Chapter Twenty-Two
Cordelia managed to slip out of her bedroom before anyone noticed.
Tiptoeing through the house, she ran into Dolly in the kitchens who made her a cup of tea and a large fuss over her ankle.
Before Dolly could fetch Mrs. Norris, Cordelia fled through the doors into the stable yard, where she yanked a knit shawl over her shoulders and gritted her teeth as she dragged her sore ankle toward the reflecting pond.
It was early morning, the day still quiet as the farmers readied their animals for work. It would have been the perfect day for a ride and Cordelia suddenly felt a deep wave of disappointment wash over her, knowing that she would have to be more restrained than before.
It wasn’t just the riding that she would have to put aside.
Now that the treasure hunt was over, she would have to lean into planning the ball and being an excellent hostess, with Rhys and Lady Billings milling about on the neighboring estate.
Other lords and ladies would also be filtering into Hertfordshire from London, hoping to catch wind of scandals and other salacious gossip.
There would be invitations to teas and dinners and lawn games to field in the next few weeks before they threw open the doors to Hollyhead for all of the ton to see.
Cordelia swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat as she spread out the shawl on the grassy knoll before the reflecting pond.
She could hardly believe that it was almost a month since Justin had inflicted himself on her life.
In a year of constant upheaval, she’d managed to find herself some respite in the midst of the chaotic few weeks, riding, speaking, and laughing more freely than she ever had in the company of a man.
Too free, she thought to herself. Indeed, she’d indulged herself in pleasures reserved for other women, the kinds who did not care for their reputations.
“It ends here,” she said to herself, desperate to draw a line in the sand. From now on, she would maintain an exterior appearance of calm and grace, not allowing anyone or anything to penetrate it.
Shielding her eyes against the glare of the rising sun, she saw Rhys up ahead aboard a chestnut gelding. He was graceful and lithe as he rode, tipping his hat to her as he approached. But that was Rhys in all things, charming and amiable.
“Good morning,” he said, dismounting when he got close enough.
“Good morning,” Cordelia replied, standing.
“You don’t need to move yourself on my account,” he replied, taking off his riding gloves.
Cordelia just shrugged her shoulders. For some reason, she felt shy around Rhys, which had never happened before.
A neighbor and friend, they had been raised together.
Even after those few stolen moments in the Halton hothouse, they’d been able to go back to the ease of their relationship.
But Rhys had been out of her life for nearly five years, and today she was feeling that distance.
“I’ve missed you,” he said softly, doing his best to break the tension. Coming to stand in front of her, he kissed her cheek.
Surprised at the contact, she blushed and shrugged away. Not meeting his gaze, she gestured to the path. “Shall we?” she asked.
Rhys half smiled. “Lead the way.”
Cordelia leaned on his arm as they promenaded around the reflecting pond. A magpie cried as she let the silence grow between them. Cordelia supposed she was being rude, but for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I’m sorry I was not there for the funeral,” Rhys said. He did not meet her gaze as he spoke, instead studying the pond.
“You were missed,” Cordelia replied. “But I understand. Will’s death was difficult… for all of us.”
Rhys took in a deep breath. “You have a lot to forgive me for, Lia. But I want to let you know that I have arrived home with the intention of doing the right thing… for you and your sisters.”
Cordelia’s heart began to pound and she felt bile rising in her throat.
“Did you see that the new duke is making improvements to the property?” she ground out.
Rhys looked down at her, eyebrow raised. “Well, yes, I had heard that. Actually, it was on that subject I hoped to speak to you about.”
Cordelia’s mouth went dry, trying to find something to say that would stop him. But her mouth refused to obey her and instead it hung open.
“My mother has the ability to release more funds to me. We have an agreement that on the date of our marriage, I would have the means to purchase Hollyhead House.”
Cordelia stopped walking, gripping onto Rhys’s arm for support. “What?”’
“I’ve heard that the new duke is not interested in keeping the manor and its estate. Mother has money put aside. We could afford the sale.” Rhys’s eyebrows drew into a furrow. “Does that not please you?”
Cordelia did not know what to think. She’d expected Rhys’s proposal all along.
It would secure her future, as well as that of her sisters’.
Portia would not have to marry, Hermione could continue to enjoy botany, and Bea could run wild to her heart’s content.
And to boot, Hollyhead would be included.
It was the perfect solution, so why was there a loud, resounding NO chiming in her head?
And then there was another voice that rose up. I think marriage should only ever be an indulgence of love.
Pulling away, Cordelia looked up at Rhys. “Do you love me?” she blurted out.
Rhys blinked, unable to conceal the shock on his face. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, shaking his head, as though he’d heard her wrong.
“Do you love me?” she repeated, determined not to break his gaze.
“Lia…” he started, then paused, as though needing to gather his words. “Lia, I always assumed that this would be the way of things.”
“That wasn’t what I asked you.”
Rhys chuckled, doffing his hat and tucking a wayward strand of golden hair behind his ear. The gesture would have made her heart flutter a few years ago, but the illusion had been broken. Cordelia could clearly see that behind his bemused expression, he was broken.
“I would ask you to consider our friendship,” Rhys said. “Does that not count for anything?”
She wasn’t sure if she could answer that. But the one truth that had pervaded this entire conversation suddenly became quite apparent. Rhys did not want to marry her.
“Rhys,” Cordelia began, “we were so young… We have both changed. I don’t want you to feel obligated based on promises we made when we were practically children.”
“I can see you’re still the noble creature you were when I left you,” he replied. Cordelia scoffed at that; he didn’t know the half of it.
“But this has become bigger than the both of us,” he continued. “Lia… my mother has threatened to cut me off if I don’t go through with this marriage.”
Cordelia’s head began to spin. Rhys reached out to steady her. “What?” she asked again. “How could she possibly threaten that? You’re the eldest son!”
“She’s bringing a hammer down on me ever since…
ever since… Well, I’m sure by now you know.
All of the gossips over town have been nattering on about it for ages.
The truth is, Lia, I am in love with her.
And I will do whatever it takes to protect her.
She won’t survive without my continued patronage. ”
“Oh, Rhys,” Cordelia whispered. So, the Italian ballet dancer was more than a mistress; she’d captured his poor, broken heart.
Rhys gripped onto her forearms. “Cordelia, please. I need you to accept me.”
When she didn’t answer, Rhys pulled her closer. “I know that I am offering you half a man, but think about your house and your family. You will have them both, Lia.”
There were too many conflicting emotions whirling about in her head. Your sisters will be safe, she reasoned, but there was something tugging on her heart, stopping her from agreeing to this proposal. Other women got much less in such arrangements. Could she not be happy with Rhys?
“Lady Cordelia!”
Rhys released his grip on her arms, taking a step back as they both turned to watch Mrs. Norris waving frantically from the end of the reflecting pond. “Lady Cordelia!” she called again.
Cordelia began hobbling in her direction. “What is it?” she called. Cordelia was so relieved she could have fallen down weeping.
“It’s the duke!” she said, breathing hard, coming to a stop in front of her and Rhys. “The duke has taken ill with fever.”
“He seemed fine yesterday,” Rhys said, his voice strained.
“It’s the wound, my lord. It must have festered overnight.”
“God,” Cordelia breathed. She’d seen her father taken by a fever earlier this year. They would have to act quickly. “Has the doctor been called?”
“Yes, my lady. But he’s attending a birth and will be unavailable for some time.”
Cordelia could have kissed Mrs. Norris for the interruption. Crises always cleared her head. “Right, we must write to the duke’s mother and send for Henry Peverill.”
Mrs. Norris nodded her head and walked in stride with Cordelia as they marched back to the house, holding out her arm for her to lean on.
“Lia!” Rhys shouted, jogging to catch up with them. “I am sorry to hear of the duke, but might we continue our conversation?”
Cordelia huffed, spinning around to face him. “Rhys, I have a ball to plan and a sick host. I’ll send for you as soon as I have a free moment.”
Rhys’s jaw clenched as he took in her words, but he nodded, placing his hat back on his head. “As you wish, Lady Cordelia.”