Golden sunlight softly pierced through light, airy clouds strewn over a gorgeous blue sky. On any other day, it would have proved wonderful for the Duke of Leverton to take his intended on a ride through Hyde Park, or a walk through the majestic gardens of his home, but Ann was inconsolable.

When she had found out about Emmeline’s apparent death, Miss Benwick had shut herself in her room and had cried her soul out for her lost friend.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Mrs. Benwick smiled sympathetically. “My daughter is still grieving.”

Nodding in acceptance, George bade the matriarch goodbye and left to go back to his home. His sister’s death, and his beloved Ann’s grief, they all stemmed from Newberry—he was to blame. His grandfather had been right about that family—they were nothing but trouble.

With his jaw stiff like flint, George decided that Newberry was going to pay for his sin of enabling Emmeline’s death. He had to get revenge for her somehow.

Two weeks and three days after knowing about Emmeline’s death, Noah frowned tiredly at another withdrawal letter from an investor in Kent, who had been all agog to capitalize on his coal mines. Resignedly, Noah added it to a pile of withdrawal notices from investors and payment requests from creditors.

Noah had depleted his tenant’s payments and now the lack of investments was another problem. Without investments, many workers wouldn’t get paid and the flourishing crops and laden mines would go to waste. Noah couldn’t help but feeling he was being sabotaged and he knew exactly from whom—but he’d be damned if he could prove it.

Leverton had still not replied to his counter proposal for the dukedoms’ trade agreement and he was running out of time. His promises and placations to his desperate people were running thin. Noah didn’t know where to turn or what to do. The grief of Emmeline’s death had taken a toll on him, and Noah had slipped into a sort of despondency for the last two weeks.

If he had thought time had gone slowly before, it was nothing less than tortuous now. Despite his grief, Noah had been forced to put it to the back of his mind and focus on what came first—his people. Sadly, the promises he had been counting on for help and profit had fallen through, and he had to figure out a way to provide for his people, quickly.

“Your Grace,” Cole said, “A letter from the Duke of Leverton has arrived.”

Noah felt aggravated but he took the letter, opened it, and two lines in ground his teeth. Leverton had finally replied to his trade proposal, but this time the cursed Grant had actually lowered his offer from the first proposal. From what he was reading, his people would receive little to nothing for their back-breaking efforts. Now, Noah was sure it was Leverton who was sabotaging him.

Flinging the letter down, Noah shoved away from the desk and heeded to his clawing need for air. Moving to a seldom-taken exit from the second floor, he emerged into the back garden and took a path to the center of it. The air was cool and the soft dew that remained from the morning rain was still lingering on the red rosebushes and multi-colored flowers.

Noah felt like he was the Titan Atlas, cursed with holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. How could he in good conscience ask the people to bow to Leverton?

Meandering through the garden’s paths, and breathing in the cool and calming air, he wracked his brain for a way out. An errant thought–that if Emmeline had been there, she would have happily helped him find out another way with that brilliant brain of hers. That thought, though fleeting, made the emptiness in his chest dig even deeper.

Briefly, the young Duke covered his eyes with one hand and pressed the fingertips into his stinging orbs. Small calming breaths were taken in as he quelled the urge to delve back into his sorrow. Shaking his head to displace the thoughts, he went back inside and decided that the best way was to tell his mother about the problem and ask her insights on the matter.

He climbed the stairs to his mother’s sitting room and just as he was about to enter, heard his mother and grandmother speaking.

“—but Mother, this woman is barely seventeen, not even a woman in the definition of maturity,” The Duchess of Newberry was pressing.

“But her father and uncle command a good portion of the trade from the colonies.” The Dowager Duchess’ grating voice added, “They earn more than thirty thousand pounds a year from that endeavor alone, and if you tally in the ten they make from their tenants, she is well set. She will be Noah’s wife, Miriam, I have declared it so. The letter is already sent.”

Rage sparked into Noah but the Duke tightened the emotion into a ball and when he spoke his voice was icy. “Is that so, Grandmother?”

Both ladies looked up as he entered the room and stared with a dark glare at the two, “And who is this rich child heiress, hm?”

“A woman from—” the Dowager Duchess started, but was overridden by Noah’s terrifyingly calm voice.

“I don’t care who she is or if she owns the moon, the sun, and the stars, Grandmother, I will not marry her,” Noah stated.

“Why?” the Dowager Duchess demanded with narrowed eyes, “And do not tell me you’re still mourning that impudent Grant chit. Her death is a gift for you Noah, it is God’s will for you to choose someone else. Stop looking a gift horse in the mouth, you foolish boy. If someone hadn’t removed her, I think that task would have fallen on me.”

It was only years of holding his composure that kept Noah’s jaw from meeting the floor. He shot a quick look to his mother whose head was suddenly twisted away. Was that guilt on his mother’s face? Was it? Had she had a hand in…?

No! Surely not my mother! Grandmother, yes—she is a shrunken shrew but not my mother! Surely not my mother!

“I am not marrying her,” Noah declared while redirecting his attention to the oldest woman in the room.

“Yes, you are,” she railroaded, “The woman and her father will be here in the next month as we see about your courtship. Think about our fortunes, boy.”

It irked Noah, but his grandmother had a point. The fact was that his grandfather had left a lot of decisions to his wife and the Dowager Duchess’ signature was needed on some documents. It had irked Noah for years, but until she died, he couldn’t change it. Her words jerked him back to the reason why he had approached his mother in the first place.

“Mother,” Noah said while turning away from his grandmother. “The Duke of Leverton just sent his trade proposal and it is—”

“You dare trade with that traitor?” his grandmother screeched, “How dare you! Does family tradition mean nothing to you?”

“Your delusions, Grandmother, are not tradition.” Noah said stonily over his shoulder, “I am ordered to trade with Leverton from the head of the council, The Duke of Kenton. I need your opinion on it, Mother.”

His mother’s gaze was level, “Son, if we associate ourselves with this merchant heiress, no matter how high Leverton’s offer is, it can be outdone twice, even thrice, by these people.”

The Duke’s jaw was tight as he digested her words, “Et tu, Mother? Are you going to disregard my decision and sacrifice me like a choice lamb for the possibility of money?”

“You are nothing but a pawn, boy, in this majestic game of fortune. And this is no possibility of money—this is a surety,” his grandmother sniffed.

Noah sorely wanted to ask her if money was the only thing she cared for but declined to do so. “Would either of you give me the courtesy of knowing my future wife’s name?”

“Lady Constance Calloway,” Miriam added quietly. “Her father is an Earl and her uncle is a Marquis in South England.”

“Well, excuse me then,” Noah said as bowed with mocking extravagance before he crossed the floor, “I think I should start ordering some dolls for my child bride.”

Noah made sure to close the door behind him and pretend to walk away while in truth he only stood there in hopes of overhearing more.

“Mother,” The Duchess of Newberry said, “Must you continue to test him? You know he’s mourning the Leverton lady while all the other responsibilities of the dukedom are burdening him down.”

The Dowager Duchess huffed, “All the more reason to make him marry this heiress. And don’t make any excuses for him, Miriam. We both know that Leverton chit had to be removed, one way or another, you agreed to it yourself! At least I had the fortitude to do something about it!”

Noah felt like he’d been struck between his eyes with a mallet and barely managed to keep his composure while he walked away. It was inconceivable—his own mother and grandmother had something to do with Emmeline’s death!

He sank into his chair with cold running through him and his eyes staring out blankly. If Leverton had never had a good reason to kill him before, he did now. Noah knew that if he did prove that his own family had killed his love, he would happily hand himself over to Leverton. But not before he taught his own blood a lesson.