Lady Evelyn? He had just called her Lady Evelyn?The audacity!
“It is Your Grace. Dowager Duchess of Sinclair,” she said firmly.
“Yes,” he replied. “Forgive my faux pas. I suppose a two-hour marriage still makes you entitled to…”—he shrugged— “…a great manner of things.”
He stood, bowed slightly, and made it clear he wished her to leave.
“Your Grace, it was a distinct pleasure to meet you,” he said.
She glared up at him from her chair, but realized she had no cause to remain. So she rose, turned, and stormed out of the room, her blood boiling at the man’s ill manners.
Standing once more in the hall—the hall of the house that was meant to be hers—she shook her head.
Here she was: twenty years old, a widow, and though she had funds to her name, she had no home.
And her future was, once again, entirely uncertain.
CHAPTER 2
“What a stubborn, willful creature,” Nathaniel said, watching her storm away. Then his focus returned to the solicitor. “I never thought my uncle would wish to wed someone as spirited as that. He always preferred ladies of a more docile temperament.”
The solicitor shrugged. “There were other considerations at play when it came to the match with Her Grace.”
“I see,” Nathaniel nodded. “Of course, given my uncle’s advanced years, there were not many lords willing to sell off their precious daughters to be bred.”
The solicitor gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes narrowed.
“Forgive my bluntness,” Nathaniel said. “But we both know what this marriage was for—to produce an heir, to keep me out of the line of succession. Again.”
“I am not familiar with your uncle’s plans or thoughts. I am only here to administer his estate. Now, as we have established, you are the sole heir. There will be more papers to sign, and a full accounting of the late Duke’s holdings will be forthcoming in the next few days. I ask for the funeral?—”
Nathaniel raised his hands. “I will leave that in your capable hands. I see you already have the undertaker here. Good. Say, is it absolutely necessary to have the old gout-ridden goat downstairs in the parlor?”
Crenshaw sucked in a gulp of air. Nathaniel realized he had been a little too crude. He might never have had a kind thought for his uncle, but Crenshaw had been fond of the old codger. Just why, he didn’t know. Nobody else seemed to like the man, but it was clear Crenshaw held him in high regard, perhaps because his uncle had kept Crenshaw rolling in coin for decades.
“It is customary until the funeral. People will want to pay their respects.”
“They will? Well, I shall wait with bated breath,” Nathaniel said. He knew he sounded bitter, but his uncle had pulled him hither and thither for years regarding the inheritance. In fact, he hadn’t thought he would ever actually inherit, since his uncle had done everything he could to prevent it. So it was fair enough to say he had no affection for his uncle, but he would do what was necessary.
“Very well, please arrange a dignified funeral for the man. There might be a soul or two out there in the world who may wish to bid him farewell. As for Lady?—”
“Her Grace,” Crenshaw corrected. He was nothing if not proper.
“Yes, her. I shouldn’t have to see her again, shall I?”
“I see no reason to. She will return to Earl Lowey’s home posthaste, I am certain.”
“Lowey?” Nathaniel frowned. He had heard that name before. “Isn’t he the one known for getting run out of Saint Giles because he didn’t pay his debts? I think I read something…”
Crenshaw pulled on his cravat and rolled his shoulders before gathering up his papers. “Something like that. I am uncertain. I pay no mind to scandals.”
“Only when I’m in them, eh, wot? To keep an eye on that no-good Scot.”
Crenshaw rose. “You are no more Scottish than I am Italian, Your Grace. Now, if that will be all…”
“That will be all indeed,” Nathaniel said with a flourish, and got up. He led the man to the door and bade him farewell, glad to have that part over with.
When he turned, he spotted the woman at the top of the stairs again. He had true trouble thinking of her as a duchess. He ought to use his position in the House of Lords to establish that one had to be married for at least twenty-four hours before such a title could be bestowed. It might keep people from making such hasty arrangements.
