A Sense of Propriety

Chapter 19

They walked through the trees in silence, the darkness enhanced by the thick foliage of leaves making the forest seem even darker than the light of dusk suggested. The Marquis led the way, for which Cordelia was grateful. It offered her a chance to come to grips with the feelings that were akin to a torrent beneath her skin.

The loss of her parents would always be painful to contemplate, and visiting her childhood home brought those feelings to the forefront of her thoughts. From what she could remember, her father had been a man of firm standing, and she recalled thinking the odd time that he was a little hard on her mother. Maybe Cordelia was just sensitive and doted on her mother more than her father—as any daughter naturally would—but she felt that he could have been more understanding of her illness.

But then again, it was not like they had money to allow her to rest as often as she should have.

Nevertheless, although they had not been the perfect parents, they were still her parents and she had loved them regardless.

She just wished that she had a little more time with them on this earth.

The thick cover of trees broke abruptly, and the sudden contrast of dense foliage to wide, open lawns jarred her from her thoughts.

She looked around, noting that they faced the West side of the looming house before them. Darkness had fallen over the land now, and she noticed a few windows that had the warm glow of fires illuminating their glass panes.

Cordelia was about to step forward, lest she get caught standing outside with only the Marquis when she heard him chuckle.

The sound was warm and pleasing to her ear in a manner that was entirely uncalled for, and the sudden unprovoked humour caused her to look back at him quizzically.

His stormy gaze, alight with mirth, looked back at her. "I was thinking of the first time we met," he explained with a smile. "Do you remember?"

Cordelia felt her cheeks blossom as red as the Poppies dotting the landscape. "I do . . ." she murmured, lowering her eyes instinctively. "And I beg you not to repeat it."

"Why not? It was one of the happiest days of my youth."

The confession was sudden and her face grew hot, though for an entirely different reason this time. Slowly, she looked up at him to notice that his face was downturned to look at her. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed into his stormy eyes.

"I remember riding my stallion, thinking all was right with the world," he started softly as he continued to gaze at her. "He had just opened himself in a long galloping stride when a figure suddenly fell from a tree along this very boundary and landed before him. He veered the one way and I the other. For a moment, I could not think as the events slowly caught up to me, and I looked to see a young girl dressed in boy's clothes slowly pulling herself up from the dust. It must be a family trait, using horses as a method of an introduction," he added with a hint of a tease to his voice.

Her face flushed an even darker shade of crimson as she remembered the day Leviathan ran away with the Countess—an event which allowed the introduction between themselves and the Duke of Kentwood.

"I can assure you it is not."

"I know," the Marquis responded with a smile before his expression grew solemn. "But when I moved closer to see if you were hurt, you ran away from me."

Cordelia forced her gaze away from him. "You cannot blame me for doing so. I was inappropriately dressed and trespassing on your father's land. I would have been in severe trouble if I was caught."

"I know, which is why I did not follow you. Though the sight of you was ingrained in my memory. I thought that I would never see you again. Imagine my astonishment all those weeks later in London where it was revealed to me that you were the niece of the Countess. You . . . cannot fathom the relief and joy I felt upon knowing that I would have a chance to speak to you."