“Truce,” he said, holding out his hand.
Cordelia hesitated for a moment. But then she heard Portia’s voice in her head, chiding her for incivility, and shook Mr. Wright’s hand. Heat immediately rushed to her cheeks at the feel of his warm, callused palm against hers. She cleared her throat.
“Could I offer an idea? To help speed the sale of Hollyhead?” she said, hoping the high pitch in her voice wouldn’t betray her.
Mr. Wright balked. “That’s a turn of feeling.”
Cordelia’s heart hammered in her chest. “Yes,” she began, gathering her words. “I think that moving on… providing a sense of stability… especially for Hermione and Bea is very important. The most important thing. Hollyhead will always be their home, but I intend to make the transition as… as painless as possible.”
“We share in that, Lady Cordelia,” Justin said.
Cordelia sighed, smiling. “Well then, I was thinking we could host a ball. Invite everyone from the surrounding area and some family acquaintances from London. We could discreetly present the sale and allow it to circle the ton.”
Justin nodded his head, looking impressed. “I like that. Though, I have to tell you Lady Cordelia, I have never hosted a ball.”
“But you’ve attended them?”
“Yes, as Peverill’s friend.”
“Well,” Cordelia said, “I was hoping you would be open to hosting it at the beginning of June. The London season is just starting to kick off. It would allow us ample time to get ready. And perhaps you could make some inquiries for eligible young men to join.”
“Oh,” Mr. Wright replied, nodding his head. “For Portia, you mean? I was under the impression that you were already engaged.”
Cordelia’s eyes widened. “Who told you that?”
“Lady Billings. I ran into her not long ago when I was out for a morning walk. She made it very clear that she was anticipating an offer of marriage would be made.”
“That sneaky…” Cordelia muttered, feeling her blood boil, but stopped short when Mr. Wright raised his eyebrows. “Lady Billings is a fixture of Hertfordshire society, who has been our next-door neighbor for years. She… can become fixated on wanting things done a certain way. She’s been hoping for a match between our families for some time.”
“I see. Do you share that same view?”
“Well, seeing as Rhys—the Earl of Halton has been indisposed in France this past year with an Italian ballet dancer, I’d say his view is the one that has diverged.”
Justin shook his head. “Well… if that is the case, shall I make inquiries on your behalf?”
Cordelia knew her face was most likely a deep shade of scarlet. She’d always hated these discussions, even with her father, who was also of the mind of Lady Billings. He would push her to encourage Rhys, saying that it was almost time for him to settle down and he would need a respectable wife. It was difficult not to feel humiliated by Rhys’s very public dalliances. Could anyone blame her for donning a mask of indifference?
“If you like, Your Grace. Perhaps you should write to Rhys on my behalf?” Cordelia said. “Portia is highly opposed to the ideaof marriage. If one of us is to be wed and settled in the next year, it is more likely to be me.”
Cordelia looked at the carpet, hearing the crackling of the fire and the shuffling of papers. “If you’re sure… then yes, I can send a letter.”
“Thank you,” Cordelia said.
“Is Portia opposed to marriage because of her condition?” Mr. Wright asked, in that straightforward way of his. Though she found his pointed questions somewhat improper, she was becoming more used to his style of conversation. It almost felt like she was speaking with Portia; he addressed her as though she were an equal.
“Portia is headstrong and values her independence. I don’t think you’d be surprised to know she received several offers of marriage last year. Her deafness is not widely known. People think her eccentric.”
“My mother… my adoptive mother is also hard of hearing. She’s gotten adept at reading lips. Hardly anyone outside the family knows,” Mr. Wright replied. “Portia’s voice is a result of her lack of hearing? I know a fellow from the Royal College of Surgeons who could come and examine her.”
“Oh, she would hate that,” Cordelia said. “Our father never wanted anyone to know about… her deficiency. She’s become too proud to accept help.”
“Whatever she prefers,” Mr. Wright said.
Cordelia nodded her head. “I should also say that I am highly proficient in planning gatherings at Hollyhead. I can begin preparations right away.”
“Yes, that would be excellent,” Mr. Wright said, returning to his desk chair. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Lady Cordelia?”
Cordelia shook her head and curtsied. “Thank you, Mr. Wright.”
