Chapter 9
The next day after breakfast, Cordelia sat in the sitting room, distracted, awaiting the time for her to prepare the carriage and go to collect the children.
A room for the children had been prepared, and she was now eager to get them away from their grandfather.
Although, she was not eager to have another run-in with him.
She paced, dreading the moment when she would have to leave, to face the Duke of Wexford but also to take the new step in her new life. And having been kissed within an inch of her life only the day before was not helping matters.
I think I will surprise you at every turn, he had told her, and she couldn’t get those words out of her head. Nor could she get the thought of his soft lips moving over hers as his tongue—
“Miss Debrett?” Cordelia jumped at the sound of the young footman’s voice as he stepped into the sitting room.
“Yes?” she asked, blushing and feeling so utterly foolish she was glad the duke wasn’t there to tease her about it.
“You have some visitors,” he said, and without saying anymore, he left the room, and Cordelia hurried after him to the open front door.
To her surprise, she found Mr. Wolsley yet again on her doorstep, this time with two children and a nanny in tow.
Delighted and relieved, Cordelia rushed out towards the children and hugged each one in turn before she rose again.
The children had accepted her hugs but had not let go of the nanny’s hands.
“But Mr. Wolsley, you confuse me. I thought I was meant to collect the children myself.” She led them in the house, and the young footman hurried out the door to assist the coachman with the trunks.
Mr. Wolsley removed his hat and dabbed at his sweating bald pate with his handkerchief.
“You are right, but in returning to the will, I noticed that Lord Riverton was adamant that the children should be delivered to you, in the company of their nanny of course. And well,” he gave her a stiff smile, “You likely know their grandfather was not willing to bring the children himself. I dare say he would have given you plenty of,” he coughed politely, “trouble when you arrived.”
“Ah, yes, of course. You are probably right.” Cordelia wanted to hug the man, but she stayed where she was. All that dread was now for nothing, but she was grateful. “You are most welcome. I shall call for tea.”
“No, thank you, Miss Debrett. I will be going now, but I do wish you all the luck in the world.” He bowed to her and left, leaving Cordelia in the foyer with the two children, still holding hands with their young nanny.
They were looking around them, both intrigued but nervous as well.
Praying for strength, she smiled at the young woman.
She had honey blonde hair and brown eyes, looking just as uncertain as Cordelia felt and as exhausted.
Her face was pale, and dark circles shadowed her eyes.
She looked exhausted, though whether from tending to the twins or something else, Cordelia could not tell.
“You are most welcome…”
“Jenny, Miss.” She curtsied but never let go of the children’s hands.
“Lovely to meet you, Jenny. And I already know these two young ones.” Smiling, Cordelia bent down to be on the same level as the children’s eyes.
Olivia had dark curls and had a thumb in her mouth, looking up at Cordelia with her large dark eyes.
“You know me, my dear. I am your mother’s dear friend. ”
“Borceelia,” she said with the thumb in her mouth, but she stepped back a little from her, looking shy.
“That’s right. Good morning to you, Olivia,” she said.
“And you, Tim.” She patted the young boy’s head of dark brown curls, his brown eyes shining with unspent tears.
They were only two, and yet Cordelia was certain they felt the loss of their parents or at least were terribly confused as to how their lives had suddenly changed.
“We shall have tea and play all the sorts of games that I know you like.” She reached out for the children’s hands.
“Jenny, please make yourself at home. We have no housekeeper, but you can find whatever you need in the kitchen. I will take the children to the sitting room.”
“Very good, Miss.” Jenny knelt and kissed each of them. They fought her a little as she tried to pry their hands from her own, but in the end, they gave in. “Thank you, Miss.” Jenny curtsied, but before she could leave, Cordelia stopped her.
“Are you all right, Jenny?”
Briefly Jenny put a hand to her stomach, and Cordelia wondered if she was going to be ill.
“Yes, Your Grace. Just tired from the journey and helping the children pack.”
“Of course. Please, feel free to rest.”
“Oh, and Your Grace, these should help you.” Jenny handed her a cloth bag, and Cordelia took it, a little confused. She smiled at the young girl who curtsied again and then was gone, looking relieved.
Turning to the children, she said, “As for you two, I wish you to tell me all about your carriage ride. I know it must have been very exciting. So much to see.”
To her delight, Tim began to speak quickly about it, and they both took her hands, Olivia only a little more reluctantly, as she led them to the sitting room.
“And Olivia? What did you think about the carriage ride?” she asked once Tim was done.
“Bumpy,” Olivia said, and then her bottom lip began to tremble, and she plopped on the floor and burst into tears.
“Oh, dear Olivia! I’m sorry. You must have had a long and rough journey.” She knelt down in front of her and took Olivia’s hands in her own, but Olivia kept crying.
Tim sat down next to her and stared at her. Thinking, Cordelia turned to the cloth bag, and she opened it, revealing a cloth duck and a cloth lamb. Her heart squeezed, and she stared at them for a little while, thinking of Helen. Helen had made them herself for the children before they were born.
“Duckie!” Tim cried, reaching over and grabbing the duck from Cordelia’s hands. He squeezed it tight to him. Cordelia took the lamb and passed it gently into Olivia’s hands.
She stopped crying, looked down at the lamb and pulled it close, putting her thumb in her mouth. Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now, I think it time that we have some cake.”
* * *
“Cordelia, you must sit down! We must complete your hair!” Danae complained as Cordelia tried to get up once more when she heard one of the children crying.
She’d just come from spending time with them, reading them their favorite books, when her sisters had found her and dragged her to her bedroom to sit in front of the dressing table mirror.
Danae pressed her hands firmly into Cordelia’s shoulders and glared at her.
“Jenny will handle them. She is the nanny after all! And you are to be a bride.”
Cordelia sighed, but she finally allowed her sister to help her prepare.
It was her wedding day, and yet it did not feel like what she had thought one would feel like.
What felt like an eternity later, Danae slid one more pin into place and then leaned over her, and they locked eyes in the mirror. “You are beautiful.”
Cordelia breathed out slowly, looking at her dark hair having been curled and pinned up with baby’s breath tucked throughout.
“Am I?” she breathed, nervous, wondering what sort of future she could possibly expect.
It had been a week since she’d seen Nicholas, and that very day she was to marry him. In just a few hours.
Helen, you were mad for thinking this a good idea. We will grow to loathe one another! Even more than we already do.
“Yes, you are.” Danae touched her on the shoulders and gave her peck on the cheek. “And His Grace will think so as well.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and Cordelia blushed deeply.
It had been a week since she’d seen him but that did not mean she hadn’t spent nearly every waking moment thinking about their kiss, thinking about the last time they’d spoken in the garden.
Cordelia had spent one feverish night after another dreaming of blue eyes and a rough chin and expert lips, feeling heat move down her core and below.
The ache of desire kept her awake and frustrated.
She went to sleep exhausted from a day of being with the children to then exhausted in the morning after dreams of the desperately handsome and infuriating Duke of Meinster.
“It is just a business arrangement. You know that, Danae,” Cordelia said, standing up and not looking at her sister. She walked to the wardrobe, where her wedding dress hung awaiting her. She touched a finger along the fabric.
Danae chuckled, and Cordelia spun around to look at her. “What? You don’t believe me?”
“Believe you about what?” Emma entered the room, but she froze in the doorway when she saw Cordelia.
“Cord, you look lovely!” Emma’s eyes brightened and she rushed over to her to pull her close. “You are a beautiful bride.”
Cordelia felt a little tension ease. It was much better they focus on her being a beautiful bride rather than on what her being a bride would mean.
Pulling out of Emma’s arms, she went back to her gown. “I will need a little help to get this on.”
“But of course,” Danae said. “And then the duke shall help you to get it off.”
“Danae!” Emma cried with a groan. “Even on such a day as this you find a way to be crass!”
“It is not crass; it is only the truth.”
Cordelia didn’t turn around, her face on fire.
She touched the gown again. It was made of fine muslin and so soft, with lace on the sleeves and the bodice.
Deep in her heart of hearts, she had dreamed of marrying someone she loved, someone who loved her in return just like her parents.
But it could never be, and certainly not with the duke of all people.
Her parents had found true love, but that was one in a million, one in a billion.
It could never happen to her, and now she was disgracing the memory of that love.