Page 20 of Ruby in the Rough (Heiress #4)

Chapter

Twenty

A knock sounded on the door and Christian froze. He looked at Cordelia, her eyes wide, lips parted in fear, and in that instant he knew the game was up.

Neither of them spoke.

Perhaps for a few moments they both clung to the foolish hope that whoever lingered on the other side of the door might simply walk away, carrying the memory of muffled voices and quiet stillness with them.

It was not to be.

Another knock followed. “Cordelia, I know you’re in there.”

Cordelia slipped from the desk, righting her dress and checking her appearance, while Christian hoisted up his breeches, tucked in his shirt and ensured his waistcoat and jacket were presentable to the Duchess of Ravensmere who stood outside beckoning her sister.

“Cordelia?” Her voice was low, tinged with concern. “Open the door.”

Knowing they had taken far too long to answer already, Christian went and unlocked the door, opening it wide and forcing a smile on his face. However, the duchess was no fool and from her quick inspection of the room and their unchaperoned state, she was more than conscious of the situation.

She entered and closed the door, her shock hardening into something colder. “What is going on in here, Walpole?” Her use of his title, clipped and formal, made him wince. That never boded well.

“I came to check on my sister,” she continued, each word like a lash, “and I find you…alone, locked away in your library.” The duchess’s eyes narrowed on Cordelia. “You are not married, must I remind you both?”

Christian resisted the urge to rub at the back of his neck like a chastened boy. “You need not remind us, Your Grace.” The usual smooth words that might have swayed a hostess for mercy, soothed an offended husband, or coaxed a smile from a lady entirely deserted him.

“We should not be here. I apologize.”

“You apologize?” Her brows arched sharply.

“Do you truly think that will suffice?” Her condescending laugh hit him like a solid blow to his jaw.

“What were you doing in here?” The duchess looked meaningfully between them, searching for an answer he did not wish to give.

Certainly it would be one she would not like.

“Or do you wish for me to guess?” The duchess moved farther into the room, clearly displeased.

“You look bedraggled, my dear,” she said at Cordelia.

“And you, Walpole have missed one of your buttons on your breeches. Perhaps remedy that before you leave this room.”

Cordelia met his gaze, and he could see the defeat in her eyes. He quickly looked down and blast it all to hell, he’d missed a button. He corrected his attire without words.

“We will marry,” he announced, his voice emerging with a steadiness that surprised him, however dread coiled within him.

He was not ready to be a husband, and the idea of binding himself to one woman, even Cordelia, was a shackle he had never willingly sought.

Could he do right by her? Resist the temptations that had always lured him astray?

He did not know, and nor did it matter. They had been caught and as a gentleman he could not leave her to face the consequences alone.

“I do not wish to marry you, Your Grace.” Cordelia’s announcement pulled him from his thoughts.

He went to her and linked their hands. “Nor do I wish to marry you, Lady Cordelia. But we have been found in a compromising position, and therefore, decisions must be made.”

“There is a house party currently taking place where most of your guests are outside wondering where the duke is,” the duchess said, her tone icy and unlike anything he’d heard from her before.

She was clearly very angry with them. “I believe you both should return outdoors, where you, Walpole shall ask for Lady Cordelia’s hand in the manner that fits her station.

I will not inform Ravensmere of what I discovered today, some matters if rectified need no further mention, but you will go at once and then inform your guests.

We shall celebrate the coming nuptials at dinner this evening.

Is everyone in agreement?” The duchess’s words brooked no argument.

Christian inclined his head. “Of course, Your Grace.”

He would agree to anything if it meant he could stop the chastisement. Not to mention he did not like to see the disappointment on either his now-betrothed’s or her sister’s visage.

But he would not lie to Ravensmere of what occurred here this day, or how he’d come to be engaged. The truth, well…as much of it that required telling would be communicated, and from this moment forward his intentions would be honorable.

“I shall go directly, Your Grace.”

“Yes, please leave,” the duchess said briskly. “I wish to have a word with Cordelia before we join you on the terrace.”

Christian did not allow himself another glance at Cordelia, instead he strode from the room, feeling uncomfortably like a boy caught breaking every rule society put in place to stop such interactions between unmarried people.

Marriage. Fatherhood. Permanence. The church had always expected him to commit to one woman for life, with no reprieve, no indulgence. He had resisted such rules all his days, and now they loomed over him like a sentence.

He reached the terrace doors, smoothed his waistcoat, straightened his cravat, drew in two deep breaths and walked outside. “I hope everyone is enjoying themselves,” he called, the picture of composure to his guests who answered his question with gaiety, and yet his innards twisted into a knot.

His attention searched the terrace and lawns beyond until he found his objective.

The Duke of Ravensmere.

There was no time like the present.

Christian squared his shoulders and went to ask for Cordelia’s hand in marriage.