Chapter 8

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.