Page 15 of My Ruthless Duke

“Are you afraid, Little Flower?” Dorian asked, his face somehow transformed into something truly frightening.

She could not look at him. Fear and something else mixed within her as he closed the slim distance between them. She quickly averted her gaze, but he caught her face and forced it back center once more. He seemed to be looking for something in her expression that he simply could not find. When he found her wanting, his lip curled, not in disgust but something close to it. Disappointment? Had she failed whatever little test this was?

“I shall give you a week to adjust, but then I intend on claiming what is mine and mine alone, Little Flower. You ought to prepare yourself for the occasion.”

Dorian released her and stormed out of the room. She could still feel the burning of his firm grip long after he left. She did not know just how long it was that she stood there, mutely staring at the door.

A week certainly did not feel like enough.

When she did manage to drag her weary body into bed after locking the door—she could not sleep a wink.

The busy work of the estate was not quite enough to distract her from the fact that the days were passing. She thought that if she was productive, the ominous, not quite threat, of only having a week would feel less overbearing.

Cordelia and Mary settled at a small wooden table on the terrace with a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. Mary poured steaming tea into delicate china cups.

“Do you think I am overdoing it?” Cordelia asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “I have thrown myself into organizing the estate, but sometimes I wonder if I am just keeping busy to avoid–”

Cordelia hesitated. Did she have the right to express her reservations about her marriage? Dorian was Mary’s brother, after all. Perhaps that was crossing the line.

“–thinking too much?” Mary finished for her, her tone light but knowing. “Oh, I think we all do that from time to time. Look at Georgie; he can hardly sit still long enough to finish his toast.”

Cordelia chuckled softly. “True enough. But you know, I sometimes wish I could sneak out and spend a few hours in thegarden, tending to the flowers. I miss that. It is where I felt the most at ease.”

Mary’s eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion before she quickly sipped her tea, diverting the conversation. “The garden is quite lovely, is it not? I heard from the gardener that the roses will be in full bloom soon. Perhaps you could arrange a small gathering when they do.”

“Yes, a gathering would be lovely, but…” Cordelia hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “But it would feel strange to have anyone here right now. The duke and I are still–”

“–in your honeymoon period!” Mary interjected cheerily, her smile bright but perhaps a little too forced. “And what better way to celebrate that than with some quiet time together? Just the two of you.”

“Yes, of course,” Cordelia said slowly, sensing the change in the air. “But sometimes, I wonder if I should reach out to my friends. It has been ages since we have had tea together, and I feel rather isolated here.”

“Isolation can be nice, don’t you think?” Mary said, her tone shifting slightly. “A respite from the endless chatter of society. Besides, Georgie has been a handful; I cannot imagine you wanting to bring that chaos into your gathering.”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow, clearly teasing her sister-in-law when she spoke. “You think I would invite Georgie?”

Mary laughed a genuine sound that eased some of the tension. “Oh, perhaps not! But you must admit, inviting people over just now would be a little inappropriate.”

“Yes, but I could use a little… something,” Cordelia said, her voice softening. “It might bring some life back into the estate. Instead, I am stuck with organizing old ledgers and supervising repairs. I thought running the estate would be… different.”

Mary looked thoughtful for a moment, then quickly changed the subject. “And speaking of repairs, I heard the roof of the stable needs attention. Have you seen that yet? It would be a shame if it fell in on Georgie while he was playing at being a horseman.”

Cordelia nodded, though the mention of the stable made her heart sink further. “I will have it looked at. But, Mary, I–”

“–would not want to burden my brother with that,” Mary interrupted again, this time with a hint of urgency in her voice. “After all, it is a lovely day, and we should savor our tea while we can.”

“So what sort of things would be appropriate to bother your brother about?” Cordelia asked, trying her very best to keep her irritation out of her voice. “I feel like I know so little about him still. Perhaps if you could give me some more insight? Or, perhaps, a way that I can connect with his grace more easily? If I could understand him better, or his history then maybe–”

“You would have to ask his grace yourself, I am afraid. It is not my place.”

“It is not your place? Did you not share a history with him? Your childhood might have been uncomfortable, but–”

“You ought not to inquire about painful things, Cordelia, and I hope that in this setting I can continue to speak informally with you, but there are simply some things that are better left in the past,” Mary said gently, but firmly.

“I try not to press about young Georgie or his father or what might have happened there because I am trying not to be insensitive or make you uncomfortable, but it seems that the list of topics I am not allowed to speak about is growing longer than my arm. How can anyone navigate with such restrictions?” Cordelia huffed.

Mary did not answer that time. The silence between them grew uncomfortable as Mary stared deeply into the teacup in front of her. Cordelia could not help but to feel more and more like an outsider each day she was here. Like she had not yet managed to earn enough of their trust to be allowed any insight to their history.

When Mary spoke again, it was abundantly clear that the conversation was closed, and needed to shift in another direction.

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