9781618859594HerDeviantLordPimentel (5 page)

Chapter Four

Cordelia avoided
much of her hosts once they returned to Stoughton Hall. She wanted to be the
one to ask Lord Thompson for his aid, yet she imagined his lovely wife would
likely interfere. She wondered how he would react to the request of him
escorting her to Bastian’s home. Would he flatly decline, or would he feel
compelled to do the right thing? The faster she spoke to her beloved, the
faster she could return to the country.

Who could have
imagined that after all this time, she would have no desire to remain in
London? Gone were the days of having to keep up with the latest fashions. Long
gone were the days when she felt compelled to appease her husband and entertain
the snakes that her husband called friends and associates.

What was once her
life was now nothing but a shadow of her past, soon to be forgotten. Matthew
was her sole concern now. Not even Bastian could change her feelings on that
subject. However, she worried how he would react to learning that he had sired
the boy. Trepidation ate away at her as she sat at the breakfast table with
Matthew, who happily gummed away at her finger.

His birth had been
the loneliest experience of her existence, but the joy that had filled her the
moment she had held him for the first time was incredible. Rarely did she leave
the babe, and she was not about to do so now.

At that moment,
the
marquess
entered the room with his wife, who only
smiled.

“I hope you slept
well Cordelia?” the marchioness asked, while picking up a biscuit and breaking
off a piece.

“I did, thank you,
my lady, my lord.”

“Cordelia, we
shall have to do something about your addressing us so formally,” the
marquess
added. “I would much rather prefer that you call
us by our given names.”

“I know you would
rather I did, but I will not be disrespecting your station whilst being a guest
in your house. I hope you understand?”

He only shook his
head and smiled at her. “My wife tells me that you are in need of some help—you
want to visit with the Earl of Wendelhem. I should be able to give you a hand, though
I imagine we might want to make the trip once it is dark. We cannot have all of
London seeing who shows up at his door. Can you imagine it? The news headlines
would read along the lines of ‘Scandal of the Century.’”

Cordelia snorted.
“Very true, my lord.”

“Excellent. We
shall depart shortly after eight o’clock. I am positive that my sister and wife
will be more than happy to keep little Matthew entertained while we are out.”

“I am most
grateful for your assistance and will never forget your kindness.”

“Oh, just one more
thing, Cordelia. I have sent ahead Davy with one of the maids, while Missus
Miller is still resting, to collect the items you tried to acquire the other
day. In addition to the country clothing, my wife and I have decided to indulge
a bit and have a little surprise for you later.”

Oh! What have they done? Aside from the clothing for Matthew and me,
and supplies for the kitchen and spices, what more could I need?

“No need to frown
my dear, I promise you, you’ll not be disappointed. Now spend a little time
with Matthew. I am sure you’ll want to snuggle with the boy before we leave.”

How could she not?
Nerves and excitement, all rolled up into one fiery ball, threatened to burst
forth. She was really going to see him. Finally.

Later that night,
they were parked in front of the entrance to the Wycliffe estate. Cordelia was
still anxious, but Nathaniel was reviewing the plan.

“Now, just
remember to keep your head down until we have been permitted entry. Once we are
ushered inside and shown into the preferred room for this visit, I want you to
stay confined to the shadows. Once Wycliffe is present and comfortable, I will
give you the signal.”

Cordelia nodded as
the
marquess
ran through her instructions. The
beautiful, dark blue gown that he and his wife had gifted her with was
reminiscent of the style of gown that suited her the most. Since having
Matthew, although she had kept her hourglass figure, she was a bit more top
heavy, as she was still nursing him. The black velvet cape that Isabel had loaned
her covered every nuance of her body that would make her recognizable to the
haute ton
.

The
marquess
stepped out of the carriage and helped her down.
Cordelia kept her gaze on the cobblestones leading up to Bastian’s door.

“My lord, ma’am.
If you will follow me to the library, I will see if my master is up for a
visit,” the butler declared with a scowl.

“I hope he is not
too busy? We have much to discuss, and it is very important. Let him know that
an audience with him is imperative.”

Overly tall and
lean, the man had to be near ancient. He furrowed his brows, squinting for only
a moment, as if discerning how to deliver—or more accurately, interrupt,
Wycliffe. “Very well, sir, please wait here in his library.”

“That went well.”

“That is only the
beginning. I wonder…Cordelia, if you were to stand in the corner by that
bookcase…” He pointed to opposite side of the room where it was dark.

She nodded and
made haste before anyone walked in on them.

 
“Perfect,” the
marquess
commented, a short moment before the butler entered.

“His lordship will
join you momentarily. He only needs to dress. May I offer you and the lady some
refreshment?”

“No, that will not
be necessary. I do not plan on staying long.”

The butler bowed
and left, Bastian arriving soon after. Cordelia noticed that his hair was
mussed from the back.
Has he been
entertaining a woman upstairs? Has he truly moved on and found another lover?
Her heart sank at the prospect.
How could
he replace me so…so…so…soon? It has not even been a full year.

Her hands trembled
beneath her cape, and she could barely stand on her own. How she wanted to
throw her arms around him and tell him how much she missed him.

“Thompson! What is
so important that it could not wait until morning? Has anything happened?”

“Be easy, man. I
assure you, Isabel and Emily are fine. I simply came here to escort a woman who
desperately wanted to see you.”

He scoffed. “If
this has anything to do with Mary Elizabeth, I—”

The
marquess
nodded, and Cordelia stepped forward into the
glowing light of the fireplace. Bastian turned toward her, and when she lifted
the hood of the cape, his eyes widened and his mouth gaped before he crashed to
the floor from swooning.

“
Oof
! I have to admit, I did not quite
expect that response.”

Cordelia abandoned
her cape where she stood and ran over to him, dropping to her knees.
Good heavens! What have I started?
The
man probably thought he was staring at a ghost. “Wake up, my love!” she
whispered as the butler walked in.

“What happened?”

“He just swooned.
I have it under control. If he was entertaining upstairs, can you see to the
lady and have her sent home immediately? He will need some rest, and I am
certain he will want some privacy.”

“Certainly, sir. I
shall have her removed immediately.”

So, he was entertaining another woman. How could he…
Fury simmered beneath the surface of her calm facade. Why had he
never come to confirm if the reports were true? She always knew Richard would
never waste a minute on her, but Bastian… They were so close. Kindred spirits.
He should have been able to feel, somehow, that she was alive.

Disappointment
washed over her. Instead of fawning over his swoon, Cordelia jumped to her
feet, walked over to sideboard, and grabbed a bottle of port. Then, she
returned to him and began to unscrew the cork.

“Cordelia, what
are you doing?”

“Getting him to
come out of his swoon.”

“With that?”

“Yes. Do you take
issue with my course of action, my lord?”

The
marquess
stepped away and waved for her to continue.

“If you would
rather leave, I am quite capable of waking and caring for him.”

“I will leave the
two alone once I am assured you can stay. Though we should not stay too late.”

“And I assure you,
my lord, once I have said what I have to say, he will probably want me removed
from the premises immediately.”

“In that case, I
will wait in the hall for you.”

Once his lordship
closed the door behind him, she dumped the bottle of port over Bastian’s face.
He sputtered at first, and when his eyes opened wildly, followed by oaths being
muttered, he stared at her and jumped to his feet.

“Damnation, woman!
You are alive!”

He practically
collided into her to embrace her, and all she could do was slap him. Her hand
stung from the impact. She instantly regretted her action, but how else was she
to express her displeasure at his courting another woman?

Bastian growled at
her. “What in the world was that for?”

“That was for not
looking for me! And if I were you, I would stay back. I am liable to slap you
again for entertaining other female guests.”

“Cordelia…please!
You have to understand. All of the
ton
thinks you are dead. Hell, everyone thought you dead. The carriage was
decimated.”

“But you did not
come, not until that night in the inn, and even then, you were not searching me
out. Tell me, how many whores have you entertained since my supposed death? Has
anyone come close to pleasuring you the way I did so faithfully.”

The earl shook his
head at her with vehemence. “Sweetheart, had I suspected there was even the
smallest chance of your survival, I would have sought you out.”

I doubt that.
“When you decide to come
to your senses, I am only in town for a few more days. I did have much to say
to you, but I am so furious with you right now, ’tis best I wait.” She walked
toward the door.

“Cordelia…wait…”
Stay here, love. There is plenty of room.”

“I did not travel
alone. And, unlike you, I have a responsibility to see to.
Adieu
.” Cordelia opened the door to see the
marquess
gazing at her with a quizzical brow. “My lord, I am ready to leave.”

“Are you certain?
You and Wycliffe appear to have unresolved issues.”

“Our issues will
most likely remain unresolved until I can calm down.”

“Very well, come
along. I am sure Duncan can fix you a nice tea to soothe you.”

Nothing could possibly soothe me. Nary a paddling could not handle.
That is precisely what the oblivious earl required—a spanking to make him
understand.

* * * *

“I cannot believe
you dumped port on him, your grace.”

“How many times
must I tell you, my lord, stop addressing me as so? Besides, Bastian deserved
it. I am tired of being taken advantage of.”

The
marquess
cocked his head to the side as if she had said
something trivial.

“What has you so
perplexed, my lord?”

“I am just not
sure how you think that you have been taken advantage of.”

Of course you have not noticed, you dolt. That is because you are
happily married and are not paying attention to what is actually transpiring.
He has only moved on and forgotten all that we had.

“It matters not,
my lord. Now that all the items have been collected, I will give Bastian one
day to come to me. Otherwise, I shall forget his very existence. I am simply
done playing games, and Matthew will grow up knowing his father died with honor
instead of knowing how much of a cad he really is.” Cordelia folded her arms
across her chest, leaned back into the seat of the carriage, and closed her
eyes. As far as she was concerned, the discussion was over.

“Now, just wait on
a minute, Cordelia! If you think that man did not mourn you, you do not know
Bastian as well as you think you do. That man drowned in his sorrows for many
months, risking his own welfare and family fortune. The guilt he carries about
your affair, to never rescuing you from the clutches of Richard. You will never
know the impact you truly had on him. Were it not for Lord Avonlea, I fear
Bastian would have been a lost cause to all.”

What on earth is he talking about? Bastian had more sense about him,
then to drink himself into oblivion.
“I know not of
what you are speaking. Indulge my curiosity, sir.”

The
marquess
huffed. “Forgive my frankness, Cordelia, but
whatever I say now, I say in pure confidence. The Earl of Bridgeton some time
ago confided in me that he pulled the gent out of Madame Martine’s
establishment.
’Twas
rumored he has a penchant for
binding. He came in one night so foxed that I was asked to remove him. I know
not of what transpired, but I do know that his obsession is with you.”