Page 4 of Duchess By Condition
“Thank you, Williams.” Violet squared her shoulders and walked out to the garden, ready to confront Noah.
Later, she would be forced to admit to herself that she hadn’t been watching where she was going. She had been so fixated on the garden ahead of her, looking for a sign of Noah, that she hadn’t looked left or right to see who might be approaching. So what came next was as much her fault as anybody else’s, and possibly more so. But in the moment, that was a difficult fact toacknowledge. And when the man coming around the corner of the hedge collided with her and nearly sent her sprawling to the ground—he would have done so if he hadn’t caught her by the arm and pulled her back upright—she met him with a ferocious glare. “My goodness, watch where you’re going!”
“Excuse me?” The man raised his eyebrows at her.
She pulled her arm free of his grip and dusted herself off. This must be the gardener, she decided, but didn’t he ever pay attention to what was going on around him? What kind of gardener was he? “If you want to keep your position here,” she told him, “you’re going to have to mind your step a bit more carefully.” It was much harsher than she would ordinarily have been with someone who worked for her, and she did feel a pang of guilt for speaking to him that way. She would apologize later, but right now, she had to prioritize finding Noah. She had to get away from this interaction.
He was staring at her, a deep frown etched on his face. His eyes were dark and piercing. He towered over her. “If I want to keep my position?” he repeated. “What do you think is happening here? Who do you think you are?”
She straightened up. “I am Lady Violet Hartwell. I’m the lady of the house.”
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter what youthink. That’s the truth. You don’t recognize me because I’ve just come into my inheritance, butthis is my home, and I expect you to respect that or find somewhere else to work. Don’t get the idea that I’m not able to hire another gardener,” she added. “There are plenty of people who would be willing to take your job.”
He snorted. “I’m no gardener, Lady Violet.”
“Then who are you?” A thrill of fear shot through her—had she been wrong to suppose that he worked here? Maybe he was a trespasser, or a burglar! She should have had Williams come outside with her…
“My name is Jonathan Ellington,” he said. “I’m the Duke of Alderwick.”
He lifted his chin as he said it, as though that was supposed to mean something in particular to her. It didn’t; not really. Of course, it was odd to think that there was a duke walking about on her property, but she had never heard of the Duke of Alderwick. “What are you doing on my land?” she asked him, withholding the honorific he was due. There was no reason to show respect to a man trespassing on her property.
“I might ask you the same question,” he shot back at her.
“I have no idea what you mean by that.”
“This isn’t your land,” he said. “Westlake Estate belongs to me.”
“I beg your pardon?” She shook her head. “You’re mistaken. Westlake was my Aunt Margaret’s home.”
“The Dowager Viscountess and I had an agreement,” the duke said. “She was in the process of selling the estate to me. Westlake is my property, Lady Violet, and you are the one who is in a place you ought not to be. I’ll thank you to remove yourself from my home at once, and if you refuse to do so, I’ll have to summon the authorities.”
CHAPTER 3
Several emotions chased through Violet in quick succession.
The first was fear. She couldn’t help feeling as though she’d done something wrong—she must have, if the result was being threatened with the authorities. And what if they were called? Would she be dragged off the property, locked behind bars, or thrown out on the street?
No, that doesn’t make sense.Of course, that wasn’t going to happen. She knew better than to think it. She had the copy of the will her father had given her, actual documentation that reassured her this housedidbelong to her. She hadn’t done anything illegal, and she wasn’t going to be arrested today. She would stand her ground.
The next emotion she felt was anger. How dare he try to frighten her like this? Given that she knew the house was hers, he must also know that he had no claim to it. What was he trying to do by telling such a wild tale? What did he think it was going toachieve? Was he trying to frighten her so badly that she would flee, so that he would be able to lay claim to her home by virtue of the fact that she simply wasn’t in it? What an underhanded tactic, if that was what he meant to do! Surely he couldn’t be such a vile person.
Though I don’t know why I say that. Why couldn’t he be utterly vile, if he’s the sort of man who sneaks onto someone else’s land?
“You had better leave,” she said firmly. “I’ll summon my footmen to drag you out.”
“Well, they aren’t your footmen,” he told her. “They’re my footmen. As I told you already, this is my property.”
“You can say it all you want, but that doesn’t make it true.”
“I have the paperwork I can show you.”
“I have paperwork of my own. I have my aunt’s will, in which she clearly states that the home belongs to me.”
“You expect me to take a woman’s word for that?”
“Do you think I can’t read just because I’m a woman? I read the document thoroughly, I know what it says. But no, you don’t have to take me at my word. I’m more than happy to show it to you—though I really shouldn’t have to do such a thing.”
