Chapter 6
O f all the foolish choices that Cordelia had made in her life, tonight might have been the very worst one.
What were you thinking?
The servants had readied her for bed hours ago, but she could not settle herself. Her newfound friendship with Mary had caused her to let her guard down too much. She should never have allowed herself to become quite so comfortable. It would have been far more intelligent on her end to have kept her focus on the duke. He was, after all, her husband now. There were probably certain duties and obligations that she needed to fulfill for him. He had not mentioned anything to her specifically, but she knew that he was going to come for her. He was a man. The way that he looked at her… he always looked at her like he wanted to eat her.
Heat washed over her skin, warming her against the chill of the room, if only for a moment.
Cordelia had not yet decided if she felt that his attention was good or something that should be avoided.
If for no other reason than the fact that he was a murderer.
There were bound to be repercussions for her behavior. After he had stormed off during dinner, she had asked Mary if that sort of behavior was typical for her brother. She hoped it would have opened up a dialogue about Dorian and his tendencies. If anybody knew the best ways to keep him appeased, it would be his sister. Would it not? But Mary had had very little to say on the matter, heavily implying that she was trying to keep herself out of her brother’s affairs where she could.
Every creak and noise of the house settling in the dark of night had her jumping at shadows.
Sleeplessness was never something that she had been plagued with, but this was her wedding night, and she was frightened. Unable to pace in the same setting any longer, she put her slippers on and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. At least she could occupy herself with something useful. She just needed to be quiet. Mary and Georgie’s rooms were in a wholly different wing from where she and Dorian were. Likely for the best, but at present, it made her feel impossibly lonely.
Shadows seemed to stretch up the walls and watch her from every corner as she attempted to memorize the twists and turns of the halls that were now her home. She hoped that her mother was all right. Dorian promised to provide for her. She would have to trust that he had, given how well Georgie and Mary were cared for.
The estate was impossibly larger at night than it was during the day.
Turning the corner while wholly absorbed in her thoughts, she nearly came out of her skin as she collided firmly with another body. A shrill scream left her before she could stop it, the sound swallowed by the tapestry on the wall as the person with whom she had collided grabbed her firmly by the shoulders to ensure that neither one of them fell gracelessly on their behinds.
“Shh! You shall wake the young master! Or worse!” The woman hissed at her.
A motherly woman, at least, and not some frightful creature from a nightmare.
Even seeing the housekeeper in front of her was not enough to quell her nerves or calm her racing heart.
“Apologies, I did not mean to frighten you.” Cordelia pressed her hand into her chest as she willed herself to take normal breaths. It was practically an impossible task.
“Oh, Your Grace! I did not recognize you in the dark! Forgive my tone! What are you doing awake at this hour? Shall I escort you back to your room?” The housekeeper offered, her tone softening with every word.
Cordelia shook her head. “No, thank you. It is just an unfamiliar place, is all. I felt restless. I did not mean to bother you.”
“You could never be a bother, Your Grace. In truth, I am glad that I did not find one of the staff roaming after the lights were out. I would have a whole other issue on my hands then! I was just doing some final rounds before turning in myself.” The housekeeper offered.
Cordelia smiled brightly. “Forgive me, but I did not catch your name earlier?”
“Matilde, Your Grace,” the housekeeper said as she held a hand in the direction that Cordelia had just come from.
She allowed herself to be guided but walked slowly. Might as well take advantage of the opportunity that had been placed in front of her. “Matilde, do you enjoy working for His Grace?”
The woman regarded her out of the corner of her eye as if she were debating explaining herself or not. It was understandable, she supposed. Dorian’s staff certainly did seem very loyal to him. She could respect that.
“I do.”
“What… I do not mean to pry, but I know so little of him. Surely, you could give me some insight? He seems so reluctant to speak… about anything really.” Cordelia sighed. It was unfair that his face swam so easily into the forefront of her mind. Was he sleeping? Certainly, he would not be up in his room, pacing as she was. No doubt, if he had an issue, he would make it known. Right?
“His Grace can be somewhat contrary, but he is a very serious man. Though, with the upbringing that he had, it is to be expected.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have been in service of the family for many years now, and I was… well, I do not know if fortunate is the correct word to use in this instance, but I was in employ here when His Grace’s father was still alive.”
“Anything that you could tell me would be very much appreciated,” Cordelia said.
“It is not my place. Forgive me, I have said too much already.”
“I understand that I am placing you in a difficult position, I do, but I just wish to know a little bit more about the man that I am married to. Surely you can understand that desire?”
Matilde hesitated for a moment, but there was sympathy for her plight in her eyes, she could see it. But Matilde shook her head again. “No, I really should go to bed. As should you, Your Grace.”
Cordelia took both of the housekeepers’ hands in her own, practically begging. “Please?” From the way that she was speaking about him, Cordelia was not sure if the ending of this story was going to be a happy one.
“It is not truly my place to say,” Matilde continued. “But Lady Mary and His Grace did not have the easiest time in their youth. I suppose that I tell you this just to request that you have patience with the duke. They suffered a great deal at the hands of their father. The sort of suffering that leaves wounds on the soul that are not so easily healed.”
With that, the housekeeper took her hand gently, patting it softly in an almost motherly gesture as they continued to weave through the halls that the housekeeper could have likely navigated wholly blind. There was a burning curiosity in her gut that almost wanted her to beg for more information. There was so much that she was sure she could learn from Matilde, but it was unlikely that Dorian would ever be willing to tell her.
She chewed on her tongue, debating if it was worth it.
“Does that somehow have something to do with the greenhouse? If it is just in need of repair or cleaning, I would be more than happy to–”
“The greenhouse is off limits, Your Grace,” Matilde interrupted gently.
There was no invitation for further questions about it either.
Before she could think better about it, she asked. “Does it have something to do with the murder?”
Matilde stopped walking and turned to face her properly. “I know there are a great deal of rumors surrounding His Grace, but I beg you to do him the kindness of asking him yourself. He is your husband now.”
Yes, he was her husband.
That did nothing to quell her fear of him being a murderer.
“Is there nothing that you can tell me? I have heard so much speculation. I simply wish to know if I am safe here… if I need to fear my husband,” Cordelia asked in a small voice. The limited encounters that she had had with him so far did not make her think she ought to be. But if he was a man capable of murder… he did not seem like it.
But what did she think that a murderer would truly look like? Was she merely being naive? If Matilde had been comfortably employed here all of this time, he could not be so bad, could he?
“I confess I do not know much myself. As you can imagine, it is not a subject that is brought up here.” Matilde sighed. “I do not know how it happened. I know that Monty, the butler, was present when the body of the late duke was found. He was dead, on the ground, and His Grace was over him.”
Matilde shuddered, seeming to push the memory away. But now, it was all that Cordelia could imagine. It was such a vivid picture in her mind that she could not shake it. She did not know if she wished to know more that would make the image even more real than it already felt.
“This is where I leave you, Your Grace. Your door is second on the left there. Unless you require anything else?” Matilde asked sweetly. She had such a warm, comforting presence even with the heavy subject matter they discussed.
“No, I shall be all right. Thank you for your assistance,” Cordelia said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone of voice. She smiled softly as the housekeeper turned and headed back down the hall. Cordelia briefly considered continuing her exploration, but perhaps it was best if she at least attempted to rest. The feeling of unease would not dissipate. She moved into her room, unable to shake the image of Dorian standing over a faceless dead body.
She clicked the latch into place and spun slowly—only to nearly faint once more.
There was somebody in her room.