Page 28 of Ruby in the Rough (Heiress #4)

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

C hristian strode into the dining room, hoping to find Cordelia already seated.

Instead, Jane sat alone. Her face was pale, her expression strained.

The look she gave him told him plainly that she had likely overheard at least part of his quarrel with Cordelia upon their return from the Darnley ball.

He moved to the head of the table, lowered himself into the chair, and wondered when Cordelia would join them.

He had left her last evening when her maid arrived, thinking it best to allow her privacy.

Time alone with her thoughts. He had tried, God help him he had tried, to explain what had occurred with Hetty in his library.

But the more he spoke, the worse it became.

The more he defended his actions, the more wounded and furious Cordelia grew.

He had seen it in her eyes, the betrayal, the disbelief. For all his words, she had looked at him as though she no longer knew him. The memory cut deeper than he cared to admit. What if that was the last time she ever allowed him near? What if she never forgave him?

He slipped his napkin onto his lap and glanced up. Jane was watching him, a frown between her brows.

“Are you not going to say anything after what occurred last evening?” she asked. “I heard every word. I was barely upstairs when Cordelia entered the library. What has happened?”

Christian sighed, nodding to a footman to pour his coffee. He waited until the cup was set before him. “Please leave us for a moment. Thank you.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” The staff bowed and withdrew, leaving him and his sister alone.

“I am hoping to speak to Cordelia after breakfast,” he said at last. “She was very upset, but it is nothing that need concern you.”

Jane’s gaze sharpened. “Nothing that concerns me? Cordelia is not even here, so if you expect to see her at the table, I’m sorry but you’ll sorely disappointed.”

Ice trickled through his veins at this news. “What do you mean she is not here?”

Jane’s lips thinned in displeasure. “Did you even look in on her this morning? Or last night after your argument?” His sister’s voice grew tight. “Her room is empty. Her bed untouched. She has not slept here.”

His heart thudded. Gone? The very thought left him hollow. He pictured her alone, hurt, perhaps already regretting marrying him. Who was he kidding, of course she regretted marrying him. She’d wanted a love match and he’d told her he couldn’t be trusted.

Shame washed through him at the memory of that conversation. How arrogant, how selfish he had sounded. Had she fled to her family determined never to return? The possibility made his stomach recoil. He could not lose her—not now, not after realizing how desperately he loved her.

His attention darted to the door at a sound in the foyer and he hoped that Cordelia might sweep into the dining room at any moment and prove his sister wrong. But no one entered. His chest constricted. “Where has she gone?”

“I should imagine she has gone to Ravensmere,” Jane said.

“So you are not certain?” he pressed, studying her face for any sign of evasion.

“I did not wish to intrude last night,” Jane admitted. “I kept to my chambers. But I heard enough.” Her tone sharpened. “How could you bring that woman here?”

“I did not do anything of the sort, Jane. I know how it looked, but I swear to you—I have not been unfaithful to Cordelia.”

His sister studied him a long moment before picking up her fork and stabbing at her scrambled eggs.

“While I hope you speak the truth,” she said coolly, “I cannot help but think otherwise. You have kept a mistress for as long as I can remember, and you had no interest in gaining a wife. Surely you see how it must have appeared. Whatever Cordelia walked in on last night, I should imagine it shook her, if not broke her heart.”

Her words twisted the knife further into his innards. Broken her heart? He had not wanted his past to cling to him still, and yet, through no fault of his own, it had. If Cordelia no longer trusted him, what hope did they have?

The thought of Cordelia wounded by him was intolerable. He had never wished for such a thing, not now when he knew that what he felt for her was no mere fondness or friendship but love.

“I was not unfaithful,” he said again, firmly.

“Hetty has a new protector. Unfortunately, he is not a kind man. She asked me to intervene, to tell him to leave her be. That was all. She wished to free herself and find another arrangement. As indelicate as it is, and as little as I wished to disclose such matters to you, I could not refuse her. I am one of the few she trusts.”

Jane’s expression softened slightly, though her brow remained furrowed.

“I am sorry for your past amour, and I do hope she may free herself from such a situation. But, Christian—you must see this does not paint you as a man who cares for his wife. To act on your past lover’s behalf?

Society will have much to speak upon in the coming weeks, and poor Cordelia will have to face it all.

Her leaving this house, you absent from every ball and entertainment, already makes your marriage look fragile.

That is a scandal from which neither family will recover, unless you can make this right. ”

“I will make it right,” he said, his voice low, steady. “I will speak to Cordelia today. I will ensure she understands.”

“She may give you a cold reception,” Jane warned. “Are you willing to fight for her? Do you even know how you are to prove your affections? If I were a wife and my husband treated me thus, there would be little he could say. I would forever wonder if he merely declared things to save himself.”

Christian closed his eyes briefly. Jane was right.

Words would never be enough. Cordelia deserved more than apologies—she deserved proof, devotion, his every effort until she believed in him again.

The question was not whether he was willing to fight, but whether he was strong enough to win back the woman who had already claimed his heart.

Christian picked up his coffee and drank deeply, needing the bitterness to steady him.

“I see your point. And I know my conversation with Cordelia will not be easy. But I swear to you, on my honor as a gentleman, that I have not looked at another woman since marrying her. Nor shall I ever. I have no wish for another.”

Jane regarded him in silence. He saw that she wished to believe him, yet fear lingered in her eyes. She was as troubled as he that Cordelia might not be so easily swayed, even by truth.

At last, Jane said softly, “I wish you well. I wish for Cordelia’s return. Already, the house feels empty without her.”

Empty. The word echoed inside him, chilling him. That was what his life would be without her. Empty halls, empty nights, an empty heart. He could not—would not—allow it.

He nodded and picked up his fork. “Once I have finished my breakfast, I shall go to her. And all will be well.”

A ll was not well. His attempt to speak to Cordelia was met with a very stern Ravensmere, a man of equal rank who refused to allow him to see her, not yet at least.

“Listen, Walpole, I do not do this to cause you any more trouble than has already occurred, but Cordelia has asked me for a few days to think and plan. When she is ready to speak to you, I’m certain she will have me send for you and then, and only then shall you discuss what it is that occurred.”

The duke’s words caught his attention, and he met his gaze. “She has not told you what happened?”

Ravensmere’s mouth thinned, and he leaned back in his desk chair. “She has informed Rosalind, and in turn, Rosalind has informed me of what she walked in on last night.”

Shame washed through Christian at the reminder.

“It was a misunderstanding. I have not been unfaithful, and over the weeks that I have come to know Cordelia, nor do I wish to. There may have been a time when I doubted my ability to be a loyal and faithful husband, but I have grown to care for Cordelia more than I ever thought possible. That is why I beg you now to let me speak to her, let me explain and fix this before it is too late. I do not like her thinking ill of me.”

Ravensmere threw him a look of pity and Christian’s jaw tightened. Pity was the last thing he wanted. He needed action, a way back into Cordelia’s good graces, not his brother-in-law’s sympathy.

“I cannot allow that today,” Ravensmere said gravely. “She is very distraught. She believes you have continued with your mistress, and that the reason you have not attended balls with her since returning to London is because you have been occupied elsewhere.”

Christian ran a hand through his hair, frustration heating his blood. “Hetty is in trouble. She came to me for help, and that is it. I have not seen her—have not been intimate with her—for weeks before I ever met Cordelia.”

He cursed inwardly. Words sounded so feeble compared to the sight Cordelia had witnessed.

How could he make her believe him? She deserved truth, but truth alone might not be enough.

“She needs to hear that,” Christian pressed.

“She must believe me. For I swear it is the truth. And I think you know it too.”

Ravensmere studied him a moment, then inclined his head.

“I cannot deny that you are a changed man, and I am grieved that this has occurred. I believe you, Christian. And I am sure in time Cordelia too will be ready to listen. But right now, she is too upset. She will not hear you. You must have patience.”

“I am not a patient man,” Christian muttered under his breath. He moved to the window, staring out onto Grosvenor Square. Carriages rattled by, a coal cart halted to unload its order at the townhouse next door.

“Is she attending the Haden ball this evening?” he asked, his voice strained.

Ravensmere shrugged. “I could not tell you. Rosalind has not spoken of any engagement for tonight, so I am unsure.”

“Will you send word, if she does?”

“You know I cannot,” Ravensmere said, regret lacing his tone.

“If she does attend, I do not think a scene between you both at such an event would be wise. If the ton learns what has occurred—if they know why Lady Cordelia fled here last night—there will be discourse. And we both still have family to see wed.”

Christian groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “What a mess.”

“Indeed,” Ravensmere agreed.

“Very well,” Christian relented at last. He would allow Cordelia her time, though the thought of her so near yet unreachable burned him. “I will return home. Send word when she wishes to speak to me, and I will come at once.”

“I shall,” Ravensmere said, rising as Christian started toward the door.

“Thank you, Ravensmere,” Christian said, pausing at the threshold. “I appreciate your time.”

“I do hope everything works out for the best,” Ravensmere murmured as Christian reached for the door handle. “For everyone’s sake.”

Christian stepped into the corridor, his chest heavy. For everyone’s sake indeed. If he lost her trust, if he lost her heart, he would lose everything.