Page 8 of Duke of the Sun

“My apologies, your Grace,” Hunters replied, “But I’m afraid the Duke will not be joining this morning.”

“Later, then?”

Butlers gave her an uncomfortable smile. “I do not believe so, your Grace.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“The Duke has informed me that he will be staying at one of the smaller estates in the dukedom, your Grace.”

Cordelia froze, her hand releasing the curtain. “He is living elsewhere?”

“Yes, your Grace.”

The words Cordelia once thought to give to her husband felt hollow, suddenly. Her chest grew tight from embarrassment, from the butler’s eyes remaining on her. She could not recall Irene or any other Lady for that matter mentioning that sort of action from a husband. Perhaps it was normal. Cordelia glanced over her shoulder at the butler. There was pity in the aged man’s face, in the way his wrinkles lined his eyes and the corner of his frown.

It could not have been normal.

Cordelia rubbed her clammy hands along her skirts, swallowing down the rush of despair that threatened to rock through her. Suddenly, she was left alone in the most somber looking estate in all of England, with not even a husband to keep her company. Her marriage, though only a day long, felt to be more in shambles than the betrothal she had before, with the Earl.

“Very well,” Cordelia finally said as she turned to face the butler. “I suppose we ought to make the most out of it, shall we?”

The butler barely raised a brow.

Cordelia gave him a half smile. “This is the rest of my life, after all.”

CHAPTER2

Cordelia struck her paintbrush along the canvas, following the line of the bountiful blossoms in front of her. The gardens grew exponentially that season, primarily due to the amount of work she put into them the past two years. Flowers and bushes bordered the back of the estate, squat fences and gates wrapping around them to contain the ever growing gardens. A few geese landed nearby, taking a gander over the gardens before making their way down the squat hill towards the lake.

“See those geese, Silas?” she mused.

Beside her, sunbathing in the sun’s rays, was Cordelia’s Yorkshire Terrier. He was a small creature, colored chestnut and black, his belly stretched across the pavement beneath them. Cordelia lounged in a chair, a canvas balanced across her legs. Silas stretched his stout paws out and yawned before leaping onto the chair, curling up between her feet. He raised his little head towards the geese as they honked loudly.

Cordelia reached, rubbing her fingers behind his ears when a commotion came from behind her.

“Your Grace!” Mrs. Bellflower called out as she burst out from the backdoors. “There is a very adamant woman demanding your presence!”

“An adamant woman?” Cordelia repeated, turning to look over her shoulder at the exasperated housekeeper. “Who on earth -”

Before she could finish her sentence, Irene came fluttering out of the doors behind the housekeeper, not bothering to wait for an introduction. She carried her voluminous skirts as she ran down the steps, her normally gentle face contorted in worry.

“Cordelia!” Irene snapped, resting a hand over her chest. “Have you any idea how much of a fright you have given Duncan and I?”

Cordelia lowered her canvas to the floor. “Don’t tell me sour-faced Duncan is here.”

Irene gaped.

“What on earth is the matter?” Cordelia asked as she looked into her sister’s worried face. “You haven’t bothered to visit for two years, nevermind the short letter or two. Now you plow through my housekeeper?” Cordelia raised a brow at her. “Not quite proper of you, dear sister.”

Irene’s jaw dropped further before Silas suddenly realized a stranger’s presence, hopping down from the chair. He barked and yipped, his short tail wagging so fast he might’ve taken off in the air.

“Y-You have a dog?” Irene asked as the terrier jumped up at her feet.

Cordelia rose to her feet. “I would’ve told you sooner if you gave me the time of day.”

“Sister,” she said, her voice no longer strained with worry, “You know our father as well as I. He was adamant about leaving you be.”

“You cannot use him as an excuse any longer,” Cordelia said. “He passed away a year ago, Irene. Anything stopping you from visiting has to do with you and only you.” She closed the distance between them, reaching to take a hold of her sister’s gloved hands. “Though I won’t deny my pleasure in finally seeing you.”

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