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“Have you considered giving the portrait to the Duke?”

Cordelia’s brow shot up. “I haven’t, actually. Do you take it to be a good present, Mrs. Bellflower?”

“I do not see why not,” she replied. “It is too well done to be ridiculed or tossed away, your Grace. I believe the Duke would appreciate it more than you may realize.”

Cordelia decided she would consider it, though she couldn’t imagine truly handing the portrait over. Perhaps she liked it too much, or was too embarrassed to think about sharing it with Michael after all. Turning back towards the dresses, Cordelia swallowed down her nerves. The only way forward, to the future she so desperately wanted to grab a hold of, was through courage. Cordelia needed to fill herself with self-confidence, to believe that whatever she wore or however she presented herself would end with Michael pleased to be by her side.

“What of this yellow one?” Cordelia pulled a light dress from the pile, holding it up in front of her for the housekeeper to see. “Spring enough for the garden, but flattering at the same time, no?”

Mrs. Bellflower’s smile grew till she was beaming from ear to ear. “It is perfect, your Grace. You must get ready at once!”

Rushing with a new sense of urgency, Cordelia changed into the yellow gown and sat to have her hair done. Mrs. Bellflower worked quickly behind her, twisting and pinning Cordelia’s curls till there wasn’t a single strand covering her face. As she looked at herself in the mirror, Cordelia felt her security wither. There were plenty more beautiful things to see in a garden than herself. And Michael arranged their attendance in order to finally squash the rumors against them once and for all.

Would he even pay her any mind, or would he be too engrossed with convincing the Ton of their companionship rather than actually having a companionship?

Cordelia shoved the thoughts away. They were hardly relevant now that she was dressed and ready to go. She rose from her seat to stand in front of the housekeeper, her arms outstretched to either side of her.

“Well?” she asked. “How do I look?”

“Beyond the descriptions of words,” Mrs. Bellflower cooed. “Absolutely beautiful, your Grace.”

Cordelia felt herself smile broadly. “Well, now, then, I -”

Knock! Knock!

The rush of quick, short knocks was followed by the door opening up a crack.

“Your Grace?” Hunters whispered into the room.

Cordelia crossed the room to pull the door open fully. “What on earth is the matter, Hunters?”

“Have you seen the time, your Grace?” he asked before raising his pocket watch, the hands slowly ticking. “I am afraid you are running the risk of arriving late, your Grace!”

“Oh,devils!”

Cordelia whipped around for her gloves before frantically glancing around for her fan but coming up empty handing.

“What surprising language, your Grace,” Hunters teased, another rare smile slipping across his face.

“Your Grace!” Mrs. Bellflower, like an angel, swooped in front of Cordelia with the fan in hand, holding it out for her. “Hurry, now!”

Excitement mixed with an unpleasant surge of nervousness swirled in Cordelia’s stomach. She could hardly remember the last time she felt that way. Anticipation for one thing, but dreadfully afraid about another. The idea of seeing Michael so soon after their tumultuous day beforehand was entirely thrilling. Cordelia’s slew of newly realized feelings rushed her out the door, carrying her down the hall as she ran towards Michael.

At the same time, questions blared across Cordelia’s mind. How will her life look in the coming weeks? What would life be like beside Michael if he remained in Solshire? Could Cordelia be faced with a happiness she never thought she had the chance of receiving?

Cordelia grew so overwhelmed with emotion that she could hardly see where she was going. She merely flew ahead, eagerly and restlessly awaiting the man she had grown to dislike as much as she was intrigued.

Whipping around a corner, Cordelia grew intensely lightheaded, the world around her growing unbearable foggy for a split second. When she regained herself, about to walk the rest of the way, Cordelia slammed against a hard and warm surface, a resounding grunt vibrating across her face.

Oh, devils.

“Whorunsindoors?” Michael snapped, his voice deep and tense.

Cordelia staggered as she took in her surroundings, suddenly aware of the fact that she gripped onto Michael’s coat rather tightly. His hands hovered over her waist, his palm accidentally brushing against her side every once and a while. Each time he managed to touch her, Cordelia’s heart beated faster and faster.

She pulled her gaze up towards him. An unmistakable red hue began to crawl across Michael’s face. It snuck up around his collar before following the grooves and tendons in his neck, and swallowing his entire face whole. The deeply unforgiving color began to spread to his forehead when Cordelia realized what was happening.

Cordelia took a step backwards, releasing her hold on him though she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to. “It’s rather fun.”