Page 58 of Duke of the Sun

Cordelia stepped further into the room. “For standing up for me against my Aunt. I’m sure it was hardly the way you planned on spending the evening.”

Michael nodded curtly. “You bare my name, and I haven’t before let a stranger put my name down.”

“Oh,” she murmured. Perhaps he had only intervened out of duty. Aunt Patience pressed too far for what was politely allowed, and Michael felt inclined to step forward. Holding back her disappointment, Cordelia was near ready to walk out of the room without another word, but she stopped herself.

The moment they had shared in the orangery came flooding back to her. A prickling sensation rippled across her lips as she remembered their passionate kiss and the desperation behind it. She never realized how much she craved his hands around her till they were taken away, till she believed she would never feel them again. The true things she wished to say bounced around on her tongue, tempting dangerously to be set free in the quiet room.

I do not regret a single thing from our time in the orangery,was the thought it all came back to. And, of course:I pray you do not regret it, too.

The most sensible thing to do would have been to walk away. Cordelia did what was necessary by expressing her gratitude. A simpler woman would have left it at that, and left him along for the rest of the evening. A more respectable woman would silence her thoughts right then and there, not daring to step over an unseen line and press where she shouldn’t press. But, as Cordelia remained in his bedroom, she was stuck to the floor, overcome with the overwhelming sensation to be as close to him as she possibly could.

“Do we have another event already planned?” Cordelia suddenly asked.

Michael avoided holding her gaze. “I have sent word of our attendance to a garden party happening later this week in London,” he explained. “I believe your sister will be attending.”

“How wonderful,” Cordelia whispered breathlessly.

He nodded firmly, clamping his mouth shut and not saying another word.

Cordelia’s gaze ran around his room. There were countless books upon even more shelves. An untidy desk that carried more books than one man could possibly read in a single lifetime. His bed, put together rather nicely, had dark sheets over it. Dark curtains that she had once replaced were pulled tightly over the windows, though she was sure that the bedroom had a beautiful view of the nearby lake.

Michael’s entire life, all of his thoughts, secrets, and memories, were kept in that bedroom. Cordelia ached to peel him back and see what truly laid within, to know why he was the man he was, to understand the being she found herself to be completely enamoured with. Cordelia breathed deeply, desperate to contain her racing thoughts. The only way forward was to be true to herself. If Hunters’s insistence on the matter showed her anything, it was the impertinent need for Cordelia to express the things she wished to know.

No more questions with empty answers.

“Michael,” she said, stepping closer to where he stood in the middle of the room, “I do not wish to plague you more than I already have, but…I need to know why you left on our wedding night.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Before he could respond, Cordelia carried on. “All this time, I went on believing it was something I had done,” she explained. “Like my previous engagement, I must have done something to have pushed you away, despite only knowing each other for hours.”

Michael’s head tilted, his lips parting to speak, but not a word managing to come out.

“You claim to have defended me in order to protect your own name, but I cannot seem to believe that,” Cordelia continued. “If not for my unladylike behavior, my stubbornness, by strong will, then why did you leave? If you truly do believe my Aunt to have been wrong in the things she said, then why did you leave?”

In front of her, Michael’s hands twitched and trembled. He inched forward before jolting backwards, barely staying in one place for longer than a few seconds. Michael looked away, his jaw tense and obviously clenched.

Cordelia stood in the silence, watching his body jerk around but hearing not a single word. The hope she felt for a companionship slowly trickled out the door. What on earth was she thinking? Since when had Michael given her the time of day before? If he could have told her why he left in the first place, he would’ve done it weeks ago. Perhaps he would offer up a blatant lie, or tell her the truth that she dreaded to hear.

Pressing her lips together, Cordelia took a few steps away from him. It was growing clear that he had no intentions of truly speaking to her. Cordelia breathed sharply, ignoring the pain that began to fester in the center of her chest, over the space where her heart was frantically beating.

Without bothering for politeness or decorum, Cordelia turned around, and began to head for the door. The last thing she needed to do was to embarrass herself further. Besides, at least she could track down Hunters and gloat about how quickly she proved him wrong, though the idea of doing such a thing seemed rather pathetic itself. Cordelia was reaching for the door when Michael jerked forward and snatched onto her wrist.

Frozen in place, Cordelia could hardly gather the strength to look over her shoulder at him. His shadow crossed over her as she stood there, his fragrant cologne wafting over her the closer he came. Michael’s shallow breathing mixed in with her own, the ball of tension growing wider and wider and swallowing them both up in the process.

Michael pulled at her hand ever so slightly. “I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” Cordelia repeated. “What on earth was there to be afraid of?”

“Could you -” he paused and all she heard was his slow, trembling breathing for a moment. “Could you turn around?”

Gulping down her nerves, Cordelia turned to face him. The grooves of the scars along his palm rubbed against her bare hand, but it was, surprisingly, not uncomfortable. She raised her head to see him looking down at her, his lips pressed together in a hard line.

“I came to the conclusion you were on the verge of forcibly ending your own life,” Michael said, speaking so quietly that she could hardly hear him. “When you were standing in the window. I saw as I rode towards Solshire, and -” Michael stopped himself, turning his head away sharply. “And I was frightened by it.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Cordelia shook her head, her eyes falling to stare down at their intertwined hands. “Why would I do such a thing? Take my life in such a dreadful way?”

Michael sighed. “Do you think I was unaware of the fact that you had been pulled into a marriage you did not want?”

---