Page 4 of Raising the Duke’s Unexpected Twins

One Month Later

Cordelia felt a pain behind her eyes, and it made her want to close them and lie back on the sofa in her family’s sitting room. But the solicitor, Mr. Wolsley was speaking to her, and while she dreaded what he was about to say, she knew it already.

“Miss Debrett, I am so very sorry to be here at such a time and on such an errand.” He looked at her over his half-glasses.

Clearing the thickness of tears from her throat, Cordelia gave him a stiff smile. “It is your job, Mr. Wolsley, and I do not envy you this task. Please, I am ready to begin.”

“Very well, then.” The man cleared his throat and fiddled with his glasses as he drew a large, stiff bit of paper from his bag, laying it down on the table in front of him.

He had been offered tea but had refused. “Families do not usually like me to stay after the reading of the will, you understand,” he’d said, and she was glad for it. She wanted this all over as soon as possible.

Cordelia folded her hands as Mr. Wolsley unfolded the will, her eyes moving to a small pillow in the armchair next to him. It had grown so faded in the sunlight streaming in every day through their sitting room window, and she’d hardly noticed.

Well, it cannot be replaced. There is no money for such frivolities.

“Miss Debrett, are you ready?” the solicitor asked, and Cordelia nodded, wondering if he’d asked more than once, and she’d been lost in thoughts of pillows, desperate to think of anything but her best friend gone and gone forever.

She knew what the words in the will would be, and the thought frightened and calmed her at the same time.

“You will have the children, Cordelia,” Helen had told her once. “You are the only person I trust to raise them properly, if anything happens to us.”

“Very well, then.” He read through the initial formalities, and then said, “The children, Timothy and Olivia, if still underage at the deaths of their parents, will be placed under their godmother’s care, a Miss Debrett of Valeton House, London.”

The solicitor lowered the will, staring at her from across the sitting room. “You do understand what this means, young lady?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes,” Cordelia replied, an errant tear slipping from one eye, which she surreptitiously wiped away. “I have been ready for it, and I shall do my best. I shall not disappoint my friend.” Her voice was shaky, and it made her angry.

Weakness was foolishness, and she had to be strong if she was to raise two children now.

The solicitor frowned. “While I understand that these are the wishes of Lord and Lady Riverton, you must know that raising children is a costly affair. And…” he continued, glancing down at the will for a moment, his brow furrowed, “they did not leave you any money for such a purpose.”

Cordelia swallowed nervously. Money. It seemed endlessly to be a problem, and she could never be rid of it.

No matter. I will do this if it kills me.

“Yes, I know, Mr. Wolsley, but I shall manage somehow. Besides, I never expected any money from them. I will take as good care of Olivia and Tim as if I was their own mother.”

She rose from her seat, ready for the meeting to be over. She felt ill, but all she could think of was getting the children. It had been painful enough to wait a month, but it had been perhaps for the best. The last month had been spent in tears.

Mr. Wolsley hurried to fold the will and stand, looking bewildered. “Are you certain of this, Miss Debrett? Other arrangements could be made, I am certain.”

Cordelia, annoyed at his lack of confidence in her, shook her head. “No, I shall take the children. Where are they? When can I retrieve them?”

He adjusted his glasses. “Well, they are currently under their grandfather’s care, at his London home.” He looked away from her, almost sheepish, and Cordelia knew that His Grace, the Duke of Wexford, had no doubt made his opinions known about the will, and likely had attempted to bribe the solicitor or threaten him in some way in order to derive a different outcome.

“Yes, I know it. When may I get them?”

Grabbing his bag and returning the will into it, he said, “One week. By then, all the other matters of the will shall be settled, and you will be able to take them.”

“Very good. I will make preparations to retrieve them then.”

“Very good, Miss,” he replied with a nervous smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Wolsley.” She led him to the door and then returned to the sitting room, grasping the faded pillow from the chair and moving towards the large window that looked out onto the street.

Are you certain about this, Helen?

Cordelia had, over the years, attempted to imagine herself as a wife and a mother, but the picture had never really made sense in her mind. While the other young ladies around her rushed towards domesticity with abandon, she had never pursued it. There had always seemed to be so many other things to take care of. In fact, she was twenty-four years old already and quite on the shelf in the ton’s mind.