Page 68 of Duke of the Sun

Thatwas why he tore her away from the Earl.

Responsibility and duty.

The words repeated like an incoherent mantra as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Solshire.

Cordelia, ignoring the rules of decorum, ripped open the small compartment’s door, and burst out of the carriage without a hand to help her. The skirt of her dress flew in the spring breeze as she stormed away from the carriage, and up the stairs towards the front of the estate. Michael quickly stepped out, surprising the footman for a second time. He ran up the steps two at a time, following behind his angry wife.

The doors parted to reveal Hunters and the housekeeper, Mrs. Bellflower. Michael was moments away from speaking to them, when Cordelia beat him to it, her hands tightened into small fists.

“Won’t you two leave the Duke and I alone in the foyer for a moment?” Cordelia asked.

Hunters and Mrs. Bellflower bowed their heads simultaneously, not daring to utter an argument, but sharing a very telling look. They left the foyer the moment afterwards.

“What,” Cordelia began, her voice sharp, “Is wrong with you, Michael?”

His brow furrowed. “Perhaps I could ask you the same thing!”

“Me?” She threw her hands in the air. “What could I have done to earn such a thing? Did you stop to consider what the Ton might think, seeing the Duke become abeastafter all?”

Michael surged forward, closing the space between them. “I was thinking of the Ton all along!” The words hung in the air, and he prayed they didn’t sound as hollow as they felt as they left his mouth. “Do not act as though you weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Tell me, Michael, what you believed to have been such a sinful act,” Cordelia hissed. “Was it my walk with Irene? Or was it after, when we paused to admire the flowers?”

“Or was it when the Earl of Vaun approached you,” Michael whispered, “And you willingly continued in conversation with him?” He searched her eyes as her short breaths wafted against his chin. “Do you deny it?”

“Of course not,” she said. “What harm have I done in talking to Colin?”

Michael scoffed. “You even address him so informally. What am I supposed to think?”

“If you mean to say I ruin our chances in swaying the Ton to what we wish them to see, through the mere circumstance of seeing an old acquaintance, you are hiding the truth from yourself as much as you withdraw it from me.”

He clenched his hands into tight fists. Everything he wished to say rested on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to grab her, to shake her and demand to know why she would ever spare the Earl the time of day. He wanted to demand to know her truth, to know whether or not she still felt bound to the man.

Michael shook his head. They were ridiculously jealous things that he couldn’t dare to tread upon. It was not his truth.

“You have risked the work we have done to rewrite the Ton’s beliefs of our marriage,” Michael said in a rushed whisper. “Everything could be ignored at the meresightingof you with the Earl of Vaun. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because there is a different truth behind your eyes,” Cordelia snapped. “Something you do not wish to say. Perhaps you might like to act as if I do not know you, Michael, but you might as well start getting used to it.”

Michael tilted his head at her. “You cannot know me.”

“Iknowyou,” she whispered. “And I can see past your walls. Blame your anger on the Ton, blame it on the rumors they might expel about you and your damned name. I hardly care. When you’re ready to speak the truth, you’ll know where you might find me.”

Cordelia gathered her skirts in one hand, and began to storm off, marching towards the main staircase.

Michael’s eyes were clutching to her with every step she took. The further she went, the sicker he felt, the desperate need to have her close almost becoming too much for a man to bear. He reached for her, but she was too far away. Michael pulled back. He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t let her in close enough to know how attached to her he already was. Soon, if she let him, Cordelia would see the truth about the man she was married to, and would beg to be freed from him.

Perhaps Michael was not the beast the Ton made him out to be, but it did not change the simple truth of the matter. Michael was nowhere near the better man, the right suitor, the gentleman, the perfect husband. It wasn’t him, and it was what women like Cordelia sought out. Everything she wanted to have, he could never hand over.

But then she was going too far, and Michael could hardly stand it. There was a simple thing he needed to know, one question that needed to be answered. At least then, he might be able to carry on, to sleep at night. Michael rushed forward, snatching onto Cordelia’s wrist when she had already gone up a few of the steps.

Cordelia turned, her gaze muddled with confusion. Even then, when he had the power to frighten her in ways she could only imagine, Cordelia did not show a hint of fear across her fight. He looked down at his hand around her wrist, unable to stop himself, and circled his thumb around her soft skin, feeling the distinctly rushed patter of her heartbeat. When he looked back up at her, Cordelia’s lips were parted, her face growing flushed.

“I will only ask one thing of you, Cordelia,” he whispered.

She merely breathed.

“Do you love him?”

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