Cordelia’s laughter bubbled out freely now, and she felt lighter, the tension in her chest easing just a little. Matilda’s self-mocking humor was doing exactly what she intended:distracting Cordelia from her own worries and giving her a momentary reprieve from the heaviness of her thoughts.
“You make quite the picture, Matilda,” Cordelia said between giggles. “A damsel tormented by an insufferable rake.”
“And yet,” Matilda replied, rolling her eyes again, “I endure it all for the sake of keeping my dignity intact… and for your amusement, apparently. But it does seem to work, doesn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” Cordelia beamed, grateful for her friend’s company in such a dark moment.
As soon as Mason stepped into Mr. Greely’s office, the man’s voice greeted him.
“I’ve been trying to reach you, Your Grace,” Greely said without preamble, looking up from a stack of papers.
“I haven’t been reading my letters,” Mason admitted.
Greely gave a sharp nod and pushed a folder across the desk toward him. “I found something among the documents the Duchess left in my care. There are correspondence, legal contracts, and personal papers that definitively show her parentage. Lord Vernon has no claim to her inheritance. It belongs solely to Duchess Cordelia and no one else.”
Mason blinked, absorbing the weight of Greely’s words. His heart, which had been heavy with worry, skipped a beat.
“And there’s more,” Greely continued, leaning forward. “I’ve traced Vernon’s dealings. He’s been in contact with some very unsavory characters, unscrupulous lawyers, some men who deal in forgery and blackmail. If we gather sufficient evidence, I believe we can ensure he spends significant time in prison, effectively removing him as a threat to your wife.”
Mason’s jaw tightened. He could hardly believe it. Relief mingled with disbelief. Cordelia’s position, her safety, the injustice of her mother’s betrayal, all of it suddenly seemed salvageable. Yet, the thought of what Vernon had done, the depths he would sink to, made Mason’s hand tighten into a fist.
“Greely,” Mason said, voice firm but controlled, “we will find everything, won’t we? Everything that proves him unfit to touch so much as a shilling of her fortune?”
Greely met his gaze evenly. “We will. And once we do, Your Grace, Vernon will have no power over her nor over you. He’ll be dealt with swiftly, and thoroughly.”
Mason leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he picked up one of the papers Greely had set before him. “I need details, Greely. How solid is this evidence? I need to be absolutely certain before I move against Vernon.”
Greely nodded, placing his hands on the desk. “Every letter, every contract, every record in this folder points unequivocallyto the Duchess’ legitimacy. The documents she left with me, letters from her father, estate papers, baptismal records, leave no room for Vernon to maneuver. He is simply not entitled to a single farthing.”
“And how did you discover all this so quickly?” Mason asked, still skeptical. “I’ve been buried in letters for weeks and hadn’t noticed a hint of this.”
Greely allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. “I went through everything in her possession immediately when she left the documents. It was methodical, cross-referencing with parish records, the legal archives, and some private correspondence I had received in confidence over the years. Vernon, in his arrogance, left traces of his schemes. Once I had the papers in hand, the inconsistencies in his story became glaringly obvious.”
Mason exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and incredulity flooding him. “So, it’s all here. Proof, undeniable proof. And you’re confident this will hold up against him?”
“I am, Your Grace,” Greely replied firmly. “Vernon will find no allies in this, not when confronted with the truth. If he attempts to press his claims, he will be exposed, and the law will act decisively.”
Mason leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes as the weight of the day settled on him. He couldn’t quite believe that everything had been sorted out. Greely’s words echoed in his mind.
“You have nothing to worry about, Your Grace,” Greely said, his tone reassuring. “Your wife’s inheritance is secure. You both can live the rest of your lives in peace, happily ever after, if that is your wish.”
Mason let out a short laugh, one part disbelief, one part longing. The idea of a true, untroubled life with Cordelia made his chest ache with hope, but he pushed it down. She would be happy on her own. She had her inheritance, her independence, her freedom. She didn’t need him to keep her safe from Vernon anymore.
And yet, he couldn’t shake the memory of her sadness, the quiet heartbreak he had glimpsed when he reminded her of their arrangement when she had gone to Matilda’s. She had chosen distance over closeness, and in that moment, he had felt both relief and despair. He didn’t know what to believe anymore: whether she truly wanted freedom or whether she had simply convinced herself she did.
Greely’s voice pulled him from the spiraling thoughts. “Are you all right, Your Grace?”
Mason straightened abruptly, forcing a grin. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” He stood, smoothing the front of his coat, feeling the familiar surge of determination. “I have pressing matters to attend to.”
He left the office, Greely’s assurances ringing in his ears, and stepped into the crisp air. The carriage waited, horses stamping impatiently. As he climbed in, Mason’s mind raced ahead, planning his next move.
He would speak with Cordelia. He would tell her the truth of his feelings. And if she still wanted only the arrangement, he would honor it, but he would try. He would not let fear or propriety silence him this time.
As the carriage rolled through the streets toward her refuge, Mason felt the pulse of determination in his veins. This time, he would leave no word unspoken.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The candles upon Matilda’s polished mahogany table burned low, their wax pooling into delicate dishes of silver. Outside, a soft drizzle tapped against the tall windows while the scent of roasted pheasant lingered warmly between the two friends. Cordelia lifted her glass, allowing herself a sense of calm after weeks of restless thought.
