Chapter 27
Nicholas woke up with a smile on his face.
He’d been in a dream, a glorious dream, where he and Cordelia had been walking in his mother’s garden, hand in hand.
A great peace had come over him, and the children were there, both of them, older and playing together, calling out to them as they ran about.
The sun shone on his face, and when he roused, he turned on his side, his eyes fluttering open.
He was still smiling as he looked down at the sleeping children, and at a sleeping Cordelia, her arm over Olivia, and her dark hair laying strewn over the white silk of his pillow, the scent of rosebud in the air.
His heart clenched as reality settled in. She was not truly his, nor were the children, and it felt wrong to want and to dream. In the dream, everything had seemed easy and right, but now in the light of day, his old fears returning. But he remembered David’s words from a few years before:
One of these days, you will find yourself ensnared by a lady whose mere gaze will make you fall to your feet. You will hang on her every word, and you would even lay down your life for her, just to keep her safe and happy.
He swallowed hard at that realization, staring over at a sleeping, peaceful Cordelia who did not know the warring in his heart.
I am afraid that I have found just that lady.
He startled a little when Cordelia’s eyes fluttered open, and when she smiled at him, a little sleepy but looking far less pale and much more contented, Nicholas felt his heart skip in a way that it had never done with any woman before.
This feels right, so why must I fight it?
“How’s Tim?” she asked in a low voice, leaning up a bit to look down at him, and at long last, the redness had gone from Tim’s cheeks. Nicholas laid a hand on the boy’s forehead.
“He is no longer so dangerously warm.”
If Cordelia’s first smile had practically brought him to his knees, then this second one was sure to kill him.
“Oh, I’m so glad!” she said, touching her hand to Olivia’s forehead. “Not too warm at all. Thank God!” She laid back with relief on her pillow and let out a soft laugh.
He too felt giddy as he rose from his bed and wrapped his dressing gown around him. He heard the shift of her also getting out of bed as gently as possible. His eyes were on her as she looked down at the children.
“Perhaps I can dare to hope?” she asked in a whisper.
“Yes, I think so.” He approached from behind her to look down at the children’s peaceful faces. “It was all due to you. Your efforts, and your idea to bring them back together again.”
She sighed but was smiling when she turned back to look at him. “I’ll be sure not to tell the doctor that I did that. It was a risk.”
“You like risks – if I remember rightly,” he teased.
“Do I?” she crossed her arms. “I have always felt the prim prude next to you, Nicholas. And your years of riling me up only brought that further to my attention.”
He chuckled, savoring the moment of ease between them. “Shall we go to breakfast? Together?” he asked, feeling like a nervous little boy as he awaited her answer.
She glanced at the children and then nodded. “Yes, I think so. Mrs. Browning can return the children to their beds upstairs.”
“Let them sleep for now. They certainly need it.”
Cordelia left to dress, and he did the same, a decision forming in his mind. Tim had recovered; Olivia was safe. His delay in returning home could have cost Tim his life, but yet now he’d been given another chance. It felt like the opening he needed to take a new step in his life.
I will perhaps promote Darren indefinitely. Let him manage the club more often so that I can remain home as much as possible.
Before, the thought of that would have terrified him, to think of leaving what he’d worked so hard for in the hands of another, but now, it felt right to do so.
He would still run the place, and it would still be his, bringing him joy and comfort after all his hard work, but perhaps it now no longer needed to consume him.
Feeling bolstered by this new decision, he went to breakfast, and he found Cordelia already there, a cup of tea in hand.
“You are late, Your Grace,” she said imperiously, and he grinned as he filled his plate.
“You mustn’t take my place, Your Grace,” he countered. “For I am the one who gets to say all the curmudgeonly lines.”
“Oh, is that so?”
He sat down and looked at her smiling face. She had seemingly transformed overnight, her eyes and cheeks bright, her smile happy. She had dressed in a light green, making the silky brown hair and deep brown eyes and lovely pink lips stick out more to him than ever.
By God, I have a beautiful wife.
This only added to the strength of his newfound decision. As he cut into his meat, he asked, “Are you happy, Cordelia?”
“Oh yes,” she said hurriedly. “So glad to see that the children are doing well. Mrs. Browning was very pleased, and it seems the whole house is relaxing again.”
“Good.” He nodded, wondering if he’d meant her to answer only that or if he’d wanted her to say she was happy in other ways as well.
He cleared his throat. “I wanted to tell you that now that the children are well, I –” He paused, looking at the strange expression on her face.
She looked like she was holding her breath, a little line forming between her brows.
“What is it, Cordelia?” he asked, worried that he’d said something terrible already.
“You mean to tell me you are leaving?” she asked, dabbing at her lips with her napkin.
He cleared his throat, a little gratified to see her disappointment at that, but he uncharacteristically didn’t wish to flatter himself.
“Well, I wanted to say that I have a few loose ends to tie up at the club today, which I wish to do as soon as possible. And then I will be back.” He smiled, hopefully comfortingly. “I promise.”
She blinked at him for a few seconds, her eyes not leaving his. “Very well. I understand. You have spent a lot of time here in the last few days. Your work must be piling up.”
She took a bite, looking somewhat comforted but not fully. Nicholas frowned. “Not at all. Darren will have had it well in hand. It’s early yet, so it won’t be open. I’ll just go in and handle a few matters. I just want to do a few things so that I can stay away for longer.”
“Oh,” she said, this time, her cheeks reddening. “Yes, of course. That is a good thing. The children will like that.”
She nodded and smiled, and Nicholas felt his heart sink a little. Was it really only about that for her? Had he really lost any such chance that this beautiful, intelligent, strong woman could care for him?
They spoke a little bit longer about the children, and then he took his leave, his mind confused. He was fearful about taking too big of a step, for it could turn out very poorly for him in the end, and he could lose everything.
I may not have had anything in the first place.
But there was something between him and Cordelia; he was sure of it, even if he frustrated her, and even if she tried to shy away from him every time he too shied away.
His mind was too preoccupied with his own thoughts that he hardly noticed when he’d arrived at the club until his door was hastily pulled open.
“Your Grace! A fire!” his coachman yelled.
Jumping out, Nicholas looked on in horror as his gambling den, his beautiful, hard-won, lucrative gambling den was going up in flames. Smoke billowed out of the windows, and it filled his nose with the acrid scent.
“Call for the constables, Morton!” he cried to his coachman and then coughing, he hurried forward to the door.
“Is anyone in there?” he cried out, but before he could reach it, someone yanked him back and shoved him down to the ground.
“You can’t go in!”
Swearing, Nicholas looked up to see his cousin, Leonard, looking over him, his eyes wide with fear.
“Leonard, what in God’s name? Is anyone in there?” he asked. “Were you here when the fire began?” he jumped to his feet.
“No one is in there,” Leonard replied in a gravelly voice. “I checked first.” He coughed, and Nicholas frowned as they moved away from the building, watching bits of the roof cave in.
His heart clenched. Everything – this building had been everything to him after his father had passed and he could use what power he had a as a duke to make a new start. So much blood, sweat, and tears had gone into the making of this place.
And now it crumbles before me.
He finally comprehended Leonard’s words and turned slowly to look at his cousin. “What do you mean, you checked first?” he asked, a cold dread threading through him.
Leonard swallowed and backed up, looking as weak as he always had. Nicholas frowned, things being pieced together slowly.
“You never cared that I should go home and enjoy my new wife and new family. That I should finally find happiness in domestic life? You wanted me out of the way.”
“I didn’t want this, to burn it to the ground. I –” Leonard stammered. “I needed the money, Nicholas. I have nothing, and you have everything. You did not wish to share. It needed to be taken back.”
“Taken back? As if I have taken what I’ve earned from someone? I built it myself, which you could have done too, you fool.” He spat on the ground. “You started this fire?”
“He – made me,” Leonard said, and just like that, as if appearing out of the smoke, stepped the Duke of Wexford.
He stood calmly, assessing the fire, both hands on his walking stick. “You’d be surprised at what a man will do for the sake of a little money. Even family will betray family.”
A slow smile grew on Wexford's face, and Nicholas felt sick. “You did this? Told him to burn the place down?”
“After he took the money that was in your safe, yes.”
Nicholas’s fists clenched at his sides, a stormy rage blooming within him that he knew would never be quenched.
“Why?” he asked, the word practically hissing out of him.