Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Julian paced the length of his study, the familiar creak of the floorboards underfoot a steady rhythm that did little to calm his turbulent thoughts.

Weeks had passed since Cordelia had come to Whitestone Hall, and though she was a constant presence, he had done everything in his power to make it feel as though she were not there at all.

He had buried himself in the affairs of the duchy, overseeing the estate, managing finances, attending to correspondence, and ensuring everything ran smoothly.

Even more than usual.

Yet, despite his efforts to keep to himself, Cordelia's presence — or rather, his avoidance of it — was a persistent, gnawing distraction he could no longer ignore.

He paused by the window, staring out at the gardens. The roses were in bloom, their vibrant colours starkly contrasting with the gloom hanging over the house. The roses always reminded him of his mother, but in the melancholy, he could not find joy.

Not when he could not shake Cordelia's gasp out of his mind.

She might have tried to cover it up when she first saw his scar, but that sound remained firmly within him.

The gasp she had emitted, a sound of shock and perhaps horror, echoed in his mind at all times, a cruel reminder of his disfigurement. He could still see the look in her eyes, a mixture of pity and revulsion, and it haunted him.

He pressed a hand to his temple, trying to dispel the memory. "A monster," he muttered to himself. "She must think that I am a monster. Just like the rest of the world does."

How was he supposed to talk and open up to her when all he could hear was that gasp?

He would never strip away the carefully constructed walls he had built around himself, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. He could not do it.

But avoiding her as much as he could was no good when he still had to see her for dinner. He could not escape her entirely.

Julian was starting to worry that this whole marriage was a mistake.

Yet, despite his best efforts, he could not completely shut her out. There were moments, fleeting and unexpected, when he caught glimpses of her. Her soft laughter with the staff, her thoughtful expression as she read by the fire, the way she moved with quiet grace through the halls of Whitestone. Each sighting stirred something within him, a longing he could not easily dismiss.

Julian knew he could not continue this way forever.

They were married, after all, and the expectation was clear — they would need to produce an heir.

But the very thought of such intimacy, of exposing himself to her fully, filled him with dread. He was in no rush, content to delay the inevitable, but he was not blind to the reality of their situation. He wanted her companionship, craved it even, but his own insecurities and fears kept him locked in a prison of his own making.

He wanted her company and loved the idea of getting to know Cordelia better, but he did not know where to begin …

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Julian looked up, grateful for the much-needed interruption.

"Come in," he called.

Dan entered with a respectful nod. "Your Grace, a letter has just arrived for you."

Julian took the envelope, noting the familiar handwriting. He recognized it immediately as that of Captain Matthew Forester, his childhood friend. Apprehension and curiosity filled him as he broke the seal and began to read:

My Dear Julian,

Imagine my shock upon receiving word that you, of all people, have got married and did not think to ask me to stand with you at the wedding! I must admit, I am a bit wounded. How could you deny me the pleasure of seeing you trussed up like a Christmas goose?

In all seriousness, I am both delighted and curious. Delighted that you have found a companion and curious to meet this duchess who has agreed to spend her life with a man as grumpy as yourself.

Fear not, I shall remedy your oversight. The regiment will be camped nearby this winter, and I will be on leave. Expect me at Whitestone, ready to make the acquaintance of your new wife.

Yours always,

Matthew

Julian smiled despite himself. Matthew's playful manner was a balm to his otherwise troubled thoughts. He could almost hear his friend's teasing voice, see his rakish grin.

He picked up a pen and quickly scribbled a response:

Matthew,

Your arrival will be most welcome, though I know you well enough to realize you would show up regardless of my invitation. I look forward to seeing you. Safe travels.

Julian

He sealed the letter and handed it to Dan. "See that this gets sent immediately."

Dan nodded and left the study, leaving Julian alone with his thoughts once again. He leaned back in his chair, a sense of relief washing over him. Matthew's visit would be a welcome distraction. Perhaps with his friend's presence, the pressure to provide engaging conversation for Cordelia would lessen.

The thought of Matthew meeting Cordelia filled him with a strange combination of anticipation and anxiety. Matthew had always been a bridge between Julian and the rest of the world, his easy manner and charm smoothing over Julian's more reticent nature. He hoped his friend's visit would ease some of the tension over Whitestone Hall.

Julian's gaze drifted to the window, where the light was beginning to fade. Winter would be upon them soon, bringing with it the chill and quiet that always seemed to deepen his sense of isolation. But this year, there would be a difference.

Cordelia's presence, though still fraught with unspoken barriers, was a constant reminder that he was no longer alone. And with Matthew's arrival, there was the promise of laughter and camaraderie, if only for a short while.