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“What?”

“The portrait,” he explained. “Mrs. Bellflower gave it to me before I left.”

Cordelia’s jaw slacked for a second before she snapped her mouth shut. She hadn’t even stopped to consider what the housekeeper decided to do with the piece of art. Though she remembered telling her to burn the thing, she was very glad the housekeeper decided against it. But, now as she avoided Michael’s watchful gaze, she wished to hide beneath the covers in embarrassment. The painting would have remained in the dark of her closest, if she had a say in it. She looked down at her hands, pulling up her blankets.

“Are you ashamed?” Michael asked.

“Well, I -” she stopped herself, her shoulders falling. “Yes.”

“What on earth for?”

Cordelia frowned. “Well, i-it was poorly done, you see, and I’d much rather -”

Sweeping forward suddenly, Michael caught her lips on his own, the kiss gentle but full of an unmistakable emotion. Warmth swelled within Cordelia’s chest. When he pulled away, his face looked as flushed as hers felt, the smile already growing along his lips.

“I plan on putting each and every one of your paintings up within Solshire.” He tilted his head, his smile growing into something mischievous. “Every last one.”

“All of them?”

Michael grinned. “All of them.”

After being an aspiring artist for so long, Cordelia never believed her work to be stellar enough to be put along a wall. There were a few in the orangery, but she always doubted there’d be other eyes looking at them. To put them within Solshire felt like an honor she never knew she was destined to be granted. Perhaps she was a true artist after all.

Cordelia was moments away from kissing him again, hardly able to come up with any words that were grand enough to express her gratitude, when a knock came from the door.

Michael rose and straightened his clothes.

The door crept open and Mrs. Bellflower stuck her head inside, her eyes almost popping out of her head at the sight of Michael.

“Y-Your Grace!” she exclaimed. “I had no idea you returned!” She glanced down at Cordelia, her lip twitching into a smile. “And all the color has come back to your face, your Grace! What splendid news!” She pressed into the room, leaving the door ajar. “If you are able to take visitors, your Grace, your siblings have arrived to see how you are faring.”

Cordelia glanced at Michael, who merely looked at her for an answer. “You may let them in, Mrs. Bellflower. Thank you.”

Michael quickly leaned over the bed, trying to get a few words out before the pair of siblings arrived within the chambers. “There is something I should -”

But then the Celeston siblings shot into the room, Irene quickly diving to Cordelia’s side. The moment Duncan trickled in after her, his eyes snapped towards Michael, his posture changing into something aggressive and forward.

“You,” Duncan spat, ready to point an accusatory finger at her husband. The anger stormed to his face almost instantly, as if the rage had been brewing there all along, just waiting for the moment it could be expelled.

Michael raised his hands. “I do not wish to duel you.”

Cordelia almost snapped up out of the bed, ignoring the bandages over her leg. “Duel?” She glared towards Duncan. “Did I not tell you, brother, to be rid of that foolish idea?”

“You fell into the lake, Cordelia!”

“Which was no one’s fault!”

Michael stepped closer to Duncan, bowing his head down respectfully. “The blame, despite what my gracious wife insists, rests on my shoulders,” he began. “I will take it and remember it for as long as I live.” Straightening himself, he faced Duncan with a serious and affirming stare. “The rest of my life will be spent making up for it. I have no plans of leaving Solshire again, and I hope that one day you might be able to place your trust with me, though I know that is something to be earned.”

Duncan, who was normally not one to be easily surprised, gaped at Michael. His eyes flickered towards Cordelia and Irene, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. As the silence began to settle into something awkward, Duncan cleared his throat, and stuck his hand out towards Michael.

“That was… Quite a fine start,” Duncan said with a nod.

Michael shook his hand, the both of them sharing incredibly stoic looks.

“Well,” Irene drawled, her attention turning back towards Cordelia, “Now that the gentlemen are finished playing -” she paused to hold the side of her sister’s face, “ - How are you?”

Cordelia breathed in deeply as she overlooked the people around her. All her life, she was burdened with the idea of who she wasn’t, and how it was the person everyone else expected. Instead of being wed when she was meant to be, Cordelia avoided it like a disease, intent on keeping her freedom or succumbing to a genuine love. In the end, she did what it was that her father demanded, and somehow managed to be beside Michael, a once beastly man who finally showed his true colors.