Chapter Two #2
“Perhaps because you arrived with certain assumptions already in place,” Carrington suggested mildly.
Drake felt a flicker of discomfort. Had he been too quick to judge? But no—regardless of Lady Katherine’s character or capabilities, the fact remained that she now controlled assets that should rightfully be his.
“When do you meet with her?” Harrison asked.
“Tomorrow morning,” Drake replied. “At Wexford House.”
“Ah,” Carrington nodded sagely. “On her territory, with her brother present. A shrewd move on their part.”
Drake grimaced. “It wasn’t my choice.”
“No matter,” Carrington said, rising to his feet. “Just a word of advice, Lord Greythorne. Lady Katherine may have married Edmund, but she’s her father’s daughter through and through—and the old duke was known for his razor-sharp mind and uncompromising nature.”
With a slight bow, Carrington departed, leaving Drake to contemplate this unexpected complication.
“Well,” Harrison said after a moment, “that was enlightening.”
Drake drained his glass. “It changes nothing. I still need those lands.”
“True. But perhaps your approach might need reconsideration.”
Drake narrowed his eyes. “What do you suggest?”
“Don’t go in assuming she’s your enemy,” Harrison advised. “From what I gather, she has legitimate claim to what she holds. Fighting her directly will only entrench her position.”
“So instead I should...what? Charm her?” Drake scoffed.
“God, no,” Harrison laughed. “She’d see through that in an instant. No, I’d suggest something far more radical.”
“Which is?”
“Treat her as an equal. Listen before you speak. Consider that she might actually know what she’s talking about when it comes to the estate.”
Drake looked at his friend as though he’d lost his mind. “You sound like you admire her.”
“I’ve never met her,” Harrison shrugged. “But anyone who survived Edmund without losing themselves entirely deserves some respect.”
Drake’s jaw tightened at the reminder. The widow clearly commanded more respect than he’d anticipated—from his solicitor, from Carrington, and now from Harrison. It rankled that everyone seemed to hold her in such high regard when she controlled what should rightfully be his.
“Respect or not,” Drake said, his voice tightening, “she holds assets that belong to the estate. I’ve barely had time to take possession of what’s mine, and already I must negotiate for access to my own inheritance.”
Harrison shook his head. “You’re going to have to decide whether this is truly about the property and assets, or whether it’s about your pride.”
“It’s about what’s rightfully mine,” Drake insisted.
“Is it? Or is it about resenting the fact that a woman you’ve never met holds power over something you believe should be entirely under your control?”
Drake didn’t answer immediately, annoyed by how accurately Harrison had pinpointed his feelings. Instead, he signalled for another brandy.
“I’m merely trying to secure what’s mine by right of inheritance,” he said finally. “If the merry widow expects me to relinquish valuable assets simply because she’s accustomed to having her way, she’s sorely mistaken.”
Harrison sighed. “Just don’t underestimate her, Drake. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I never underestimate my opponents,” Drake replied, accepting the fresh glass of brandy from the returning footman.
“Is that what she is? An opponent? Surely not.”
“What else would you call someone standing between me and what’s rightfully mine?”
Harrison studied him for a long moment. “Perhaps someone with equal claim to what you believe is yours alone. Have you considered that possibility?”
Drake’s expression hardened. “Equal claim or not, I have no intention of allowing her to dictate terms. Tomorrow’s meeting will make that abundantly clear.”
“Then I wish you luck,” Harrison said, rising from his chair. “Though I suspect you’ll need more than luck when dealing with Lady Katherine and the Wexford family.”
After Harrison departed, Drake remained at the table, absently reviewing the financial documents Mr. Winters had left behind. The figures confirmed what he already knew—without the disputed lands, Greythorne’s finances were precarious at best.
He thought about what Harrison and Lord Carrington had said about Lady Katherine. Could she truly be as formidable as they suggested? Most likely they were simply taken in by a pretty face and a convincing performance of the wounded widow.
Drake had encountered plenty of women skilled at manipulating men to get what they wanted.
He’d even admired the talent, when it wasn’t directed against his own interests.
But now his inheritance—his future—was at stake.
He couldn’t afford to be swayed by sympathy or attraction, no matter how compelling Lady Katherine might prove to be.
He had never expected to inherit, but now that he had, he would let nothing threaten what was rightly his.
Tomorrow’s encounter would set the tone for their relationship. He needed to establish boundaries immediately, make it clear that while he respected her legal rights, he would not be intimidated or manoeuvred into concessions.
A gentleman passed by, nodding respectfully. “Lord Greythorne.”
Drake returned the nod automatically, still unused to the title.
He had spent years building his own fortune, making his own way without relying on family connections or inherited privilege.
He’d expected to continue that independent existence indefinitely.
Now, suddenly, he was responsible for an estate, tenants, tradition—all the things he’d purposely left behind when he sailed for America a decade ago.
And standing squarely in the path of his new responsibilities was Lady Katherine, a woman who apparently held both legal leverage and intimate knowledge of the very estate he was meant to govern.
Drake gathered the papers, tucking them into his case. Whatever tomorrow brought, he would be prepared. Lady Katherine might have her brother’s support and years of experience with Greythorne affairs, but Drake had navigated far more treacherous waters in his business dealings abroad.
He leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “We’ll see about that. If she thinks I’ll let her walk all over me, she’s in for a surprise.”
As he left White’s and stepped into the cool London evening, Drake’s mind was filled with strategies and counterarguments for tomorrow’s meeting.
But beneath his tactical planning lurked an unexpected current of curiosity about the woman who had survived his cousin’s supposed cruelty with her spirit intact.
Lady Katherine. The widow who stood between him and complete control of his inheritance.
Tomorrow, they would finally meet face to face.