Page 13 of The Duke's Tempting Widow
Lydia’s gaze dropped to the man’s broad chest and the slope of muscle hidden by his well-tailored clothes. Even the cut of his coat seemed unable to disguise the size of his arms. Shecould not even imagine what sort of life the man had to leave in order to have muscles like that. He could likely lift her with ease.
Memory flickered again.
She needed to get a hold of herself.
Obviously, she had had help, but she was never going to admit to such a thing out loud. She did not know this man, and she certainly had no reason to trust him whatsoever.
Even less reason to be honest with him about how she had enlisted her butler for help. She would never implicate her staff in something nefarious. If this stranger was going to attempt to use it as leverage against her, she would never allow it. They were far too important to her.
“Well, no. I suppose that such a thing would be simple for you…” she muttered, very deliberately not meeting his gaze once more.
“Cassian was a snake when we were children, and he is a snake now. Truthfully, I wondered if he was going to come sniffing around for a piece of the inheritance. Normally he comes crawling on his belly to me for money instead of impersonating my whole identity. Perhaps this will finally teach him his lesson. Though, I doubt it.”
Lydia could only imagine the history that the two of them had together. Yet, even as he spoke about Cassian his words were not cruel.
“And what, exactly, are you planning on doing with said inheritance Your Grace?” Lydia asked though she was afraid of the answer.
Weston slowly turned his focus back to her and it was difficult to withstand the intensity of his focused gaze. “Is this the portion of the meeting where we get down to business? Should we not handle one matter at a time?”
Lydia shook her head. “No, I think that it would be best if we handled these important matters quickly so that there is no time for you to get any delusions in your head about what should happen here.”
Weston’s brow arched. “Oh? Do go on.”
“I understand that because you are the male next of kin that you technically have been listed as the proprietor of this estate. I hope that you will not be the same sort of oily man as your cousin over there where you wish to come in and disrupt the life that we have built here. Least of all during our time of grieving.”
Lydia knew that it was possibly a low blow on her part to bring the widow angle into this, but she was willing to use anything at her disposal if it meant that she was going to get what she needed. “The estate should remain in my hands. At least informally. It is my home, and it is the home of my daughters. All of their familial memories are here, and I intend to finish raising them here. It is my right.”
“Because you are the dowager countess?” Weston asked, his thumb running along his full bottom lip as he questioned her.
“In exchange for your generosity and understanding,” Lydia continued to speak over him. She needed to get her proposition out before he stopped her. She had to at leasttry. “I will continue to run the estate for you, just as I have for the many years that my husband spent traveling.”
“That is… quite untraditional.” Weston countered.
She could not read his expression. Was he shutting her down? Was this some sort of counter? Was she just wasting her breath? She could not tell.
“So, you mean to kick us out? You mean to take my daughter from me?” Lydia rose from her seat, her voice growing louder with every word.
Weston’s smile faded, but his eyes were still alight. Why?
“Now, now, settle down.”
There was nothing that she hated more than being told to settle down. She did not tolerate being made to feel as if her emotions were anything less than valid. Least of all from a man. Her father had done that her whole life and she had no choice but to obey him. When he basically sold her off to Jacob, she had no choice but to do his bidding. She would not allow such a fate for herself again.
Weston stood, towering over her and she was forced to lift her chin to look up at him. He fumbled over his words for just a moment as she held his gaze. Whatever he was originally going to say, it seemed as if he quickly changed his mind about it.
When he spoke, something inside of her withered. The last small kernel of hope that she had indulged in, perhaps.
“A steward will be placed here to take over everything. The earl’s daughter shall be free to remain here to be raised under the care of a governess. It is simply how these things are done.”
Chapter 7
If there was one thing that she never would be again, it would be backed into a corner.
Fury and despair mixed together inside of her belly to form a noxious cocktail of emotions far too large for her body to handle. Her mind seemed determined to work overtime and supply her with myriad things that would beterribleto say out loud.
“Over my dead body.” Lydia seethed; the words pushed through her teeth as she glared up at the larger man.
To his credit, he seemed to blanch at the sheer vitriol in her words.
