Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
I order Kyros to ready one of my personal carriages. The pink one, because I know it will bother Eryx the most. He rolls his eyes upon seeing it pull up in front of the main entrance. Kyros hops off the back and holds the door open for me. I slam the door shut before Eryx can climb in after me. He’s donned that ridiculous floor-length leather jacket again.
“The duke has his own carriages,” I say. “And until your identity is confirmed, I’m not about to allow a potential criminal into my carriage, now, am I?” I tap twice onto the roof, and the driver sets off, leaving Eryx in the dust with a wide scowl on his features.
The kingdom of Naxos is spread out over a mountain range, with the main city sprawling across the full length of the largest peak. The duke’s holdings are only one mountain over, so the drive is not longer than a few hours.
I spend the time trying to relax myself. I’m in a carriage alone, away from that horrible man. I hadn’t realized how tense my muscles had become until I fall against the rose-cushioned seat. I pour myself a glass of wine from the hidden bar and finally feel my muscles unclench.
I doze against the seat, since I barely slept the night before. When the carriage comes to a stop, I make sure none of my makeup has smeared. When I deem that I look pristine, I enter Vander’s building, Kyros and Doran trailing behind me.
When the secretary sees me, he bolts for Vander’s main office, likely determined to beat me this time. He announces my arrival to Vander, who then sends him away to make tea.
“Mr. Vander,” I say as I enter. “Have you already forgotten our last conversation?”
Vander doesn’t so much as blink as he straightens the glasses on his nose. “I assure you, I have not, Your Grace. For what purpose has your presence brightened our offices?”
I’m impressed by the light tone he uses. He must loathe me dearly, yet he likes my money enough to put up with me.
“A man barged into my home, claiming to be the duke’s heir. I assume you would not allow me to be blindsided by a stranger entering my home, so I’m here to get answers. I need your help getting the law involved so I can have this criminal removed by force, for I’m quite confident he will not exit voluntarily.”
Vander smiles.
Smiles.
He’s definitely in on it.
“Why,” I bite out, “is some boy claiming to be the duke’s grandson?”
“Some boy?” a voice says, and it takes me great effort not to look heavenward. Eryx enters the room. He wears no top hat, nor carries a cane, but Vander’s assistant takes that dreadful leather jacket from him. Really, he looks like a highwayman with it. His companions, Argus and Dyson, try to squeeze into the room after him.
“Wait outside with the duchess’s footmen,” Eryx orders.
“But—” Dyson starts, yet the more brutish-looking Argus pulls him along and closes the door behind them.
“Your Grace.” Vander says the honorific with an exaggerated weight. “Do take a seat, please.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I realize I’m about to be tag-teamed by these two morons. I ready myself for battle.
Eryx occupies the chair next to me, and I scoot mine over a foot so my skirts don’t brush his legs.
“Was that really necessary?” he asks.
“Obviously.”
Our gazes swivel to Vander simultaneously.
“Ah, yes, well. This is all a bit awkward, but I’m afraid, Duchess, that the late duke updated his will.”
“When?” I ask immediately.
“Before his death.”
I purse my lips. “It would be truly remarkable if he’d done so after his death, now, wouldn’t it?”
Vander coughs awkwardly and loudly into a handkerchief. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I wasn’t thinking. The duke changed his will after your marriage.”
“When?” I ask again. “Surely you have the exact date written down?”
A pause. “I’m afraid not. As long as I possess the most current will at all times, it’s not necessary to note the date.”
“And how are you to know if it is the most current version if you do not note the date?”
Vander says absolutely nothing in response. He’s eyeing Eryx, as though he expects the scammer to help him come up with a more clever response.
“I cannot fathom how my late husband entrusted you with all of his affairs when you seem entirely unsuited to the most basic of tasks, such as writing down a simple date.”
“Oh, leave the man be,” Eryx says. “Mistakes happen. It means nothing.”
“Nothing?” Apparently my future counts for nothing, but I will not be silenced so easily. “Where, then, did this change of the will take place? Here in the offices?”
“No, of course not,” Vander answers. “The duke was bedridden.”
“Then tell me, Mr. Vander. How exactly did this change happen, because I was at the duke’s bedside for the entire two months of our marriage, and I don’t recall seeing you in the manor once.”
The room goes silent, and Vander’s confidence evaporates. His face turns white. Eryx looks only mildly inconvenienced.
“I’m certain I sent an assistant over to handle the proceedings,” Vander puts out lamely.
“Really? Which one?”
“Oh, well, I don’t rightly recall—”
“You’re telling me that my late husband, your biggest client, wanted a major change to his will and you didn’t handle it yourself?”
Vander swallows.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“Not really,” Eryx says.
I ignore him. “At best, it sounds like your assistant made a mistake. That this inferior, untrained individual bungled up the last will and testament of my dear husband. And worst? I think this man”—I point to Eryx—“is no heir of the duke at all. I think the two of you are in cahoots. Tell me, Vander, did you put this plan into motion before or after my last visit? Is this payback? Or did you arrange for this when you thought I was a simpleton you could steal from?”
The solicitor reveals nothing, so I press on. “What did he promise you, Vander? Just how much of the duke’s fortune has he agreed to hand over in exchange for giving him wealth and a title?”
If it were possible, even more color has fled the solicitor’s face.
“That is a wildly inaccurate accusation,” Eryx says.
“Prove it,” I nigh spit out, “because I promise you I will not rest until the truth comes out. If I find out you’ve erred in the slightest, Vander, you will have hell to pay. Or you can come clean right now. Set the matter straight, and I will forgive the injury. We can go our separate ways, and the king never need be brought into this matter. Now, is there anything you’d like to say to me?”
This is a lie. I’m ruining this man whether he comes clean or not. His fate has been decided.
Vander squirms in his seat. He looks helplessly over at Eryx, who has leaned on the back two legs of his chair, as though he hasn’t a care in the world.
The solicitor rolls his lips under his teeth and looks away from me, as though he might be tempted to say something he shouldn’t if he doesn’t physically restrain himself.
“Really, you’d rather have him as an ally than me?” I ask. “Perhaps you should ask yourself who you’re more afraid of.”
Eryx snorts.
“Fine,” I say. “I shall hire a private investigator to look into the matter.”
Eryx rolls his eyes. “There’s hardly any need for that.”
“I disagree.”
He sighs. “Vander, show her my birth certificate. And my mother’s for that matter. Give the duchess the proof she so desperately wants so we can put this matter to rest.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Vander leaps up and runs toward some cabinets. He rummages through paper after paper until he finds what he’s looking for.
With shaking hands, he offers me a small bundle.
“Could you try not to look guilty?” I ask the man. “That might go a long way in helping me to believe your story.”
“Sorry, Your Grace.”
I flip through the papers slowly, reading every single line. There’s a birth certificate for an Ophira Demos, daughter of Euphrosyne Demos and Hadrian Demos, Duchess and Duke of Pholios. Two seals have been pressed into the wax at the bottom, the late duke’s and the late king’s. So unless these two managed to steal from the king himself, Pholios has a daughter.
The next sheet is Eryx’s birth certificate.
Mother: Ophira Demos
Father:
It’s blank.
I look up.
Eryx sees what I hold and says, “I’m a bastard, if you must know. No father claimed me, but I don’t need one. My mother is the duke’s daughter. Hadrian claimed me as his grandson in his will, his legitimate heir.”
The certificate also bears the king’s and duke’s seals. Though, I note that while the king’s seal looks old and worn, the duke’s seal looks much more fresh. The wax isn’t so dulled, and there isn’t a speck of dust pressed into the grooves.
But that doesn’t matter. I can’t prove all my claims true off one small detail. I can’t even follow through on my threat to take this matter to the king. My sister hates me, and the king loves my sister. They’re not going to listen to a word I have to say.
I feel my heart pick up its beating. This is all the proof Eryx needs to take everything from me.
After a few silent beats, I say, “Two pieces of paper do not explain why Vander looks as though he’s about to perish from fright or why no one seems to have heard of you before. Not to mention the fact that the duke’s seal looks like it’s only recently been administered. Am I to understand that the duke only recently learned of your existence and then randomly desired to turn everything over to you instead of the wife who kept vigil at his bedside? How remarkable.”
When I’d questioned the staff after breakfast, none of them knew the duke had sired any children. Even more peculiar, I found that none of the staff had worked at the estate long enough to have been there when a child would have been born. Had Pholios fired them all? For what reason?
Or are all these certificates, including the presence of the king’s seal, entirely fabricated?
“Fret and whine all you like, Duchess,” Eryx says. “It will not make me any less real. I am here. I am staying, and now all that’s left to learn is what the duke left you.”
“Right!” Vander exclaims, reaching for a briefcase he’d lodged under his desk. He riffles through more papers until he comes up with what must be the will. The solicitor clears his throat.
“‘To my grandson, Eryx Demos, my only living relation, I leave my lands and title, the manor and all its holdings.’”
He drones on about the tenants residing on the dukedom and the yearly incomes from the land. I perk up when he gets to the end.
“‘And to my wife, I leave an allowance of fifty necos a month and any gifts she has received during our courtship and marriage.’”
I nearly choke on my next breath at the amount. Fifty. A baron’s daughter would receive a higher allowance. Fifty necos barely covers a day’s worth of shopping.
Vander sets down the paper and looks up, having finally collected his features now that he has something to do.
“May I see that?” I ask calmly, despite the storm brewing within me.
“Certainly,” Vander says, “but let me warn you that any destruction of legal documents is a punishable offense.”
“I’m not about to destroy anything.” I take the paper, read over it myself to confirm all the man’s words, then double-check the seal. It appears legitimate.
Fifty necos a month. That’s what Eryx and Vander think will appease me?
“How generous the late duke was,” I say, managing a careful tone.
“I rather thought so,” Eryx says, obviously referring to his own acquisitions rather than mine.
“What of my investments?” I demand.
“Of course,” Vander says, riffling for another paper. “Your investments in electronic advancements are raking in astronomical amounts of money. However, since these were made with money earned from the dukedom, that revenue is the sole property of the Duke of Pholios.”
I think steam might be coming out my ears. Apparently, I’ve unwittingly made this impostor even richer.
I don a mask of indifference, hiding behind it as I have so many times before in my life. I cannot act rashly now. I need to think. I need to plan.
I spent years scheming to get my hands on this freedom and fortune. I used the law to protect myself, finding the one possible hole in the system that favors women: dowagerhood.
I hadn’t anticipated someone using illegal means to take my fortune and control over the estate from me.
These men have no idea who they’re dealing with.
“Now that this is all finally settled,” Eryx says, “now is the perfect opportunity to discuss your future, Duchess.”
“Excuse me?”
“The dukedom is mine, and I hardly want you to stick around. So let’s discuss your options.”
“You cannot kick me out,” I snap. “The estate is my home.” Regardless of whether I get to control it.
“Don’t think of it as me kicking you out. Think of it as me generously setting you free.”
My hands tighten into fists, burying into the material of my skirts. “Could you please speak plainly?”
“I had hoped to be more delicate, but plain might be the best way to ask this question.” Eryx looks meaningfully to Vander.
“Oh, you want me to— Right.” Vander coughs for the millionth time. “Your Grace, was your marriage with the duke… consummated?”
“I beg your pardon!” I shriek at him.
“It’s not a trick question,” Eryx steps in. “It’s merely a way out for you. If the marriage wasn’t consummated, then you can easily have an annulment. You wouldn’t be beholden to the estate, nor the duke’s last wishes for you.”
“You honestly mean to steal the meager stipend you’ve left me?” I stand from the chair and round on this—this man-child!
“It is hardly meager, and it matters not to me. I’ll double it, if you’d like.”
My eyelids thin. “In exchange for what?”
“Whatever you say in this room will be uncontested. The duke is not around to confirm or deny your words. So, was your marriage consummated?”
He wants me to lie—or tell the truth. Whichever gets me to say what he wants to hear. That the duke and I never had intimate relations, that our marriage can be rendered void. Why does he wish for me to vacate the house so badly? It’s enormous. We could both live in the place without once bumping into each other, not that I have any desire to share what is rightfully mine.
I have no intention of giving Eryx what he wants, so I lie. “The marriage was consummated.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, but I don’t falter.
Eryx sighs. “Perhaps you are daft. I’m trying to give you an out, woman. You could start over. Find a happy marriage this time around, a true one with a man you could love. Isn’t that what every woman wants?”
Not me. I crave freedom. Marriage is the exact opposite of that. “I will not lie to obtain what you want. Besides, I hardly see how renouncing my claim as dowager duchess helps you or me.”
“You could return to your family. Live with them. Surely you want that? You would keep all your gifts from the duke and your allowance, and as I stated previously, I’m happy to double it.”
What he says might sound reasonable to anyone else. We clearly do not get along, and I gain more financially by taking Eryx’s offer.
But I won’t .
Because if I agree, I go back to my father an unwed, unsullied debutante back on the marriage market. Father can try to marry me off again. Alessandra may have changed the law where brideprices are concerned, but that doesn’t mean Father can’t threaten me with disinheritance if I don’t wed the next man of his choosing. I’d be back to being beholden to the men around me. I won’t do that again.
I worked damned hard to get myself wedded to the duke. I put up with hell to get my hands on that fortune, on the freedoms afforded to me as a dowager duchess. I will never give that up. And if I stay, if I remain the dowager, I’m only one person away from reclaiming all that should rightfully be mine.
Eryx needs to go, not me.
I will make sure of it.
“I’ll ask one more time,” Eryx says. “Think carefully about your answer. Was your marriage to the duke consummated?”
I take in his arrogant features and condescending tone. He fully expects me to play along. He thinks he’s about to take this all from me, and I’ll just go willingly. Because he’s a man. Because he’s big and intimidating and already threatened me once with a dagger and revolver.
What he doesn’t realize is that since letting the real Chrysantha out, I cannot hide her away again. I will not play the fool again. I will not cater to the men around me again. I did my time, and now it’s time for me to shine.
Whether it takes days, months, or years, I will be rid of Eryx Demos, and I will have all that is rightfully mine.
I smooth the skirts of my dress, still standing tall. “Listen carefully, little man, for I will not say this again. Hadrian Demos and I consummated our marriage on our wedding night.”
Eryx’s eyes narrow, while his lips turn down into a scowl. “You said he was bedridden. He barely had any strength.”
“Shall I draw you a diagram of how we made it work? Is your imagination or your knowledge of intimate relations so lacking? Do you need me to explain how I climbed atop him? How I—”
Vander squeaks, and his hands cover his ears. “Your Grace, that is more than sufficient!”
Eryx’s face has gone blank. I have no way of knowing if he believes me or not, but that is of no matter. As he stated before, the duke is gone. No one can refute my words. They must be taken as fact on the matter.
“In that case,” Vander continues, “the duchess is to remain living at the Pholios Manor. She will take up residence in the duchess suite and resume her duties as lady of the house until such a time as His Grace marries.”
I’m watching Eryx’s face, so I see him grimace at the mention of his own marriage.
“Must she stay in the duchess suite?” Eryx asks. “Surely a room in the attic would be more than suitable?”
I put on a nasty smile. “If you don’t like it, I suggest you marry quickly, Your Grace .” I say the last words ironically, as though they’re an insult instead of an honorific.
“I am not marrying,” Eryx says. “And I will not have only a door separate us at night.”
“Scared an accident might befall you in your sleep?” I ask innocently.
“Hardly.”
But he won’t say anything more.
“In that case, I’ll resume residence in the master suite, and you can find a room more suitable to you in the attic,” I announce.
A dimple appears between Eryx’s eyes, and I realize he’s furious. “Is there nothing legally I can do to be rid of her?” he asks Vander.
“I’m afraid not, Your Grace,” Vander says. “Until such a time as either of you is married, things will remain as they are now.”
Eryx snatches on to that bit of hope. “Her marriage?”
“Then she would, of course, move in with her new husband.”
Eryx relaxes. “Then there is an end in sight.”
“I am not marrying again.”
Both men look at me critically, ignoring my declaration entirely.
“She’ll marry again,” Vander says.
“The proposals will come,” Eryx confirms, talking with Vander as though I am no longer in the room. “Just look at her. So long as she keeps her mouth shut, someone will offer for her.”
I have never in my life wanted to slap someone so badly. I have been silenced for years , and the mere mention of him suggesting I do so again turns my violent thoughts murderous .
I can’t think past the strong emotion for several beats.
“You forget that I have to accept,” I say between clenched teeth. As a dowager, no one can accept proposals for me. Not my father and certainly not the new duke.
“Someday, another man will make you an offer you can’t refuse,” Eryx says. Quieter, he adds, “I’ll make sure of it.”
Just what exactly does he intend to do? Bribe men to offer for me? I suppose he has the money to pull strings. But I’m not about to accept another man’s hand, not when there’s a perfectly good fortune just waiting for me to take it back up.
“Knock yourself out,” I say. “In the meantime, I’ve a manor to run.”
And a duke to get rid of.