Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Cordelia awoke early the next morning, the first light of dawn seeping through the heavy room curtains. The fire in the hearth had long since died, leaving the room chilly, but the fresh promise of a new day invigorated her.

After morning tea, Penny dressed her, choosing a simple gown to allow for ease of movement as she adjusted to her first day as a duchess in her new house.

I shall be positive today, she told herself strongly. I will find some positives in this life. There must be something …

Making her way to the dining room, Cordelia was surprised to find it empty. A single place was set at the long, polished table, a small nod to her presence in this vast, echoing home.

A presence that she could see was going to start off in a very isolated manner.

Where on earth was Julian?

Was he not going to share a meal with her on her very first day here?

As Penny entered the room with a simple and well-prepared breakfast of fresh bread, butter, preserves, and a steaming pot of tea, it became clear that she was definitely going to be very much alone.

Cordelia was not sure how to feel about that.

"I do not entertain guests frequently or enjoy large gatherings. My life is rather dull by most standards. I prefer solitude and quiet. I do not throw parties, and I seldom venture out into society."

She recalled him saying those words to her before they got married, but she did not think she would also be cast out. She assumed that he would allow her to get close to him now that they would share their lives together.

But if he was not yet ready to embrace his new life as a husband, then she had to assume that it was not the best idea to push him.

She would simply have to wait until he was ready for her.

After breakfast, Cordelia set out to explore the mansion. The grandeur of the place was undeniable, even under its shroud of neglect, which Penny had suggested happened after the duke's parents passed away.

Dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight that pierced through the tall windows, and her footsteps echoed softly on the marble floors.

As she wandered from room to room, she wondered if she really could be the one to bring life back into this building. One way or another.

She wandered through a series of drawing rooms, each more opulent than the last, though all were now covered in white sheets like ghosts of their former selves.

Portraits of stern-faced ancestors lined the walls, their eyes following her as she moved from room to room. Cordelia wondered about their lives, their loves and losses, and what they would think of the house in its current state.

Eventually, she found herself in the library. The scent of old books and polished wood was comforting, and she could not resist running her fingers along the spines of the volumes that filled the shelves.

There was a timelessness here, a sense of refuge from the outside world. She made a mental note to return later; this was a place where she could lose herself for hours. She could happily pass her days away here.

The room was vast, with shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with volumes of every size and colour. Despite the dust and disuse, an undeniable sense of history and knowledge permeated the air.

She walked slowly through the rows of books, running her fingers along the spines and reading the titles. It was a treasure trove of stories and wisdom, and she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her.

Cordelia randomly selected a book, the leather cover cool and smooth in her hands. She found a comfortable chair by the window, where the late morning light filtered in just enough to read by.

As she settled in and opened the book, she felt a small measure of peace. This might not be the home she had dreamed of, but it could be where she found some happiness and fulfillment.

Here might be the small joy she could find in her new life… just as Penny suggested.

But she could not sit around reading forever, not when she still needed to get used to her new home, so after a short while, she placed the book back, planning to return later.

Her exploration continued until she reached the back of the house, where large glass doors led out to the garden. Pushing them open, she stepped outside and breathed in the crisp morning air.

The garden, though overgrown, was beautiful in its wildness. Roses and ivy intertwined with statues and trellises, creating a tapestry of colours and textures. It was easy to imagine how magnificent it must have been in its prime.

Cordelia wandered down the gravel paths, brushing past lavender and rosemary, their scents mingling in the air. Birds chirped from the trees, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. For a moment, she could almost forget the sadness that lingered inside the mansion.

Here was another place where she knew she could enjoy herself.

All she needed to do was latch on to the small patches of happiness that she could find in this mansion and the land surrounding it, and soon, those positives would be the only thing she focused on.

Cordelia made a mental note to write to her sister about this when she eventually got around to it. Anything to make Felicity think she had made the right decision by getting married.

Cordelia wanted her sister to fall happily into her marriage with the baron. The last thing she wanted was for her to feel any guilt over the wedding she'd had to pave the way for her.

***

The day passed in a blur of exploration and quiet reflection for Cordelia. By evening, she found herself both eager and anxious for dinner. She was flooded with anticipation when it came to seeing Julian once more.

She hoped for some semblance of normalcy, perhaps even conversation. After all, they were husband and wife now and needed to understand much about each other.

No matter what the purpose of their marriage was.

As she entered the dining room, she saw Julian already seated at the head of the table. The room was dimly lit by the warm glow of candlelight, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

He looked up briefly as she approached, offering a curt nod before returning to the papers he had been perusing.

So he was here, which was a surprise, but it seemed like he would not be connecting with her as much as she liked.

But that did not mean Cordelia would not try.

"Good evening, Julian," she said warmly as she entered the room.

"Good evening, Cordelia," he replied, his tone polite but distant. He folded his papers and set them aside as Dan pulled out her chair.

She sat down, feeling the weight of the silence between them. The table was elegantly set, the silverware gleaming, and the dishes arranged with care. But again, it was all a bit of an act.

It seemed like they would be playing these roles for a little longer.

The first course was served — a delicate soup that smelled heavenly — but she could hardly focus on the food in this stilted atmosphere.

Cordelia ventured a question, hoping to spark some conversation. "How was your day?"

"Busy," he replied succinctly, taking a sip of his soup. He did not elaborate, and the silence grew heavier.

She tried again. "The house is quite something. I have spent the day exploring. The library, in particular, is lovely."

"Yes, it is," he said, his eyes briefly meeting hers before flicking away. "It holds many rare volumes."

Cordelia waited for him to say more, ask about her day, or share something more of his own, but he remained silent. She searched for another topic, determined not to let the evening slip away in awkward quiet.

"Penny has been very kind and helpful," she said, grasping at anything to keep the conversation alive.

"She has been with us for several years," Julian responded, his tone neutral. "A good servant."

And that was it.

She got nothing else from him — even as the second course was brought out — roasted pheasant with seasonal vegetables.

Cordelia picked at her food, her appetite diminished by the strain of trying to engage him. Julian ate methodically, his focus entirely on his plate.

She took a deep breath, deciding to be a bit more direct. "Julian, I understand this is all quite new for both of us. But it would be nice to talk, to get to know each other."

He looked up then, his expression unreadable. "Yes, of course," he said after a pause. "What would you like to know?"

His question felt more like a formality than genuine curiosity. Nevertheless, she pressed on. "Anything. What are your interests? What do you enjoy doing?"

He set down his fork, contemplating his response. "I spend most of my time managing the estate and attending to business matters. I read occasionally. That is about it."

It was a start, but the conversation felt stilted as if he were performing a duty rather than engaging willingly. Cordelia felt frustrated but tried to mask it with a smile. "What kind of books do you enjoy?"

"History, mostly. And some philosophy," he replied, his tone softening just a fraction. "And you?"

"I enjoy novels," she said, her enthusiasm bubbling up. "Especially ones with intricate plots and rich characters. They offer an escape, a way to live many lives through the pages."

Julian nodded, his gaze distant. "That sounds ... interesting."

He did not sound interested at all.

Why was he so uninterested? Why did he not seem to care about even knowing her? It was all so strange.

The conversation trickled into silence once more, and they finished the meal with only the clinking of silverware to fill the void.

As dessert was served — a delicate lemon tart — Cordelia realized how heavy she felt. He truly was not giving her anything. She had tried so hard, but Julian remained an enigma, his walls firmly in place.

After dinner, he excused himself almost immediately. "Goodnight, Cordelia," he said, his tone formal.

There was no chance for any more talk.

"Goodnight, Julian," she replied, watching as he left the room.

Cordelia sat there for a moment longer, the empty dining room echoing with the silence that had dominated their meal. There was so much that she did not understand about her husband, so much that remained hidden behind his reserved exterior.

She sighed, feeling a mix of disappointment and determination. This was only the beginning, and she resolved to break through those barriers to find the man behind the mask.

As she returned to her room, she reminded herself that new beginnings often required patience and perseverance. Tomorrow was another day, and with it, another chance to find common ground. She just hoped that Julian would be willing to meet her halfway.

***

The following day dawned with a heavy mist hanging over the grounds, mirroring the weight that had settled in Cordelia's heart. The mansion, silent and vast, seemed to press in on her.

She knew that she would have to write Felicity a letter today. She did not wish to leave her sister hanging any longer, but she was not too sure what she was going to say.

How could she word her strange new life?

She wanted to be honest with her family, but she also needed them to believe she was doing well.

Cordelia quickly found herself in the small sitting room adjacent to her chambers. Though less grand than others in the mansion, the room offered a cosy refuge.

A writing desk stood by the window, overlooking the garden, giving her a view she enjoyed while writing this letter.

Cordelia sat down, smoothing a sheet of creamy stationery before her, and picked up her pen. The familiar act of writing, of pouring her thoughts onto paper, brought a small measure of comfort.

With a deep breath, she began to write:

Dear Felicity,

I hope this letter finds you well. It feels strange to write to you from this place, so far from everything we have known. But I am pleased to tell you that I arrived safely, and that the mansion is grand, with a wonderful garden and a well-stocked library.

I will be able to read anything I like.

There is a lot of work for me to do here, though, which I am sure you will see when you visit one day.

Most of the rooms in the home are closed off, draped in white sheets and left to gather dust. The duke uses only a small portion of the house — his chambers, the study, the library, and the dining room. The rest remains as though frozen in time, waiting for a life that no longer fills its halls.

It is strange, but I know I will be able to bring joy back to this home one day.

But will I be able to do the same for my new husband?

I am not too sure.

The duke is an enigma. Our conversations are few and far between, and when we do speak, it is as though there is an invisible wall between us. He is polite but distant, and I cannot seem to break through his reserve.

He really is a very closed-off man.

He spends his days engrossed in his duties, managing the estate and attending to business matters. He does not seem to have much time for me at all.

But hopefully, things will get better.

I keep reminding myself that this is only the beginning. Things have potential as yet. There is a lovely maid named Penny, who I just know is going to become a good friend of mine.

Of course, I do miss you, Felicity. How I long to sit with you, to share my burdens, and hear your comforting words. Please write to me soon and tell me of home, of all that is familiar and dear.

With all my love,

Cordelia

She set down the pen, hoping that this letter was the right balance between truth and joy so that Felicity did not worry. But as she folded the letter and prepared to send it, a heaviness settled over her heart. She did not want to be isolated in this life, but she could not help it. It was hard.

Chapter 8

Cordelia's days at Whitestone Hall had fallen into a rhythm marked by Julian's constant absence, aside from the icy dinners. Despite her best efforts to break through his reserve, her husband remained a distant figure, a shadow in the corridors of their shared home.

Today, she resolved to try again. Because what else could she do?

As the morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the drawing room, Cordelia glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was nearly time for Julian's daily retreat to his study. She carefully selected a porcelain cup from the china cabinet and poured a steaming cup of tea, hoping this small gesture might open a path to conversation.

Keep trying, she told herself firmly. Keep pursuing him …

She knew that if she did not try these things, she would end up with nothing, which simply was not enough for her.

Eventually, she found Julian already seated at his massive oak desk, papers and ledgers scattered before him. His dark hair fell over his brow, partially obscuring the scars on his face, and his eyes were focused intently on his work. The room was dim, the heavy drapes blocking out much of the sunlight.

This room was just as dark as the rest of the house.

Maybe even more so.

"Good morning, Julian," she said softly, stepping into the room, her hand trembling

slightly as the nerves got to her.

He barely looked up to greet her. "Good morning, Cordelia."

She crossed the room and placed the cup of tea on his desk. "I thought you might like some tea."

"Thank you," he replied, his tone polite but distant.

She did not want to be treated like a maid, simply bringing him what he had asked for. She needed him to really see her and could not stand this strangeness between them; it was a vice grip on her chest.

Cordelia lingered, searching for something to say that might draw him out. "The gardens are looking lovely this time of year. I took a walk earlier and noticed the roses are beginning to bloom."

Julian nodded, his eyes still fixed on his papers. "I am glad you are enjoying them."

She sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of his indifference. "Perhaps you might join me for a walk this afternoon? The fresh air would do you good."

He paused, his pen hovering above the paper, then shook his head. "I am afraid I have much work to do."

Disappointment settled in her chest, but she refused to give up. "Maybe another time, then."

Julian merely inclined his head, and Cordelia, feeling the conversation slipping away, turned to leave. As she reached the door, she glanced back, hoping for some sign that he might still engage with her.

"Cordelia," he called out just as she was about to enter the hallway.

Her heart leapt with a flicker of hope. "Yes?"

"Thank you for the tea," he said, his voice softening just a fraction.

She smiled, a small but genuine smile, grateful that he had at least acknowledged her. "You are welcome, Julian."

Perhaps, she thought to herself determinedly as she slipped out of the room. He is like me. Not interested in romance. Maybe this is all fine and just what he is like. No one else seems to have a problem with him …

Determination surged through her. She was going to keep going, keep trying, however hard it was, in the hope that her marriage would one day become filled with the same warmth that she wanted to feel in this house.

***

After an afternoon stroll in the gardens, Cordelia wandered the halls, lost in thought.

Then, she heard it — a hauntingly beautiful melody floating through the air, echoing softly off the walls of Whitestone Hall.

She paused, listening intently, her heart quickening at the ethereal sound. She had not heard anything like this since being here, which spiked excitement within her. She could not help it.

Drawn to the music, she followed it down the dimly lit corridor until she reached the music room. The door was ajar, and through the gap, she saw Julian seated at the grand piano, his fingers moving gracefully over the keys. The sight of him there, lost in the music, was mesmerizing. He played with such emotion, such intensity, that it seemed at odds with the man she encountered daily.

She knew this was likely something she was not supposed to hear, but she was captivated. She could not look away for even a second.

Who was this version of her husband?

How had she not seen him before?

When the piece ended, Julian's hands stilled on the keys, and for a moment, the room filled with a profound silence. Cordelia felt as though she had glimpsed a part of him that he kept hidden from the world, a part that was deeply vulnerable and achingly human.

But she was too afraid to confront him about this, too scared to push him away, especially when she had just learned something exciting and new about him. So she slipped away, trying her best not to disturb him.

But her heart continued to race as she found her way to the parlour. There, she paced up and down, her thoughts racing, until she caught sight of a familiar face.

"Penny," she called out as the maid passed by. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course," Penny agreed as she furrowed her brows in confusion. "Is everything alright?"

"It is Julian," Cordelia confessed as her pulse pounded. "I cannot seem to reach him, no matter what I do. He is always so distant, so preoccupied with his work. I wish I could spend more time with him and get to know him better."

Penny nodded sympathetically. "The duke does seem to bury his nose in work, My Lady. He is always in his study, going over papers and ledgers. That has been his way for a long time now. It will be hard to make him change."

Cordelia sighed. "I have tried engaging him in conversation, offering him tea, even inviting him for walks in the gardens. But he always has some excuse, some reason to remain distant."

Penny looked thoughtful. "The duke is not a man of many outward enjoyments, My Lady. He is not fussy about much. But there is one thing I have noticed during my years working with him."

Cordelia's eyes lit up with curiosity. "What is it?"

"He finds solace in playing the piano," Penny said with a small smile. "Sometimes, when the house is quiet late in the evening, you can hear him playing the most lovely melodies. It is as if he pours all his emotions into the music."

Cordelia's heart quickened now that she could talk about this to someone. "I have heard him play. The music is so captivating, so full of emotion. It is as if he is a different person at the piano."

Penny nodded. "I believe it is his way of expressing what he cannot put into words. He has been through a great deal, and the music seems his only outlet."

Cordelia leaned back in her chair, pondering Penny's words. "Do you think he might be willing to share that part of himself with me? If I could find a way to connect with him through the music …"

Penny gave her a reassuring smile. "It is worth a try, My Lady. The duke may keep to himself, but I have seen how he looks when he plays. There is a depth of feeling that he hides from the world."

Cordelia felt a surge of determination. "Thank you, Penny. You have given me hope. I will find a way to reach him, to show him that he does not have to face his burdens alone. He has a wife now, and I am here to help him through things."

Penny placed a comforting hand on her arm. "You are a kind and compassionate woman, My Lady. If anyone can reach the duke, it is you."

Cordelia nodded determinedly. She did not know if Penny was right, but she wanted to try, to make sure. After all, he had to have seen something within her when they shared that very first dance right at the start of the Season, and whatever that was, it was not a quality she had lost. She simply needed to find it again and utilize it to ensure their bond built up further.

And maybe one day, he would allow her to sit in the room with him while he played piano, and she would really get to see him on the deepest level possible.