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It appeared that he would be asking quite a bit of his shoes after all.

Chapter Twelve

The outside of Cordelia’s house looked so different, the paint and exterior patched up and sporting a clean shine. Charlotte shook her head as she took it all in, stepping down from the unmarked carriage Frederick had provided for her use.

He’d promised that it would be safer and more convenient for her to travel by carriage instead of on foot. Charlotte could hardly argue with her husband about that. It always unnerved her to travel alone through the streets, and the carriage inherently offered shelter and privacy.

This is not how I left her house. What has gone on?

Seeing Cordelia’s home looking so much fresher thanks to the renovations was enough of a shock that she stood outside the door for several moments before she remembered why she was there. Walking up to the door, Charlotte wrapped her knuckles on the repaired wood and waited for an answer.

“Charlotte,” Cordelia said, graciously opening the door with a smile.

Her color looked better, and the tired glaze over her eyes was thoroughly reduced. Charlotte grinned back, happy to see her looking in stronger health, and stepped inside.

"Cordelia,” Charlotte eyed the house around her, then nodded at the woman herself, “the house? You? It looks like a team of angels has been flying through granting miracles.”

Inside, the renovations continued, patches to the plaster, new wallpaper, drapes without tears or holes, and even a set of new chairs and a new table in the kitchen at the rear of the home. There was no possible way that Cordelia had afforded these things. She worked down at the textile factory not far from her house in the lower-income area of London, and it did not pay well enough to support these new furnishing.

Lord knows it hardly pays well enough to feed her and Kitty.

“I should say so, Charlotte. We’ve both slept better than we have in years. Well, Kitty’s first time at all, if I’m honest. It is warm in the house! Not a draft to be found!”

Cordelia was happier than Charlotte had ever seen her, floating like a cloud through the house. She guided Charlotte to the table in the kitchen, pouring her a fresh cup of tea that was neither too bitter nor reminiscent of the fouler water that the woman usually had in these parts.

“I’m truly happy for you, Cordelia, but I’ll admit that I am quite shocked. How did you come by all this? Have…”

Charlotte hesitated. She did not wish to assume something about her friend or insinuate that the woman had gone to unscrupulous means to earn a living. But the thought had crossed Charlotte’s mind. Were it not for her renewed health, she would have believed her friend had turned to prostitution.

“How have you managed to collect all this?” were the words Charlotte chose instead.

“It’s your Mr. Freddie!” Kitty shouted, a massive grin painted over the young girl’s face.

Furrowing her brow, Charlotte regarded the girl. The joy and excitement were clear, but who was this person Kitty referred to? Charlotte knew no one called Mr. Freddie, and it was impossible that?—

Wait. Oh, Lord. She couldn’t mean…

“Kitty,” Charlotte took the girl’s hand, offering a polite smile, “do you mean Frederick? My husband?”

She nodded, her grin growing even brighter. “Yes! He’s allowed me to call him Mr. Freddie because I adore it so.”

A hand landed on Charlotte’s shoulder, and she turned back to look at Cordelia. The woman smiled softly, leaning in as if to confirm her daughter’s words in earnest.

“The Duke did all this? The house? Your clothes?”

“And the physician just as he said.” Cordelia’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “He’s supported us even more than your dear brother. And we’ve been able to tell Magnus that we are well, that he can discontinue his aid which has strained your family considerably.”

It was true that they had been struggling to support Cordelia and Kitty. Magnus would never remove his aid, but he’d taken to penny-pinching in every other regard to ensure that Charlotte could continue to enjoy her time out with friends. Or that was at least what he’d told her.

“I can’t believe it. I knew that Frederick had promised to help, but…I did not expectthis.”

Charlotte looked around again, noting the improved conditions everywhere, the true joy on her friends' faces, and the way Kitty, in particular, seemed to be blossoming more than she ever had.

“He is agoodman, Charlotte. We will be forever in his debt and eternally grateful.”

She was at a loss for words, so when Kitty pulled on her sleeve and begged to play with Charlotte, showing her the new doll she had, there was no chance that the Duchess would refuse her.

“Of course, Kitty.” Charlotte stood, allowing the girl to pull her along by the hand toward her bed, where the sweet doll awaited them.