Page 15 of Bewitching the Duke

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“I won’t leave here. I have just as much right to be here as you do.”

“Miss White, if you have not vacated the property within a week, I shall send for the constable.”

“You will do what you must,” she said softly. “And so will I.”

Selina strode back to her cottage determined not to let him run her off her property. He could call the constable or even the regent. She would never leave her family home. She flung the door open so hard it bounced against the wall, rattling the dishes in the cabinet.

She walked into her bedroom and opened the trunk at the bottom of her bed. As she rifled through the mess of papers and things, tears blurred her eyes when she could not find what she needed. That document had to be here somewhere! Without it, she might have no choice but to leave her home.

The late afternoon turned to evening. She opened the bottle of wine Mr. Thomas had given her as payment for her services this afternoon. Two glasses later, she went back to her search. There was still the bottom drawer of her desk to investigate.

She opened the drawer and sifted through the old papers. She finally found what she’d been searching for and now he would never be able to make her leave. She sipped another glass of wine for fortification and then was ready to face her demon again. Armed with ammunition, she headed back to the duke’s house. No one would forcibly remove her from her cottage.

A footman opened the door for her. “Welcome back, Miss White,” Randall said with a grin. “Shall I announce you?”

 

; “No, thank you, Randall. Where is the bastard?”

Stilted footsteps sounded from upstairs. “The bastard is right here, Miss White.”

She glanced up to see him glaring down at her. Did he actually think he could intimidate her by standing up there? He had a lot to learn about her.

“I believe I asked you to leave,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

She marched up the wide marble staircase, only grasping the rail once for support. “Hah! I have all the proof I need, right here,” she said, waving the paper in front of him.

He shook his head. “You embarrass yourself, Miss White. Please leave before I call the footmen to escort you out.” He turned away and walked toward a long corridor.

“Not until you read this paper.”

He said nothing but continued to march away from her.

Selina followed him quickly. “Don’t you dare walk away from me!” Spying a small pillow on a chair, she picked it up and hurled it at him. She smiled as it hit him directly between the shoulder blades. But her quick slice of happiness faded when he turned around with an ominous look on his face.

He strode toward her with his fists clenched. She wanted to run but her legs seemed unable to move. Just as he reached her position, she turned to run.

He caught her immediately and pushed her against the wall. “Who do you think you are to come into my home uninvited and order me to read some blasted paper you’ve found? I am master here and you . . . are nothing.”

Selina gasped at the force of his words. Her eyes widened and her breath quickened. He stood only inches away from her and her senses filled with him. A hint of sandalwood drifted past her nose as he stood over her. Nothing! He thought she was worthless. He had no idea of her importance.

“I am your wise woman, Your Grace,” she said slowly, enunciating each word with purpose.

“No,” he whispered harshly, “you are not. You are nothing but a leech on my property. I want you gone.”

“I have a paper that proves my right to stay.”

He yanked the paper out of her hand and opened it. His lips twitched as he scanned the document. He handed the worn page to her and said, “You may know about herbs but you know nothing about the law.”

“What do you mean?”

He backed away from her with a shake of his head. “That paper gives your great-grandmother the right to live here into perpetuity.”

“Exactly! Since I am her granddaughter, I also have that right.”

“No, Miss White. Only your great-grandmother had that right. It does not give her progeny the same right.” He started to walk down the corridor again. “Good evening.”

Selina couldn’t move. All these years she’d assumed she had the right to live on this land. But she didn’t. The duke could demand she leave for any reason. Whether it be blaming her mother for the death of his wife and child or the inane idea that as an uneducated woman she shouldn’t be attempting to heal people. She clutched her stomach in pain. She’d never questioned her right to live here. This land was her home too.


Tags: Christie Kelley Historical