Cordelia stopped walking, gripping onto Rhys’s arm for support. “What?”’
“I’ve heard that the new duke is not interested in keeping the manor and its estate. Mother has money put aside. We could afford the sale.” Rhys’s eyebrows drew into a furrow. “Does that not please you?”
Cordelia did not know what to think. She’d expected Rhys’s proposal all along. It would secure her future, as well as that of her sisters’. Portia would not have to marry, Hermione couldcontinue to enjoy botany, and Bea could run wild to her heart’s content. And to boot, Hollyhead would be included. It was the perfect solution, so why was there a loud, resoundingNOchiming in her head?
And then there was another voice that rose up.I think marriage should only ever be an indulgence of love.
Pulling away, Cordelia looked up at Rhys. “Do you love me?” she blurted out.
Rhys blinked, unable to conceal the shock on his face. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, shaking his head, as though he’d heard her wrong.
“Do you love me?” she repeated, determined not to break his gaze.
“Lia…” he started, then paused, as though needing to gather his words. “Lia, I always assumed that this would be the way of things.”
“That wasn’t what I asked you.”
Rhys chuckled, doffing his hat and tucking a wayward strand of golden hair behind his ear. The gesture would have made her heart flutter a few years ago, but the illusion had been broken. Cordelia could clearly see that behind his bemused expression, he was broken.
“I would ask you to consider our friendship,” Rhys said. “Does that not count for anything?”
She wasn’t sure if she could answer that. But the one truth that had pervaded this entire conversation suddenly became quite apparent. Rhys did not want to marry her.
“Rhys,” Cordelia began, “we were so young… We have both changed. I don’t want you to feel obligated based on promises we made when we were practically children.”
“I can see you’re still the noble creature you were when I left you,” he replied. Cordelia scoffed at that; he didn’t know the half of it.
“But this has become bigger than the both of us,” he continued. “Lia… my mother has threatened to cut me off if I don’t go through with this marriage.”
Cordelia’s head began to spin. Rhys reached out to steady her. “What?” she asked again. “How could she possibly threaten that? You’re the eldest son!”
“She’s bringing a hammer down on me ever since… ever since… Well, I’m sure by now you know. All of the gossips over town have been nattering on about it for ages. The truth is, Lia, I am in love with her. And I will do whatever it takes to protect her. She won’t survive without my continued patronage.”
“Oh, Rhys,” Cordelia whispered. So, the Italian ballet dancer was more than a mistress; she’d captured his poor, broken heart.
Rhys gripped onto her forearms. “Cordelia,please. I need you to accept me.”
When she didn’t answer, Rhys pulled her closer. “I know that I am offering you half a man, but think about your house and your family. You will have them both, Lia.”
There were too many conflicting emotions whirling about in her head.Your sisters will be safe, she reasoned, but there was something tugging on her heart, stopping her from agreeing to this proposal. Other women got much less in such arrangements. Could she not be happy with Rhys?
“Lady Cordelia!”
Rhys released his grip on her arms, taking a step back as they both turned to watch Mrs. Norris waving frantically from the end of the reflecting pond. “Lady Cordelia!” she called again.
Cordelia began hobbling in her direction. “What is it?” she called. Cordelia was so relieved she could have fallen down weeping.
“It’s the duke!” she said, breathing hard, coming to a stop in front of her and Rhys. “The duke has taken ill with fever.”
“He seemed fine yesterday,” Rhys said, his voice strained.
“It’s the wound, my lord. It must have festered overnight.”
“God,” Cordelia breathed. She’d seen her father taken by a fever earlier this year. They would have to act quickly. “Has the doctor been called?”
“Yes, my lady. But he’s attending a birth and will be unavailable for some time.”
Cordelia could have kissed Mrs. Norris for the interruption. Crises always cleared her head. “Right, we must write to the duke’s mother and send for Henry Peverill.”
