Page 36

C ordelia lingered outside of the church.

Not many people were in attendance at her wedding.

It was an affair with incredibly short notice, just under a week from when her father had told her she would be wed.

Only her immediate family attended, and she hadn’t seen anyone enter for the groom’s side.

It was looking to be an incredibly grim ceremony.

Out from the church came Irene, looking as perfect as she always did. The church was in London, and passersby eyed Irene with smiles and polite bows. Irene’s gentle smile never once left her face, not until her gaze fell upon Cordelia.

“We are all waiting on you, sister.”

Cordelia frowned. “Let them wait. This is the rest of my life.”

“You are far too dramatic. Acting as though this is something no other woman your age does.”

Cordelia pulled at the thread in her gloves nervously. “This is incredibly fast, Irene.”

“Sometimes, that is just how it plays out.”

“Can you tell me that my anxieties are nothing more than a fluke, then?”

Irene sighed, finally giving her a small smile. “You are right, Cordelia. The speed of this marriage is something no lady wants. I feel for you.”

Cordelia bit back a bitter laugh. The words felt hollow, even if Irene didn’t mean for them to be.

In the end, Cordelia was expected to march down that aisle with nothing but a pleased smile on her face.

She was the reason behind the scandal, according to her father, and it was her responsibility to see it right before it took too much of a hold on their family name.

But she had never been someone to easily succumb to the confines of aristocratic society.

“Tell me about the Duke.”

Irene raised a brow. “I know little about him.”

“I have known you all my life, Irene. I think I can tell when you fib or skate by the truth by now,” Cordelia muttered with an arched brow. “You know as well as I that rumors circle the ton about the Duke of Solshire.”

“Why ask if you already know?”

Cordelia glanced over at her. “I ask for my eldest sister’s support in the next stages of my life,” she said.

“Just because I know there are rumors doesn’t mean I know them well.

” Taking in a deep breath, Cordelia calmed the raging nerves that threatened to make her burst with anger.

The last thing she needed was to drive her sister further away with her rageful tongue. “Do this for me, won’t you, Irene?”

Irene held her hands in front of her and looked around. “Will you go in once I tell you?”

Cordelia nodded. “I promise.”

“His name is Michael Rayson,” Irene said in a quiet voice. “The late Duke of Solshire passed away only recently. The Duke himself is said to be,” she paused, leaning closer to Cordelia’s ear, “A beast, for lack of a better term.”

“A beast ?” Cordelia repeated. “Father has signed me off to a beast ?” She shook her head. “What even makes a man a beast, Irene? Is it his hair or--”

“Calm down,” Irene snapped. “You said you’d go in once I told you!

” Irene pressed her lips together and stepped closer to her.

“The ton regards the Duke in a violent manner, though I would not hold it in such a high regard. They gossip, as you are well aware. Perhaps he is merely a recluse, a man who finds little enjoyment in society. Is there something terrible about that?”

Cordelia looked away, trying to peer into the opened church doors but only seeing shadows and silhouettes.

Perhaps Irene was right, and the ton had a way of molding the truth into something they wished to hear.

But, nevertheless, the rumor remained. It had to have come from somewhere, and Cordelia was not eager to find out. “This is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous or not,” Irene said, grabbing a hold of her wrist, “You promised to go in, Cordelia. Do not?—”

“Make another scandal for my family to deal with? Is that what you were going to say?”

Irene sighed. “Do this one thing, Cordelia. Regardless of the Duke and his beastly ways. Do this for your family, won’t you?”

Cordelia looked away. It felt as though there were two sides of her.

One that ached to be accepted and cherished by the family she adored.

And the other, the one that craved a future of her own making, something she could build herself from her own desires.

She had understood long ago that she would never reach the standards Irene had set for her.

She could never be as poised, as gentle, as respectable, as graceful. But perhaps she could do one thing.

“Let’s go, then,” Cordelia said. “I believe I’ve made everyone wait long enough.”

A sweet smile spread across Irene’s face. “Wonderful, sister.” Irene slipped into the church before her.

Cordelia drew in a deep breath to gather her courage and held her head up high.

No matter what, she thought to herself, do not forget your confidence.

Not even a beastly husband could tie her down, shape her into something she wasn’t.

Marriage or not, Cordelia knew herself, and would never once give that up.

As she passed into the church, the room came into full view. Irene had just slipped back into her seat when Cordelia began to walk down the aisle.

Her curiosity soared higher as her gaze landed on the Duke of Solshire.

He was taller than most men she had interacted with, even her father, who loomed over her whenever he stood.

The Duke’s brown hair fell just below his ears, not too long to be scorned by the ton's high standards.

His broad shoulders reached out on either side of him.

The closer Cordelia came to the altar, the more she felt the urge to shrink backwards like a frightened animal.

Though she wasn’t one to succumb to fear easily, the Duke’s aura radiated in waves, his intimidation and commanding presence incredibly hard to ignore.

It was mainly in his narrowed, dark stare, with a tightly furrowed brow.

He watched her approach steadily, not once pulling his gaze away.

Cordelia held his stare, despite it sending a shocking chill down her back.

Finally, Cordelia stood directly across from him as the rector took his spot in front, beginning to give his remarks to the small congregation. The Duke's frown stretched across his face as he turned towards the rector, a distant look in his eyes.

Cordelia quickly forgot her manners. She glanced over at him with any chance she got.

Not once did the frown lift from his lips.

And when she managed to stare at his folded hands, her curiosity grew even more.

Small, pale scars lined his hands, striking across his tanned skin like lightning bolts.

The artist in her wanted to reach for him, to investigate his hands without a care for decorum.

The Duke’s gaze snapped over to her when she stared at his hands for too long. His frown deepened, if that was at all possible.

Cordelia’s heart beat even faster. Whether it was from embarrassment or the feeling of his hot stare clinging to her, she couldn’t tell.

In the end, she called it embarrassment and nothing else.

Even when she looked away, focusing back on the rector when he produced the wedding rings, the Duke’s observant stare remained on the side of her face.

The ceremony flew by and before Cordelia knew it, it was over.

Her life was bound to the Duke of Solshire, and suddenly, she had an important title of her own.

The scandal that had once hung around her neck became a distant memory, the idea of once marrying the Earl of Vaun sounding like someone else’s life.

The moment the rector said his last lines, he gave the Duke a firm nod.

“Very well,” the Duke finally said.

Cordelia raised her face to him in front of the altar. Somehow, that wasn’t what she’d expected his voice to sound like. It was gruff, deep, coming from the very depths of his chest. The Duke spoke like he didn’t want to. Cordelia was so windswept by him that she didn’t even notice his lips moving.

“Are you deaf?”

Cordelia blinked. “I’m sorry?”

He glowered. “At least you aren’t mute,” he muttered, taking a few steps down the aisle. “Say your goodbyes. We leave at once.” And just like that, the Duke stormed down the aisle, shouldering by Cordelia’s lingering family.

Irene approached her first. “Congratulations, Cordelia.”

“I believe it is Your Grace now,” she teased.

Duncan scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You are the last person I thought would care for titles.”

“I don’t,” Cordelia said with a shrug. “But I thought I’d be more like my family.” The teasing barely touched her brother. He huffed, raising a brow but not daring to laugh.

Solomon walked between her siblings. “If you manage to ruin even this,” he suddenly snapped, “I will no longer consider you to be my daughter.”

Before the words even sunk into Cordelia, he stormed off, staggering down the aisle in the same fashion of the beastly Duke. Duncan reached to give Cordelia a light kiss on the cheek before leaving the church. Irene was the only one to remain, her smile sad and small.

“I will miss your free spirit, Cordelia,” she said.

Cordelia glanced at her. “I’m sure you want to run off as fast as the rest of them.”

Her sister let out a heavy sigh, but did not argue.

Irene barely smiled before she followed the rest of the family out of the church.

Cordelia remained at the altar a moment longer, staring at the threshold as the Duke’s carriage rolled to a stop at the steps.

She breathed in slowly, trying but failing to steady the racing within her chest.