Chapter 4
T his is for the best. This is the right thing to do.
In truth, it was the only thing to do.
The wedding itself passed by Dorian in a blur. The preparations were simple enough, and his steward handled most of the details. It was not until Dorian found himself standing outside of the chapel, married, that things started to feel real for him.
He stood dutifully beside his carriage, waiting for his wife to finish speaking to her mother and friends. Though, he was not entirely sure why she was acting as if she would never see her mother again. By wedding him, she had all but assured that her mother would be well cared for. It was as much to assuage his own conscience as it was for her benefit. When he arrived at her family house a week ago and saw the shoddy state that it was in, he knew that his work was cut out for him. The only way to atone for being the reason her family was struggling was to care for them.
Cordelia had yet to meet his gaze once.
Even now, she was looking everywhere but him, stalling with every tactic that she could seem to dream up that would mean she did not have to get into the carriage with him. Dorian ought not to care how she chose to spend her time, nor should he care what she chose to look or not look at. But he found himself fixated on the back of her head. There was something simply intoxicating about her. On his end, it would be simpler were she ordinary. But her cherry-red lips dominated his thoughts. Dorian had not been so drawn to a woman in, well, ever.
One by one, with lingering glances and long-winded speeches, Cordelia forced him to wait as she kissed each of her friends in turn and then her mother. He would ensure that a proper caretaker was assigned to her mother’s care so that the woman did not spiral in her absence.
When she finished, he offered a hand to assist her into the carriage, which she, of course, denied.
To his eternal chagrin, her obstinance was intriguing.
“Words of gratitude would not be unwelcome,” Dorian said to break the silence as he leaned back against the padded seat in the carriage. He watched as Cordelia’s jaw clenched, her fingers closing into a fist—but she only stared out the window.
“Your mother shall be well cared for; you do not need to worry about her any longer,” he continued, hoping that she might respond to him, even if it was just to tell him off.
The scenery outside of the carriage passed in a blur of greens as they started to pull toward the outskirts of town where his home was located. Just close enough to the city to be annoyingly relevant to society but removed enough that Dorian did not have to deal with a single one of them should he choose not to.
He was the one accustomed to ignoring others. He was certainly not accustomed to being the one ignored, and he did not care for it.
“Answer me when I speak to you,” Dorian commanded.
That, at least, got a reaction.
“Is that how you imagine this to be, Your Grace?” Cordelia snapped. “You shall treat me as if I am some dog to command?”
Dorian’s brow arched at her outburst. He could not help how appealing her anger was. There was a sparkle in her eye that only seemed to exist when he was getting on her nerves. So, keeping her irritated was the key to making her talk to him? He could do that.
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched Cordelia instinctively lean back as if there was enough room in the small carriage for her to have any hope of getting away from him. No, he was encroaching on her space, and he intended to stay there.
“I do not care if you hate me, but you need to understand your place.”
Cordelia scoffed. Dorian was intensely aware of how labored her breathing had become. Good. He reached forward and grabbed her chin, forcing her closer to him as she whimpered.
“We are married. By law, you belong to me, Little Flower. Every look, every insult, every breath belongs to me.” His eyes lingered on her eyes, lips, and chest as he spoke before releasing her.
As if he had burned her, she wrenched her pretty face from his grasp.
“Perhaps if you understand my intentions, you will be put more at ease?” He wanted to keep talking, as her attention was finally wholly on him and him alone. “I do not expect an heir, nor do I desire children. But there shall be rules between us. It would behoove you to learn and obey them without deviation.”
Her brow pinched. “Rules?”
He dipped his chin in a nod, never breaking eye contact. “First and foremost, you are never to avoid looking at me again.”
Cordelia pulled her full bottom lip between her teeth.
“Secondly, you will never take a lover,” he finished firmly.
She considered his words for a moment, and Dorian wondered if she was going to attempt to argue that there was another who had her heart again. Clearly, she was not all that devoted to him as she had tried to lie in the first place.
“Questions?”
Cordelia shook her head, her lip popping out from between her teeth. “I suppose that those simple rules are fair enough…”
She started to look away from him, and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Cordelia’s gaze snapped back on him, and a deep sense of satisfaction curled in his gut. Perhaps there was hope for this arrangement after all.
“I wish to make a rule of my own then. You have two. I think it is perfectly fair to request the same from you.”
Cute.
“I shall have no issue abiding by your rules,” she continued. “For as long as my rule is also being followed.”
“Very well, what is it?” Dorian asked, leaning back in his seat once more.
“As this is to be an arrangement between us, I want you to promise that there shall be no lying between us.”
She was charming when she was so serious. Of course, she would demand the one thing that he would never be able to give her.
Dorian smirked. “Oh, is that all? And what sort of arrangement do you presume that this is?”
“It is a marriage of convenience and nothing more.”
“Ah, you have decided this all on your own, have you?”
She folded her arms across her chest and nodded once.
“I think that it is charming that you feel so emboldened,” Dorian teased, knowing fully well that she would hate to be mocked.
“Do not dare belittle me, Your Grace.” She quirked a brow. “This is how it must be between us.”
Dorian did not answer, but he leaned forward once more, two of his fingers resting on her knee and walking upward slowly. He watched her expression carefully as her breath hitched. He could not help but wonder which part of the statement was more important that she get confirmation on. Was it the no lying? Or was it because she did not think this was truly a matter of business? She was not wrong on that front.
Holding her gaze, he had managed to walk his fingers nearly to her hips before she swatted his hand away like a spider. “Your Grace!”
“I like it when you blush, Little Flower.”
His words made more of that beautiful pink tint flush over her cheeks. She had buttons so easily pressed. He could not help but wonder if she would be equally as responsive to him in other matters as well.
He leaned back, a humorless chuckle on his lips as he interlaced his fingers behind his head. They were going to have great fun together.