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Page 15 of A Wife for the Beast (Scandals and Second Chances #6)

Evangeline had risen early once again, determined to establish some semblance of routine in her new existence, though she found herself wondering if other duchesses experienced such profound uncertainty about their daily obligations and social responsibilities.

The breakfast room, with its tall windows overlooking the neglected gardens, had become her preferred sanctuary for morning correspondence and the endless stream of decisions that seemed to accompany her elevated position.

Mrs. Cromwell had arranged the previous day's letters upon a silver salver with the sort of ceremonial precision that suggested such formalities had once been commonplace at Ravenshollow Manor, though Evangeline suspected they had been revived specifically for her benefit rather than maintained throughout Lucian's years of isolation.

"Your Grace," Mrs. Cromwell announced with the particular tone she employed when delivering news of uncertain reception, "a gentleman has arrived requesting an audience with His Grace. Viscount Pembroke claims urgent family business requires immediate attention."

The name meant nothing to Evangeline, though she detected something in the housekeeper's manner that suggested this visitor's arrival was not entirely welcome. "Has His Grace been informed of the Viscount's presence?"

"Yes, Your Grace. His Grace has requested that you join them in the library at your earliest convenience. He seemed particularly desirous of your attendance at this interview."

The careful phrasing, combined with Mrs. Cromwell's obvious reluctance to elaborate further, filled Evangeline with sudden apprehension about the nature of this unexpected visit.

What manner of family business could require her presence at what should have been a private conversation between male relatives?

And why had Lucian, who seemed to prefer conducting all serious business without feminine interference, specifically requested her attendance?

"Thank you, Mrs. Cromwell. Please inform His Grace that I shall join him directly."

The walk from the breakfast room to the library seemed longer than usual, each step weighted with growing unease about whatever awaited her behind the familiar oak doors.

She could hear voices as she approached—Lucian's deep tones contrasting with a lighter voice that carried the sort of polished accent that marked a gentleman of fashion and society.

The conversation appeared cordial enough, though something in the rhythm of their exchange suggested undercurrents of tension that might not be immediately apparent to a casual observer.

"Ah, Evangeline," Lucian said as she entered the library, rising from his position behind the massive desk with the formal courtesy that had characterized all their public interactions. "May I present my cousin, Viscount Pembroke? Edmund, this is my wife, the Duchess of Ravenshollow."

The gentleman who rose to greet her was everything that Lucian was not—conventionally handsome in the fair-haired, blue-eyed manner that marked the fashionable world, elegantly dressed in the latest London style, and possessed of the sort of easy charm that seemed to flow as naturally as breathing.

Yet there was something in his pale eyes that struck her as calculating, a quality that suggested his pleasing exterior concealed thoughts of a less agreeable nature.

"Your Grace," Viscount Pembroke said with a bow that was perfectly executed yet somehow managed to convey a subtle reservation about according her the full honors of her position, "what an unexpected pleasure to make your acquaintance at last. I confess myself quite surprised by the news of my cousin's marriage. "

The emphasis on the word 'surprised' carried implications that made Evangeline's spine stiffen with instinctive defensiveness, though she maintained her composure with the sort of diplomatic grace that her new position demanded.

"The pleasure is entirely mutual, my lord," she replied with cool courtesy, settling herself in the chair that Lucian indicated with a gesture that somehow managed to position her slightly behind his protective presence. "I trust your journey from London was not too tiring?"

"Not at all, Your Grace, though I confess the roads in this part of Yorkshire leave much to be desired. I suppose one grows accustomed to such rustic inconveniences when one chooses to bury oneself in the countryside."

The comment was delivered with a smile that did not reach his eyes, and Evangeline found herself wondering if the Viscount's remarks were intended to disparage not merely the local infrastructure but also Lucian's decision to withdraw from fashionable society.

There was an edge to his manner that suggested this pleasant conversation concealed purposes of a less benevolent nature.

"We find the Yorkshire countryside quite agreeable," she replied with the sort of calm authority that suggested any criticism of their chosen residence was both unwelcome and irrelevant. "There is something to be said for the peace and tranquility that distance from London affords."

"Indeed, Your Grace. Though I imagine a lady of your evident refinement must occasionally long for the entertainments and society that only the metropolis can provide?"

The question was posed with such apparent concern for her welfare that it took Evangeline a moment to recognize the underlying assumption that her marriage had consigned her to a life of tedious rustication.

She glanced at Lucian, noting the way his jaw had tightened almost imperceptibly at his cousin's words.

"I find myself quite content with my present circumstances, my lord. A woman's happiness derives more from the quality of her domestic arrangements than from external diversions."

"How admirably dutiful of you, Your Grace. Though I suppose duty becomes easier to bear when one's alternatives are limited."

The comment struck her like a physical blow, its meaning so clear that she felt heat rise in her cheeks despite her efforts to maintain diplomatic neutrality.

This charming gentleman was suggesting, with the sort of polished cruelty that marked a true master of social warfare, that her marriage to Lucian had been motivated by desperation rather than any genuine attachment.

"Edmund," Lucian's voice cut through the tension with the sort of quiet authority that suggested his patience was approaching its limits, "perhaps you might explain the urgent family business that has brought you to Yorkshire with such precipitous haste?"

The Viscount's attention shifted to his cousin with the alacrity of a predator scenting weakness, his charming facade giving way to something harder and more calculating.

"Ah yes, the family business. I confess myself quite concerned about certain irregularities that have come to my attention regarding the recent changes in your domestic circumstances. "

"Irregularities?" Lucian's tone had dropped to the sort of dangerous quiet that Evangeline had learned to associate with his most volatile moods. "I am not aware of any irregularities in my affairs that would concern anyone outside my immediate household."

"Come now, cousin, surely you must realise that your sudden marriage has occasioned considerable speculation among those who take an interest in the Ravenshollow succession?

When a man who has lived as a recluse for several years suddenly acquires a wife in circumstances that appear somewhat hasty, questions are naturally raised about his mental competency to make such momentous decisions. "

The accusation hung in the air between them like a drawn sword, its implications so shocking that Evangeline found herself gripping the arms of her chair to prevent any visible reaction.

Mental competency—the suggestion that Lucian's war injuries had somehow impaired his capacity for rational judgment was both cruel and potentially devastating to his legal standing.

"I believe my mental faculties remain quite intact, Edmund, despite your apparent concerns to the contrary," Lucian replied with the sort of controlled fury that made his scarred features appear genuinely intimidating.

"My marriage was conducted according to all legal requirements and reflects decisions made with complete awareness of their implications. "

"No doubt, no doubt," Pembroke replied with the sort of hasty agreement that suggested he had achieved his primary objective of introducing doubt into the conversation.

"Yet you must acknowledge that the circumstances appear somewhat irregular to those unfamiliar with your particular situation.

A man of your standing, marrying a lady of modest connections without the usual preliminaries of courtship or betrothal. .."

"My courtship and betrothal are hardly matters for public speculation or family interference," Lucian said with barely contained violence. "I would advise you to exercise considerable caution in pursuing such a line of inquiry."

"Naturally, naturally. Yet as your nearest male relation, I feel some responsibility for ensuring that the family's interests are properly protected.

The Ravenshollow title has been held by our family for six centuries so surely you can understand my concern when its succession appears to be uncertain. "

Evangeline felt her breath catch as the true purpose of this visit became clear.

Pembroke was not merely questioning the validity of their marriage; he was positioning himself as Lucian's heir should that marriage be declared invalid or should Lucian be deemed incompetent to manage his affairs.

The calculated nature of his attack became apparent in all its malicious precision.

"The succession is quite secure, Edmund," Lucian replied with deadly calm. "My marriage ensures that the title will pass to my direct descendants rather than to distant cousins who might have harboured expectations of inheriting through default."