Oh! What have they done? Aside from the clothing for Matthew and me, and supplies for the kitchen and spices, what more could I need?
“No need to frown my dear, I promise you, you’ll not be disappointed. Now spend a little time with Matthew. I am sure you’ll want to snuggle with the boy before we leave.”
How could she not? Nerves and excitement, all rolled up into one fiery ball, threatened to burst forth. She was really going to see him. Finally.
Later that night, they were parked in front of the entrance to the Wycliffe estate. Cordelia was still anxious, but Nathaniel was reviewing the plan.
“Now, just remember to keep your head down until we have been permitted entry. Once we are ushered inside and shown into the preferred room for this visit, I want you to stay confined to the shadows. Once Wycliffe is present and comfortable, I will give you the signal.”
Cordelia nodded as the marquess ran through her instructions. The beautiful, dark blue gown that he and his wife had gifted her with was reminiscent of the style of gown that suited her the most. Since having Matthew, although she had kept her hourglass figure, she was a bit more top heavy, as she was still nursing him. The black velvet cape that Isabel had loaned her covered every nuance of her body that would make her recognizable to the haute ton.
The marquess stepped out of the carriage and helped her down. Cordelia kept her gaze on the cobblestones leading up to Bastian’s door.
“My lord, ma’am. If you will follow me to the library, I will see if my master is up for a visit,” the butler declared with a scowl.
“I hope he is not too busy? We have much to discuss, and it is very important. Let him know that an audience with him is imperative.”
Overly tall and lean, the man had to be near ancient. He furrowed his brows, squinting for only a moment, as if discerning how to deliver—or more accurately, interrupt, Wycliffe. “Very well, sir, please wait here in his library.”
“That went well.”
“That is only the beginning. I wonder…Cordelia, if you were to stand in the corner by that bookcase…” He pointed to opposite side of the room where it was dark.
She nodded and made haste before anyone walked in on them.
“Perfect,” the marquess commented, a short moment before the butler entered.
“His lordship will join you momentarily. He only needs to dress. May I offer you and the lady some refreshment?”
“No, that will not be necessary. I do not plan on staying long.”
The butler bowed and left, Bastian arriving soon after. Cordelia noticed that his hair was mussed from the back. Has he been entertaining a woman upstairs? Has he truly moved on and found another lover? Her heart sank at the prospect. How could he replace me so…so…so…soon? It has not even been a full year.
Her hands trembled beneath her cape, and she could barely stand on her own. How she wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him how much she missed him.
“Thompson! What is so important that it could not wait until morning? Has anything happened?”
“Be easy, man. I assure you, Isabel and Emily are fine. I simply came here to escort a woman who desperately wanted to see you.”
He scoffed. “If this has anything to do with Mary Elizabeth, I—”
The marquess nodded, and Cordelia stepped forward into the glowing light of the fireplace. Bastian turned toward her, and when she lifted the hood of the cape, his eyes widened and his mouth gaped before he crashed to the floor from swooning.
“Oof! I have to admit, I did not quite expect that response.”
Cordelia abandoned her cape where she stood and ran over to him, dropping to her knees. Good heavens! What have I started? The man probably thought he was staring at a ghost. “Wake up, my love!” she whispered as the butler walked in.
“What happened?”
“He just swooned. I have it under control. If he was entertaining upstairs, can you see to the lady and have her sent home immediately? He will need some rest, and I am certain he will want some privacy.”
“Certainly, sir. I shall have her removed immediately.”
So, he was entertaining another woman. How could he… Fury simmered beneath the surface of her calm facade. Why had he never come to confirm if the reports were true? She always knew Richard would never waste a minute on her, but Bastian… They were so close. Kindred spirits. He should have been able to feel, somehow, that she was alive.
Disappointment washed over her. Instead of fawning over his swoon, Cordelia jumped to her feet, walked over to sideboard, and grabbed a bottle of port. Then, she returned to him and began to unscrew the cork.
“Cordelia, what are you doing?”
“Getting him to come out of his swoon.”
“With that?”
“Yes. Do you take issue with my course of action, my lord?”
The marquess stepped away and waved for her to continue.
“If you would rather leave, I am quite capable of waking and caring for him.”
“I will leave the two alone once I am assured you can stay. Though we should not stay too late.”
“And I assure you, my lord, once I have said what I have to say, he will probably want me removed from the premises immediately.”
“In that case, I will wait in the hall for you.”
Once his lordship closed the door behind him, she dumped the bottle of port over Bastian’s face. He sputtered at first, and when his eyes opened wildly, followed by oaths being muttered, he stared at her and jumped to his feet.
“Damnation, woman! You are alive!”
He practically collided into her to embrace her, and all she could do was slap him. Her hand stung from the impact. She instantly regretted her action, but how else was she to express her displeasure at his courting another woman?
Bastian growled at her. “What in the world was that for?”
“That was for not looking for me! And if I were you, I would stay back. I am liable to slap you again for entertaining other female guests.”
“Cordelia…please! You have to understand. All of the ton thinks you are dead. Hell, everyone thought you dead. The carriage was decimated.”
“But you did not come, not until that night in the inn, and even then, you were not searching me out. Tell me, how many whores have you entertained since my supposed death? Has anyone come close to pleasuring you the way I did so faithfully.”
The earl shook his head at her with vehemence. “Sweetheart, had I suspected there was even the smallest chance of your survival, I would have sought you out.”
I doubt that. “When you decide to come to your senses, I am only in town for a few more days. I did have much to say to you, but I am so furious with you right now, ’tis best I wait.” She walked toward the door.
“Cordelia…wait…” Stay here, love. There is plenty of room.”
“I did not travel alone. And, unlike you, I have a responsibility to see to. Adieu.” Cordelia opened the door to see the marquess gazing at her with a quizzical brow. “My lord, I am ready to leave.”
“Are you certain? You and Wycliffe appear to have unresolved issues.”
“Our issues will most likely remain unresolved until I can calm down.”
“Very well, come along. I am sure Duncan can fix you a nice tea to soothe you.”
Nothing could possibly soothe me. Nary a paddling could not handle. That is precisely what the oblivious earl required—a spanking to make him understand.
* * * *
“I cannot believe you dumped port on him, your grace.”
“How many times must I tell you, my lord, stop addressing me as so? Besides, Bastian deserved it. I am tired of being taken advantage of.”
The marquess cocked his head to the side as if she had said something trivial.
“What has you so perplexed, my lord?”
“I am just not sure how you think that you have been taken advantage of.”
Of course you have not noticed, you dolt. That
is because you are happily married and are not paying attention to what is actually transpiring. He has only moved on and forgotten all that we had.
“It matters not, my lord. Now that all the items have been collected, I will give Bastian one day to come to me. Otherwise, I shall forget his very existence. I am simply done playing games, and Matthew will grow up knowing his father died with honor instead of knowing how much of a cad he really is.” Cordelia folded her arms across her chest, leaned back into the seat of the carriage, and closed her eyes. As far as she was concerned, the discussion was over.
“Now, just wait on a minute, Cordelia! If you think that man did not mourn you, you do not know Bastian as well as you think you do. That man drowned in his sorrows for many months, risking his own welfare and family fortune. The guilt he carries about your affair, to never rescuing you from the clutches of Richard. You will never know the impact you truly had on him. Were it not for Lord Avonlea, I fear Bastian would have been a lost cause to all.”
What on earth is he talking about? Bastian had more sense about him, then to drink himself into oblivion. “I know not of what you are speaking. Indulge my curiosity, sir.”
The marquess huffed. “Forgive my frankness, Cordelia, but whatever I say now, I say in pure confidence. The Earl of Bridgeton some time ago confided in me that he pulled the gent out of Madame Martine’s establishment. ’Twas rumored he has a penchant for binding. He came in one night so foxed that I was asked to remove him. I know not of what transpired, but I do know that his obsession is with you.”
He paused for a moment and shook his head. “I tell you, were it not for Bastian, providence only knows what would have happened to my sister. You might as well know that your husband tried to marry her. We later discovered that he planned to ship her off to a brothel in Italy, as he had done to others, and had planned to squander her dowry. ’Twas quite the scandal. Even chief prosecutor, Sayers, was involved in the operation.”
“Are you telling me that Bastian had a part in stopping the wedding?”
“He did.”
“Pray, where is my husband now?”
“Last I heard, the man was rotting away in Newgate. Albeit, it is now rumored he has come down with some disease, and I would not be surprised if he has passed on.”
Passed on… What if Richard has died? Could I even resume a normal life in London? Matthew would benefit from the advantages of it, but I would never be well received again. However, the fact that Richard never went to look for me might be of assistance. This is such a mess! “Is there any way for us to verify his condition?”
Even if they did get confirmation of his death, what did she expect to do? It was not as if she could go back to living in her estate. She had no idea if there was a will, or if he had bequeathed her even the smallest of their properties. Good lord, there was simply too many things to consider, and not nearly enough time.
“Cordelia, what has you so disturbed? What are you thinking?”
“I am only wondering what, and if, my husband had bequeathed me. Seeing as I was assumed dead, and he is only at his crossroads now, I hardly think that all his assets have been obtained by the magistrate for auction.”
“I am not certain either, though, if you were willing to come out of hiding, we should be able to find out if anything was left to you, prior to the accident. Is that something you would like to risk?”
A risk—that is what all of this was. What originally had been one plan, now had been divided into a multitude of mini tasks and assignments. She should just keep with the original idea—invite Bastian to return to the country with her and tell him he had a son. However, she could figure out what her entitlements were and then retreat to the country once London realized that she had never really passed on, but was left for dead by her wretched husband.
While she was not in the market of looking for sympathy, if there was an opportunity to repay the kindness of the marquess and his lovely wife, and of Corinne, the second option would only be the way to do so.
“What I think, my lord, is that running away is for cowards. I shall not run away without truly knowing if I am returning to the country as a penniless dowager duchess. But I shall not grovel for wealth, either. Whilst these last few months have been hard, adjusting to the meager and pauper lifestyle, I still have my health and my son. And both will remain the same, with or without a title.”
“If I may be so bold, your grace. I think you are making the right decision. Though, be sure to understand that none of this will be easy. Once London is aware of your return, there will be scathing talk and hatred. Your husband was a vile man…”
“There is no need to remind me of that horrid detail, my lord. I was married to him, after all.” If there was one wish she was entitled to, she desperately hoped that her husband had perished. She had no desire to face him ever again.
“Where do we begin? I simply cannot walk into the estate and start ordering about the staff, nor can I summon his solicitor and begin the process. Will you be able to assist me with these things? You have already done so much for Matthew and I, and I would hate to impose on you further.”
“Make no mention of it, your grace. I will see what my man of affairs can find out for us.”
Most excellent. Perhaps things were beginning to look up, after all.
Chapter Five
Back in his library, Bastian still could not believe his eyes. He called out for his butler, and the man made use of his quick feet. “See that this is cleaned up. And do try to get the stains out, this is my favorite shirt.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bastian passed the elderly man his shirt and headed upstairs to his room. Christ! She is alive after all this time. How he longed to fuck her, but most of all, he could not wait to hold her in his arms again.
However, there was something different about her. In the few moments that he had managed to have a solid look at her, she had appeared a little plumper in the breasts. Not that he minded in the least. He would look forward to fucking those beauties in no time, but it was perhaps the change in demeanor. Something about how she had reacted.
Christ. How will the Duke of Downsbury react to learn that his wife is back from the dead? But wait, her husband has been stripped of his title, and from what I heard last at Whites, it is rumored that he has fallen ill and died. But did he?
This was all too much to digest in such little time. He had to sleep on this and give Cordelia time to calm down. The woman did have a wicked temper. He would wait until tomorrow afternoon to visit the Marquess of Stoughton’s estate, assuming she was staying with his family.
He wondered how the marchioness felt about their guest, considering it was rumored that her first husband the Duke of Brimley had an affair with her. He knew all too well, however, that the man had gone to her at his behest to deliver a personal message. Bastian knew he was not the first to fall prey to her feminine wiles, but he knew very well that she had changed her ways once she was with him.
As soon as they patched up this mess the two of them were in, he would look into the duke’s state. Were it proven that the man did indeed die in Newgate, he would marry the woman once and for all. If Downsbury still lived, then he would find another way for them to be together.
Bastian stopped outside his door and called down to his butler.
“Yes, my lord?” was the response.
“Before you retire for the evening, have one of my footmen send for my secretary in the morning. I need for him to make some inquiries, most urgently.”
Late the next morning, after a fitful night’s rest, Bastian readied himself before the looking glass. He tried not to look too fashionable, as his goal was to appear at Stoughton Hall without drawing too much attention. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to stop him and find out why he was decked out to the nines. He had a lady to impress, but most importantly, he had much to make up for.
“Will that be all, my lord?”
“Yes, Cedric. Would you ready my c
arriage, please? Also, I would like to have the blue room prepared for a lady’s visit. It is my hope to return with a companion that you have not seen in quite some time.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, my lord, who is it that you plan to return with?”
“I cannot divulge that information just yet Cedric, but as soon as I can, I will. The present situation is quite delicate, and it is a matter of urgency that I continue to keep that information guarded.”
“Very well, sir, are you in need of anything else while I am in town? I have a list of supplies from the cook, and if I get there early enough then, I will have the pick of supplies.”
“Other than my usual, I do not think I have need of anything else.”
The valet nodded and departed the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Bastian in the quandary of his thoughts. Would he dare tell her that he loved her? Would she even accept that, after the horror she had been through? The only thing he could think of was all the different ways she could tell him “no.”
Cordelia would be in her every right to deny him such an honor, yet, he could not imagine losing her once again. This time he would not stop until she was his. Bastian adjusted his cravat and turned to leave his quarters. Hopefully, in a few hours, he would be joined in them by Cordelia.
The house had been dreadfully quiet and lonely as of late. Even despite having Daisy entertain him here, it still did not take away the fact that she was not his Cordelia.
Nothing could change the fact that he wanted his woman back, and he would stop at nothing. If she rejected him today, then he would try again. Bastian would continue to ask her until she agreed.
* * * *
Cordelia paced her room frantic and worried that she was running out of time. In the meanwhile, Matthew had not slept, nor had the entire household. Her son had cried non-stop all night, eventually waking up the marquess’ twins. Her hosts tried to assure her that perhaps he was teething.
A nursemaid had brought in a dram of brandy throughout the night, advising her to dip her finger in it and dab it on his tongue. It had helped, thought it did not make her feel any better. Matthew was beginning to run a fever, and without medical attention, who knew what could transpire. She could not bear the thought of anything happening to her son.
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