"You're a Burden," the Duke Said at Breakfast — By Supper, She'd Refused His Fortune

"You're a Burden," the Duke Said at Breakfast — By Supper, She'd Refused His Fortune

Chapter 6

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Margaret waited until Eleanor's footsteps faded before speaking. "You must not let her leave without signing the sale."

Julian turned slowly. His mother was no longer looking at the doorway; she was staring at the rejected document with an expression he had never seen before: fear.

"Why?" he asked.

Margaret's hand closed around her napkin. "Because Percival Grant has already paid a deposit."

Julian felt the blood drain from his face. "A deposit to whom, Mother?"

"To whom, Mother?" Julian repeated.

Margaret's fingers tightened around her napkin until the lace disappeared inside her fist. "To the Ashkam estate account. Five thousand pounds."

Julian remained perfectly still. Beyond the dining room windows, rain struck the glass in uneven bursts.

"Who authorized you to accept it?"

"Your agent received the money after Mr. Grant wrote to me. I merely helped move matters along."

"Did you tell him the property belonged to Eleanor?"

Margaret lifted her chin. "Of course he knew whose name was involved."

"That was not my question."

She looked away.

Julian reached for the letter he had discovered beneath her breakfast saucer and unfolded it beside the rejected agreement. "The road is essential. What road?" he asked.

Margaret's expression changed only slightly, but he saw it. "The old service road behind the workshop. Grant requires access for his development."

"That road runs through Eleanor's property."

"Then it will be included in the sale."

Julian stared at his mother. "You assured him of that?"

"I assured him you would manage your wife."

The words settled between them. Julian looked down at the document Eleanor had refused; it contained no separate provision for the road. His secretary had prepared precisely what Julian had dictated: a proposal for the workshop sale, nothing more. Whatever Margaret had promised Grant, the matter was considerably less straightforward than she had led him to believe.

"I want every letter exchanged with Grant," he said. "Tonight."

Margaret rose. "You are making far too much of a perfectly ordinary business arrangement."

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"You're a Burden," the Duke Said at Breakfast — By Supper, She'd Refused His Fortune

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