Chapter 9

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"You do not seem very hungry this morning, Cordelia," Lady Mayfield stated as she looked at the young lady sitting across from her at the breakfast table.

For most of the morning, she had been unusually withdrawn. And when it became apparent that she was hardly eating, the Countess' concern rose. "Are you feeling all right?"

Cordelia finally returned her gaze. She smiled, but the effort was forced. "Yes, Aunt Eloise. I am just not hungry this morning."

"It could be from all the dancing last night. You must be feeling tired."

"That is most likely the cause," Cordelia agreed.

"Precisely why you should not partake in such activities in the first place," George stated plainly from his position at the head of the table.

The ladies glanced towards him, but it was his mother who responded, "Now, George, you are aware that you will never find a wife unless you are willing to dance with her first."

"Dancing in a crowded room, surrounded by countless eyes watching your every action for the tiniest mistake? I would rather not."

His mother sighed at his stubborn nature and shook her head. "I would like to be a grandmother one of these days, you know."

"Children tire someone even more than dancing. I would avoid it as well."

"You seem quite the expert on the matter," Lady Mayfield responded with a dry tone.

George shrugged his shoulders as he buttered a slice of toast. "I am merely observant. And from what I have seen of families with many children, there is nothing but chaos. But no matter about my opinion on the topic, Cordelia seems quite at ease with the Viscount. I am certain you will have little children running around your feet soon enough, Mother."

The Countess returned her attention to the younger lady, who had kept her face downcast towards her plate for most of the meal, her mouth tightening at the mention of the Viscount.

"Before I forget, the Dowager has invited us for afternoon tea, Cordelia. Lady Alicia has been determined to speak to you." When Cordelia glanced up, Lady Mayfield noticed the sudden paleness on her face, which caused her to frown with concern. "Are you certain that you are quite well? Perhaps I should call for a doctor."

Her niece lowered her gaze once more. "I am certain. I did not sleep well last night that is all. Will . . . the Marquis be there?"

"I do not know. There was no mention of him so I can only assume that it is the Dowager and Lady Alicia who will be present."

"I see."

Silence encompassed them, and Cordelia forced herself to eat the remaining food on her plate. After her morning walk with the Marquis, she was nervous to spend any length of time with his household on the possibility that he may be present. The likelihood of seeing him in his own home was far greater than seeing him at a function.

The rest of the morning passed by quickly, and Martha had just finished the final twists to Cordelia's hair and placed a few diamond pins to keep them in place when she was told that the Countess was ready to leave for the Marquis' house.

The afternoon sun was warm against their shoulders as they walked the short distance between the two London houses, and Cordelia felt her muscles tighten when they arrived and the door was opened for them. As the butler escorted them through the house, her eyes kept glancing all around her, looking for even the tiniest hint that the Marquis was there.

It felt peculiar being in the house while a ball was not being hosted. Without the many people and their murmuring voices, the large home seemed very quiet and almost . . . lonely.

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