Page 6 of Duke of the Sun (Regency Sky #1)
CHAPTER 5
T hough it was only spring, a deep heat came quickly and suddenly the next day. There was a gentle breeze, every now and then, that soared up from the direction of the lake. It felt coaxing and gentle, though it hardly helped against the smoldering sun’s stare.
Cordelia rose early in the morning to tend to the orangery. Many estates in London found themselves building them, though most tended to have them connected to the original building. Cordelia, on the other hand, uncovered a rather stunning design of an orangery disconnected from the estate itself, instead acting as a hub within the garden. It all gave off a fantastical aura to the estate, as if mystical beings and ghosts lurked in the garden’s shadows.
By that point, when the sun just began to reach over the distant treetops and hills, Cordelia already had beads of sweat trailing down her face. The workers arrived for the orangery right on time. And despite most things going strictly to plan, Cordelia found herself searching and wandering the estates back fields for the butler, Hunters.
“Mrs. Bellflower!” Cordelia called out from the back of the garden. Across the way, just coming out of the estate’s backdoors, was the housekeeper. Cordelia waved her arm in the air. “Over here, Mrs. Bellflower!”
The housekeeper carried her skirts as she rushed over. Rosy cheeked and out of breath, Mrs. Bellflower held a hand to her forehead tiredly. “Dear me,” she cooed, “How can you survive this heat, your Grace?”
“I suppose it is quite sweltering, isn’t it?” Cordelia asked with a light laugh. “I can’t quite help but enjoy it. The outdoors, the fresh air. Heat or not, I soak it in like I am nothing more than the flowers we grow.”
Mrs. Bellflower laughed. “What can I help you with, your Grace? You looked to be rather in a tizzy before.”
“Before the Duke’s arrival,” Cordelia began, a sour taste entering her mouth at the mention of her husband, “Hunters agreed to help me watch over the work being done at the orangery. I’m afraid there’s only so much I can do with my own two hands.”
“Well, you quite enjoy doing the work yourself, don’t you?”
Cordelia smiled. “In some ways. To be hands on every now and then is rather invigorating.”
“Oh, silly me,” Mrs. Bellflower blurted. “Are you looking for the butler, then, your Grace?”
“I am.”
Mrs. Bellflower looked back to the estate. “I suppose I last saw him tending to chores inside, your Grace. Would you like me to look for him?”
“Perhaps some time away from the sun could do me some good,” Cordelia replied. “Won’t you keep an eye on the workers while I am away, Mrs. Bellflower?”
The housekeeper gave her a nod. “Of course, your Grace.” Picking up her skirts once more, Mrs. Bellflower began to make her way down across the hedge maze.
Cordelia looked over the view. In the distance, she could make out the workers moving to and fro, carrying their supplies and pulling carts. The work did not have much longer to go. Soon, the one thing she looked forward to the most would be finished. She glanced back forward towards the estate. And then, there would be nothing to fill her time, in a place where she had no one alongside her. The Duke’s words from the day before came back in a haunting sort of way.
Once I have cleaned up the mess you have made, I will return to my private estate.
The brooding husband she barely knew would be gone before she knew it, if only she was patient enough to survive it. Despite her feelings towards it, and how frustrated he made her, Cordelia’s mind always drifted back to their wedding day. There was no love about it, but rather, something new and alluring, a mysterious gentleman with frightening scars standing before her. Cordelia shivered despite the heat and walked up the stairs towards the estate’s back door.
As soon as she stepped over the threshold, Cordelia was met with a cool breeze. The opened windows merely let in the wind, the sun not exactly peering through yet. She took in the shadows and dimly lit rooms eagerly, feeling the heat slowly fade from her skin.
Cordelia passed through the kitchen and working members of staff. They all greeted her kindly with smiles and bows. She continued her way through the halls and up the staircase, peering into rooms and growing more annoyed by the second. The longer she was away from the work, the less things she got to see get done. If there was one thing Cordelia realized throughout her time alone, it was that, deep down, she was a perfectionist.
And besides, the butler agreed to the work weeks ago. In fact, he had already done the work, before the Duke had ever arrived. Cordelia bristled at the idea of things changing just because her beastly husband decided to stick around for longer than a day.
Her walking quickly became a march, the sweat returning to her forehead once more. Twisting around a corner, Cordelia slowed as a few familiar voices grew louder. Down the hall, a few servants moved in and out of a room, carrying furniture out while bringing older furniture in. Cordelia gaped. Those are my new furnishings! Another servant pulled in a distinctly familiar colored desk. And that is from the old set!
Cordelia’s hands tightened into fists as she stormed down the hall.
“The desk used to be on the northern side,” Michael was saying from within the study. “The one with the oak.”
“Yes, your Grace.”
Cordelia stood on the threshold, hands placed firmly on her hips. Within the room, a few servants lingered near the pair of desks, lifting it a foot in the air to move it around. Beside them, Hunters pointed to where they needed to go. In the center of the room, directly across from where Cordelia stood, was the Duke.
For a moment, she was shocked into stillness. The Duke wore a white button down that had been tucked into his trousers, a vest tightly fitted above it. The sleeves puffed along his arms, and were bunched up to his elbows. The Duke pulled his longer hair into a small tail at the back of his head, a few stray strands framing the sides of his face. He turned, eyes falling upon her heavily.
Almost instantly, the Duke glowered at her. “Your Grace,” he said, bowing his head.
“Good morning, your Grace,” Cordelia began, keeping herself civil. “I hate to be a bother, but -”
The Duke looked away, shaking his head ever so slightly.
Cordelia glared. “ But, Hunters agreed to help me in overseeing the work being done on the orangery.”
“He is busy,” the Duke replied. “More to the left.”
The servants scooted the desk.
“Your Grace,” Cordelia blurted, “I must insist. As the work on the orangery comes to a close, these final repairs are pivotal to the longevity of the crops kept inside.”
The Duke turned to face her once more. “The work you claim to be so important cannot be contested to the work that needs to be done here ,” he said. “If I am to be here, I need to be able to work.”
Cordelia held her hand up towards the servants removing the new furniture. “What was stopping you from working with how it was?” she asked. “Everything you needed was already there.”
“You wouldn’t know what I needed.”
“Does the furnishing displease you that much? That it renders you unable to do your tasks?”
The Duke took a threatening step closer to her. “Do I need to remind you who I am? To whom everything here belongs to?”
“You don’t need to,” she hissed. “You’re already bringing back the old furniture!” Cordelia raised her hands, trying to calm herself down. “Your Grace,” she began through gritted teeth, “I would very much like to make sure the orangery turns out the way I would want it to be. Unfortunately, I doubt I can do it on my own. Weeks ago, Hunters began helping me on this endeavor, and committed himself to it. You surely wouldn’t miss him for an hour or two, would you?”
The Duke paused, his face going incredibly still for a moment. His expression was unreadable, eyes only narrowed slightly and his mouth drawn in a fine line. Slowly he pressed forward, till he loomed over her.
“I will remind you one more time, your Grace,” he said in a quiet, growly voice. “I am here now. Hunters is, and will always be, my butler. Your orangery continues production for one reason and one reason alone. Do you know what that might be, your Grace?”
Cordelia stared up at him, determined to show him how confident she could be. She ignored the feeling of sweat trickling down her face and the length of her spine. For a moment, she imagined how wild she must have looked: her hair unkempt and windblown, sweat trailing down dirt-stained cheeks, tall work boots reaching up to her knees.
Cordelia lifted her chin, her face inching closer to his own. “No, your Grace.”
The Duke’s glare deepened. “ Me .”
She flinched, her demeanor faltering for a second.
“You do not give me orders,” he whispered. “Do you understand?”
Cordelia nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. The Duke’s gaze snapped down to her lips for a moment before they went back up. He turned away almost instantly, returning to watching the servants move around his furniture. Beside them, Hunters remained, not once daring to give Cordelia the slightest look of support.
She knew that, once, she was nothing more than a stranger in those halls. The rest of them were entirely strangers to her, too. But after the years, as she melded into her role as Duchess more easily, Cordelia felt as though she earned the respect of the entire staff. Suddenly, with the Duke’s arrival, everything she had already done seemed to go out the window, no longer mattering in the grand scheme of things.
Cordelia, embarrassed and enraged beyond belief, did not dare give the Duke the respect of a bow. She merely turned, and marched out from the study.
“I will do every bit of it myself. ”