away.
Justin felt his fingers twitch as he had the urge to grasp a piece of charcoal and sketch her in that scene.
“What do you think about that, Wright?” Peverill asked.
“Sorry, what’s that?” Justin snapped himself back to the present moment, turning to face his friend. Lady Billings’s cheeks were positively blossoming as she regarded him.
“You should be the one to host the hunt this year, Your Grace!” she said. “It would be perfectly natural for you to do so. It would be an excellent way to make introductions amongst the noble families of this little piece of England.”
“Oh,” Justin began. He noticed that Portia was looking directly at him, her eyes narrowing. “Cor—Lady Cordelia and I were planning on hosting a ball, just before summer truly kicks off. She thought it would be a good way for me to receive proper introductions.”
“An excellent idea, to be sure!” Lady Billings trumpeted. “I am at your disposal, Your Grace, if there’s anything you should need. Perhaps suggestions on who to invite.”
“I thank you kindly, my lady,” Justin replied. “Lady Cordelia has been absolutely indispensable to me in preparing things. At the moment we have matters well in hand, though I will certainly take you up on your offer should needs arise in the future.”
Lady Billings seemed to nod her head, pleased. “Yes, well, I did teach our Cordelia everything she knows. If Rhys were here, he’d be so pleased with how she’s getting on.”
Looking back at Cordelia, he could see that she’d tensed up at Rhys’s name.
The color went out of her cheeks enough for him to notice the change.
Was she not pleased with that man? Justin had not heard anything back from the earl, but he’d be happy to send him back to whatever Riviera he was currently stationed at.
“Lady Billings,” Portia piped up. “Will you tell me of how you planned the shooting weekends? I know you believe in a strict itinerary for your guests.”
Justin smiled to himself as he recognized the attempt to change the subject.
“Absolutely, my dear child,” Lady Billings said, launching the company into a discussion of whether port or brandy was better served in the courtyard after a hunting party returned.
Justin saw his chance. Standing up from the settee, he made his way over to where Cordelia and Bea were sitting, taking his place on a chair next to them.
“May I see it?” Justin asked, nodding to Bea’s embroidery.
“Oh,” Bea said, blushing from cheek to jowl. “It’s really not very good!”
“Bea,” Cordelia chided lightly.
Taking a deep breath, Bea stood and handed Justin the embroidery hoop. For a moment, he could not make out what the large triangular shapes were in the middle of the soft beige cloth, but with the bits of green and taupe dunes, he made a likely guess. “Are these the pyramids of Giza?”
Bea’s face lit up like a lamp. “Yes!” she replied, excitedly. “Menkaure, Khafre, and…”
“Khufu,” Justin finished.
Both Bea and Cordelia cocked their heads at him. A family trait, for Portia did it as well when she was interested in something. “I’ve been. Well, Mr. Peverill and I have, actually. It was nearly ten years ago.”
“Have you really?” Bea asked, clasping her hands together. “It’s a dream of mine to see them one day! Are they as big as they seem in person? Could you venture inside them? Perhaps—”
“The duke can only answer one question at a time, dearest,” Cordelia said. “And it is growing late.”
“Oh Lia! I’m not even tired!” Bea protested.
“Not to worry,” Justin said. “I think I have some architectural drawings of the pyramids, with all of their diameters at my home in London. I will share them with you sometime.”
“I would like that very much!” she replied.
Justin handed her back the piece of embroidery. “You’ve captured their likeness very well,” Justin said. “If you keep at it, we’ll find a place for it somewhere in this house.”
Bea smiled widely at that and then looked at her sister, an eyebrow raised. Cordelia simply laughed and asked her little sister to bid the duke goodnight. Bea curtsied a little clumsily and then was led out of the drawing room by a maid.
“She has been absolutely obsessed with the pyramids recently. Last year it was the coliseum in Rome,” Cordelia said, settling herself back down and arranging her skirts artfully.
“I can understand why,” Justin said. “Though I confess I haven’t made a tour of Italy. I only went where the army stationed me.”
“How long were you a soldier for?” she asked. Justin was surprised that she was making an effort to have a full conversation. On their ride earlier she was decidedly silent. Perhaps she’d tucked away her barbs for him… at least for the time being.
“Five years,” he replied. “And then I went back to Cambridge to earn my specialization in architecture. My professor was able to introduce me to a large firm in London.”
“Which firm is that?”
“Strauss, Gilroy, and Wright.”
“Oh! Is Wright a relation to you?” she said.
“No,” Justin said, amused. “I am one of the partners in the firm.”
“Goodness,” Cordelia replied. Justin did not want to admit that he felt some satisfaction at her surprise. “Are they missing you terribly?”
“Not terribly, though I was in the middle of a few large projects when I was called to leave. I am not sure one can be a duke and an employed architect.”
“You are certainly putting your skills to use here, at Hollyhead,” Cordelia said. “I think many of the famers were quite impressed with the plans you have for this estate.”
“I think they were rather happy to see a familiar face,” Justin said.
Cordelia reddened, picking a piece of lint off her skirt.
“You did very well with them today,” she whispered.
“I confess, I never knew the state of Hollyhead’s finances until the will reading.
I think the tenants are happy to have someone finally listen to them, and to offer a solution to a persistent problem, rather than continue to stall rents and hope for a miracle. ”
“I must admit, Lady Cordelia,” Justin said, “I could have never imagined you saying such words to me when we first met.”
Has your opinion changed of me? It was what he really wanted to ask. Still hung up on your wayward earl?
Instead, she shrugged her shoulders. “I would not be so quick, Mr. Wright. We still have a major construction project to complete and a ball to plan. There’s plenty of time for me to snatch the sentiment back.”
At that, Justin laughed and Cordelia joined in. “Well, if we are to survive these things with our truce intact, there is one thing I must absolutely ask of you.”
“And what could that be?” she questioned with a glint in her deep brown eyes.
“Call me Justin.”
Cordelia smiled and Justin felt a very familiar heat wash over him.
“Cordelia,” she replied finally, holding out her hand. “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot.”
“More like someone was thrown off the wrong horse,” Justin said, taking her palm in his and shaking it firmly.
To his relief, the corners of her mouth turned up in a sly smile.
“What could you two be discussing that is so comical?” Peverill chimed in. “Care to let us join in?”
“Not on your life,” Justin replied, which earned a grin from Peverill and two sets of glares from Portia and Lady Billings. Standing, he offered Cordelia his arm and she took it readily.