Page 82 of The Odyssean Duke

Her Grace merely raised a brow and looked at him, as imperiously as an empress on her throne. She set aside her embroidery. “And what answers do you believe I have?”

“I would like to know how long you planned on continuing with this charade,” Stephan said, choosing his words carefully. “Didyou truly believe that you could forge those signatures on my father’s will and not get caught?”

His grandmother had already been still, but somehow, she seemed to grow even stiller at his question. Her brow furrowed, and her eyes narrowed. Stephan waited, watching her face for any sign of trickery.

Then, she laughed. It was an edge, an uproarious sound that echoed around the room. “Forgery?” she asked. “Of all the schemes to try! I expected that you would try to avoid fulfilling your father’s conditions, but never in this absurd way! What a story you have concocted for yourself!”

An icy thread of doubt traced the path of Stephan’s spine, but he had to continue. At the moment, he had the advantage of surprise, and that would be lost if he did not soldier onward at that very moment. His instincts had saved him many times, and this?—

Evelina might be right. He could not retreat until he knew the truth.

“A story,” he said, keeping his voice neutral. “That is a strange way of sayingthe truth. Marrying Evelina had some unexpected benefits. Given how much you seem to know about my life, I am certain you know that my wife introduced me to a gentleman who makes a living by investigating inquiries.”

His grandmother’s vicious smile faded. “A profession investigating inquiries. How strange.”

Stephan was lying. There was no investigator. If he was going to force his grandmother into admitting to forgery without any evidence, Stephan needed some way of convincing her that he had something. The only reason Her Grace would ever admit to deception would be if she believed keeping her secret might be worse than the consequences for it being revealed to the ton.

“Indeed,” Stephan said. “The man is quite competent, and he has proof that you forged the signatures on my father’s will. There was no stipulation that I be married and produce an heir in such a short time. You created that forgery yourself in the hopes that I would fail, and you would seize the dukedom.”

His grandmother clasped her hands tightly together. Her eyes darted away from him, tension tracing her limbs.

Stephan stifled a gasp. Her Grace was visibly unsettled, rather than offended. Was it possible that his instinct had been correct?Hadhis grandmother truly forged the signatures on his father’s will? It seemed impossible and likely all at once, and his heart beat so loudly in his chest that the sound reverberated inside his own skull.

“But then, it seemed as though I was doing too well,” Stephan continued. “I married and was working to produce that desired heir, so you came to my house in the hopes of intimidating Evelina. Did you imagine that she would leave me?”

“She has,” his grandmother said, the words emerging as a croak. “She has.”

“A minor dispute,” Stephan said.

He had erred in mentioning Evelina. Her absence was like a hole in his heart, deep and painful. It was best to leave her out of the conversation, especially when Stephan was on the verge of victory. He could sense it, and that old, wartime feeling of being so close to an end surged inside him.

“You have failed,” Stephan said. “Because you are my grandmother, I will not tell the magistrate and the rest of the ton what we both know you have done.”

“You cannot prove it!” the Dowager Duchess cried, all the color draining from her face. “It matters not unless you have evidence, and you have nothing!”

Stephan choked on his own breath. His grandmother’s words still rang in his ears. She had admitted it! She had truly forged the signatures on his father’s will!

Unfortunately, she was right. He had no proof that he could share. It would be his word against the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury, and Stephan did not know who would emerge victorious from such a contest. If only he had the will that his father had intended to create, then it would have been such a simple matter?—

She must have it, though,Stephan thought.Most women in her position would simply burn the real will, leaving no trace of what she had done, but not my grandmother. She wouldcertainly keep it, just in case she ever needed to use it against me.

Stephan forced a laugh, and his grandmother shifted in her chair, her expression unnerved. “You convinced me that my father did not love me for years, and you conspired to take my inheritance from me. Do you believe that I would make an accusation of forgery lightly? That I would have come here without irrefutable proof of what you have done?”

His grandmother’s nostrils flared. She straightened in her chair, like an old vulture watching a dying animal. “You cannot possibly have proof,” she said.

“But I do,” Stephan said. “So I will let you decide how we proceed. I can take this to the magistrate.”

Even if she believed he had no proof, Stephan still suspected that the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury would sooner die than have the ton know what she had done.

“When I prevail, which I will, you will be imprisoned or sent to the gallows,” Stephan continued. “I will tell everyone in the ton of your treachery and ensure that your reputation is left in tatters.”

Her Grace’s lips pressed in a thin line, as though she only disagreed with him over some trivial matter, but her eyes were wide with fear. For the first time, the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury appeared shaken. He smiled grimly.

“Oryou can admit to me what you have done,” Stephan said, emphasizing every word quite carefully. “You can admit to your treachery and give me the will that my father wrote and agreed to; I do not believe for an instant that you would have thrown it away. Then, you are to leave London; I do not care how you justify leaving to the ton, so long as you leave and never return. If you follow those conditions, I will consider the matter settled and let you leave with some measure of dignity.”

Her Grace said nothing. Stephan studied her face, trying to determine if her reticence stemmed from genuine disbelief or a desire to still somehow achieve a victory from the situation. He was familiar with this game of hers. She would wait in silence, hoping that someone else would flinch and surrender to her the upper hand.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting her out, the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury rose and walked across the room. She cast him a dismayed look over her shoulder. “I suppose I taught you too well,” she said.