Page 45 of My Ruthless Duke
What right did he have to pretend that he was the one who had the right to protect her? And where was he when her family needed him before?
Matthew’s jaw tightened. “Your husband killed your father, Cordelia. Has he admitted that to you yet?”
The comment was so far-fetched that she could not even believe it. It would have been more feasible to hear that flowers were falling from the sky outside. “What?” Cordelia laughed. “You have truly gone mad. Honestly, I have heard enough.”
“Dorian is a ruthless, cruel man. He is a killer. He does not, and never will care about anything but himself,” Matthew continued with a serious expression.
Something about him speaking so informally about her husband truly got under her skin. It crawled deeper, making her more uncomfortable with each passing moment.
“Do you have proof?”
“Proof?” Matthew echoed.
“I know that you did not come uninvited into my home, to accuse my husband of such horrible things without evidence. I will see your proof now, or you are going to get out,” Cordelia said firmly, all hints of her smile gone.
“You are seriously not going to say anything else?” Matthew did not move as he spoke. “I have known you nearly your whole life, and you are just going to dismiss me like that?”
“So, you have no proof. You have come here uninvited at such a late hour to throw around baseless accusations about my husband. And, for what? Do you truly think of me as such a cloud-headed woman as to not have taken the time to properly get to know my husband? You are wrong. I certainly know him better than you ever shall. Now, go.”
Cordelia nodded her head toward the door, determined not to say another word. Could he truly not see how much his words were hurting her? He was one of her oldest and dearest friends, and to say such very hurtful things to her… it was like he was tearing their friendship apart, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“Listen to me, Cordelia. I do not like you being alone with that man. He is dangerous. If nobody else is willing to caution you away from him or is trying to shield the truth from you—he is responsible for your father’s death.” Matthew concluded as he rose from the chair. “If you do not believe me, ask him yourself.”
She glared at him, as he stood there waiting for her to buckle or to come to her senses. Had he really thought that he could say such things and she was just going to blindly believe him? Dorian had confessed things to her that made her understand him, and she certainly was not going to make light of that effort.
When it was clear that she was not going to budge in her stance, Matthew hissed and started to leave.
“Fine. Have it your way, Cordelia.”
He paused in the doorway and had the audacity to look at her with longing.
“I shall be waiting for you when you find out the truth but do not say I did not warn you. I can be a far better husband to you than him.”
Was that what this was about? Did he think that if he was the one to ruin her marriage, she was going to throw herself into his arms and beg and plead for him to help her? Was this just misplaced affection? Either way, he was hurting her. How could he choose to be so blind to the pain he was putting her in with such terrible accusations?
“Enough. Get out,” Cordelia hissed.
Matthew turned his heel and left Cordelia, sitting at the table with a head full of questions.
Chapter 21
“Iwondered if you were coming home tonight…” Cordelia’s sweet voice greeted Dorian when he staggered into her bedroom.
The hour was late, and it would have made perfect sense for her to have already been asleep. Despite the last vestiges of whiskey still soaking his mind, he had not meant to make her wait around for him. He had just needed to mentally sort through some things before he had been able to return to her.
There was absolutely nothing about the conversation that he was going to have with her that was going to be easy. He had made up his mind that this was going to be the right move for them, but it made nothing easier. Dorian pulled off his boots and started to undo his waistcoat. He was moving with deliberate slowness in an attempt to compose himself or think of the best way that he should mention thighs… where to even start. If he was being wholly honest, he was stalling.
“You missed quite an eventful evening,” Cordelia continued when he did not speak. “Though, that might be for the best, considering one of the events was less than pleasant.”
Oh, he had missed her tea, had he not? He had been so distracted, so consumed with his own thoughts that he had been careless about it. Now he would have to make that up to her, too.
Dorian glanced at his wife; the way she was holding the blankets clutched to her chest, waiting for him to join her, or to say something. She looked so very beautiful like that, with her hair loose around her shoulders and her cream-colored nightgown slipping off her shoulder just ever so slightly. It would be easy to go over there and crawl into bed with her. Even simpler to affix his lips to hers and seduce her, to quiet her troubles with his tongue and hands until she was writhing under him. But, if he did, then he knew that he would not tell her anything.
She was so painfully beautiful that it made his heart clench.
“What happened?” He asked, hoping he did not slur his words. It had been… more than a little liquid courage that he had needed.
“My mother invited herself to my tea party, for one,” she said as she shifted in bed so that her legs were in front of her, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees. “And then Matthew came to call after dinner.”