An heiress to one of Britain's most impressive fortunes, Cordelia Gardiner has always done what her strict father expects her to, manage the estate, host dinners, mind her manners. After years of adhering to his demanding expectations, however, Cord...
I'm so so sorry to you guys that I haven't been updating-I've been studying abroad the past few weeks, but I promise I'll get better! I've also started working on a new piece that's almost like a viking story, it's a little more mature than this one, but very very interesting (also inspired by my travels here in Estonia), but I want to try and wrap up "A Daughter's Duty" before I release anything for that, but if that's something you think you're interested in, comment and tell me your thoughts-PLEASE (I wanna hear 'em!!!). I'm so grateful to all of you, and I'd love to hear your ideas about this story too! If you're enjoying the story, tell your friends about it, tell your cat about it, and please don't hesitate to share the story, comment, and vote! You all mean so so much to me, thank you again for your support, now on with the story!!
Buzzing from the pints she'd shared with Charles, Cordelia took a deep breath, and began to share her story.
Cordelia tried her hardest to not look taken aback by her mother's question. She shifted, suddenly very uncomfortable. Her mother's piercing eyes weren't helping to ease her discomfort either. Maybe she's joking, Cordelia thought, and she began to laugh just to break the silence in the room.
"Oh Mother, you're such a riot!" She said, her laughter dying out when she noticed Margaret's face was stone cold.
"My dear, as...pleased..as I am to see you, you're here for business, love, not for pleasure. Now have you come here with what I've requested of you or no?" Cordelia gulped as her mother's stare intensified.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Excuse me?" Cordelia asked, her hands beginning to shake, "I know you must be joking."
"I don't believe I spoke with a stutter, dear. Your father isn't replenishing my allowance as much as he promised. The bills are stacking up. You wouldn't want your poor mother out on the streets, would you?"
"I cannot believe I came all the way out here for you. Father was right about you, you don't care about him, or me, or being a part of this family. You're always just going to want more and more and more." She had stood up, now furious. Margaret remained in her seat, trying to stay calm despite Cordelia's outburst.
"Now Cordelia, I don't believe that's fair-"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"No no no, you do not get to tell me what's fair and what isn't. Unfair is you leaving Father and I at Loddington twenty years ago, and never coming back. Unfair is the shame you brought on this family so that you could galavant half-drunk around Covent Garden. Unfair is the past twenty years I've had to go through alone in that damned place, with no mother to call my own." Cordelia sat back down, quickly rummaging to collect her things.
"Do you think I wanted to leave? Really Cordelia, that's what you think?" Margaret looked flustered, and Cordelia sat down, eagerly awaiting whichever pathetic excuse she would come up with.
"Fine, I'll bite. Why did you leave?"
Margaret took a breath, running her hands along her legs. Cordelia noticed how haggard her mother looked. Rouge from her lips was slightly smeared on the skin around her mouth, and kohl that must've originally been applied to her lashes was smudged onto her eyelids. She thought for a moment about the woman in front of her being the great lady of Loddington, but the thought was too much to fathom. Cordelia had no inkling of what Loddington would look like with this messy, worn-down Margaret at its helm.
"I left because I...I didn't fit in there. There wasn't a place for me in that life, do you understand?" Margaret appeared as if she was trying to make herself cry, wiping away tears that didn't exist, and feigning sobs.
"I understand perfectly, mother. You didn't belong there," she started, putting on her gloves and turning away from her actress of a mother, rolling her brown eyes.
"Exactly, my dear. Now you're understanding it!" Margaret's fake crying ceased, and she looked to her daughter suddenly very pleasant, Cordelia's face was stony in return.
"But if there was no place for you there, there can't be a place for you here, in my family. I'm leaving you with the money you requested, but I will make sure this is the last money of my father's your greedy hands will ever hold. You will not contact any of us again, if there is any part of your heart that still holds love for me, for Father." Now Margaret was crying for real, but whether it was for Cordelia's casting her out of the family or the ceasing of her income, Cordelia didn't care to guess.
She rose again, forcing more words to come out while she still felt strong enough to utter them. "Take this," she said, handing her the envelope of cash, "find yourself your own place." She began to walk away, Margaret hunched on the chair Cordelia left her in. On her way out, she noticed another one of her mother's "guests" passed out on top of the piano.
"Perhaps one of your...friends...will take you in." She opened the door, a tear that she would never let Margaret see slipping down her cheek. All the strength she felt inside to stand against her mother suddenly draining out of her onto the cobblestone street.
"Then I found you," she said, staring up from her drink into Charles' brown eyes.
"Cordelia, I'm so sorry, that is so much worse than I could've imagined." He placed a hand over hers, and Cordelia felt that familiar hot feeling she always had when Charles did things like this. "What do you need from me?"
"If that invitation to your friend's estate is still open, I'd very much like to take you up on it now." Charles nodded in agreement, and she could almost see the gears turning in his head, trying to work together all of the logistics.
"Of course, anything. We can stay the night there, and book passage on the train back to Loddington tomorrow." He took a puff of the cigarette she hadn't realized he'd lit during her story, and she smiled.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Thank you, I'm so much more grateful than you could know." She said, giving his hand a squeeze. Charles' eyebrow shot up, and he smirked with the cigarette still in his mouth.
"You know I'll always want to take care of you Cordelia, for as long as you'll let me."
