Page 23 of Duke of the Sun (Regency Sky #1)

CHAPTER 22

O nce, Cordelia thought herself to be quite fond of the outdoors. The sun, she believed, healed her in more ways than she could even imagine. While doctors might wave around their remedies as the cure for any sickness, Cordelia simply needed to spend some time outside, and found herself to be repaired beyond belief. It was not until she faced the greatest wound she might ever encounter that the sun failed to do what it was meant to.

Four days ago, Michael took his leave from Solshire.

On the first day, Cordelia remained in her chambers, stuck to the window. She watched him leave on horseback, watched as he took a final look at the life he left behind, his gaze looking up where she stood - though she believed it to be a trick of the eye. Without a moment to lose, Michael sped off, the horse kicking up dirt with how fast it went. He was gone within an instant. Despite his immediate disappearance, Cordelia found herself to be stuck to the window. Even if she wanted to, her feet remained still, the only movement coming from her insistent heartbeat.

When it came time for lunch, a knock came from her door, and familiar footsteps echoed through the bedroom. And yet, Cordelia hardly had the strength to look over her shoulder, to leave her spot in the rare case that Michael returned over the horizon.

“Your Grace,” Mrs. Bellflower cooed from behind her. “It has been quite some time since you’ve eaten, or even taken a seat.”

Cordelia remained there still, all the words she wished to say trapped behind her tightly shut lips. The housekeeper stepped closer to her, the woman’s short reflection slowly appearing on the window. Concern was etched onto her face, undeniable pity lacing her eyes, visible even in the muddled reflection.

Mrs. Bellflower treadded closer. “Won’t you eat something as simple as crackers, your Grace? A few sips of tea?”

“I cannot,” Cordelia breathed, her voice unrecognizable. “Do not make me.”

The housekeeper let out a sad sigh. “I wouldn’t dare to, your Grace.”

And, without another word, Mrs. Bellflower took her leave, making sure to gently shut the door behind her. From where she stood, Cordelia watched the sunset. Perhaps her head met the pillow at some point, but she could hardly remember. Maybe she leaned against the wall and slept, or curled up alongside the windowsill, waking up every hour to peer outside, each time hoping to see Michael appear at Solshire’s front steps. The disappointment sunk so deep into her that the hunger or thirst she must have felt went unnoticed. There was only a growing sense of despair, the realization that her life was returning to a period of solitude too much for her to sanely bear.

On the second day, it was Hunters who entered her bedroom. He remained at the threshold, his hands held behind his back. Cordelia noticed him, suddenly, in the window’s reflection, entirely unaware that he even opened the door. She glanced at herself within the window, noticing how there were dark circles beginning to creep beneath her eyes, a hollowness taking over her normally round and pink cheeks.

“Your Grace,” Hunters called out to her, “Perhaps a trip to the orangery would do you some good.”

The moment he said orangery, Cordelia flinched, the memory of Michael’s lips upon her own rattling her to the core. She clutched onto the curtain, afraid that her legs might give out from beneath her.

“Do not speak to me of the orangery,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and scratchy from a lack of water. “Do not.”

Hunters remained there for a few moments, merely watching her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Cordelia watched him bow in the window’s reflection.

“As you wish, your Grace,” he murmured, before leaving, and shutting the door behind him.

There was not much more that she remembered happening during her dark days. Cordelia remained beside the window for as long as she could, till Michael’s absence stretched onto the fourth day. She allowed herself a few moments of a reprieve, leaving the windowsill to rest her legs or change the old dress she wore. In the end, she always returned to the spot, refusing to leave it for something to eat or drink. Even when her dog, Silas, yipped at her feet, desperate for some attention, she turned the yorkshire terrier to one of the members of staff instead.

On the fourth day, when the sun was high in the sky, a distant storm creeping over the horizon, bringing a sharp chill to the air, Cordelia’s bedroom door snapped open once more.

“Good Lord, Cordelia!”

She flinched at the familiar voice, surprised at her siblings' sudden arrival. Cordelia turned away from the window, her eyes falling upon Irene and Duncan within the threshold of her bedroom. Behind them, Mrs. Bellflower lurked before disappearing down the hall. Though Cordelia wondered what the staff might’ve told them about her recent attitude, she was not bothered enough to ask. Her gaze slowly slipped back towards the front lawn of Solshire.

“What has happened to you?” Irene asked, her voice gentle but dripping with a deep concern. “Our correspondence went flat, so I insisted Duncan come along with me for a visit. This was the last thing I expected to find.”

Duncan stepped into the room after her, his dark brow sharply furrowed as he looked around. “Gracious, Cordelia, you look as if you haven’t slept in days.” He stormed forward, one hand grabbing a hold of her wrist to pull her away from the window. “You looked like a downright ghost in that damned window when our carriage arrived.” Duncan investigated her face closer, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Irene, fetch a servant. I demand an audience with the Duke of Solshire!”

Cordelia shook her head. “You will come up as empty handed as I have.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“Michael no longer resides in Solshire,” she whispered, barely having enough energy to raise her voice. “He left days ago.”

Irene stepped forward. “Dear sister, what has happened?”

As Cordelia recounted the events that drove Michael far from her side, she allowed Duncan to guide her towards a chair, unable to deny how gracious she was to let her legs rest for a moment or two. Seeing her beloved siblings was a wonderful change towards staring out into the front of Solshire, though she felt quite adamant about returning to her position the moment she could.

Irene took a seat beside Cordelia, letting her arm drape across her shoulders, pulling the youngest sibling into a tight embrace against her bosom. “I can hardly understand what madness struck the Duke for him to leave in such a sudden way.”

“Who cares about understanding his reasons?” Duncan was pacing in front of the sofa in which his sisters sat, his hands clenched into tight fists on either side of him. Duncan’s heavy breathing filled the air as his anger grew. “I ought to seek the man out and demand a duel the moment I lay my eyes upon him! To deliver such disrespect to a Celeston, a sibling of mine, it drives me more up a wall than anything else!”

Cordelia suddenly shot up from her seat. “You will do no such thing!” The sudden movement swayed her head slightly, the room spinning for a moment. “Duncan, do you hear me?”

He paused in his pacing, eyeing her over his shoulder. “You can hardly stand, Cordelia.”

“I am fine,” she snapped, crossing her arms as the dizziness threatened to topple her. “I am standing now, am I not?”

“Cordelia -”

Irene rose alongside her, resting a gentle hand over Cordelia’s shoulder. “Might we settle for a simple walk in the sun, sister?”

Cordelia eyed her temperamental brother, who looked to have no intention of settling for something as simple as a walk. “If I agree to leave my chambers,” she began, “Duncan must promise not to approach Michael. Especially not with the intention of summoning a duel.”

Irene smiled. “I believe that to be a fair compromise.” She shot a glare towards their brother. “Don’t you agree, Duncan?”

His dark stare flicked between the two of them before thrusting an accusatory finger in Cordelia’s direction. “A walk, Cordelia,” he snapped. “A long one, at that. Throw in some food afterwards, and I’ll be satisfied.”

Cordelia let a small smile pull across her lips, though she did not feel it to be genuine. “If you wish, brother, I will see it done.”

The Celeston siblings lingered a little longer before taking their leave, satisfied with Cordelia’s agreement to take a walk around Solshire. She left her chambers once they left, ignoring the surprised looks the staff gave her.

Outside of the estate, a thunderstorm approached in the distance. It lingered over the treetops, an enveloping darkness swallowing up the countryside the closer it came. Cordelia quite enjoyed how it looked, and in any other time, she might’ve found herself quick to capture a painting of the dramatic landscape. The trees seemed to lean towards the oncoming rain, desperate to catch a droplet or two upon its leaves.

Cordelia followed a narrow dirt path around the estate, one that dipped down towards the lake. A gentle wind coaxed ripples throughout the water, the sharp grass swaying back and forth in rhythm with it. Cordelia crept closer to the ominous water, noticing how it reflected the darkness growing in the sky overhead. She went further to the lake, ignoring how the ground became muddy alongside the shore, her indoor shoes failing to provide enough support against it. Despite that, she continued forward still, finding herself to be almost hypnotized by the quiet waves.

Thunder crashed in the distance, jolting Cordelia. She slipped against the mud slightly, her foot dipping into the icy cold water before she managed to regain her balance. But the wobble brought along an unavoidable dizziness, one that came along from her lack of appropriate sustenance. Even when she swayed and trembled, her vision growing unfocused as she looked over the water, Cordelia refused to turn around. There was something about the lake that reminded her of Michael. Perhaps it was the unseen mystery that laid beneath it, or the unusual lull that radiated off it.

Cordelia took another step as a gust of cold wind rushed through her, as if she were made of nothing but bones. The dark storm approached quicker than she thought it would, the wind growing stronger and more forceful with each gust. Cordelia shivered, and the world spun around her. Feeling rather faint, she took a single step away from the lake, realizing that she was close to teetering into unconsciousness.

“ Oh! ”

Cordelia released a sharp gasp as she lost her footing, the muddy ground giving way from beneath her. Unlike last time, when she managed to regain her balance, Cordelia lacked the strength to do so. She wavered and shook, her legs giving out and forcing her to tumble into the icy water.

The inky black lake greedily swallowed her up.

For a moment, Cordelia felt rather at home. It was dark and cold, wrapping itself around her like a blanket. She reveled in the lake, everything that had once plagued her slowly slipping out of her mind. But then, as she faced the growing darkness, Cordelia could see Michael’s face within it, and the pain rushed back forward.

Cordelia splashed out the surface of the lake, her arms flailing in the air as she desperately clawed against the shore.

“ Your Grace! ”

Figures ran from the estate, rushing down the short hill and towards the lake. She imagined seeing Michael within the rush of people, imagining that it was him who reached into the darkness for her. Though she knew that hardly wasn’t the case, arms hoisted her out of the lake, and rested her against the grassy shore. Cordelia felt the coughs and gasps leave her lips, though she could hardly catch her breath. The cold clung to her mercilessly, her limbs trembling nonstop. Even when cloths were draped across her, even when the arms returned to hoist her off the ground, the chill never left.

“I believe her leg to be fractured,” a voice said on her left.

“We must fetch the doctor,” another exclaimed to her right.

Countless sounds filled the air around Cordelia, but everything was too muddled for her to truly see them. Instead, all she could see was Michael, who stood in front of her in her imagination. He reached for her, radiating the warmth she seemed unable to grasp. Cordelia tried to reach but her arms felt as heavy as stone. Michael inched further and further away from her, the cold grasping a hold of her heart and refusing to let go. She wished to beg, she wished to plead to be rid of the lake, of how it grasped a hold of her, but it was to no use.

Michael was not at Solshire. Michael did not return in the lick of time to rescue her.

Cordelia wept as the staff carried her back into the estate.