She Was Sold to an Old Duke — But His Wedding Night Gift Changed Everything
Chapter 18
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The library descended into a ringing, absolute silence.Reginald sat frozen, the blood completely drained from his face, leaving him looking like a wax figure. Agatha dropped her handkerchief."That is a lie," Reginald finally choked out. He gripped the arms of his chair, his knuckles turning white. "That is impossible! The mines are the estate! The estate is mine!""The stone walls of this house are yours, Your Grace," Mr. Davies said, not looking up from the document. "The moors are yours. The title is yours. But the money belongs to the Dowager Duchess.""I will contest it!" Reginald shouted, leaping to his feet, pointing a trembling finger at Josephine. "She manipulated a dying old man! She poisoned his mind! Mr. Finch, tell them we will drag this through the courts until she is penniless!"Mr. Finch slowly took off his spectacles. He looked at the documents on the desk, then looked at Reginald with a mixture of pity and professional detachment. "My lord, if the mining company was indeed separated from the entailment, and the proxy was signed while the Duke was of sound mind, a court battle would take years, and you do not have the capital to fund it. She does."Reginald stared at his solicitor, the reality of his situation crashing down on him: he had inherited a massive, crumbling stone fortress and an empty bank account; he owned the fireplace, but Josephine owned the coal.He turned his terrified, furious eyes back to Josephine.She sat perfectly still behind the massive oak desk. She did not smile; there was no joy in this victory. It was simply the final, necessary placement of a heavy iron barricade."I am leaving for London in the morning," Josephine said, her voice calm, cutting through the heavy air of the library. "I have no desire to freeze in this house for another winter. You may keep the Yorkshire estate, Reginald. You may play the Duke. But understand this: the maintenance of this roof, the wages of your servants, and the food on your table will be paid for by a monthly stipend issued from my office in Mayfair."She stood up, the heavy black silk of her mourning gown rustling softly."If you ever raise your voice to me again, I will cut the stipend," she said, looking him dead in the eye. "If you ever attempt to contact my brother, I will cut the stipend. You will live quietly in the country, Reginald. You will not bother me, and in return, I will allow you to survive."She did not wait for his answer. She did not look at Lady Agatha, who was now weeping silently into her hands.Josephine walked past them, her spine straight, her footsteps echoing sharply against the hardwood floor. She stepped out into the grand hallway, the heavy library doors clicking shut behind her.She reached into the pocket of her black gown, her fingers closing around the cold, heavy iron key to the master bedchamber. She didn't need it to lock the world out anymore: the world belonged to her now.