Chapter 18
C ordelia woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains and an empty bed again. Each morning that she woke to find herself alone, she was disappointed for reasons that she could not even begin to explain. She stretched lazily beneath the blankets, her mind still hovering in that peaceful place between sleep and waking. But something was different. There, resting on her pillow beside her head, was a missive. A folded piece of parchment sealed with Dorian’s distinctive wax seal.
What could that be?
Her heart quickened, and she sat up, blinking away the last remnants of sleep as she reached for the letter. Had he left the estate? She hoped that it did not mean that he was planning to start traveling again; things had just started to seem like they were reaching progress between them. Had she really been that wrong?
As her fingers brushed the paper, she felt something small and hard. She broke the seal and carefully opened the note. A small, delicate key slid into her palm. For a moment, she simply stared at it, her mind racing.
The greenhouse?
The letter was short, written in Dorian’s sharp script:
You have waited long enough. Go make something beautiful.
– Dorian.
Cordelia’s breath left her in a rush. A wide, uncontrollable smile split her face. She could not believe it. It felt impossible. She did not think that she was truly going to let herself get excited until she had the doors to the greenhouse open in front of her.
In her excitement, she forgot all pretense of decorum. She tossed the letter onto the bed, yanked her dressing gown over her shoulders, and took off the stairs at a run. Her feet made almost no sound as she bolted through the estate, her fingers clutching the key tightly as though it might vanish if she let it go. She did not care that her hair was loose, cascading in messy waves down her back. She did not care that she was dressed entirely inappropriately for the morning, let alone going outside.
She had to see it.
She needed to feel it.
The house was still quiet, the staff not yet fully awake. She slipped through the halls unnoticed, her feet pattering lightly against the marble as she burst out through the front door and into the morning air.
The grass was still dewy beneath her feet as she ran across the lawn, the cool breeze brushing against her skin. She did not feel the chill. Her heart was racing far too fast for that, each step bringing her closer to the one place she had dreamed about since she had first seen the estate.
And then, there it was. The greenhouse bathed in the soft light of the rising sun.
Cordelia slowed as she approached, her breath coming in small, excited gasps. She reached the door and paused, her hand shaking as she fit the key into the lock. The chains that she had started to think of as a permanent fixture were gone, all hints of rust brushed away like it had never truly been locked away from her in the first place. For a moment, she hesitated, savoring the anticipation. Then, with a soft click, the door swung open.
It was real. He was truly giving her the space to do the one thing that she loved above nearly everything else.
A single tear slipped down her cheek as she smiled. She could already see it in her mind’s eye—the flowers, the herbs, the vines trailing up the walls. It did not matter how long it was going to take her, she located a pair of old garden gloves covered in grime and hit them against the same table that still bore her knee and handprints. She fought against the instant surge of arousal that seemed synonymous with her husband now. When the gloves were as clean as she could get them, she pulled them onto her hands.
No matter how difficult it was to control the things outside of this building, her mother—Dorian, and Mary, Matthew—this was a place where she could control the outcome, an outlet that she so desperately needed. It was all up to her.
Cordelia pushed up the sleeves of her nightgown, her heart still racing with excitement as she stepped further into the greenhouse. Her work was certainly cut out for her. Rusted hangers for potted plants hung haphazardly from the ceiling, and the wooden tables were warped with age and water damage. She moved slowly through the space, her fingers trailing over the surfaces as she imagined what it would look like once she breathed life back into it.
But despite its worn-down state, the heart of the greenhouse—the central garden bed—still had a spark of life. In the center stood a single tree, its branches stretching upward toward the broken glass ceiling. Against all odds, it appeared healthy, its bark dark and sturdy. Even though the trunk was covered with moss and vines, it seemed to have endured. A small smile tugged at the corners of Cordelia’s lips as she reached out, gently brushing her fingers over the rough bark.
It was so much like the greenhouse that her father had promised to her when she was little. Even from a young age, she had had a green thumb. She had started with just flowers and pretty things like butterflies and how they liked to linger on the prettiest flowers. She wanted to make beautiful things grow and nurture them.
Every time that her father had traveled, he had always been sure to bring her back seeds that were native to wherever he had gone. Though, after he had died… she had ruined most of her garden. She had not understood. She could not grasp why a man who appreciated such beautiful things in the way that she did, would take his own life. It simply made no sense. He had seemed so happy.
This was not the time for tears.
Quickly, she brushed them from her face so she would not sour her new adventure with sorrowful memories. Her mother would come to at least pretend to appreciate the garden. But the enthusiasm was not the same. She appreciated beauty in the form of pretty, sparkly things like diamonds and jewels, new dresses, and fine paintings. Growing things and nature were not exactly her forte. Something that Cordelia had never begrudged the woman in the slightest.
But, at times like this, it only made her miss her father that much more.
As she circled the garden bed, something moved in the corner of her eye. A flicker of motion caught her attention, and she turned just in time to see a barn cat slinking in through a hole in the side of the greenhouse. The feline, a scrappy tabby with a patchy coat, prowled through the undergrowth, tail twitching as it stalked a small mouse darting across the floor.
Cordelia paused, watching the cat. He must have entered through the same panel that had saved Dorian’s life all those years ago. Perhaps he had made a home here, fending off the vermin. Cordelia knelt down slowly as the cat caught its prey, and when the feline noticed her, it hesitated, eyeing her warily.
“Good job, thank you for helping me clean up,” she whispered, her hand reaching out to offer a gentle pat. The cat gave a rumbling purr and brushed against her fingers before darting off. At least Cordelia was in good company here. First things first, she set off to start pruning anything dead and broken to be placed in a pile outside.
Before she knew it, she was humming again.
“I will see you later, all right?” Cordelia got up, leaving her breakfast plate half-empty.
She seemed to have started a whole new routine. Every morning, she hurried through breakfast just conversationally enough to be still considered polite before hurrying to the greenhouse. She had made remarkable progress in such a few days. It was harder to coax her inside for meals now, but Dorian was happy that at least she had something to occupy her time with. That was the point, was it not? He certainly hoped so.
Yet, the few times he encountered her in the halls, she still seemed paler than she ought to despite the sun she was getting. The exhaustion he could excuse as nothing more than the additional physical labor paired with the intimacy that they shared. But there was still something off that he could not quite put his finger on. He had even surrendered his pride enough to inquire with his sister if there was anything that she still complained about. But Mary said no every time. Matilde was at a loss, and naturally, Georgie did not see anything amiss at all. He was overjoyed to be helping his aunt in the gardens and was regaling them with vivid retellings of plant facts and explaining the various flora to them over dinner each night.
But, even with the greenhouse she claimed she coveted above all else, something was missing. He could not explain how he knew. But for some reason, she was not happy.
So, what was it?
Watching her through the window was not nearly informative enough. He was working to keep some distance but some things were wholly unavoidable at this point.
With Matilde’s help, he had ordered a special dinner just for the two of them and ensured that Mary and Georgie would be otherwise occupied for the evening. All her favorite dishes were prepared, even if it was a surplus and more than the two of them could eat. Roasted mutton, turbot with hollandaise sauce, peas pudding, with all of the sides to accompany it, and he had ensured that Blancmange be available for dessert so that she could be as happy as she possibly could be.
When she arrived in a stunning plum-purple gown, Dorian nearly forgot the entire reason that he had wanted to be alone with her in the first place. It was so hard to keep his wits about him when faced with her beauty. The short, tantalizing moans that she made when he was deep inside her— no .
Dorian cleared his throat roughly and gestured politely for her to join him. Candles decorated the table instead of the normal overhead chandeliers’ light, and their place settings were moved closer together.
“Is it just the pair of us tonight?” Cordelia asked with a smile as she moved toward her chair almost hesitantly. “I feel so very underdressed for whatever occasion this is.”
“You look perfect. It is nothing like that, I just thought it might be a nice change,” Dorian said as they both took their seats.
“Oh, is that right? No ulterior motives at all?”
“Very honest motives,” Dorian answered honestly.
Cordelia laughed, a rich sound that almost echoed around the room. He was taken aback by how freely the sound left her lips considering he did not think it was because of him that she had cause to laugh. He had merely been honest with her—not trying to be funny in the slightest.
She looked at the confusion on his face and laughed anew. “Apologies, I… it is just, this is so nice… and you…” She pulled her napkin onto her lap and angled herself toward him. “So, what business are we discussing?”
Dorian gestured to the servants who started to serve the prepared dishes to them both. He only spoke again when they were finished. “You, if that is all right?”
“Oh! Then I suppose that I should tell you again how grateful I am that you reconsidered the greenhouse for me. Truly. I asked Matilde to order new iron stems for the hanging planters. Was that not all right? Is that what this is about?”
“Are you happy, Cordelia?”
Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it was not that. She snapped her mouth shut so swiftly that her teeth clicked together. “I beg your pardon?”
“I thought that access to the greenhouse would make you happy?”
“Of course, it does,” Cordelia answered easily. She could not figure out where he was going with the line of questioning for the life of her. “Have I… missed some fight that we have had? I am not sure what cause you have to think that I am unhappy?”
Dorian leaned forward, his hand lifting to cup the side of her face, delighted in no small part when she leaned her face into his hand. He let the pad of his thumb brush softly over the bags under her eyes that never seemed to leave no matter how much she slept.
“You look… worried.”
“Oh, that. I…” Cordelia started as Dorian pulled his hand away, noting the way her features seemed to be even more sunken under the dim lighting. “I worry about my mother, you know that.”
“I do. The care that she has now has been wholly replaced. She has around-the-clock company that serves as companionship as well as monitors for the amount of wine that she consumes. I can start having their reports delivered to you, if you like?”
She nodded. “That would be fine.” Cordelia’s fork plunged into her fish, but there it stayed. She did not take a single bite. “Do you want the truth? I miss my father. All the reports about my mother will not change the fact that she lost the love of her life and I my father. And here I am, renovating a greenhouse while she is in pain.”
“If there is anything I can…”
“Can you tell me why a seemingly happy man would take his own life?”
Cordelia almost looked like she was about to cry.
Dorian did not know what to do with tears. His hands tightened until his knuckles were white.
“I know you said that you were not his friend, that you did not actually know him but… but I cannot help but to think there is still more that you are not telling me. Dorian. You have shared so much with me, and I know it was not easy for you… so why can you share that but keep whatever knowledge that you have about my father from me?” Cordelia said flatly. A single tear rolled down her cheek that she wiped away just as quickly.
Because I killed him.
Awkwardly, he pushed his napkin in her direction, but she shook her head.
“No, I did not mean to cry. You have planned this lovely evening for us and I do not mean to sound ungrateful for all of the effort you have gone through on my behalf, I promise. I was just caught off guard by your question,” Cordelia answered, but she would not look him in the face as she spoke.
Guilt reared its ugly head in Dorian’s gut. It spread and festered as he watched his wife suffer.
It is all my fault.
It hurt him more than he thought was possible to see her in so much pain.
The truth would crush her.
It would crush her.
Perhaps it was endlessly selfish, but he could not tell her—he could not be the one to break her. Not if there was any other possible option.
“Is that what keeps you up at night? I hear you pacing some nights,” Dorian asked softly, keeping his gaze focused on his plate.
“Is my pacing why you will not share a bed with me?”
The softness in her voice was unlike anything he had heard from her. His gaze jerked up, clashing with her own. Her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth as she awaited his answer.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Why will you not sleep in the same bed with me? You will lie with me, and then the moment that we are finished… you abandon me. Every time. What is it? Why do you leave?”
A muscle in Dorian’s jaw feathered uncomfortably. His fingers twitched as he struggled for an appropriate answer. “I… it would complicate things between us.”
“How? What is it about this entire marriage that has not been complicated already?” Cordelia insisted.
She had a point. How was he supposed to combat her logic?
“I do not like sleeping alone, Dorian. I feel alone so often than when I know you are there… when you are near and I can hear your heart beating, no matter how large and frightening this house can be at night, I know I am all right.”
Dorian was at a loss for words. What could he say to that? He was afraid of crossing that line. If he did not continue to keep some boundaries between them, it would only hurt them both in the end. If he slipped and told her the truth? If he allowed her to feel close enough to rely on him for restful sleep? All of that would backfire eventually.
He was far too aware of each and every risk he took when it came to her already.
But when she looked at him like that… reason went straight out the window.
If that was truly how she felt about him in her heart, did he truly have any right to refuse her? It was more affection than he deserved, more than he would have ever thought was possible. He had been so certain that she was merely being a dutiful wife most of the time, but could she actually have begun to feel safe around him? Truly?
“If you could find it in your heart to stay with me, perhaps that would help.”
Cordelia’s eyes locked onto his own. She was begging in her own way, begging for him to spend the whole night with her, to share her bed, to wake in the morning with her sweet face nestled against his chest. Dorian never thought he would have gotten so lucky in any version of this life. It felt surreal. It was not even as if she was asking a lot from him. On the contrary, this should have been something far simpler to grant her than giving her the greenhouse that was so painful for him.
“Oh, dear. Listen to me,” Cordelia said with a scoff as she blotted her eyes with her napkin. “You must think me so foolish.”
There were a great many words that he could have tied to her, and foolish never would have been one of them.
“I do not,” Dorian said gently. Quite the opposite. Which was the issue that he was having. “But what you are asking me for would only complicate things between us further. I do not think that it would be wise.”
“Complicate? We are married, Dorian,” Cordelia continued softly.
The gentleness that she was showing in this conversation was going to shatter him. She looked so vulnerable, so open. His wife was asking him for something that she needed and he was unable to give it to her. The guilt over being unable to provide her with something so simple was breaking his heart.
“Cordelia… I…”
“I know that you are unaccustomed to such things. Truly, I do. But I think that if you would perhaps try to…”
Dorian pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose. “That is not…”
“I want to sleep with you, Dorian. To share a bed with my husband. I have never had to sleep alone before coming here. It is harder for me than I ever expected it would be. I do not know how to…”
Dorian’s hand dropped, and he watched as she seemed almost moved to tears while speaking before she stopped and shook her head. He could not stand being the one to make her feel like this. He hated that she was so upset, and he knew it was wholly and completely his fault. Why was it that every time he thought he was starting to do the right thing, it was backfiring on him?
If it would help, did he truly have the right to refuse her? Was this whole arrangement not supposed to ease the suffering that he had placed upon her family in the first place?
“All right,” Dorian conceded. “I will try, I cannot guarantee that it shall–”
Cordelia’s answering smile silenced everything that he had been about to say. To keep her smiling like that, there was almost nothing he would not do. He would simply have to find a way to make it work, one way or another. He just had to hope that, in the meantime, the feelings that were nearly overwhelming him were not going to make him fall for her completely.