Chapter 3
“ M y lady? I apologize for interrupting your work, but we have a visitor.”
A visitor?
Cordelia sat back on her heels and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Her dress was covered in soil. Her brunette hair was unkempt and messy. The very last thing she wished to do in her current state was to entertain guests. They were not expecting callers, so she did not even have the faintest idea of who it could be.
“They are here, now?” Cordelia breathed, resting back on her heels.
“Yes, my lady. Your mother has said to receive them in the parlor.”
Oh no.
Why did it have to be today of all days? The first time that she actually carved out time for herself to be in her garden was bound to be interrupted. Beside her was a basket of bulbs that she was supposed to finish planting. She had not even gotten to the flowers yet, let alone the herbs. The afternoon sun was at its warmest, and Cordelia desperately wished to make the best of the light while she had it. Spending the afternoon indoors, making idle conversation while attempting to ensure that her mother did not make a further fool of them both, did not sound like fun.
Pulling her bonnet from her hair and pushing as many flyaway hairs from her face as she could, she closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky. She let the sun warm her skin and settle her mind. It was the first time she had felt so calm and at peace since the ball.
Might as well get this over with.
Cordelia dropped her garden spade and pulled her gloves from her hands. She untied her apron from her dress and handed it and the gloves to the servant. “Who is it?”
“The Duke of Davenport, my lady,” she answered, folding the apron carefully. “Should I take over the planting for you?”
Cordelia forced a smile that did not quite meet her eyes. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
Either way, the work had to be done today. She just wished she could be the one to do it.
“Shall I help you change first?”
“Change?” Cordelia tilted her head to the side in confusion and then looked down at the state of her dress. The hem was at least two inches in the dirt, and bits clung even to her bodice. Oh, she supposed that would be wise, would it not? The last thing that she needed was to cause further damage to their reputation by the guest reporting that she could not even manage to be clean inside of her own house. “Yes, I will summon Ann to help me, though, so that you can finish up here.”
“As you wish, my lady.” The maid smiled and gave her a small bow.
Cordelia turned to head back inside, attempting to wipe any excess soil or bits of plant that clung to her arms. She pulled her wide-brimmed hat from her head and tucked it under her arm. If she had known that they would have had guests, she would have planned better.
Halfway down the hall, she could hear her mother’s loud giggling. She sounded borderline unhinged for the way she was laughing at her own jokes. When had she started drinking this morning? It felt surreal. Was she truly going to have to look after the woman every hour of every day? She certainly hoped not.
There would be no time to change, after all. She would have to intervene straight away to ensure that the mother did not do anything too scandalous.
She did not wait to be announced before stepping into the parlor; her mother was pouring herself another drink from an empty bottle as she swayed in place. Cordelia crossed directly to her mother, pulled the empty bottle from her hands, and escorted the older woman to the couch to sit.
“Lady Cordelia, I presume?”
Cordelia straightened. “Yes, I apologize for my mother’s behavior—she is… grieving.”
She had said that phrase so many times now that it no longer felt like they were actually words. Only when her mother was settled and grinning did she turn to greet the duke—and was taken aback. He was so tall she only came up to eye level with his chest, and his shoulders were nearly double her size. Clean-shaven, brown hair and the most stunning honey-brown eyes looked back at her. He wore no smile, nothing more than a quizzical brow as he waited for whatever she was going to say next. Though, it took her a moment to remember that she was capable of speech in his presence.
His eyes drank her in, absorbing every detail of her as they raked down her frame. However, the moment he landed on how dirty her dress was, she could practically feel the judgment rolling off of him.
“Did you have business with my mother, Your Grace?”
“Only in so far as I came to ask for your hand in marriage.”
The words were so blunt that she laughed without thinking. The sound was a soft chuff of air between them as she blinked incredulously at him. Perhaps the reaction could be considered a touch rude, but she had been taken so off guard by the suggestion. Surely, he would claim to be joking or teasing her for some reason she could not guess. Only, he did not smile. There was not even the smallest hint of emotion on his handsome face. “Wait, I beg your pardon?”
“No pardon required, my lady. I apologize if this comes as a surprise to you. I simply wished to make my intentions clear, and I do not much care for beating around the bush.”
Cordelia was frozen in place, but Lavinia chose that moment to come to her senses. “Marriage?” she shook her head a touch too vehemently. “My daughter is not for sale, Your Grace!” She hiccupped and paused to compose herself. In a rare moment of sobriety, she continued. “I know perfectly well of your reputation, and I shall not have my daughter cavorting with the likes of you! We may not be as proud as we once were… but… but…”
“Everyone has their price. Name yours,” the duke answered dryly.
This could not be happening. They were not about to haggle over her worth right in front of her face. “I am standing right here, you know.”
Neither party acknowledged that they could hear her if they could.
Though, it was nice to have her mother on her side for this.
“She is my daughter! You cannot–”
“How about a lifetime supply of the liquor of your choosing?” The duke offered; his face still unreadable.
Cordelia laughed bitterly, her arms crossing over her chest. She had never heard such a ludicrous offer in her entire three-and-twenty years of life. “Your Grace! This is ridiculous! If you think that my mother would–”
Lady Salisbury perked, hopping up off of the settee and extending her hand happily to the duke. “Well, then, we are in agreement!”
Cordelia had to scoop her jaw up off of the floor. “Mama! You cannot be serious? You will not sell me for a few bottles!”
She gestured widely to the duke, who had just the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. How could he be so shameless as to make such an offer? She had never been so insulted, never been made to feel so cheap, in her life. Which, given how things had been going for her recently, was saying something.
“Quiet, Cordi, we are talking about your future with this lovely and generous duke here,” Lavinia continued, her whole demeanor shifting. Lavinia took the duke’s arm, stroking it affectionately. “We shall start planning straight away! We have so much to do if you wish to be married by the end of the Season!”
“I see no reason that we should have to wait that long.”
“Well, then! Let us sit and have some tea, and we can discuss dowry and salary requirements! You see, my need for funds has…” Lavinia gushed, attempting to pull the duke toward the tea table.
Cordelia would not listen to any more of this. She had endured so much humiliation on her mother’s behalf, and this was truly the icing on the cake. Her hands balled into fists at her side. She was not going to stand here and listen to them haggle over details as if she were invisible. Clearly, she was not to be considered when making such important choices for her own future. The whole ordeal was wholly and utterly preposterous.
She turned so quickly on her heel that it left a scuff mark on the polished floor. Space. She needed space. She just needed a moment to breathe. She would not allow herself to cry, but she felt so damned hopeless that she did not know what to do with herself. It would appear that her mother truly had no tact, no limits left that she was unwilling to stoop to. The drinking addiction had consumed everything that her mother once was. She attempted to wipe her hands clean on her skirts as she walked. The first door that she came across, she flung it open and nearly hurled herself into the room, throwing the door shut behind her. However, it did not slam as she intended—instead, it smacked against something, and she whirled to see a man’s hand on the lip of the door.
The duke’s large frame took up most of the doorway as he stepped inside, pushing the door shut behind him gently. She had not even noticed that he had followed her out of the room in the first place! Cordelia whirled, her eyes widening as he closed most of the distance between them in a single stride. Her heart leaped into her throat.
“What are you doing? You cannot be in here!” She yelped, her voice higher pitched than she would have liked. She wished she could have told him off soundly. She could not be alone in a closed room with a man! “If you do not leave at once, I… I shall scream!”
The corner of the duke’s lips quirked upward, and he closed the rest of the distance between them, his hand covering the lower half of her face with ease as he pushed her up against the closest wall. Her hands scrambled for purchase, for something to defend herself with, but could not reach even the closest bookshelf.
“Be my guest. I can think of several ways to quiet you, Little Flower.” The duke’s gaze looked near ravenous as it dropped to her body. “Though, I am not sure you will like them.”
The quiet, reserved charm that he had had in the parlor was gone—replaced with something far darker.
Panic made her bold.
Her hands braced against the duke’s firm chest as she attempted to push him away from her. He would not budge. He was so much larger than her that she had no chance of getting away without his permission. Slowly, his hand left her face, resting on the wall on either side of her head.
“T-this is indecent, Your Grace! We cannot be unchaperoned!”
He shrugged, just a lift of one shoulder. “I do not care much for such trivial rules,” he paused, taking in every detail of her face. “Besides, I think that your mother is quite fond of me already.”
“And which version of you is supposed to be the real one? The falsely charming one, or this brutish one?” Cordelia snapped, her anger palpable in the air between them. “You do not fool me, Your Grace, and you will find that I am not so easily bought, either.”
“Is that right?” The duke asked.
“Yes! Even if my mother has consented to this engagement, I have made no such vows. I am well aware of your reputation, and I shall not be shackled to the sort of man that you are.”
His fingers curled, lifting her chin to look at him, and she could not bring herself to tear her eyes away.
“And what sort of man am I?”
It was hard to breathe properly when he looked at her like that. A sadistic sort of amusement glinted in his eyes. She did not think that she could bring herself to run from him even if she had had the space to do so. If only he were not so painfully handsome, then he would not be so distracting!
“You…. you are a killer. Everyone says so…” She breathed.
It dawned on her a moment too late how foolish it was to accuse him of such things in a situation like this one. If he were indeed a killer, she could be risking sending him into a rage. If he were not, then she was gravely offending him with accusations. Neither of which was going to allow this exchange to end in her favor.
The duke smirked, an incredulous sound leaving his lips before he pressed his lips to hers.
She thought to pull her face away, but she could not will herself to do so.
This was not at all how she imagined her first kiss.
Only, his grip on her face shifted. Instead of lifting her chin, he cupped her jaw in his hand and held her in place as his lips softened against her own. Every thought eddied out of her head, leaving a buzzing silence and the sharp awareness of his lips against her own. Her body responded on its own. She swore it did as she found herself kissing him back.
The hands she had been pushing him away with softened, and he absorbed every inch of leeway that she gave him. A man who insulted her so deeply ought not to feel so nice pressed against her; his lips had no right to make her feel so sinfully good.
When he broke from her lips, she could not open her eyes right away.
“Does that change your opinion of me?” He asked softly, his voice as gentle as a caress.
Cordelia shook her head. Her eyes lifted, heavily lidded as she could not stop feeling the force of his lips against hers despite the distance between them. “You should… you ought to find somebody else to marry. Leave my mother and I alone.”
Surely, he did not make a habit of cornering women and kissing them. Why was he so interested in her in the first place?
“No, my lady, you are the only one that I wish to make my duchess.”
“Why… Why me?”
“Let us just say that I knew your father,” he answered as his thumb brushed over her cheek, sending goosebumps down her spine.
It was almost as if he made it his job to be as cryptic as possible.
How did he know her father? If that were true, why did she not remember him at her father’s funeral? She would have certainly taken note of a man who looked the way that he did.
“I cannot marry you,” she insisted, though her words did not even sound convincing to herself.
No, Cordelia, do not look at his lips!
“And why not? Shall I convince you some more?” The duke teased, leaning down once more.
Oh, she was sorely tempted to let him. She had not felt so desired in her life. It was so nice to feel something other than shame and worry. Her mind begged her to let go of her control for just a moment—to feel again.
No, I will not be a slave to my desires.
“I am already being courted by another,” she lied firmly. “That is where my heart lies.”
The duke shook his head like he could see right through her. He brushed his knuckles down the side of her neck, trailing the line of her shoulder. “No,” he said confidently. “You may like whoever you choose, Little Flower, but you belong to me.”
“I… I do not!” She spat as indignation and something else welled up inside of her. He traced the line of soft skin back up her neck, his thumb resting on her pulse point. “I certainly will never be yours!”
The duke’s answering smile was not kind. “You are a terrible liar. And we will marry before the week’s end.”