She Was Sold to an Old Duke — But His Wedding Night Gift Changed Everything
Chapter 12
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Reginald's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "You arrogant little bitch! You think because you share his name, you hold any real power? The moment his heart stops, you are nothing! The estate entails to the male line—to me! I will throw you out into the snow with nothing but the clothes on your back! Give me the keys to the office now!"He took a heavy step toward her, raising his hand as if to physically shove her aside.Josephine did not retreat. She reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out a heavy iron key—not the key to the office, but the key to her bedroom door. She held it loosely in her palm, a physical reminder of the barricade she had built."If you touch me, Reginald," Josephine said, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper, "I will not call the footmen. I will call the magistrate.""On what grounds?" Agatha laughed, though it sounded shrill and nervous. "For demanding access to our own property?""On the grounds of attempted theft and trespassing," Josephine replied. She did not blink. "The estate entails to you, Reginald—yes, the title, the land. But the unentailed capital, the cash reserves, the personal investments, the private coal contracts that keep this entire bloated monolith afloat, he signed over to me three months ago. I hold proxy over every liquid asset the Duke possesses. Furthermore, my personal trust is heavily fortified."She watched Reginald's face pale. She drove the knife in deeper, twisting it with precision."If you force your way into that room, if you cause him even a moment of distress, I will bleed this estate dry," Josephine promised, her eyes locked on Reginald's. "I will halt the coal shipments. I will freeze the bank accounts. By the time the solicitors untangle the mess, the mines will flood, the workers will riot, and you will inherit a title attached to a mountain of catastrophic debt. I will ruin you, Reginald. I will ruin you just as thoroughly as my brother ruined himself."The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the ragged sound of Thomas breathing in the next room. Reginald stared at her: he saw the absolute, terrifying conviction in her dark eyes; he realized with a sickening drop in his stomach that she was not bluffing. She was 19, but she possessed a cold, ruthless pragmatism that he, in his 28 years of pampered existence, could not even fathom."You are a monster," Agatha whispered, horrified."I am a duchess," Josephine corrected flatly. "Get out of my house."Reginald swallowed hard. He looked at the closed door, then back at Josephine's unyielding face. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked out. Agatha shot one last venomous look at Josephine before gathering her damp skirts and hurrying after her son.Josephine stood perfectly still until the sound of their carriage wheels faded down the gravel drive. Only then did her shoulders drop; her hands began to shake. She leaned against the doorframe, sucking in a long, trembling breath.A weak, dry rasp came from the bedchamber. Josephine hurried into the room.Thomas was awake: his eyes were bloodshot, his face gray and shining with sweat, but he was looking at her. He had heard. He moved his hand slightly on the heavy quilt. Josephine sat on the edge of the mattress and took it: his skin was paper-thin and burning with fever, but his grip was surprisingly firm.