“Quite like a storyteller,” he replied. “Did you fancy writing in your youth?”
“Heavens no.”
Michael huffed. “I did not realize writing was such an ill-suited pastime for a Lady like yourself.”
“First off,” Cordelia snapped, the corner of her lip perking up in a mischievous manner, “I do not recall ever calling myself aLady.”
“Is that not what you are?”
“In the barest sense of the word,” she replied, her chin raised. “But in the manner of a Lady in London’s Ton, I am afraid not!”
Michael shook his head. “I cannot say I’m surprised,” he muttered. “What else, then, must you argue with me about?”
She laughed, the sound finding a place alongside the music. “Secondly,” she continued, “I have always had a creative mind, but it was never with words. You have seen my paintings, haven’t you?”
“Here and there,” Michael replied, though he could possibly explain one of her older paintings from memory alone. A few were left around the Manor, neither hung on the walls or in a case. It was as if she painted wherever she went, leaving a canvas behind to let the world know she visited there, once. It was a peculiar habit, but it was one he found himself rather enjoying rather than dreading.
Cordelia smiled. “And what do you think of them?”
“They are fine.”
The smile faded quickly. “Fine?” she repeated. “Onlyfine?”
Michael laughed. “I did not take you to be someone so proud.”
She stared up at him in silence for a moment. Her eyes drifted down, clinging onto his lips before the laugh was soundly replaced with a straight line. Cordelia cleared her throat, turning her head to the opposite side as they continued on dancing.
“I can only assume you are teasing me,” she murmured.
Michael sighed. “I am.”
“I did not takeyouto be someone who teases,” Cordelia mocked, raising a proud brow. “Not even someone who dared to laugh.”
Michael glanced at her. A part of him wanted to be offended, to ridicule her for assuming or acting as if she knew him well enough to say it. But, Michael was not raised to be a fool, and knew exactly the legitimacy behind her mocking words. Even if she only teased as much as he did, Michael quickly knew that he no longer acted like the man the Ton expected. At least, not with Cordelia.
The realization was oddly frightening.
“What were those two Lady’s names?” Michael asked instead, quickly changing the subject.
Cordelia looked over to where the family stood and watched. “Loretta and Arietta,” she replied. “Sweet mouses, if not too curious for their own good.”
“They seemed rather convinced.”
She shrugged, though a reddish tint began to stain her cheeks. “It was easier to assume what they wanted to hear,” she explained. “I thought it to be a daunting task, but it went swimmingly enough.”
“Yes,” Michael replied, unable to stop the smirk from curling around his lip, “The rumors will change into how long we decided to stay tangled up in our love, outside of the city’s constraints.”
Cordelia blushed harder. “The girls made that suggestion themselves!”
“I do not recall hearing you deny it.”
“Well, I -”
“While I believe you pushed it gravely to the limits of exaggeration,” Michael interjected, “It was impressively done in the moment. I doubt you planned the story beforehand.”
“Devils, no,” she whispered.
“Language, my love.”