Chapter 10 - The Night the Duke Told the Truth
Blackwater Bridge crossed a narrow gorge two miles north of Thornwood.
Cordelia’s father had died near it fourteen years earlier.
Now Vale wanted her there before dawn.
History, Cordelia thought bitterly, possessed a cruel imagination.
Julian’s plan required Cordelia to appear alone.
She hated it.
Westcott hated it.
Every servant who heard fragments of it hated it.
That was how she knew Julian had designed something plausible.
“You will carry copies,” he said.
Cordelia stared at the false survey.
“And if Vale recognizes them?”
“He will.”
“Excellent plan.”
“Eventually.”
“I am reassured.”
“Give him enough time to bring Edmund into view.”
“And where will you be?”
“Close.”
“How close?”
“Close enough.”
“That is deliberately vague.”
“Yes.”
“Julian.”
“Cordelia.”
She glared.
He softened.
“If Vale sees additional riders, he leaves with Edmund. You need to believe I will be there.”
Cordelia swallowed.
“I do.”
The words surprised both of them.
Julian reached into his pocket.
He gave her a small pistol.
Cordelia stared.
“I have never fired one.”
“Then do not unless absolutely necessary.”
“Comforting.”
He showed her the mechanism.
Her hands shook.
Julian noticed.
“Cordelia.”
“I am fine.”
“No.”
She looked up.
“You do not need to pretend with me.”
Something broke.
Not loudly.
Cordelia simply stopped holding herself together.
“What if he hurts him?”
Julian pulled her against him.
This time he did not ask.
Because she had already moved first.
Cordelia pressed her face against his chest.
“I cannot lose him.”
“You will not.”
“You do not know that.”
“No.”
His hand rested against her hair.
“But you will not face it alone.”
She cried then.
Quietly.
Angrily.
For Marian.
Her father.
The years of cold rooms.
For Edmund sleeping with his wooden horse.
For every time Beatrice had told her tears were useless.
Julian did not tell her to stop.
He simply held her.
Eventually Cordelia pulled back.
“I have ruined your waistcoat.”
“I own others.”
“Of course you do.”
“I have scandalous wealth.”
She laughed through tears.
Julian wiped one tear from her cheek.
His thumb lingered.
Neither moved.
“You asked once,” Cordelia whispered.
His eyes darkened.
“May I?”
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
Not dramatically.
Not possessively.
It was softer than Cordelia expected.
Almost careful.
That nearly undid her again.
She placed one hand against his chest.
His heartbeat was as fast as hers.
When they separated, Julian rested his forehead against hers.
“I have wanted to do that since the fence.”
“You were extremely annoying at the fence.”
“I was charming.”
“You criticized my carpentry.”
“Constructively.”
Cordelia laughed.
Then reality returned.
“Edmund.”
“Yes.”
They left.
Cordelia reached Blackwater Bridge before dawn.
Mist filled the gorge.
Vale waited beside a carriage.
Edmund was nowhere visible.
Cordelia stopped twenty feet away.
“Where is he?”
Vale smiled.
“You came.”
“Where is Edmund?”
“Documents.”
“Child first.”
“You have learned negotiation.”
“I had unpleasant teachers.”
Vale extended his hand.
Cordelia held the leather case.
“Show me Edmund.”
Vale signaled.
A carriage door opened.
Edmund appeared.
His hands were tied.
Cordelia’s vision blurred red.
“Mama Cordy!”
“I am here.”
Vale caught him by the shoulder.
“You see? Entirely unharmed.”
“If you touch him again—”
“What?”
Vale smiled.
“You will glare?”
Cordelia forced herself still.
“What happened to my father?”
Vale’s smile faded.
“Give me the documents.”
“You met him here.”
“Your aunt talks too much.”
“He wrote it down.”
“Charles was sentimental.”
“Did you kill him?”
Vale sighed.
“He refused to understand business.”
Cordelia felt cold.
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only one you need.”
Behind Vale, Edmund was crying silently.
Cordelia held up the case.
“I want the truth.”
“You have no leverage.”
“I can throw this into the gorge.”
Vale’s eyes sharpened.
“You would destroy your own fortune?”
“For him?”
Cordelia looked at Edmund.
“Yes.”
Vale believed her.
That was his mistake.
“Your father discovered the coal,” he said. “He intended to expose several transactions.”
“So you killed him.”
“I frightened his horse.”
Cordelia stopped breathing.
Vale shrugged.
“I did not tell the animal to throw him.”
Rage became strangely calm.
“And the Duke’s father?”
Vale’s face changed.
Cordelia understood.
“You killed him too.”
“He was ill.”
“You made him ill.”
“I had friends who understood powders.”
Cordelia nearly dropped the case.
Two murders.
Perhaps more.
Vale stepped forward.
“Now give me the papers.”
Cordelia threw the case toward him.
He grabbed it.
Opened it.
His face twisted.
“Copies.”
Cordelia ran toward Edmund.
Vale seized her.
A gunshot cracked.
Vale released her.
Julian emerged from the mist with two constables.
Westcott and several riders appeared behind him.
Vale dragged Cordelia backward, pistol against her throat.
“Stay there!”
Julian stopped.
His face became terrifyingly calm.
“Release her.”
“Throw down your weapon.”
Julian did.
Vale smiled.
“Very noble.”
Cordelia felt his arm tighten.
Then Edmund kicked Vale’s shin.
Hard.
Vale cursed.
Cordelia twisted free.
Julian lunged.
The pistol fired into the air.
Constables tackled Vale.
Edmund ran.
Cordelia dropped to her knees.
He crashed into her arms.
“Mama!”
She held him so tightly he squeaked.
“I am sorry,” he cried. “I opened the window because a man said you were hurt.”
“It is not your fault.”
“I was scared.”
“So was I.”
Julian approached.
Edmund reached one arm toward him.
Julian knelt and allowed the boy to pull him into their embrace.
For a moment they remained there.
Three people in the mist.
No titles.
No debts.
No contracts.
Only relief.
Then Vale began laughing behind them.
Everyone turned.
“You think this ends anything?”
Julian stood.
“It ends your freedom.”
Vale smiled through blood on his lip.
“You have a confession witnessed by a desperate woman and a child.”
“Also two constables,” Westcott said.
Vale’s expression shifted.
Westcott smiled.
“And one additional witness.”
Beatrice stepped from the second carriage.
Vale stared.
She held a small notebook.
“I kept records,” she said.
“For fourteen years.”
Vale finally looked afraid.
Cordelia stared at her aunt.
Beatrice’s voice shook.
“I was a coward once.”
She looked at Cordelia.
“I will not be one again.”
Vale was taken away.
The sun rose.
Cordelia believed the worst was over.
She was wrong.
Because when they returned to Ravensworth, a letter from London awaited Julian.
His financial agent had acted on instructions Julian had given days earlier.
Thornwood’s entire debt had been purchased.
By the Duke of Ravensworth.
Cordelia read the letter twice.
Then looked at the man she had kissed hours earlier.
“You bought my debt?”
Julian’s face changed.
“Cordelia—”
“You promised no hidden obligations.”
“I was trying to protect the estate.”
“You bought it without telling me.”
“Yes.”
The warmth she had felt at Blackwater vanished.
Beatrice had controlled her through secrecy.
Vale had controlled her through debt.
And now Julian—kind, infuriating Julian—had done exactly what he promised never to do.
He had decided what was best for her.
Without asking.
May you like
Cordelia handed him the letter.
“Then perhaps you never understood me at all.”
