Chapter Seventeen
Cordelia was still buzzing after what she’d uncovered the previous evening. She had not slept the entire night, already sitting at her dressing table when she heard someone knock at the door.
“Come in!” she said, applying rosewater to her cheeks.
Portia entered the bedroom and cocked her head. “Well, don’t we look cheery this morning?”
Cordelia turned to face her sister, smiling. “I think I know where we need to look for the next clue.”
Portia’s mouth dropped open. “You don’t say?” she replied, then squealed with joy, throwing her fists in the air. “That riddle was written by a Nichols and was meant to be solved by one!”
“Not so loud!” Cordelia warned, but she also wanted to whoop with joy. The past weeks at Hollyhead had been far too histrionic for her taste. More than anything, she was ready for things to go back to normal.
“Here,” she said, standing up from the dressing table and walking over to her bed. Reaching under her pillow, Cordelia produced the sheaf of papers that she’d nicked from the book last night. She handed them to Portia.
“What are you on about?” her sister asked, drawing her eyebrows together as she leafed through the pages. “There’s nothing on these.”
“Not now,” Cordelia began, but there was another sharp knock at the door.
“I’m in the middle of getting dressed,” she called out.
“The duke would like to see you, my lady.” Mrs. Norris sounded urgent through the door.
Cordelia sighed heavily. “I’d best not keep him waiting,” she said. “I’ll explain when I come back.”
Portia rolled her eyes and sat on the bed. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything to tell,” she complained.
“I won’t be more than ten minutes,” Cordelia said as she opened the door. “Thank you, Mrs. Norris,” she said, nodding to the older woman, who eyed her carefully.
“His Grace seems to be in an awful state today,” she mentioned as Cordelia closed the door behind her and started down the hall.
“How do you mean?”
Mrs. Norris seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “Well, a letter arrived this morning and then Mr. Peverill left quite quickly, said he was heading to London. God knows on what sort of business, but I don’t think it can be any good.”
Cordelia made sure her lips did not betray her as Mrs. Norris told her the news. With Peverill gone and Justin having to put more distance between them, it left them able to search the grounds unencumbered. Perhaps this would all be over sooner than she anticipated.
“Do you think the two of them had a falling out?” Cordelia asked.
“Oh, I have no idea, my lady.” Mrs. Norris was not particularly good at gossip, which in some ways made her an excellent chatelaine, and quite tiresome in others.
“No problem. I am sure it will all be sorted out soon,” she said as they reached the door to the duke’s office.
Mrs. Norris looked uneasy, but she nodded her head in assent. “I’ll be just out here,” she said.
Cordelia knocked on the red door.
“Come in!”
The duke’s voice did not sound particularly annoyed or strained. When she entered the office, she could scarcely see him behind multiple stacks of papers that were piled precariously on his desk; several rocks were strewn across the papers, along with vials of what looked to be soil.
“Goodness!” she exclaimed.
“Quite,” he replied, standing up. “I’m currently sorting through the late duke’s accounts.
I’ve had word this morning that the family that is currently inhabiting the small cottage is willing to pay rent on the place.
I’ve had my solicitor sell off chunks of land there as well.
Hardly enough to cover everything, but it will keep our fingers in the dam for the time being. ”
Cordelia was nearly rendered speechless. Justin looked as though he had been at work the entire evening. His shirt was rumpled, his cravat loosened, and wisps of dark hair were falling over his brow. He had never looked so handsome.
“That’s… well, you’ve accomplished so much since you’ve arrived,” Cordelia choked out.
“I hardly understand how your circle makes plans to go shooting, much less take time for tea,” he said, his mouth in a hard line.
“It’s clear that sorting this endeavor will take longer than expected.
You know my secretary is coming from London, but I have also written to my employers.
I’ll be taking a leave of absence from my firm. ”
“So, you will be at Hollyhead past the ball?” Cordelia asked, trying to stuff down the small flutter of hope she felt in her chest.
“It appears so. God willing, the whole damn place will sell by autumn.”
The words sliced through her as he spoke them. Any sentiment she might have felt fled after that.
“Why have you called me here, Your Grace?” she asked, acerbically.
Justin raised one dark brow as he regarded her, as if to say so that’s how it’s going to be. She pushed her shoulders down and clasped her hands behind her back, assuming her fighting position.
“I’m sending your sisters away in anticipation of the ball,” he said, with a sigh. “I’m going to be inviting workmen and potential buyers to see the grounds and the home. I do not want them to be distressed.”
Cordelia felt as though she’d been slapped. A large lump formed at the back of her throat, making it difficult for her to swallow.
“I know you can’t be happy about this, but it’s for the best. We should put an end to this charade.
I’ve been clear to you since I first arrived that I wanted nothing to do with the estate.
I have always planned on selling,” he said, his voice hard and tone cool.
She’d not seen him like this since the unpleasantness at the top of Hollyhead’s road.
“Peverill has gone to London to drum up interest for the property.”
“I…” she began, but she paused. Cordelia had no idea where to commence. She’d only last night uncovered the final clue, the one that would lead them to the treasure. She could not believe how quickly her good luck had changed.
“I know this must be difficult to hear—”
“You can’t send them away,” Cordelia said, finally finding the words. “Do not send my sisters away; it would kill them.”
Justin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you not think it would be worse to parade potential buyers through their family home?” he asked, his voice becoming gentler.
“I will make sure they are in hand for that!” Cordelia protested. “I have managed everything well enough thus far, haven’t I?”
Justin’s eyes grew wide. “Cordelia,” he said, “managed well? I’m sorry, but I fail to see that on all counts.”
Cordelia gasped. “How can you say that? Have I not been aiding you in the preparations for the ball? What about introducing you to the farmers? I have carted you over every inch of Hollyhead!”
Justin regarded her after her outburst, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You are overstepping,” Cordelia said, feeling the familiar ice water rush through her veins. All of the warmth, the friendship she’d ever felt toward him had been replaced by a cold dart in the middle of her chest. How dare he? How dare he?
“Overstepping?” Justin said. He braced himself on the edge of the massive oak desk.
Her father’s desk. “Portia is bloody-well ready to kill everyone she encounters, she’s so angry.
Hermione can barely look a stranger in the eye, and Beatrice is running wild all over the estate.
So yes, if trying to remedy the situation means overstepping, that’s what I will do. ”
To her supreme embarrassment, Cordelia felt tears threatening.
“Cordelia,” he began, lowering the volume of his voice. “You’ve been well and truly tested. And you’ve held things together so well, but you can start to let go. Your… tunnel vision over saving Hollyhead is blinding you to the fact that your sisters need help.”
You need help, is what he was saying. You’ve failed. You need me.
“You are sorely mistaken, Your Grace,” she spat. “You may know how irrigation systems work, but you know nothing about my family. And you never will. So I suggest you leave their care and well-being to me.”
Justin sighed, running a hand through his dark locks.
Cordelia had one last bargaining chip. “I know about the last clue.”
Justin snapped his head up. “What?”
Cordelia nodded her head, striding toward him, almost tripping over a stack of farmer’s almanacs. “I found it last night.”
“I suppose you aren’t going to tell me?”
“I would,” she started, “if you would promise not to send my sisters away.”
He banged a fist on the desk, making some of the rocks rattle. “Goddamnit, woman! There is no treasure. One clue will lead to another clue which might lead to another clue.”
“How do you know that?” she cried, feeling a few tears spill down her cheeks. “We are so close I can feel it! I know it.”
Justin paused, taking a deep breath. “Cordelia…” he said, trailing off.
He picked up a rock from the desk and ran his fingers along the rough edges.
“I am doing my best. I have to be fair to you and to your sisters. But you have to be fair to me as well. What if there is no treasure? What will become of you then?”
Cordelia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “This entire time I’ve known you to be an ill-mannered, sharp-tongued man. But I never once took you for a coward.”
Justin’s mouth dropped open at that. Before he could respond, she fled the room.