Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Autumn, 1818
Harrington House
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The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the parlour, casting intricate patterns on the oriental rug. Cordelia sat in her favourite armchair, knitting quietly.
Her hands moved with practiced ease, the rhythmic click of the needles providing a soothing melody to the gentle murmur of conversation between her mother and her younger sister.
Felicity chatted animatedly about the previous night's opera with her mother. Cordelia listened with half an ear, content to let her sister's excitement wash over her. Felicity's laughter was like a bell, bright and musical, filling the room with a sense of joy.
It was a sweet and tranquil morning that Cordelia was truly enjoying …
"Everyone …" That was until her father burst into the room, barely able to contain himself, a rarity for the usually composed earl. "I have just received the most astonishing letter."
Cordelia looked up from her knitting, curiosity piqued. Felicity and Lady Amelia both turned their attention to him, sensing the moment's importance.
"What is it, Father?" Felicity asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.
Lord Henry cleared his throat, unfolding the letter with deliberate care. "This letter is from the Duke of Whitestone, Julian Simon," he began, his gaze settling on Cordelia. "He has asked for Cordelia's hand in marriage."
A stunned silence fell over the room. Cordelia felt her heart skip a beat, her hands freezing mid-stitch. She looked at her father, then at her mother and sister, trying to comprehend the magnitude of his words. Unexpected words that she never expected to hear.
"The Duke of Whitestone?" Lady Amelia echoed, her voice filled with surprise and confusion. "But how? Why?"
Lord Henry smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at Cordelia. "It appears that our Cordelia made quite an impression on the duke during the first masquerade ball of the Season. He writes of her grace, intelligence, and her strength of character. He believes she would make an excellent duchess."
Cordelia's mind raced, replaying her brief yet intense encounter with the duke. She remembered how he looked at her, the depth of emotion in his eyes, and their passionate conversation. She had thought him brusque, even rude, but there had been something more, a connection that had ignited a spark within her.
"But, Father," Cordelia began, her voice trembling slightly, "I hardly know him. And he, me. He was cold, rude, and quiet, too."
Her mother shot her a sympathetic look. "First impressions can be misleading, my dear. Perhaps there is more to the duke than you experienced that evening."
Lord Henry nodded, his expression thoughtful. "The duke's letter suggests he sees qualities in you that he admires, Cordelia. And he has expressed a desire to get to know you better. This may well be a great opportunity for both of you."
Cordelia felt mixed emotions swirling within her — apprehension, curiosity, and an unexpected flicker of excitement at this unexpected news. This was not something that she ever expected to happen.
The Duke of Whitestone was a man shrouded in mystery, and while her initial encounter with him had been far from pleasant, there had been something in his eyes, a depth of feeling that had intrigued her.
"The duke is currently in London," her father continued, "but he will soon return to his manor in Yorkshire. He wishes to call upon you before he departs if you are interested in accepting his proposal.
Cordelia took a deep breath, her mind racing. The idea of a courtship with the duke was daunting, but the opportunity to uncover the man behind the mask, to see if there was indeed a connection between them, was compelling.
As the news settled in, Felicity scurried to Cordelia's side, her eyes wide with earnest plea. "Cordelia, you must at least meet with the duke. Give him a chance. For all we know, he might surprise you."
Cordelia looked into her sister's hopeful eyes and felt a pang of guilt. Felicity's happiness was so vibrant and alive, and Cordelia knew her reluctance was a shadow over it. She sighed, the weight of her inner struggle pressing down on her.
She had never been a romantic. Practical and reserved, Cordelia had always dreamed of a comfortable home, a husband who respected her, and a life of quiet stability.
However, her parents' growing financial struggles only intensified the pressure to find a suitable match, especially when she learned that her beloved younger sister had fallen in love with Baron Robert Nord. Felicity could not marry until Cordelia was betrothed, a traditional but cruel constraint that matched her sister's happiness to Cordelia's fate.
Reflecting on this, Cordelia felt a deep sense of responsibility. Her own desires seemed insignificant compared to the needs of her family. She hesitated, the decision heavy on her heart. But she knew what she had to do. Her family's well-being, their honour, and her sister's future depended on her making the right choice.
She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. "I will meet with him," she said finally, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "It is my duty to our family."
Felicity's face lit up with relief and joy. "Oh, thank you, Cordelia! I know you will make the best decision for all of us."
Their mother, Lady Amelia, smiled approvingly. "You are doing the right thing, my dear. This is an important step, and we are all here to support you."
Lord Henry smiled, clearly pleased with her decision. "Very well. I will send a reply to the duke, informing him of your willingness to meet. I shall invite him to a dinner here. He will be pleased to hear it, I am sure."
As her father left the room to pen his response, Cordelia felt anticipation and nervousness building. This courtship could change her life, opening doors to possibilities she had never considered. She looked at her mother and sister, who were watching her with loving and supportive smiles.
"You are brave, Cordelia," Lady Amelia said softly. "And wise to give this a chance. The duke may have his faults, but I believe he has recognized something special in you."
Felicity hugged her sister tightly. "I know you will handle this with your usual grace and intelligence. And who knows? Perhaps you will find happiness where you least expect it."
Cordelia nodded, her mind made up. She watched as her father left the room to send the necessary message to the duke, inviting him for dinner. The gravity of the situation settled on her shoulders, but she held her head high.
Her father had been desperately trying to find a match for her ever since Felicity met the baron, so it was nice to know she could take that pain off his shoulders.
"We should find you a dress," Felicity declared excitedly. "Pick out something nice for you to wear for the dinner. Then you can feel more confident when you see the duke again."
Cordelia allowed herself a small smile at her sister's enthusiasm. "Yes, that would be a good idea, Felicity," she agreed, trying to match her sister's upbeat tone. "Let us go and see what we can find."
As they headed towards Cordelia's room, Felicity chattered about the different gowns they could choose, her excitement infectious. Cordelia felt a bit of her own apprehension lift, replaced by a determination to face whatever lay ahead with grace and dignity.
In the privacy of her room, surrounded by bolts of fabric and shimmering gowns, Cordelia let herself be swept up in the flurry of preparations. Felicity's hands moved quickly, selecting dresses and holding them up against Cordelia's frame. They finally settled on an elegant, deep blue gown that illuminated Cordelia's eyes and complemented her fair skin.
"This one," Felicity declared, her voice filled with certainty. "You will look stunning in it."
"Do you think so?" Cordelia asked with a slight frown. "I am not too sure."
"Oh, I am certain!" Felicity confirmed as she clapped her hands excitedly. "I really have a good feeling about this. And not just because I would like you to find someone to help me out." She giggled girlishly. "But because I want you to be happy as well. Think about it. You will be a duchess!"
"I cannot imagine being a duchess." Cordelia laughed, although the sound was a little too strangled to be believable. "It is strange … but please, do not put too much hope in this. He truly did not seem to like me when we first met. I cannot explain why this has happened because we shared one dance, during which time he hardly spoke a word to me. To say that I am utterly baffled by this would be an understatement."
"But you must have been on his mind enough for him to write to you all this time later. That has to mean something. He must like you more than he let on."
Cordelia could not imagine it. It had been too strange an encounter for that and too short as well. But there had to be a reason for this communication. She supposed that she was going to have to find out.
***
As Cordelia finally laid her head on the soft pillow, the day's events swirled in her mind. The rhythm of the house had finally quieted, and the moonlight streamed through her bedroom window. She closed her eyes, hoping for sleep, but her thoughts refused to settle.
The Duke of Whitestone would come to dinner sometime soon. Julian Simon. The very name held a weight of its own, a title steeped in prestige and power. To think that such a man had proposed courtship and potentially marriage was almost beyond her comprehension.
Cordelia had always accepted her place in the world with a certain grace. She knew she was not considered the beauty of the family — that honour belonged to Felicity. With her golden curls, sparkling blue eyes, and laughter, Felicity could light up any room. It was always assumed that Felicity would marry the highest nobleman, securing the family's future with her charm and beauty.
And Cordelia?
Cordelia was the quiet one, the dependable one. Plain but agreeable, her mother often said with a combination of affection and pragmatism. Cordelia had been resigned to the idea that she would marry eventually, perhaps to a kind but modest gentleman who would appreciate her calm demeanour and intelligence.
She had never entertained dreams of grandeur, never imagined herself in the dazzling role of a duchess. It had never even crossed her mind until now.
Yet, here she was, contemplating a future that seemed plucked from a fairy tale. Julian Simon had seen something in her that had moved him to seek her hand. It was a notion that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
As the night wore on and the house fell into a deeper silence, Cordelia's thoughts began to slow. She felt a sense of peace settling over her, a calm acceptance of the unknown future. Whatever happened next, she would face it with the same strength and grace Julian mentioned in his letter.
With a deep breath, Cordelia allowed herself to drift into sleep, her dreams filled with possibilities and the whisper of a new beginning. She could only hope this all worked out just as she desired for everyone she loved.