Chapter 26
Stephan liked to think that he was a reasonable man.
He was calm and fearless in the face of battle.
Many men in his position made errors when faced with foes; they became overwhelmed by impatience or eagerness, by the desire to be victorious or shed blood or simply to win a fight.
Stephan had never been that man. His record as an admiral had been spotless; any losses—of which there were very few—had been due to the circumstances.
They were outnumbered or overpowered. The weather had turned unexpectedly and forced a retreat. There were always factors beyond Stephan’s control, and even so, he had become adept at salvaging even the worst defeat. He and his men survived; that was what mattered most of all.
His grandmother threatened to undo him. “To the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury,” he barked.
The footman snapped to attention, throwing open the door of the coach with such force that he nearly struck himself with it.
Later, Stephan imagined that he would probably feel a little guilty for frightening the man, who was becoming fairly competent at his job.
At the moment, Stephan was too infuriated to care.
He would have sworn that his blood boiled in his veins, and his muscles all pulled so tight and taut that he ached.
How dare his grandmother come to his house unannounced?
How dare she speak to Evelina so disrespectfully?
Even though it was irrational, a small part of Stephan fought against the impulse to blame his grandmother for Evelina’s sickness.
Maybe if the accursed woman had not upset his wife so badly, she would not have retreated to those gardens and fallen ill.
The coach jolted into motion, and he grimaced.
It was unwise to visit his grandmother while he was so angry.
Stephan knew that, but all rationality faded away when he imagined the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury standing in his house, uninvited and malicious.
The thought of the woman speaking to Evelina only unfurled a protective instinct that Stephan had not even known he possessed.
This dispute was between the two of them.
Evelina was formidable, and Stephan suspected that she was more than a match for his grandmother’s cunning.
He smiled a little, thinking about how startled the Dowager Duchess must have been when she discovered that his blushing bride was a woman of strength and integrity.
Evelina was no weak-willed woman. She would not fold as many others might have.
Still, Her Grace had no right to bring an innocent person into the middle of their feud. If the Dowager Duchess was a man, they would have already come to blows or declared a duel. A man’s honor could only endure so many blows.
At last, the coach reached the dowager’s house.
Stephan straightened his spine and fixed his gaze ahead, determined to emerge from the coach looking cold and impassive, in control.
The fury bubbling in his chest would do him no good, so he must be careful.
His grandmother was cruelly adept at turning his temper against him.
The coach door opened, and the footman bowed hastily. “We are here, Your Grace.”
I can see that. Stephan forced the snide words back. He had already snapped at the man earlier, and if he could not control himself around his own footman, he was certainly unprepared to face his grandmother.
“Thank you,” Stephan said. “I will not be long.”
He had not lied to Evelina, after all. He did have business with his solicitor.
His grandmother had not seen fit to give Stephan the ledger containing all the finances of the dukedom either, and he refused to ask her for it.
Stephan doubted his grandmother would give it to him, and even if she did, he strongly suspected that those numbers would come at a higher price than he would be willing to pay.
If he did not ask, he might at least keep his dignity.
The dowager’s house was slightly smaller than his own, a detail that he noted with some satisfaction.
Her Grace had a way of bringing out the worst in him.
Carefully trimmed roses lined the stone walkway.
Stephan found the flowers to be a little too predictable, too appropriate for a woman who had more thorns than any of those flowers.
He went up the path to the door, which opened before he had even reached it. Stephan recognized the man in the doorway—Gregory Simmons, the man who had been his father’s butler. It seemed as if all the staff had not been dismissed, then. Some had elected to leave with his grandmother.
Stephan managed a grim smile. Maybe he ought not be bothered by it. He would rather have an inefficient but loyal staff as opposed to one that might betray him.
“Your Grace,” Gregory greeted, bowing. “The Dowager Duchess has been expecting you.”
“Has she?” Stephan asked. “Strange, given that I provided her with no indication that I would come to call.”
The butler’s lined face revealed nothing. “She anticipated that you would.”
Stephan wondered if his grandmother had told the man about her visit and encounter with Evelina.
He doubted it, but Stephan also would have been unsurprised to learn that his grandmother bragged about her own misdeeds like a Shakespearean villain.
She was certainly as wicked and clever as Iago from Othello.
“Tell her that I have arrived,” said Stephan.
Gregory bowed. “One moment.”
The butler departed, leaving Stephan in the foyer.
His eyes darted about the unfamiliar entryway; he had not been in the dowager’s house for years.
The foyer was all polished furniture and portraits in gilded frames.
A red and gold Persian rug was laid out beneath his feet.
Stephan thought it was all garish, too much wealth being flaunted for no other reason than to make his grandmother’s less fortunate visitors feel insecure about their own wealth.
At last, Gregory returned. “Her Grace will see you.”
Stephan nodded curtly. He followed Samuel into the drawing room, where his grandmother sat. She narrowed her eyes and tipped her chin up, gazing imperiously at him. “Stephan.”
He smiled thinly. “Your Grace.”
The Dowager Duchess gave him a look which seemed to imply that he was an unfathomable inconvenience. She waved a hand to the vacant sofa placed across from her. “Sit.”
“I would rather stand. I do not anticipate this visit taking long.”
“No?” Her Grace asked. “Have you come to accept defeat, then?”
Stephan shook his head. “I would never give you that satisfaction. Besides, why should I? I am quite confident that I have won this little war of yours.”
The Dowager Duchess of Rothbury smiled indulgently, as if he had just performed an amusing trick for her. “Are you? I very much doubt that.”
“Pride goeth before the fall,” Stephan quoted.
“You speak to me of pride,” Her Grace said. “What of yours? My dear grandson, I fear that you are better acquainted with that sin than I.”
“Do you?” Stephan moved to stand behind the sofa and curled his hands over the back of it.
“You are the one who refuses to relinquish your power. I am the Duke of Rothbury, my father’s only son and heir.
Why do you insist on pretending otherwise?
I respect the fairer sex; I do. However, the law does not. The dukedom is mine.”
“Unless you fail to produce an heir,” his grandmother shot back. “Then, it is mine in all but title.”
“I shall produce an heir,” Stephan said. “I have a wife, as you well know.”
Her Grace laughed. “So you learned of our conversation, did you? I suppose your duchess was frightened and felt the need to have you intimidate me.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I came of my own accord. Nothing frightens Evelina, not even you.”
“Then, your wife is lacking in sense,” Her Grace said. “I will admit that I am impressed you found a wife so quickly; however, I doubt she will provide you with the heir you need. Did you know that she was married for a year and produced no child?”
Stephan inhaled sharply. He had known that, although he had not thought much on it; now, it was rather obvious why Evelina had not borne a child. Her husband had never lain with her.
His grandmother did not know that. While Stephan would derive a great deal of satisfaction from telling her, he refrained. That was Evelina’s business, and he would not share it with his grandmother, even if it might provide a fleeting satisfaction.
“Evelina will produce my heir,” Stephan said calmly. “I am certain of it. Truthfully, I find it rather strange that you assume she was at fault for not producing an heir. Such a powerful woman, I would think you would at least consider that her husband might be at fault.”
“You cannot know that,” Her Grace shot back. “You have so little time to produce an heir even under the most amenable of circumstances.”
“If that was true, you would not feel the need to disturb my wife,” Stephan said evenly. “It is clear to me that you feel threatened.”
His grandmother adopted a look of mock offense. “Did your sweet wife say that she was disturbed? I only wished to meet your wife. Any grandmother would want to meet the woman who her grandson married.”
“Somehow, I doubt that your intentions were so noble,” Stephan said. “This disagreement is between us—”
“Disagreement?” The Dowager Duchess of Rothbury laughed. “It is something far more than a disagreement.”
Stephan clenched his jaw and forced his fury back. If he lost his temper with his grandmother, he would accomplish nothing. “I understand that your life has been hard. You are a strong and ambitious woman—”
She scoffed.
Stephan clenched his jaw. Then, he continued, “You feel as though you have been treated unfairly by everyone—by my father, by the law, and by then. Regrettably, you have lost. The dukedom should be mine and will be mine. If you want to disagree and fight against the law, I cannot stop you. However, my wife is not a part of that.”
“She is,” Her Grace insisted. “When she agreed to marry you, she became involved.”
“No,” he said. “She agreed to produce my heir, something which any wife would do.”
“And you married her specifically because you hoped to keep me from getting what is rightfully mine,” Her Grace said, smiling tightly. “You are the one who made her involved.”
Stephan shook his head. “Any duke would marry,” he said.
“If you want to fight me, fine. But you will leave Evelina out of our feud. You have thought much about what you would do if you won this feud between us. Consider what might happen if you lose. I will not take a slight towards Evelina kindly. Leave my wife alone. If you do not, when she produces my heir and takes everything from you, I will be merciless. You will be left with nothing, abandoned and disgraced, regardless of what the ton may say.”
His grandmother’s lips curled, and she opened her mouth as if to speak. Stephan did not heed her. Instead, he simply walked away. He ignored the waiting butler—the traitor—and walked to his coach, a calm sweeping over him.
Stephan knew that he had not won; his grandmother would not be cowed by anyone. He had said what he felt, though. He had defended Evelina and made it clear that he would not ignore the insults paid to her, and now, there was nothing he wanted more than to return to his charming wife.