Chapter 8

                                    

                                          
Mr. Potter and Edward soon carried the young man up the stairs and placed him in the bed that her father had convalesced in. Cordelia fetched some water and cloths while Mrs. Potter went to grab some purgatives and herbs that would help the young man. Mr. Potter and Edward stripped the young man of his clothes and bundled him up in the bed. Cordelia was surprised to find them binding his feet together and then to the posts of the bed, and then covering him with a blanket, but she recalled their struggle with him when they had entered the house. The doctor was called for, and Cordelia set about washing the young man's face while Mrs. Potter prepared the purgative. Edward sat at the foot of the bed, his hair utterly disheveled and smelling of brandy. He looked up in admiration at his wife, who had not even questioned Edward once about who the young man was and why he had brought such a person to their home. As they sat there silently, Edward felt something surge in his chest, and he was frightened beyond all hope that it might be love.

The young man croaked awake and smiled at Cordelia again. He was subdued at the moment. His eyes were glassy, and he was so thin that his collar bones stuck out in a way that saddened Cordelia immensely. She could see that he was suffering from something far worse than too much drink, and wished that she could take away some of his pain.

"Are you an angel?" He croaked again, smiling at her as she pressed a cool cloth to his burning skin.

"Oh no, she is a mortal, I assure you." The Duke coughed and smiled, placing his hand upon Cordelia’s and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Hello, brother," the young man coughed. "I thought my vision of the devil was a hallucination, but now I realize it was just you."

The Duke laughed again, and took Cordelia's hand, kissing it and sending a shockwave through her body. "Jamie, may I present you with my wife, the lovely Cordelia, Duchess of Marlborough. And Cordelia, this ragamuffin whom you have been patiently caring for is my brother, the Imp of Marlborough, also known by his Christian name, James."

"Jamie, if you prefer," the young man croaked again. "Can I call you Cordy? I am so fond of pet names. Lord, Eddie she is very pretty. You lucky bastard."

Cordelia smiled and blushed at his words. Her amusement was soon cut short when the young man began coughing in a most violent manner, and it was soon apparent that blood was coming from his mouth.

The doctor was discreet yet honest. Jamie had been living a life of drink and whoring. His kidneys were not well, and although he was young, his chances of a full recovery were very slim, and the most they could do was pray, give him purgatives and keep him drinking lots of liquids and resting. With time, perhaps, and an abstention from his former bad habits, perhaps he could have some more time, but his prospects were dim. Cordelia stayed by the young man's side most of the time. She found herself drawn to him for some reason. Edward was nothing if not grateful for her devotion and found his desire for her growing as she dedicated herself to his brother's recovery.

As Jamie began his withdrawal from his vices, she found him feverish, often crying or speaking and yelling as if he was in another world and another time. She held his hand as he cried and spoke out, crying and begging for mercy, "Please, father, do not strike me, do not strike Edward, he has done nothing wrong." Chills ran up Cordelia's spine as Jamie grew hysterical, and as his yells reached a fever pitch, Edward ran into the room, and climbed into the bed, holding his brother in his arms, whispering, "It will be all right brother. I'm here." At those words, Jamie calmed down.

After four weeks, Jamie seemed to take a turn for the better, to their surprise. They had both been so exhausted at their care of him. Jamie had spent the day in lucidity, even having a pleasant and light-hearted conversation with them, asking them how they met, and telling a particularly naughty joke about a vicar and a maiden that made Cordelia blush. He was able to eat a whole serving of Mrs. Potter's delicious stew and was sound asleep and snoring when Cordelia and Edward escaped into the his office for a drink of brandy. Cordelia and Edward clinked their glasses together in his brother’s name and she sighed before throwing the glass back and gulping it all down. She made a naughty laugh before throwing herself back into Edward's arms and yawning.

It was an innocent gesture, but Edward felt a warmth spread through his body and felt his heart began to thump loudly. Cordelia turned to look at him and smiled, arching an eyebrow.

"So is this what you've been doing all these nights? Searching for Jamie? And me imagining you in a den of Sybarites. I guess I've done you the injustice that society has in judging you."

"If I have a reputation, it is at least partially deserved. I admit to having a soft spot in my heart for my brother, but I am still a bastard."

Cordelia laughed at that, and reached up and touched his face.

"Thank you," the Duke said softly. "For helping me with Jamie. He is weak, but has suffered much in his life. He is not as strong willed as I am."

Cordelia smiled at him, and the light in her eyes was too much for him. He took her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers, and at feeling the opening explored her warm mouth with her tongue, groaning in surprise at her doing the same. He felt the heat of desire spread through his body and when her slight arms wrapped around his neck and her bosom pressed against his chest, he felt himself harden. Shocked at his reaction, Edward tore away with a hasty apology.

"I am so sorry, Cordelia." He shook his head. "I did not mean to dishonor you so. I think we are both moved by what we have been through these past few weeks and the brandy, of course. I shall leave you now."

Without another word, Edward left the room. Cordelia sat there for a moment, wanting to call out and ask him to come back, but she found that she felt as if her heart was lodged in her throat.

It was Jamie who came up with the idea of returning to Brookington Hall. They were sitting in the parlor, Edward sitting at the desk and writing a letter. Cordelia was working on a handkerchief and Jamie was lounging on a settee and reading a novel. He broke the peace in the room, dropping his book to the floor and announcing that he wanted some fresh air. When Cordelia offered to take him on a short stroll through the park, Jamie assured her that only fresh country air would do.

"Are you sure that such a journey is wise right now, brother?" Edward put down his pen and looked at his little brother with a furrowed brow.

"No matter how cheerful your Mrs. smiles at me, I know that I am not long for this world." At these words Cordelia sat up but Jamie dismissed her concerned posture with a wave of his hand. "I long to bury my roots in our earth and our home before my time is up."

Edward nodded and gave Cordelia a smile. After Jamie excused himself to rest, Edward walked to the window, holding a glass of whiskey that he offered to his wife-in-name-only.

"You do not have to join us," Edward assured her. "You can remain in town if you like, or visit your father and step-sister if you would like."

Cordelia huffed at the notion. "I would be bored senseless here, and I have not fully forgiven my father nor my sister. I would much rather be with you and Jamie. If it is not a bother."

With that, a trunk was packed of her possessions and the trio began their journey to Edward and James’s childhood home, the majestic and grand Brookington Hall. Cordelia was excited to see the place where Edward had spent his childhood. She tried to imagine him as a young boy, but it was an unfathomable image. Edward was a man from the top of his head to his toes, and she could see nothing else except those strong arms and those piercing eyes, surrounded by a few wrinkles. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine him as a boy, but found herself wondering instead what his child would look like, if she was its mother. That thought filled her mouth with bitterness, because she could never truly be his wife.

The trio stopped at an inn, and Cordelia's heart raced when she realized that she and Edward would have to share a room. She was sorely disappointed, however, when as soon as they entered their accommodations Edward began to make a bed for himself on the floor using a pillow and some blankets. She said nothing as he kept his back turned so that she could undress with modesty and climb into the bed. She thought of offering him the bed, but could see that he would not be moved, and although there was nothing more that she wanted in this world than to be in his arms, she had no idea how to express this want, or if Edward would even oblige her. The man was a rake, and his fame stemmed from his wanton use of every woman in the world, but he would not even kiss his own wife. He had no passion for her.